Can you bomb your way to peace? The paradox of Israel’s Syria strategy

On any given day, Israeli jets thunder over southern Syria, yet diplomats claim that quiet back-channel talks are underway in nearby capitals. Israel is pursuing a strange two-track strategy; striking with bombs to enforce deterrence, while simultaneously exploring diplomatic understandings on security. This paradox, negotiating peace under fire has deep roots but urgent new twists. Can “coercion plus cooperation” deliver genuine peace, or is it merely an illusion masked by rhetoric and force.

A history of halted wars

The starting point is a long-standing hostility. Israel and Syria have fought multiple wars (1948, 1967 and 1973) but never signed a peace treaty. Instead, they signed armistice and disengagement agreements. For example, after the 1973 October War they agreed in 1974 to a demilitarised zone, but even that agreement “is not a peace agreement” only “a step toward a just and durable peace”. The Golan Heights remained mostly under Israeli control. For nearly a half-century, this unresolved status meant that any tension could reignite war, and it often did in low-intensity form.

Negotiations under fire

Against this backdrop of mistrust, a quiet rapprochement has begun. The UAE, acting as an intermediary, helped open indirect talks between Israel and Syria starting in early 2024. These meetings, not officially acknowledged by either side focus on technical issues like border security and extrication of armed groups. President Ahmed Al-Sharaa of Syria acknowledged such “indirect negotiations,” saying they aim “to ease tensions”. The goal is to prevent any accident from spiraling out of control.

But at the same time, fighting has continued. Just recently, Israeli jets struck what was described as an arms convoy only 500 meters from the Syrian presidential palace. Israeli officials openly framed these strikes as warnings, particularly targeting Iran’s presence and allied militias. One analysis noted Israel told Syria it will not tolerate any Iranian-backed forces (or other armed groups) near its Golan border. Israel calls this policy “deterrence”, it bombs to signal seriousness, yet says it is still willing to negotiate with Damascus.

Syria’s response has been conciliatory in tone but firm in principle. Sharaa insisted Syria would uphold the 1974 disengagement line and pursue calm. He bluntly accused Israel of violating that agreement during Syria’s war, seizing parts of the demilitarised zone. Damascus has also tried to show that it poses no threat: it is detaining foreign militants on its soil and telling the US that it “will not allow Syria to become a source of threat to any party, including Israel”. Nevertheless, Syria’s leaders make clear that any real normalisation is impossible so long as the Golan remains occupied. Sharaa has said Syria’s priority is a return to the 1974 lines under international supervision.

Coercion and cooperation?

So what is Israel’s game? In practical terms, it appears to be a form of coercive diplomacy. Israel uses limited force (airstrikes, missile barrages) to enforce red lines, for example, it wants Syria fully cleared of Iranian Revolutionary Guards, Hezbollah, and allied militias. Simultaneously, Israeli officials signal willingness to bargain on other security issues, perhaps allowing Syria some breathing room if it expels those forces. This carrot-and-stick mix is reminiscent of Cold War brinkmanship: powers negotiated arms control agreements even as they showed military muscle.

The big question is whether this mixed strategy can ever produce stability. Realist theory suggests that deep adversarial conflicts often only pause, not end. Syria demands the return of the Golan; Israel fears any concessions that might empower Iran; the fundamental dispute (land and influence) remains unresolved. Pragmatists hope that at least a modus vivendi can emerge. Indeed, recent reports hint at modest progress: Syria has publicly indicated willingness to control certain groups in the south, and Israel may (so far only informally) ease off strikes in return. But every agreement is contingent and fragile, easily derailed by spoilers or mistrust.

One lesson from conflict resolution studies is that negotiations under fire are inherently tense. If an Israeli strike accidentally kills civilians, it could send negotiations crashing down. Likewise, if a militant group in Syria attacks Israel at the same time talks are happening, Israelis might suspend dialogue and resume bombing. The fragile equivalence of threats and talks means any misstep could unravel the whole process. So far, Israel’s mixed approach has kept a kind of uneasy peace: Syria has not fired back in force, and Israel’s strikes (though frequent) have stopped short of full invasion. It is a high-wire act.

Implications and theories

For US and UAE mediators, a successful deal might bolster regional stability; an Iran-free southern Syria, for example, could help isolate Tehran and reassure Israel simultaneously. But other interpretations exist. Constructivists would argue identities and narratives still block real trust: Syria will not abandon its historical claims to the Golan, and Israel will not tolerate an Iranian foothold. Liberals might point to the small cooperation here as a hopeful sign that even enemies can find technical agreements.

The handling of Syria might set precedents. If this quiet diplomacy works without formal agreements, it could encourage similar ad-hoc arrangements elsewhere. If it fails, it will reinforce the lesson that Middle Eastern peace requires deep political solutions, not just technical fixes under gunfire.

At the least, the paradox of Israel’s Syria strategy reminds us that peace isn’t always the absence of conflict. Sometimes states talk peace while fighting wars. For the reader, the striking takeaway is this; you cannot bomb genuine peace into existence. Without addressing core grievances (such as the status of the Golan), any arrangement reached under duress will be brittle. Israel’s “bomb them and talk” approach may buy time, but it is not a substitute for a durable resolution. The question it leaves us with is unsettling: can meaningful security ever emerge from such an uneasy truce, or will the next crisis simply explode this paradox once more?

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.