Instead of her son’s wedding ceremony, Ijhad Saadi is preparing his funeral.
Black-clad women crowd the family home, their teary condolences replacing the celebratory chants and zalghoutas – traditional high-pitched trills of joy – that would normally have filled the air.
Only the groom’s room, which Ms Saadi had painstakingly decorated, indicates past hopes, with heart-shaped balloons floating up to the ceiling. “I prepared this to celebrate him, it’s only simple things, it’s what we could afford,” Ms Saadi says, staring at the colourful room, her green eyes full of sadness.
Her son, Hassan, was killed on November 28 in Beit Jinn during an Israeli incursion into the southern Syrian village on the edge of the occupied Golan Heights that prompted deadly clashes with local gunmen. As the Israeli force met resistance on the ground, Israel began to bomb the village, residents told The National, and forced them to take shelter for hours.
The National was able to visit the town a few days later, its streets still bearing the scars of the violence, which killed 13 people, including three children and two women. One house lies in ruins, its walls riddled with holes. The ground is littered with bullets, which children pick up to play marbles under the throbbing sound of an Israeli drone.
The Israeli army said its troops infiltrated the village to detain militants who had “advanced terror attacks against Israeli civilians”. It added that “several armed terrorists opened fire” on its soldiers, who fired back. Six Israeli soldiers were injured in the clashes.
The Israeli army claimed, without providing evidence, that it was targeting the Jamaa Islamiya militant group. The group, a branch of the Muslim Brotherhood based in Lebanon, denied in a statement that it is active in Syria.
Residents denounce the Israeli “pretexts” to justify the attack. “We don’t have such groups here,” Ms Saadi tells The National. She adds that dozens of young men, including Hassan, had spontaneously taken up arms when they saw Israeli tanks approaching the village’s outskirts, fearing the forces would carry out kidnappings.
In a previous raid in June, Israel abducted seven men from the village. Three more were abducted in the latest attack, one of whom was later released, according to residents.
“Hassan wanted to resist these people entering our village, our homes, going near our women. There was no planned operation,” Ms Saadi says.
Ms Saadi saw her son die under Israeli fire while shooting at the armoured vehicle. She did not try to stop him. “The last thing he told me was, ‘Mother, death is just death.’ He wanted to defend our land.”
Israel has routinely conducted incursions into southern Syria, seizing swathes of territory, destroying houses and building military bases. Experts have described the strategy as a “new security doctrine” since October 7, 2023, that is aimed at creating buffer zones – not only in Syria, but also in south Lebanon, which it bombs daily.
Beit Jinn residents say they cannot approach the outskirts of their village without Israel firing at them and their herds, killing sheep and preventing them from accessing fertile land.
From allies to ‘terrorists’
Israel says it does not trust Ahmad Al Shara, a former Al Qaeda fighter turned statesman, because of his background, and it has bombed much of Syria’s heavy arsenal. Damascus has repeatedly said it does not seek war with its neighbour and has not retaliated against Israel.
For Beit Jinn residents, Israel’s attacks are all the more unsettling because it was once on their side, quietly supporting the area of the village that fought Assad forces during Syria’s civil war.
Ali, speaking under pseudonym, used to be among those rebel fighters. He says he battled forces loyal to Bashar Al Assad and Hezbollah militants, once the dictator’s most loyal allies.
“Let me ask you something: how Israel was treating us, giving us medicine, giving us weapons to bring down Bashar, and now, after Bashar fell, did we suddenly become Islamists? How? There’s no logic,” Ali says.
He took part in repelling Israeli forces during last week’s incursion, and says he won’t hesitate to do it again. “We will be even stronger if they come back,” he adds.
Divided village
Beit Jinn reflects the complexities of Syria’s civil war. While the lower part of the village, including men like Hassan and Ali, fought against Mr Al Assad, the upper part sided with his regime, particularly with the Fourth Division led by Maher Al Assad, Bashar’s brother. “It was us against them,” Ali says.
After the fall of the regime, resentment lingered in the tiny but divided village marked by years of clashes and killings, a nuance which Israel did not account for when it attacked the upper and lower part of Beit Jinn, indiscriminately targeting both former allies and foes.
Reports said that newly formed, Iran-aligned groups in Syria have exploited the country’s fragile political transition to expand, building their narrative around Israeli attacks and the occupation of southern Syria to justify their military presence.
One of these groups, Uli Al Baas, published a statement condemning the Beit Jinn Israeli attack as a “failed attempt to terrorise people”, and stating that it “will never surrender nor submit”.
The National could not verify whether militant cells were active in the area. In the upper part of the village, locals denied any militant activity.
Civilians, however, were on the front line of last week’s Israeli attack. Amina Hamadeh, 57, says she spent a “night of terror” confined to the underground level of her house amid the bombs.
One blast was louder than the rest. She did not know it at the time, but it was the next-door house being destroyed, killing her neighbours – two brothers, one of their wives, and two of their children, aged 14 and four. “They didn’t pull them out until the morning,” Ms Hamadeh says.
Eleven-year-old Ali, who survived the strike along with his sister, waited next to his dead parents until rescuers came.
Amid the rubble of his house, he recounts his ordeal. “I don't feel anything, I don't know what I will do,” he says blankly, holding his small body rigid, unable to absorb his terrifying memories, the latest in Syria's long cycle of violence.
