"We were subjected to mendacious and malicious propaganda and empty slogans about Jews with horns. It was forbidden to say the word 'Israel' out loud. When a student was asked to name the capital of the Zionist entity, she was brutally beaten when she answered 'Al-Quds' [Jerusalem]."
So says Aliaa Noha Khaled, a Syrian refugee and strong patriot, shooting out words like bullets from a gun. At the beginning of the week, I traveled to southern Israel to meet her. She is the new bride of my friend Prof. Salman Elbedour, who is visiting from the United States.
One conversation with her, he promised me, will provide a glimpse into the new worldview held by our neighbors to the north, in Syria.
I took a dusty road to the Bedouin town of Lakiya, where Elbedour is from. Drivers passed me aggressively. The town contains many low structures with tin roofs. Were they erected legally? One can only guess.
The professor's house is at the top of a hill. It is a beautiful, classic stone structure, and a number of prominent Bedouin community figures had gathered there. The guests were seated on an array of colorful floor mats, enjoying a large pot of traditional lamb stew. We discussed issues including education, social awareness, child-rearing and the need for change. We talked about the tribal customs that keep placing unfit leaders at the community's helm. I was in awe of the calm and quiet debate culture in the room.
All the while, my friend's Syrian wife – modern-looking and graceful – served refreshments with a smile and radiant self-confidence. In this unusual Syrian-Jewish-Israeli-Bedouin convergence, anything is possible, I thought.
Then I remembered the less optimistic issues that are troubling me: the radicalization and separatism being cultivated by the Arab Higher Monitoring Committee, the incitement by the Islamic Movement in Israel, and the sentiments expressed by Israeli Arab MKs in the Knesset. I thought about the nation-state law that has sparked so much rage among Israel's Arabs, and about the illegal construction, polygamy, corruption, rampant crime and failed law enforcement that have put such a strain on Israeli Arabs' relationship with their state.
I thought how different everything could be if the group in that room could serve as a model. The relationship between the different communities and the state could benefit everyone.
Bullets over Lakiya
Before nightfall, I spoke with Aliaa in a quiet corner. Suddenly, our conversation was interrupted by a series of explosions – fireworks and gunshots celebrating a nearby wedding. I looked at the people around me and I saw that none of them even flinched as the chaos and noise prevented any sort of conversation. They just accepted the madness around them.
Between the explosions, Aliaa told me about her background. She was born in Aleppo to a Sunni family. She was one of eight siblings. She left her family and her studies before the war began, and married an Albanian man. She had two daughters with him.
When war erupted in Syria in 2011, she began staging protest rallies in Albania and speaking to the media against the Assad regime and the Islamist rebels in Syria. She faced threats from both sides and had to flee to the United States in 2013. Her request to be naturalized in the U.S. was rejected.
It was strange to hear about her hometown in Syria being bombarded while the fireworks provided a soundtrack in the background. She spoke about President Bashar Assad's mass murders, the Russian involvement in the slaughter and the ruins that the war has made of her home.
"The Islamists hijacked the revolution, which was originally launched by modernists who wanted reform," she says. "It was supposed to eradicate government corruption, but instead, it turned Syria into an Islamist state."
She says the only way to get ahead nowadays is to memorize the Syrian Baath Party's platform and to become a member in the Baath "pioneer" movement. There is only one platform, one party, headed by one leader and only one name to put into the ballot box. Every Syrian is expected to vow loyalty forever.
"Hatred toward the Zionist entity is used as a common denominator to unite the ranks in the secular Syrian state, where all religion is rejected, and the regime systematically murdered objectors in a collective manner. Without a trial," she says, visibly outraged.
Looking back, Aliaa she says she feels empty now that the baseless slogans she was fed have shattered against reality.
"We were loyal because we were afraid for our lives. But we didn't really believe in the regime, which was spying on us, inciting, dividing and hurting us," she says.
"Syrian Arabs love their country, but hate the regime. The Syrian people want to unite, but it is impossible in the current reality. You, the Jews, just love your country with your hearts and souls. You believe in it despite the disagreements among you. I feel it with every policeman, bureaucrat, guard, officer, politician and citizen."
It is obvious that Aliaa lives in a world of contradictions. Her request for American citizenship was denied, but she was warmly welcomed by the American Jewish community. She is not afraid of the Syrian regime, and she defiantly proclaims, "I am wanted as an enemy of the state anyway. I am not afraid of making my opinions known. I am not afraid of making my photos or my visit to Israel public."
She recalls culture shock upon landing at Ben-Gurion Airport with her husband and daughters.
"Despite my Syrian-Arab ethnicity, the security personnel didn't treat me with an iota of disrespect or humiliation," she says. She adds that the same was true of the guards at the border crossing from Israel into Egypt and into Jordan.
"The Jews were polite and professional," she recalls.
Peace for the educated
Their first stop in Israel was the "occupied" Golan Heights. With tears in her eyes, she looked over the border toward her homeland, understanding that she may never be able to return. When she says "occupied" she makes sure to clarify that she means that the Golan is a gift that the Assad family gave the Jews – the "watchdogs of Israel."
Indeed, it is a good thing that the Israelis did not give the Golan back to "treacherous Assad," she says.
"But the Golan must be restored to Syria," she adds.
Much to her disappointment, Israel, along with much of the world, is interested in keeping "treacherous Assad" in power. That is why she was confounded by the extensive humanitarian assistance Israel provided to members of the rebel group Al-Nusra Front, who were fighting against Assad. It is clear she is still quite influenced by the manipulative indoctrination that taught her to view Israel as subversive, not humanitarian.
When the Elbedour family returned from Aqaba to Eilat, they had a flat tire. Much to Aliaa's surprise, it was young Jewish Israelis who offered assistance in the debilitating heat, knowing very well that the Elbedours are Arab. The same thing happened at the Taba border crossing between Israel and Egypt, when a Jewish woman they did not know drove them to their destination in Israel "despite her obvious fear of the Arab woman."
As for the Syrian people's attitude toward Israel, Aliaa says a change has begun. The Syrians welcome Israeli strikes on Iranian targets in Syria, as well as attacks on Assad's assets.
"Many people call him 'the coward' and urge him to launch a counterstrike on Israel. But 'the coward' doesn't comply. The educated ones among us want peace with Israel, but anyone who says so is labeled a traitor."
The refugees won't return
Aliaa is pessimistic about Syria's future. The Syrian people are exhausted. They long to unite around a nationalist-secular platform despite their ethnic and religious differences. They are all disappointed with the world's willingness to tolerate Assad as the lesser of the evils. Assad will never be accepted by his people as a true, legitimate leader, and the demand to remove him will color every possible eventuality. According to Aliaa, there are too many external forces in play, too many conflicting interests with the power to shape the future of her destroyed, divided country.
For the Jordanians, she says, the Syrian refugees are a goose that lays golden eggs.
"They get foreign aid, but they put the refugees in lockdown and mistreat their girls. In Lebanon, they attack Syrian refugees to avenge 'crimes of the past.' The rest of the Arab world simply refuses to absorb Syrian refugees, but they send aid money to Islamist terrorist groups in Syria. It's not clear if anyone will want to or succeed in returning to Syria. It is undergoing a process of ethnic cleansing by Iranian forces and Shiite militias. Since there are no prospects of a fair election in the foreseeable future, the likely outcome will be a division into sub-states."
Aliaa speaks with disdain about the Palestinian poster child Ahed Tamimi and her "narrative of courage." Tamimi received broad media coverage locally and around the world after hitting an Israeli soldier and being jailed in Israel for eight months. She described her stint in jail as being like a vacation. Aliaa cannot understand how Tamimi received so much attention when, on the same day, thousands of Syrians were tortured and murdered and the world just ignored them.
"Here, the Israeli authorities warn terrorists to leave their homes before demolishing them," she says. "In Syria, they bomb the house with the residents still inside. Here, you release terrorists from jail in exchange for the bodies of Israeli soldiers, and this proves how much value human life has to Jews and how little value it has to Arabs."
Aliaa also speaks of the "Palestinians, who incited and subverted against the leadership and the citizens of every country that hosted them. They did it in Lebanon, in Jordan, in Kuwait, in Tunisia and in Syria. The Palestinians always betrayed their hosts. Therefore, as a refugee, I think they need to return to their homes in Israel. That is the right of every refugee. In Israel it will be different."
Her conclusion does not inspire confidence. She knows that if the Palestinian refugees return to Israel, it will mean the end of the Jews.
After speaking with her, I could only conclude: The Golan will not be returned, and no Palestinian refugee will return.
That night, as I left the narrow streets of Lakiya, I saw the mounds of trash and felt the sand that had crept in through my windows into my nostrils and eyes. I feel warmth and affection toward my Bedouin hosts and an urgent desire to advance their interests. That is the real message of my visit to the Negev.
