GHAJAR — On a recent morning in the Alawite village of Ghajar, straddling the border between Israel, Lebanon, and Syria, children played in the school playground, a woman hung her laundry on the clothesline and another lit incense to bring blessings to the day.
It could have been a morning like any other. But in reality, the hilltop village was open to visitors for the first time since October 8, 2023, when the Iranian-backed terror group Hezbollah began near-daily cross-border attacks on northern Israel.
Although their businesses are reopening and tourists are slowly returning, the 2,900 residents of Ghajar, all Alawites, have other, more pressing concerns as members of the same religious minority as the recently deposed Syrian president Bashar al-Assad.
The new acting head of Syria, Jihadi rebel leader Ahmad al-Sharaa, has reassured Syrians and the international community that he will respect the rights of minorities. Still, the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights reported last Monday that fighters affiliated with the new leaders carried out 35 summary executions to “settle old scores” with members of the Alawite minority.
The residents of Ghajar deeply fear for the lives of their Alawite relatives across the border.
In Syria, “it’s an extreme government,” said Mohammed Shemali, owner of Besan Restaurant in the center of the village. “Our relatives say they are okay, but from what they are not saying, we know that they are in danger.”
Israel Defense Forces troops operating in a buffer zone in southern Syria came under fire on Friday evening, the military said, in the first such incident since Israeli forces deployed to the buffer zone on the border between Israel and Syria, following the fall of the Assad regime last month. The IDF said soldiers returned fire toward the source of the shooting.
On January 23, local officials welcomed this Times of Israel reporter as one of the first outsiders to walk around the village. Still, they cautioned that they did not want to discuss the situation of Alawites in Syria.
“We don’t want to jeopardize anyone on the other side,” one official said on condition of anonymity.
No signs mark the way to Ghajar (pronounced RA-zhar) except for a warning that surrounding areas contain minefields. The road unfurls and then stops at a dead-end where a flowing fountain marks the entrance to the village.
The village promenade overlooks a steep drop into Lebanon, with clear views of the Hasbani River and an abandoned United Nations guard post.
During the war, Hezbollah’s rocket fire caused extensive damage to buildings in Ghajar. Several residents were injured, one seriously.
A ceasefire agreement in Lebanon in late November ended two months of full-scale war that followed months of lower-intensity exchanges.
The fragile ceasefire has generally held thus far, even as the warring sides have repeatedly accused each other of violating it, and was extended this week until mid-February.
On January 23, the village – with its houses painted in bright shades of pink, blue, and green – seemed peaceful. Then an explosion shattered the silence.
“They’re putting on a show,” a female Israeli soldier on duty in the village quipped about Hezbollah, underscoring the shaky ceasefire between the terror group and Israel.
On Sunday, Israel and Lebanon agreed to extend the deadline for Israeli troops to depart southern Lebanon until February 18.
The extension followed on the heels of clashes in southern Lebanon earlier that day, when hundreds of Lebanese, among them Hezbollah operatives, tried to reach villages close to the Israeli border by force, according to Israeli military officials.
The Lebanese health ministry said 22 people were killed, including a Lebanese soldier, and some 124 wounded by IDF fire, with another two killed on Monday.
Hezbollah has reportedly rejected the extension and is urging south Lebanese residents to continue confrontations with the IDF.
Although Ghajar straddles the current border between Israel and Lebanon, the village belonged to Syria until Israel captured it along with the Golan Heights during the 1967 Six-Day War. It officially annexed the village in 1981.
In the 1980s and 1990s, as Ghajar’s population grew, the village expanded north into Lebanese territory.
When Israel withdrew from southern Lebanon in 2000, the United Nations split the village into two sections, one Lebanese and one Israeli. However, the residents objected to the potential division of the village and the UN’s decision to annex its northern half to Lebanon.
“We have nothing to do with Lebanon,” said one Ghajar resident who wished to remain anonymous.
Ghajar remained closed to outside visitors for years until the IDF lifted restrictions on September 8, 2022. All at once, the village was packed with visitors who could come from 8 a.m. and stay until 8 p.m. Now that the town is open again, that rule is still in place.
Ghajar opens to visitors on January 23, 2025. (Diana Bletter/Times of Israel)
“We love art, order and cleanliness,” said Ali Shemali, Mohammed Shemali’s brother, who led this reporter on an informal walk through the village where residents exchanged friendly greetings.
Ali stopped at the carpentry shop of his cousin, Gamel Wnos, 60, who took a break from work to serve strong black coffee to his visitors.
Wnos said he has work again, now that some of the 60,000 people who had been evacuated from 32 communities in the north during the war have trickled back into the area.
Wnos, a carpenter for the past 20 years, has hands to show for it: The top joint of one finger is missing. After he took a sip of coffee, he said that he thought the new Syrian leader, Ahmed al-Sharaa, “would be okay.”
“I feel peace is coming,” Wnos said optimistically, adding that he hoped that one day he could visit his Alawite relatives in Syria.
However, because the Alawites fought for Assad’s government against the Sunni Muslim majority, some are now victims of retribution killings.
The Alawites also fear persecution by radical Islamists who view them as heretics for their split with Islam in the ninth century.
Since coming to power in December, Sharaa, also known by his nom de guerre Abu Mohammad al-Julani, has preached religious coexistence, promising not to enforce strict adherence to Islamic fundamental principles.
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said in early December that Israel has signaled its desire to have “correct ties” with the new regime. Yet some Israeli leaders cautioned against readily believing in the transformation of Sharaa, who created the jihadist al-Nusra Front to fight Assad.
Wnos said he heard from people in Syria that food was entering the country and they were more satisfied. But his voice dropped when he spoke about the country’s new leader.
“He is okay but the people around him aren’t good,” Wnos said.
There are approximately 2.1 million Alawites in the world, but most are found in Syria, where they make up 10% of the population. They believe in Jesus, Mary and the prophet Elijah in a unique blend of faiths. They also believe in Moses, Ali said, “the prophet mentioned the most in the Koran.”
Their religious doctrine and rituals remain secretive, and guarded by male followers. The ceremonies are often unknown even to the sect’s women, who dress modestly but do not cover their hair, and are mostly camera-shy.
Village residents, who are highly educated, Ali said, hold Israeli passports.
“My parents were born in Syria,” said Ali’s wife, Magday. “I was born in Israel. I’m Israeli.”
The villagers do not serve in the Israeli army but some residents do national service.
“Everyone can believe what they want. We respect all religions and beliefs,” Ali said, pointing out the Path of Coexistence in the lovely park in the village’s center lined with rose bushes and featuring a statue of an Alawite sword, a menorah, the Koran and a statue of the Virgin Mary.
A few streets away, Mohammed Shemali said he was looking forward to “finally” opening his restaurant, which serves traditional Alawite cuisine, after it had been closed for more than a year because of the conflict.
“War is tragic for everyone,” he said.
“My dream and that of my friends is for peace,” Ali said. “But I have mixed feelings because of the unstable situation in our region.”
“I don’t want to talk about al-Julani,” Mohammed said, using Sharaa’s former name. “The people now in power in Syria hate the Alawites. It’s dangerous for our relatives there. They work and try to stay out of harm’s way.”
He looked around the restaurant that he hoped to open in the next few days.
“We’re not scared for ourselves here in Israel,” he said. “We speak to our relatives daily in Syria. We are scared for them.”
With contributions from Times of Israel staff.