FARDIS, Lebanon (news agencies) — Alma Ayman Fakhr al-Din, a lively 11-year-old who loved basketball and learning languages, was playing on a soccer field a week ago in Majdal Shams, a Druze town in the Israeli-occupied Golan Heights, when the rocket hit.
Running to the site, her father Ayman pleaded with emergency workers for information about his daughter. “Suddenly I went to the corner, I saw such a tiny girl in a bag,” he said. He recognized her shoes, her hand. “I understood that that’s it, nothing is left, she’s gone.” She was among 12 children and teens killed.
The shocking bloodshed unified the Druze across the region in grief – and laid bare the complex identity of the small, insular religious minority, whose members are spread across Israel, the Golan Heights, Lebanon and Syria.
The Druze religious sect began as a 10th-century offshoot of Ismailism, a branch of Shiite Islam. Outsiders are not allowed to convert, and most religious practices are shrouded in secrecy. There are just one million Druze – more than half of them in Syria, around 250,000 in Lebanon, 115,000 in Israel and 25,000 in the Golan Heights, which Israel captured from Syria in the 1967 Mideast War and annexed in 1981.
Separated by borders, each part of the Druze community has taken different paths, always with an eye on preserving their existence among larger powers. Druze in Lebanon and Syria adopted Arab nationalism, including support for the Palestinian cause. In Israel, Druze are highly regarded for their loyalty to the state and their military service, with many entering elite combat units, including fighting in Gaza. In the Golan, the Druze navigate their historically Syrian identity while living under Israeli occupation.
The communities have always kept up connections and tried to maintain civility over their differences. That, however, has been strained by 10 months of war in Gaza. Now after the Majdal Shams strike, many Druze fear even worse divisions if the region tips into all-out regional war.
After the attack, a string of Israeli politicians rushed to Majdal Shams to show solidarity with the grieving families and emphasize the strong connection between Israel and the Druze.
“These children are our children, they are the children of all of us,” Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said, visiting the soccer field.
Netanyahu’s presence also sparked angry protests by some residents who accused officials of exploiting the tragedy for political purposes.
Many Druze in the Israeli-held part of the Golan have kept their allegiance to Syria. About 20% have taken Israeli citizenship, said Yusri Hazran of Jerusalem’s Hebrew University, who is Druze and researches minorities in the Middle East.
In the past 15 years, that trend has increased, said Hazran, as Israel has more strongly integrated the Golan, whose 1981 annexation is not widely recognized.
Meanwhile, Israel’s Druze community, centered in the north of the country, tends to tout with pride their Israeli identity. Around 80% of the male Druze population enlists in the military, higher than the around 70% of Israeli Jews, according to official statistics. Ten Druze soldiers have been killed in the war in the Gaza Strip, a large proportion given their community’s size.
Sheikh Moafaq Tarif, the spiritual leader of the Druze in Israel, said he wasn’t surprised by the wave of national compassion. “During the time of mourning, everyone is talking about support,” he said.
He hoped support would continue after the tragedy has faded from headlines.
“There’s so much that’s needed to fix here.” He pointed to the significant discrimination Druze faced in Israel. A third of Druze homes are not connected to electricity, he said. The community was furious over a 2018 Israeli law that defined the country as a Jewish state and made no mention of its minorities.
In the Golan, some still see their bond lying with neighboring Arab countries.