“What are you doing there?”
That’s usually not the first question I’m asked. First comes “Where do you live?” It’s when I give my response – “the Golan Heights” – that I get the follow up. As if the Golan were such a strange place to find oneself.
My stock answer is that I am raising my kids and holding the border. That usually steers the conversation elsewhere. But it isn’t meant as a flip retort. It is what I am doing, and in large part it answers the question of “why.”
Our decision to move to the Golan was based on two beliefs: that holding the Golan is critically important to Israel’s survival, and that in the current political climate the government of Israel cannot be trusted to fight to keep control of underpopulated territories, no matter how vital their strategic value.
So now we are “settlers” – in the sense that we are living on land which the nations of the world would like to deny us. If we are to hold on here, we need the support of Jews who recognize our historical ties to this land and our responsibility to secure it.
The Golan has a very long Jewish history. It was first given to Avraham as Refaim (Bereishit 15:20), and later called Bashan. It was assigned by Moshe Rabbeinu to the tribes of Reuven, Gad, and half of Menashe during the return from Egypt. It was long populated, before the Exile, by farmers and herdsmen.
Indeed, the extent of the Jewish settlement of the Golan can be inferred from the many archeological sites here: more ancient synagogues have been identified in the Golan than anywhere else in Israel. Gamla, across the road from where I live, was built by the Hasmonean King Alexander Yannai in 81 BCE, and it was the capital of the Golan for 150 years. It shares the same history as Masada.
The Golan under the Turks was an underpopulated wasteland, as was all of Palestine. Like the rest of the Middle East, the Golan passed from Ottoman hands to colonial powers after World War I, and was assigned to Syria under the French Mandate. It became part of independent Syria in 1946, and was used as one of the launching points for the invasion of Israel in the 1948 War of Independence.
After losing the war in ’48, Syria maintained the Golan as a military outpost, using the heights to attack the vulnerable communities of Northern Israel. This stopped in 1967 when Israel won the Golan in the Six Day War. The North had peace until 1973, when Syria again invaded across the Golan during the Yom Kippur War. The disengagement line of that war kept the Golan in Israeli hands. Recognizing that the heights in enemy hands would make the north indefensible, Israel formally annexed the Golan in 1981.
I used to think it was inconceivable that anyone would seriously argue that Israel should surrender the Golan Heights to Syria. The topography of the heights creates defensible borders – the Yarmuch and Rokad rivers form a natural barrier to armored vehicles in the Southern Golan, while the mountains in the Northern and Eastern Golan allow the IDF to defend Israel by holding a limited number of passes through the mountains. And one could argue that having the IDF positioned only 60 km from Damascus has done more to keep the peace than any number of treaties would have.
A Syrian Golan would be an existential threat to Israel for another reason: The Golan is a watershed area. It currently provides at least 30 percent of Israel’s water resources, through the Jordan River’s flow into the Kinneret. There are three rivers that feed into the Jordan: the Hatzbani, which flows from Lebanon and is under Syrian control; the Banias, which flows from the Golan and would be lost to Syria if Israel withdrew; and the Dan, which flows near the 1967 border and would be under threat if Israel retreats.
Visitors to the nature reserve at Banias in the Northern Golan can see the pipes that Syria installed prior to 1967 in an effort to divert the headwaters of the Jordan and deny its water to Israel. Obviously, an attack on Israel’s water supply from the Golan would be devastating. Only by keeping the Golan in Israeli hands can we ensure that this won’t happen again.
Our moshav is one of a line of national religious settlements established along the Syrian border after the Yom Kippur War. It is a typical small moshav, with about 65 families, a dairy farm, orchards and vineyards. Some people work here in agriculture while others are involved in business or professional endeavors.
Like other settlers, our purpose in being here is to protect Israel’s vital interests. We hold the border and protect the interior of the Jewish state against a recurrence of Arab aggression, difficult as that may be to imagine. A side benefit is that we get to enjoy the natural beauty of the region and the unbeatable quality of life here.
Recently, the Golan reappeared in newspapers because Syria has indicated a willingness to accept it as a gift in return for promises of peace. This offer is a transparent effort to deflect America’s wrath over Assad’s support for Saddam and other anti-American terrorists. It is ridiculous to contemplate such a withdrawal, but Israel has no lack of politicians willing to gamble with Jewish lives in the hopes of achieving peace.
And so the Golan is in need. It needs Jews to recognize its unique importance. Like Hebron and the other communities of Yesha, it needs Jews to support it and publicize how critical the Golan is to Israel’s security.
More than that, it needs Jews to live here. Our regional council has announced its intention to increase the Jewish population of the Golan by another 900 families over the next few years. To put this in context, the number of Jews who moved to Yesha in the past year is greater than the entire current Jewish population of the Golan (about 18,000).
The question of what to do with the Golan is again a matter for debate, and we cannot claim ignorance of where this could lead. We have had years of experience to teach us: Nothing – neither rule of law nor fairness nor security interests nor American support – will secure our land. Only by settling it can we hope to keep it.
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