Shotgun wedding? Israel and Syria go to the altar.

For half a century, the border between Israel and Syria on the Golan Heights was a model of hostile stability. The guns were silent, but deep-seated antagonism prevailed, punctuated by repeated, failed attempts at diplomacy.

Now, following the sudden collapse of Bashar al-Assad’s regime in December 2024 and a 12-day war between Israel and Iran that has solidified Israel's military dominance in the region, the geopolitical ice is cracking.

In a turn of events that would have been unthinkable a year ago, Israel and Syria are in “advanced talks” to end hostilities. Reports now suggest a White House summit is being planned for as early as September, where Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu would sign a security agreement, paving the way for normalization. But this is no outbreak of brotherly love; it is a display of realpolitik, a shotgun wedding between a triumphant Israel and a destitute Syria, with Washington playing the role of officiant."

The groom is Ahmed al-Sharaa, Syria’s new president, a former jihadist leader who has swapped his fatigues for a suit. Al-Sharaa assumed power just six months ago and sits atop a transitional government formed from the ashes of a 14-year civil war, largely comprising the ranks of his former fighting force, Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS). He governs a country in ruins, desperate for economic relief and a respite from conflict.

The other party to this unlikely courtship is an emboldened Israel, fresh from a military operation against Iran that American and Israeli officials have called a stunning display of Israel’s military and intelligence dominance. Though the damage to Iran’s nuclear program is severe but “not total,” according to Rafael Grossi, head of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA), the perceived success of the campaign has emboldened Israel, which is keen to press its new strategic advantage. Prime Minister Benyamin Netanyahu speaks of “broad regional possibilities,” and his government is aggressively pushing to expand the Abraham Accords in the aftermath.

“We have an interest in adding countries, such as Syria and Lebanon…to the circle of peace and normalization,” declared Gideon Sa’ar, Israel’s foreign minister, on June 30. For Israel, bringing Syria into the fold would be the ultimate strategic prize — transforming one of the historic linchpins of Arab rejectionism of Israel into a partner and possibly formalizing on paper its 58-year illegal hold over most of the Golan Heights.

Israel’s actions since the fall of Bashar al-Assad’s dynasty in December 2024 have been a brutal demonstration of the new power dynamic. Israeli forces have not only pummeled what remained of Syria’s military infrastructure but have also moved into the U.N.-patrolled demilitarized zone, seizing new territory deep inside Syria, including the strategic peak of Mount Hermon, which overlooks Damascus.

The potential agreement—whether its final form will be a non-aggression pact or a more comprehensive normalization—may come with a hefty dowry to be paid entirely by the Syrians. According to statements by Israeli officials, that price is the Golan Heights, a strategic plateau of internationally recognized Syrian territory, largely conquered by Israel in 1967. Though the “quiet talks” between Israel and Syria are shrouded in secrecy, Israel has made its position on the Golan Heights publicly clear, with the Israeli Foreign Minister stating that it will “remain part of the state of Israel ” and Prime Minister Netanyahu declaring that it will remain part of Israel “for eternity.”

A Syrian concession of the Golan Heights to Israel would shatter the "land for peace" principle enshrined in U.N. Security Council Resolution 242. This was the formula that underpinned the 1979 Egypt-Israel Camp David Accords, which saw the full return of the Sinai Peninsula to Egypt, and the 1994 Jordan-Israel treaty, which included the return to Jordan of roughly 380 square kilometers that Israel had controlled since the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. Crucially, “land for peace” was the explicit basis for all previous, albeit failed, negotiations with Syria, from the Madrid Conference in 1991 to the Turkish-mediated talks in 2008.

The precedent of the “Rabin deposit ”— the late Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin’s reported commitment during U.S. brokered negotiations in the mid-1990s of a full Israeli withdrawal from the Golan Heights in exchange for full normalization — has for decades set the bar for Syrian expectations, a standard Israel is now overturning with its demands that the Golan remain under its control.

The Abraham Accords of 2020 pioneered a new model that decoupled normalization from territorial concessions by Israel or genuine progress on Palestinian statehood. For the original signatories, the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain, and later joiners Morocco and Sudan, none of whom share a border with Israel, the deals provided benefits for each signatory. Morocco received U.S. and Israeli recognition of its sovereignty over Western Sahara, the UAE secured a symbolic promise that Israel would suspend annexation of parts of the West Bank, and Bahrain gained a powerful ally against its larger and more powerful neighbor, Iran.

Sudan’s incentive was removal from the U.S. list of state sponsors of terrorism. However, its formal peace with Israel never fully materialized as the country descended into civil war.

Now, Israel is applying this doctrine to Syria, albeit in a cruder, more coercive form. Its continued control over most of the Golan Heights—which it formally annexed in 1981 (a move recognized only by the U.S. under President Trump in 2019)—has been declared non-negotiable. The area is now home to some 30,000 Israeli settlers, with plans approved since al-Sharaa's rise to power to increase that population even further.

And yet, the Syrian side is attempting to push back against this new reality, albeit from a position of weakness. While unnamed Syrian sources have floated ambitious proposals for the return of one-third of the Golan Heights, the official position is far more modest. Following a call with U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio, Syrian Foreign Minister Asaad Al-Shaibani expressed Syria’s “aspiration… to return to the 1974 disengagement agreement.” In effect, Syria’s official position circles back to the original “land for peace” formula—resetting the process to the open-ended negotiation framework of Resolution 242.

Even this scaled-back demand, however, faces a wall of political opposition that extends beyond Netanyahu’s government, exemplified by figures like Benny Gantz, a prominent opposition leader and former Defense Minister, who has stated that Israel “must not withdraw from the strategic positions” in the newly seized territory. His insistence on maintaining “Israel’s security superiority” reveals a shared consensus between the government and its centrist opposition, effectively boxing Syria out of any meaningful territorial negotiation.

This is a negotiation where Israel holds all the cards; its troops occupy Syrian territory with guns pointed toward Damascus, and its recent military actions—from the 12-day campaign against Iran to the ongoing war in Gaza—demonstrate a clear capacity for aggression to secure its demands.

Acting as the enthusiastic matchmaker for this abusive relationship is President Donald Trump’s administration. For Trump, for whom personal chemistry is paramount, a single meeting in May was enough to judge Sharaa as "young, attractive," and "tough." That instinctive judgment, coupled with Saudi-Turkish lobbying, was sufficient to reverse decades of antagonistic policy.

His envoys, Tom Barrack and Steve Witkoff, have been relentless in their public messaging. Barrack speaks of Syria as an “experiment of getting this done the quickest,” while Witkoff hints at “big announcements” regarding the Abraham Accords. Yet even the American envoys acknowledge the political minefield Sharaa must navigate. Barrack himself noted that the process must be managed carefully to avoid domestic backlash in Syria. “He cannot be seen by his own people to be forced or coerced into the Abraham Accords,” Barrack said. “So he has to work slowly.”

This awareness of appearances, however, does not change the underlying strategy. The rapid dismantling of the U.S. sanctions regime, formalized in a June 30 executive order, is the critical tool for this transaction. But this is not a blanket pardon; rather, it is a carefully sequenced exercise in control.

While the order terminates the broad sanctions program, it keeps the most potent leverage in play: Sharaa himself and Syria's status as a State Sponsor of Terrorism remain under “review," not revoked, their removal held back as bargaining chips.

This provides Washington with carrots, offering Sharaa the immediate, tangible benefit of general economic relief while holding back the ultimate prizes of personal and national delisting. These rewards are contingent on numerous conditions, with “taking concrete steps toward normalizing ties with Israel” at the top of the list, as the White House fact sheet on Syrian sanctions revocation makes clear.

However, many Syrians view any deal with Israel cynically. In response to Israeli demands for a demilitarized south in February, protests erupted with chants of, "Netanyahu, you pig, Syria is not for division!" Druze communities in Sweida, which Israel has tried to woo, have hoisted banners rejecting Israel’s encroachment and affirming, "The Syrian law is their protector." For many Syrians, regardless of sect, Israel is not making a peace offer but exploiting their country's weakness to formalize a land grab—a view amplified by the unprecedented violence in Gaza and an ongoing aggressive expansion of Jewish settlements in the West Bank.

In addition, the core Palestinian issue, the original casus belli of the decades-long conflict, remains entirely unresolved, with the prospect of a two-state solution seemingly more distant than ever.

For Damascus, bankrupt and battered, a deal is not about not what Israel will give but what it will finally stop taking.

The potential prize for Syria is two-fold: an end to the relentless airstrikes and a withdrawal of Israeli troops from the U.N.-designated buffer zone they seized after 2024—an outcome that, despite the seizure's illegality under international law, remains far from guaranteed. Given the power imbalance, however, these are not Syrian demands but potential Israeli concessions: the reward for Damascus finally accepting the new reality on the Golan.

Ultimately, the inevitable agreement between Syria and Israel will be less a partnership of equals and more a transaction dictated by the new calculus of power, which is tilted overwhelmingly in Israel's favor. The only real question is the nature of the reception to follow: will it be a grand celebration of full normalization on the White House lawn desired by the U.S. and Israel or a more discrete, politically palatable truce that Damascus desperately needs?