Greg Bouwer
IINZ
In a region torn by sectarian violence, brutal dictatorship, and the rise and fall of jihadist fiefdoms, the survival of minorities is far from guaranteed. Among these minorities, the Druze have long stood as a symbol of resilience, loyalty, and integrity. Their unique monotheistic faith, secretive and deeply spiritual, traces its roots back over a thousand years. Unlike many others, they have not sought expansion, dominion, or revenge – but simply the right to live in peace on their ancestral lands.
And for this, they are being hunted.
Across the war-scarred terrain of Syria, Islamist militants (unable to reach Israel or strike directly at Jews) have turned their hatred against the Druze. To these extremists, the Druze represent both a theological aberration and a political betrayal. Not only are they non-Sunni, they are also seen as collaborators with Israel – guilty by association for maintaining peaceful, even friendly, ties with the Jewish state.
This targeting is not incidental. It is intentional and strategic. In the twisted worldview of jihadist groups such as Jabhat al-Nusra (now Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham), ISIS, and others, minorities that seek peace with Israel are worse than enemies – they are traitors to the cause of perpetual conflict. The Druze defy the jihadist narrative, and therefore must be destroyed.
The most searing example came in July 2018, when ISIS launched coordinated suicide attacks and raids on the Druze city of Sweida in southern Syria. Over 250 people were massacred – mostly civilians. Women were taken as hostages. Children were abducted. Entire families were wiped out. And the world? It blinked. Then it moved on.
No international outrage. No emergency sessions at the UN. No humanitarian coalition formed. The names of the victims were never chanted in foreign parliaments. Their stories did not make the front pages. The Druze, it seems, were the wrong kind of minority — too loyal to Israel, too inconvenient for those who prefer their victims to serve a political narrative.
Israel, for its part, has done more than most. Though its capacity to intervene directly in Syria is limited by strategic realities and international law, it has not turned its back on the Druze. Over the course of the Syrian Civil War, Israel has quietly coordinated with Druze leaders across the border, provided humanitarian assistance, and treated wounded Syrians (including many Druze) in its hospitals. Israeli Druze citizens, who serve in the IDF with distinction, have pressed their government to do more to protect their Syrian kin. And unlike so many others, the Israeli government listened.
This is more than an ethnic or religious concern – it is a moral test. The Druze are not being persecuted because they are a threat. They are being persecuted because they are peaceful, because they are different, and because they have dared to align themselves with a vision of coexistence rather than conquest.
In the global conversation about Israel and the Middle East, this should matter. But too often, those who position themselves as defenders of human rights become suddenly silent when the victims are allied with Israel, or when their suffering does not fit neatly into an anti-Israel narrative. This moral inconsistency is not just cowardly – it is dangerous. It rewards extremism and punishes moderation. It tells every minority in the region that if they choose peace with Israel, they choose abandonment by the world.
New Zealand, a nation known for its principled foreign policy and humanitarian commitments, has been conspicuously silent. Despite recent reports of Druze being targeted again in southern Syria, New Zealand has made no official comment. No condemnation. No statement of concern. Not even a symbolic gesture of solidarity. Its silence has been deafening.
And that silence is not neutral. It speaks louder than any statement could. It tells the Druze (and the world) that even nations that pride themselves on moral clarity will avert their gaze when the victims are inconvenient and the perpetrators ideologically complex. It signals that some lives are simply easier to ignore.
New Zealand has previously demonstrated courage on the world stage, whether standing against apartheid or advocating for nuclear disarmament. That legacy is worth preserving – but it demands consistency. If we champion human rights, we must do so even when the victims are few and their allies unpopular. The world does not need more posturing. It needs moral clarity.
The Druze have chosen dignity over dogma. They have chosen to serve and build rather than to destroy. And they have chosen to stand with Israel, even when it has cost them dearly. The least the world can do (the absolute least) is to stand with them in return.
New Zealand must speak. Because when it doesn’t, the message is still heard. And it is not one of justice.
This article was originally published by the Israel Institute of New Zealand.
