Author: M Barbu

Shortly after Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) drove Bashar al-Assad out of Syria last year, the group pledged to respect the rights of minorities. Yet, since HTS took control over much of the country, some across the international community have raised fears that Syria’s new leaders—with their jihadist backgrounds—might erode minority rights or exclude these communities from the political transition process. These fears have been newly flamed by the massive, targeted violence against Alawites on Syria’s coast during the second week of March. Nevertheless, there have been some signs for optimism about the inclusion of at least some minorities in post-Assad Syria.

This analysis draws on my conversations with members of these groups as well as HTS leadership over the past several years as a consultant with the International Crisis Group and an independent researcher. The people I spoke with were granted anonymity given the tenuous security situation in the country and their ongoing political work.

There are legitimate reasons for worry, specifically about the future of the Alawite community. In March, Alawite insurgents linked to the former regime launched a coordinated attack against security forces. Government forces, independent armed factions, and Sunni vigilantes mobilized in response, engaging in nearly four days of mass executions, killing more than six hundred Alawite civilians and detained insurgents. The insurgency by ex-regime elements is still ongoing.

This violence and the state’s inability to control both its own forces and the independent forces has reignited fears over minorities’ safety, but these devastating events should not be viewed as indicative of the fate of other minorities. The violence is rooted in the fact that, over Syria’s brutal civil war, Alawite men formed the core of the regime’s fighting forces and intelligence apparatus and that the Alawite sect has come to be linked to the regime via both Assad’s policies and Sunni extremist narratives. These political and social dynamics do not apply to other minority groups.

For the other minority groups, there are positive indications that they will be included in post-Assad Syria. Even before entering Damascus, HTS had been reaching out to Syria’s minorities in Idlib for sensitive, but successful, diplomatic engagement for five years. Christian leaders in Idlib told me in a meeting in 2022 that HTS had consistently reached out to them, first through senior religious figures and then through dedicated political attachés. HTS appointed these individuals—and thus engaged with these communities—directly, rather than through the Syrian Salvation Government that HTS and other opposition groups had formed to administer Idlib. These political attachés came to serve as advocates for the local communities, representing their demands to the Salvation Government and HTS security forces.

Through this, Christians in rural Idlib gradually regained control over their homes and farms and restarted public prayers. Additionally, security forces halted attacks on Christian communities. The engagement process was long and arduous, and, as HTS leaders told me in 2022, early on they were fearful that they’d face backlash from hardliners and populists in Idlib. However, as the years passed and the Christian community grew ever more integrated into Idlib’s society and the local government, HTS’s fears gradually ebbed.

Growing from this experience, HTS engaged with Syrian community and diaspora leaders just days into its final military offensive in late 2024. This diplomatic offensive helped ensure that HTS could sweep through Syria without taking many minority regions by force. The discussions, which took place primarily during the first week of December last year, resulted in a particularly strong relationship between HTS and Syria’s Christian and Ismaili minorities and also ushered in a new era of relations with groups previously seen as close to the regime.

A diplomatic offensive, from Nubl and Zahraa . . .

For example, the collapse of the regime in Aleppo in November last year spread panic through the nearby Shia towns of Nubl and Zahraa—once lynchpins of the regime’s defensive lines. Local Facebook pages claimed that two thousand Shia civilians had fled their homes, seeking shelter first in Aleppo and then in the town of Safira, where Hezbollah and Iran had built a strong militia network. By December 1, Safira came under at least partial opposition control, and regime forces abandoned the displaced people, resulting in widespread panic on Facebook over the fate of the civilians. On December 2, negotiations officially began between HTS and leaders from the displaced community to return them to their homes in Nubl and Zahraa, according to what an individual who facilitated the talks told me.

The negotiations began after members of the displaced community were able to reach one political activist living abroad, who told me that he helped establish a line to HTS’s political bureau and helped mediate. This initial experience quickly evolved into a small, multi-sect organization of activists representing a range of communities still under Assad’s rule—particularly the Ismaili-dominated cities of Masyaf and Salamiyah—all eager to assist in the peaceful handing over of their communities.

. . . to eastern Hama

This diplomatic approach expanded as HTS advanced on northern Hama. The city of Salamiyah, lying east of Hama, played a crucial role in the regime’s defense as it hosted the headquarters of several important regime militias operating in the countryside. But it also had a vibrant revolutionary movement dating back to the 1980s, particularly led by its Ismaili majority. “Ismailis have always opposed the regime,” one Ismaili activist told me, “but we work through political and civil means, not arms.” Salamiyah is also home to the Syrian National Ismaili Council, which supports and guides the Ismaili community across Syria. These factors opened the door to negotiations with HTS.

I spent several days in Salamiyah in early February, meeting with National Ismaili Council leader Rania Qasim and other security and civil society officials in discussions about the negotiations and resulting relations with HTS. According to Qasim, on December 2, HTS’s political bureau contacted her to initiate talks. The talks were led by Qasim and a representative from the Aga Khan Foundation, an international Ismaili humanitarian organization. The negotiations also included a coordination committee formed by the Ismaili Council’s Emergency Operations Center. Qasim told me that she and the other leaders of the negotiations saw themselves as participating in such talks on behalf of all communities across the Salamiyah region, not just Ismailis.

According to Qasim, the discussion focused on the fate of regime fighters in the region and on how HTS would enter the city of Salamiyah. The council, according to the people I spoke with, refused to provide cover for any criminals in the city, agreeing instead to HTS’s general taswiya (settlement) policy—employed nationally after the fall of Assad—that saw a grace period for all armed men to turn in their weapons and receive temporary civilian identification documents, but it did not provide them with blanket amnesty. In return, it was agreed that pro-regime fighters would lay down their weapons while HTS units simply drove through the main street on their way south to Homs. The coordination committee also agreed it would send a delegation to the outskirts of Salamiyah to meet the HTS convoy and escort them through the city.

These negotiations marked a significant first step in HTS’s relationship with the Ismaili community in Salamiyah. According to Qasim, the council spent the three-day negotiation repeatedly announcing to Salamiyah residents, “the council and the community will not fight; if you want to fight, it will be your own decision.” This message was carried even to some of the most infamous Alawite villages, such as Sabburah, where two pro-revolution Alawite ex-political detainees then worked within their village to ensure the local fighters agreed to lay down their weapons. Yet the Ismaili Council itself has never been affiliated with any armed faction and had no communication with regime military leaders; Qasim emphasized that at no point did they negotiate with or on behalf of any armed regime faction.

Instead, HTS leaders had to trust that the Ismaili Council had the influence needed to pacify the regime militias and ensure HTS’s safe entry into the city and surrounding villages. In fact, there was only one small skirmish—in the village of Tal Khaznah, on the road south to Homs—but otherwise, the handover of eastern Hama on December 4 was peaceful, local security officials and members of the Ismaili Council told me. According to Ismaili leaders in Salamiyah and Tartous, the Assad regime responded to these rapid negotiations by sending security officials to the Ismaili Council in Tartous and threatening them, telling them that their relatives in Salamiyah were “traitors.” However, the regime collapsed before these officials could follow through on any threats.

I was told that throughout this three-day negotiation period, other negotiations also took place on a more individual basis. Opposition fighters from both HTS and other factions who were from Salamiyah had begun reaching out to friends and families in their villages. One young commander remembered calling his family as his unit approached eastern Hama and asking them to connect him with the village’s mukhtar, telling me, “why would I want to risk fighting my father or brother?” He now leads a general security detachment in the countryside around his mixed-sect village, where he sees himself as bound to protect all locals no matter their sect.

The handover of the Salamiyah region was only the beginning of talks between HTS and the Ismaili Council, according to the Ismaili leaders I spoke with. The national council oversees seven regional branches, including ones in Tartous and Masyaf. With the regime still in control of western Syria, the Ismaili Council began negotiating on behalf of communities there. For its part, HTS ended its operations on the Masyaf front the same day it liberated Hama city, pausing its westward advance at the edge of the Ismaili- and Alawite-inhabited foothills. Ismaili leaders also told me that they began to share their positive experiences engaging with HTS with their contacts in the heavily pro-regime Christian towns of Muhradeh and Suqaylabiyah, which had ceased fighting but remained besieged by HTS. Those towns quickly concluded their own negotiations, which saw the peaceful entry of HTS units.

A foundation for a new Syria

The initial negotiations appear to have laid a strong foundation of trust that has extended beyond Salamiyah. According to the head of the Tartous Ismaili Council, HTS’s local military official met with the council the day after entering Tartous. The council was then invited to a general meeting between local representatives and HTS officials, was given a new line of communication with HTS’s political representative, and finally was welcomed to meetings with the new administrator of Tartous governorate. All of this evolved over just ten days. As one Ismaili official in Tartous described it to me, “It seems that the new government truly respects and has a special relationship with the Ismaili community. This came as a huge shock because we had never spoken with them before and had the same fears as the Alawites until December.”

HTS’s diplomatic offensive demonstrates the leadership’s political approach, which evolved over years of engaging with the Christian and Druze communities in Idlib. HTS leaders had justified these new policies to me years ago as a political necessity for one day governing a country as diverse as Syria and for legitimizing the movement among minority communities who only knew of the organization from its days as an al-Qaeda affiliate, then called Nusra Front. This understanding that Syria cannot be ruled as an Islamist Sunni country (but instead must be led as a country of diverse ethnic and religious backgrounds) has begun to shape the post-Assad era—at least at a local administration and security level.

The initial Salamiyah negotiations laid a strong foundation of cooperation that has continued to grow, ensuring the Ismailis across Syria “feel confident we will be fully represented in the constitutional process,” as a leader from the Tartous office told me. In Salamiyah, the Ismaili Council now plays a central role in the region’s administration, facilitating civil-political engagement, running a volunteer security force to assist local police, and hosting a security committee consisting of both civilian and military representatives to address security gaps and any violations committed by government forces.

Such relations have grown even stronger in the coastal city of Qadmus. According to two local Ismaili activists I spoke with, a small Ismaili volunteer force has been supporting the undermanned government police forces in Qadmus since December. Government forces have even provided these volunteers with small arms, while a new Ismaili-run local council has worked closely with the regime-era mukhtar—also an Ismaili—to coordinate services and administration with the HTS-appointed regional director. The council has also engaged in outreach with the Alawite villages around Qadmus, serving as a bridge between the new local administration and the Alawites.

Despite these efforts, their close relationship with the new government has made the Ismailis in Qadmus a prime target for pro-Assad Alawites, who killed two Ismaili security volunteers in late February and an Ismaili Council member and two government police officers on March 6. When the March uprising began, the Ismailis tried to protect the government forces in the town, eventually negotiating for their safe exit from the area after being besieged by insurgents. However, as a result, they faced widespread threats—by Alawites both in person and over WhatsApp—for “siding with the government,” local residents told me. Security forces eventually peacefully reentered Qadmus, and according to the locals I spoke with, the experience has only strengthened their ties with Damascus. Many Ismaili men have now volunteered to support government security forces, with at least some applying to become official security officers. Meanwhile, local security officials are discussing extending salaries to the entire volunteer force. Despite the events of the past week, the city’s local council continues to serve as an intermediary between local security forces and the Alawite villages, as the former works to negotiate the handover of weapons and wanted criminals.

Meanwhile, Christian civil society leaders in Syria’s tense coastal region also described a strong working relationship with local HTS-appointed administrators and security officials. Although they still have concerns centered on basic services, the economy, and the constitutional process, several activists and local Christian leaders told me in February that they did not fear direct attacks from the new government but rather worried about being caught in the growing violence between Alawites and government forces. Christian leaders across Syria were among the first men engaged by pro-opposition security forces in the days after Assad’s fall, with Facebook pages publishing pictures of meetings between military and political leaders and religious figures in rural Damascus, Homs, and Aleppo. As the violence on the coast escalated in March, the head of Aleppo’s Catholic community, Bishop Hanna Jallouf, reiterated the importance of a united Syria, affirmed the good treatment of Christians across the country, and called for a continuation of efforts to fully integrate all minorities into the political process.

These new interfaith and civil-centric networks and relationships will play a central role in shaping post-Assad Syria. However, the new government should do more to engage and empower groups such as the Ismaili and the Christian communities. It should do so both on a local and an international level, by working with groups such as the Aga Khan Foundation (to give Ismailis assurances) and even the Vatican (to do the same with Christians). Such efforts would help expand the local trust built with these groups into genuine representation in Damascus and would give real reason for optimism about the future of Syria’s minorities.

The recent agreement between Syrian President Ahmed Sharaa and the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) commander, Mazloum Abdi, marks a turning point in Syria’s conflict dynamics. According to the deal, all civilian and military institutions in northeastern Syria will be integrated into the Syrian state, effectively dissolving the autonomous governance structures established by the Kurdish People’s Protection Units (YPG)-dominated SDF. This development has been met with widespread celebrations across Syria, symbolizing the country’s reunification under Damascus’s rule. This agreement appears to serve Turkey’s long-standing objective of dismantling the YPG-led autonomous administration and ending the conflict with the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) for good, but Ankara’s optimism remains cautious.

This agreement comes after the historic call by the imprisoned PKK leader Abdullah Öcalan for the dissolution of the PKK and all of its groups. After the Turkish nationalist leader Devlet Bahceli launched the initiative, the conflict between Turkey and the PKK is as close to an end as ever before. Ankara sees the agreement, signed on March 11, 2025, in Damascus, as a critical step towards this goal.

The most significant takeaway for Turkey is that it signals the formal end of the statehood project in northeastern Syria under the Democratic Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria. The YPG is the Syrian branch of the PKK, a designated terrorist organization by Turkey, the United States, and the European Union. By signing this deal, Mazloum Abdi has essentially conceded the collapse of the autonomous administration project. The absence of any reference to an autonomous region in the agreement and the fact that Abdi was addressed solely by name rather than his military title further reinforce this perspective.

Ambiguities that warrant caution

Despite the positive signals, two critical ambiguities within the agreement require scrutiny. The first pertains to the wording of Article 4, which states that all civil and military institutions in northeastern Syria will be “integrated” into the Syrian state.

The SDF initially demanded to join the Syrian army as a separate bloc, which led to a stalemate in the negotiations. Sources in Damascus told the author that the SDF won’t join as a separate bloc but that it will be dissolved, and its members will join the army individually. An interview by Mazloum Abdi indicates the same. The SDF has also accepted another key Turkish demand: for non-Syrian PKK cadres to leave Syria.

However, certain SDF-affiliated voices are presenting an alternative reading, claiming that the SDF will retain its organizational structure while merely operating under the Syrian state’s framework. This contradiction suggests that some within the SDF may not be on board with the agreement or that the ambiguity in the agreement may cause disagreements in the future. Conflicting narratives such as these increase the risk of potential for non-compliance or future renegotiations.

The second major uncertainty lies in Article 8, which outlines a transition period for implementing the agreement, stating that a commission will oversee its execution by the end of the year. An eight-person committee has already been established. This prolonged timeline introduces risks, including potential backtracking by the SDF or external interference by third-party actors seeking to derail the process. The nine-month implementation period provides ample opportunity for complications to arise, whether due to internal resistance within the SDF, sabotage attempts by foreign powers, or operational difficulties in fully integrating SDF-controlled institutions into the Syrian state.
Strategic implications for Turkey

Syria has been a key in Turkey’s approach to the PKK, and from Ankara’s perspective, the agreement represents an opportunity. It aligns with Ankara’s goal of preventing the establishment of a semi-independent PKK entity on its southern border. But more importantly, the agreement furthers the Turkish strategy to convince the PKK to dissolve itself and end the terror threat towards Turkey.

On February 27, 2025 the imprisoned leader of the PKK made a historic call for the dissolution of the group. Following this call, the PKK declared a unilateral ceasefire and stated its readiness to discuss its dissolution. The pro-Kurdish Peoples’ Equality and Democracy Party (DEP) in Turkey has been a critical mediator during the process and fully supports the initiative. The last time Turkey tried a peace process with the PKK, it ended miserably with an escalation of violence inside cities in Turkey’s southeast. Between 2013 and 2015, Turkey tried a negotiated settlement with the PKK. This time, Turkey is acting differently.

This time, the Turkish counter-terrorism operations are not halted, and Ankara’s approach is that of a government victory against the PKK. The rationale is clear: the PKK’s strategy failed. Turkish military operations succeeded in eliminating all guerilla capabilities of the PKK inside Turkey, ended the PKK’s ability to infiltrate into Turkey via Iraqi Kurdistan, and cornered the PKK’s branch in Syria.

Geopolitical shifts in the Middle East elevate the Turkish position dramatically. The YPG-dominated SDF lost all of its territories on the western side of the Euphrates River and faces huge pressure in a post-Bashar al-Assad Syria. The SDF no longer receives Russian military protection or Iranian weapon supplies and no longer has an Assad regime to cooperate with against Turkey. Turkey now has an ally in Damascus and has managed to gain the support of Arab and European states for Syria.

The only remaining support the SDF enjoys is the US support against the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS)and the Israeli strategy to divide Syria along sectarian and ethnic lines. Despite Israeli rhetoric, Israel is unlikely to support the SDF in a meaningful way and antagonize Turkey. The United States, under the administration of President Donald Trump, is unlikely to remain in Syria. To avoid a military operation by Turkey in a post-withdrawal scenario, the United States has reportedly pushed the SDF to reach an agreement with Damascus. The Trump administration only really cares about the ISIS angle. Knowing this, Turkey formed a security cooperation with Lebanon, Iraq, Jordan, and Syria to take over the anti-ISIS mission from the US-led international coalition. It was no coincidence that the SDF agreed to sign a deal with the interim Syrian authorities after the summit in Amman. It was unimaginable a year ago, but the Turkish and American approaches to SDF are currently overlapping.

From the domestic level to geopolitics, all stars appear to be aligned for Ankara. By allowing the PKK and affiliates to engage in legal politics in Turkey and Syria, Turkish decision-makers are very close to achieving a historic gain. The four-decade-long conflict may end.

That being said, the uncertainties surrounding the implementation necessitate continued vigilance. The most critical factor for Turkey is how the Syrian regime will handle the military integration of SDF forces. If the SDF leadership retains operational autonomy under the Syrian army’s banner, it could pose a continued security threat to Turkey. Turkey is not a party to the agreement, meaning it retains full flexibility in responding to any unfavorable developments.
Turkey’s strategy moving forward

Given the historic opportunity and the uncertainties, Turkey will adopt a three-layered strategy to ensure the implementation of the agreement aligns with its national security interests. First, Ankara will maintain its military pressure in northeastern Syria to deter any backtracking by the SDF. The Turkish government has consistently emphasized its readiness to intervene militarily in Syria if necessary, and this agreement does not alter that stance. The continuity of Turkish airstrikes against the SDF and the PKK are a reflection of this stance.

Second, Turkey will actively engage in diplomatic talks with Damascus and Washington to ensure that the agreement leads to a complete dissolution of the SDF’s military structure rather than a superficial rebranding. Back-channel diplomacy between Turkey and the United States, as well as American pressure on the SDF, was particularly essential in making this agreement possible. The American role will remain integral for the upcoming 9-month-long implementation phase.

Third, the PKK’s ultimate decision and action will be essential in shaping the agreement’s implementation. Therefore, the implementation phase in Syria will strongly depend on domestic Turkish political developments. The current narrative on a Turkish-Kurdish alliance is essential for the deal in Syria to continue. Furthermore, the PKK cadres in the Qandil Mountains in Iraq and Iran could reject Öcalan’s call. Even if the PKK accepts to dissolve itself, the process to do so remains unknown. Turkey’s approach to Syria’s northeast will be in sync with the developments regarding the PKK’s central and Turkish domestic politics.

It is long past time Tzipi Hotovely was expelled from London. Starmer’s inaction proves he has no intention of stopping his support for Israel’s crimes in Gaza.

2WEF3RT Benjamin Netanyahu, Prime Minister of Israel, Ambassador Tzipi Hotovely (behind) visit to the United Kingdom, London, UK

Tzipi Hotovely leaves 10 Downing Street with Benjamin Netanyahu in 2023. (Photo: Imageplotter / Alamy)

Keir Starmer has been desperately searching for ways to make it look as if his government is getting tough with Israel.

As public anger grows at images from Gaza of emaciated children, echoing historic images of Jewish children being starved in Nazi concentration camps like Auschwitz, the British prime minister needs to be seen doing something.

There are many ways he could take meaningful action to end the UK’s complicity in Israel’s saturation bombing of Gaza and its starvation of the enclave’s population.

He could stop shipping arms to Israel, and stop transferring weapons from the United States and Germany. He could stop supplying Israel with intelligence from British spy planes that have been constantly operating over Gaza from RAF’s Akrotiri base on Cyprus.

He could recognise Palestine. He could prosecute British-Israeli soldiers taking part in the genocide. He could stop hosting suspected Israeli war criminals in London, as Declassified has documented. He could tear up special trade agreements with Israel. The list goes on.

Has he done any of this? No.

Sham sanctions

Nominal “punishment” came last September when Starmer very publicly announced a cut in UK arms sales to Israel. He hoped no one would read the small print: it amounted to a paltry eight per cent reduction.

But even this turned out to be a sham. In fact, as data released last month showed, British arms sales to Israel hit record levels in the three months following the announcement.

The only other significant sanction against Israel was not even tangible. Starmer declared last month he was suspending – that is, postponing – a new round of trade talks with Israel until it stopped blocking aid to Gaza.

Israel’s ambassador to the UK, Tzipi Hotovely, was summoned to the Foreign Office to have the decision communicated to her.

In fact, that slap on the wrist appears to have been chiefly spin too.

Shortly afterwards, the UK embassy in Israel tweeted an image of Ian Austin, the government’s trade envoy to Israel, on a visit to the Israeli city of Haifa.

When questioned by the Financial Times about why Austin was in Israel, Starmer’s government said Britain was still keen to maintain its existing business relationships.

The truth is that even the government’s highly circumscribed “sanctions” against Israel are nothing more than hollow threats. It has been, and continues to be, business as usual with Israel throughout the Gaza genocide.

Propagandist for genocide

What Starmer and his foreign secretary, David Lammy, should have done – had they even the slightest interest in distancing themselves from Israel’s genocidal extremism – is not just summon Hotovely for another apologetic chat but actually demand her expulsion.

Such an action is necessary not chiefly because she is the main representative in London of a genocidal Israeli government. There is an argument to be made that the UK government needs direct diplomatic channels of communication with Israel, even during a genocide.

But unlike her predecessors, Hotovely is not a diplomat. She is a hard-right politician – a loyal ally of Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu – who has served for the past 20 months as the leading apologist and cheerleader for genocide on British soil.

Her constant incitement has been in flagrant violation of the 1948 Genocide Convention to which the UK is a signatory. Britain has a legal obligation to remove her from a post in which she has fomented support in Britain for the most serious crimes against humanity.

The UK is effectively sheltering a war crimes suspect.

Her influence is likely to have contributed to the commission of crimes by British citizens travelling abroad to join the Israeli military.

After her expulsion, Israel would be entitled to replace her with a real diplomat, one who operates within the confines of British and international law.

But Britain should not be hosting a foreign official acting as a propagandist for genocide.

An online petition, set up in December 2023, calling for the Israeli ambassador to be expelled has attracted more than 170,000 verified signatures – an unprecedented public display of disgust at her continuing presence in the UK.

Inciting violence

It is preposterous for Starmer to blame Netanyahu for “horrific” and “intolerable” scenes in Gaza when one of the Israeli prime minister’s most fanatical aides is comfortably ensconced in London justifying these horrors.

It was Hotovely who less than three months into Israel’s slaughter in Gaza rationalised its crimes by claiming a supposed Hamas underground “terror city” was connected by tunnels to “every school, every mosque, every second house”.

The journalist interviewing her interjected that this was “an argument for destroying the whole of Gaza, every single building”. Which, of course, is exactly what Israel has gone on to do.

Hotovely responded: “Do you have another solution?”

Her “solution” has left Gaza without any of the basic infrastructure – homes, hospitals, schools, bakeries, government offices, water treatment plants – needed for its population to survive.

She was inciting again last month when she appeared on the popular online chat show Piers Morgan Uncensored. Under unusually tough questioning from Morgan, she asserted in defiance of international law that Israel was “allowed to attack hospitals”.

When Morgan pressed her repeatedly to explain how she could claim Israel has a low civilian to combatant kill ratio when she had no idea how many children Israel had killed in Gaza, Hotovely twice responded: “That’s irrelevant.”

As Morgan pointed out, Hotovely’s dismissal of the death toll among Gaza’s children suggested she regarded those deaths as inconsequential. A less benign reading of her refusal to answer was that she sees those children as legitimate targets.

The official number of children killed – almost certainly a large undercount – is 16,500. Last week a senior Unicef official assessed there may be in excess of 50,000 children dead or injured.

‘All the land is ours’

Hotovely’s incitement did not come out of nowhere. When Netanyahu appointed her as his deputy foreign minister in 2015, she insisted that the Palestinians would never be allowed a state on any part of their historic homeland.

She said: “This land is ours. All of it is ours.”

In 2019, she accused the fervently Israel-supporting British Board of Deputies of “working against Israeli interests” after it tentatively expressed support for a “viable Palestinian state”.

She again reiterated that position in December 2023, as ambassador, saying she did not accept the positions of the UK government and the United Nations in support of an independent Palestinian state.

She referred to Palestinians as a “radical people” – a racist and dehumanising formulation intended to suggest that there could be no peace with the Palestinians and that Israel was therefore justified in slaughtering them.

Making sure no one could misunderstand what she means by the extent of Israel’s sovereignty, she has observed: “Between the sea and the Jordan River, there needs to be one state, only the state of Israel”.

Notably, in an act of pure projection, Hotovely has claimed that, in contrast to her own ethnic supremacist agenda, pro-Palestinian demonstrators who call for equal rights for Jews and Palestinians in the same area – “between the river and the sea” – are calling for genocide.

In late 2023, she claimed Jews “don’t feel safe” on London’s streets because of the large marches against Israel’s genocide in Gaza: “They [British Jews] see the same jihadi ideology on the streets of London as in Gaza.”

Hotovely’s history

Hotovely made her name in Netanyahu’s Likud party early on, when she was still a young backbench MP. In 2009, she openly called for the annexation of the West Bank, before that position all but became official Israeli policy.

In 2013 she developed a blueprint for annexation in an essay titled “The five-stage plan for the Greater Land of Israel”. It included a provision in which only those serving in Israel’s army would qualify for citizenship – a transparent way to exclude Palestinians from meaningful rights.

Her fanaticism earnt her the position in 2020 of Israel’s first-ever minister for the settlements. She views these illegal, Jewish-only colonies – declared illegal by the International Court of Justice last year – as a weapon to dispossess Palestinians and deprive them of any hope of Palestinian statehood.

Hotovely is openly Islamophobic and denies the history of the Palestinian people. In 2020, shortly after taking up her position as ambassador, she called the Nakba – the well-documented expulsion in 1948 of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians by the newly declared state of Israel – an “Arab lie”.

She has been supportive of hardline Jewish racial purity groups, such as Lehava, that try to stop relationships between Jews and non-Jews.

And she backs Israel’s takeover of the Al-Aqsa Mosque compound in occupied East Jerusalem, one of the most important Islamic sites in the world. Such a move could set the Middle East on fire.

Radicalising UK Jews

The Israeli ambassador has been undermining British foreign policy towards Israel and Palestine ever since she was appointed to the post five years ago. At that time, there was a campaign by British Jews to stop her bringing her extremist agenda to the UK.

Liberal Jewish community leaders were appalled at the prospect. Jeremy Beecham, a Labour peer, warned that her appointment would “do nothing to win friends in the UK – or indeed any other reasonable country”.

Notably, Britain operates a draconian Prevent programme ostensibly aimed at stopping the radicalisation of minority communities. In practice, it has focused on targeting – and stigmatising – British Muslims, presenting them as especially susceptible to extremism and supportive of terrorism.

However, Hotovely illustrates the way the very same British establishment so obsessed with curbing Muslim extremism not only tolerates dangerous ideological influences on British Jews but actively cooperates with those influences.

Further, those radicalised by Hotovely’s incitement against Palestinians are largely insulated from criticism. Anyone trying to object to her brazen racism – or its impact on attitudes among British Jews – faces being smeared as an antisemite.

In late 2021 pro-Palestinian solidarity activists protested her racist statements outside the London School of Economics as Hotovely gave a lecture there. As she emerged to a waiting car, demonstrators shouted: “Shame on you!” and “Free Palestine!”

The then ruling Conservative government and the opposition Labour party rushed to her defence, denouncing the protest as antisemitic – and, in a moment of peak cognitive dissonance, as an attack on free speech.

Lisa Nandy, then shadow foreign secretary and now the secretary of state for culture, media and sport, called Hotovely’s treatment “appalling”. While Nick Thomas-Symonds, then shadow home secretary and now head of the cabinet office, even more egregiously smeared the protesters. “Antisemitism has no place in our society,” he said.

Time to go

The British establishment has further rallied to her defence since she became Israel’s spokesperson in the UK for the genocide in Gaza.

In March 2024 the Metropolitan police imposed a wide exclusion zone around the area in London in which she lives to stop a group of anti-zionist Jews holding protests outside her home.

The voices calling for her expulsion have grown. In January, the former Labour shadow chancellor John McDonnell called for Israel’s complete isolation, and Hotovely’s removal.

He said: “We have an Israeli ambassador who’s an advocate of Greater Israel, refuses to recognize the Palestinian state, defies all the UN resolutions that have been passed about how we can secure that peace, and she still remains in this country. Why aren’t we expelling the Israeli ambassador?”

Zarah Sultana, an MP sitting as an independent after she was expelled from the Labour party by Starmer for opposing his austerity cuts, has also called for Hotovely’s expulsion, pointing to her “genocidal rhetoric”.

After the petition against Hotovely reached 100,000 signatures, it qualified for a debate in parliament. No such debate has happened. Nor is it likely to.

The truth is, whatever rhetoric the Starmer government deploys to soothe public anger, the British establishment considers its alliance with Israel – and Israel’s patron in Washington – as far more important than the lives of 2 million Palestinians in Gaza.