In a week marked by symbolic gestures, high-stakes diplomacy, and lingering uncertainty, the relationship between Syria, Israel, and the United States has entered uncharted territory. The catalyst: interim Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa’s unprecedented visit to the White House on November 17, 2025, and the swift, provocative reaction it triggered from Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. The events have left both regional actors and Washington insiders scrambling to interpret the new dynamics—and to brace for what comes next.
Al-Sharaa’s arrival in Washington was historic by any measure. According to Syrian analyst Radwan Ziadeh, speaking on the “Timeline” program, “This was the first visit for any sitting Syrian president to Washington and to the White House. … No one could imagine this a year ago.” That’s not hyperbole. Just twelve months earlier, Bashar al-Assad still clung to power. Al-Sharaa himself, a former al-Qaeda-affiliated rebel fighter, had been on a US terrorist watch list with a $10 million bounty on his head. Yet, after leading the ouster of Assad in December 2024, al-Sharaa now found himself sitting across from President Donald Trump—who, in a gesture that would soon reverberate across the region, sprayed his own branded perfume on the Syrian leader and his foreign minister during their Oval Office meeting.
The perfume incident, described by Ynet and other Israeli outlets as both symbolic and provocative, set off alarm bells in Tel Aviv. Israeli officials interpreted Trump’s overt friendliness as a sign that the US might be warming to Syrian demands—especially as al-Sharaa returned from Washington “more confident,” according to several Israeli sources. The very next day, Netanyahu staged an unusually high-profile tour of occupied southern Syria, flanked by senior ministers and security chiefs. Photos released by Netanyahu’s office showed him in a helmet and protective vest, binoculars in hand, surveying the buffer zone and Mount Hermon.
During a heated security cabinet meeting on November 20, Netanyahu reportedly unleashed a verbal tirade against al-Sharaa. As Israel’s radio broadcaster Kan Reshet Bet reported, Netanyahu told ministers: “The Golan guy came back from Washington puffed up, and he has started doing things we will not accept.” Defense Minister Israel Katz, not one to let the perfume episode pass, added sarcastically, “He came back perfumed.” The message was clear: Israel saw the US-Syria rapprochement as a direct challenge to its own security interests, particularly in the Golan Heights, a region Israel has occupied since 1967 and which remains a flashpoint of regional tension.
Analyst Ron Ben-Yishai, writing for Yedioth Ahronoth, noted that the tour was a calculated political and military gesture, intended to send a signal not just to Damascus, but also to Washington, Ankara, and Moscow. Israel’s current presence in the occupied Golan Heights, he argued, is seen by Israeli leaders as “the minimum required to protect its settlements there unless Syria agrees to demilitarise its south and accept Israeli control over Mount Hermon.” The delegation accompanying Netanyahu—Defense Minister Katz, incoming army chief Eyal Zamir, Shin Bet director David Zini, and Foreign Minister Gideon Sa’ar—underscored the gravity of the moment.
But what exactly is Israel demanding? According to Ynet, Israel has presented Syria with a new set of security requirements: a demilitarized zone stretching from Damascus south to the Jordanian border and extending about 30 kilometers east into the Hauran region, free of heavy weapons and Iranian-backed fighters. Israel also insists on maintaining a permanent presence on Mount Hermon, which it captured last December, and seeks approval for a land corridor from the occupied Golan to Druze villages around Sweida. These demands, at least for now, appear non-negotiable.
Meanwhile, the diplomatic thaw between Washington and Damascus is reshaping the landscape in other ways. On November 10, the Trump administration announced the reopening of the Syrian embassy in Washington, D.C., after an 11-year hiatus. The embassy, shuttered in 2014 after three years of civil war, stands as a battered relic in the city’s Kalorama district. As AFP reported, the building is in such disrepair that it may take years before it’s fully operational again. Former Syrian diplomat Bassam Barabandi, who left his post in 2013 after secretly helping regime opponents, recalled that even then, parts of the embassy were “partially condemned.”
The reopening of the Syrian embassy is more than just a bureaucratic footnote. It’s a potent symbol of Syria’s abrupt realignment away from Iran and Russia, and toward the West. “It shows the radical change of the Syrian foreign policy after the fall of the Assad regime. … It’s shifting toward the West, Europe and the United States, giving Syrians promises that a new future is coming,” Ziadeh told his interviewers. Trump’s administration, for its part, has moved quickly: in June, the president signed an executive order lifting sanctions against Syria, a move the White House said would support the country’s “path to stability and peace.”
Yet the optimism is tempered by deep skepticism—especially about the prospects for democracy and national cohesion in Syria. Ziadeh warned that al-Sharaa “has no views on a democratic transition in Syria. It’s been a year, and he never used the word ‘democracy’ at all. He still believes that this word is a part of Western ideology and is not suitable for the Syrian people.” The new constitutional declaration, he argued, merely concentrates power in the executive, leaving parliament and the judiciary without meaningful independence. Minority groups, including Kurds, Druze, Alawites, and Christians, remain wary. Recent violence between Sunni Bedouin fighters and Druze militias, as well as killings of Alawites, have stoked fears that the new order may not be much more inclusive than the old.
Still, there’s no denying that the ground has shifted. A recent Arab Center poll found that roughly 70 percent of Syrians are optimistic about the country’s direction, though that optimism is not shared equally among minorities. The first year after Assad’s fall has been propped up by a “regional alliance” of Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and Turkey, who have helped the interim authorities establish basic state capacity—from running airports to managing security. US special envoy Tom Barack, also ambassador to Turkey, has played a key role in pushing for sanctions relief and encouraging foreign investment. Reconstruction costs, according to World Bank figures cited by Ziadeh, are estimated at a staggering $297 billion.
Meanwhile, the Kalorama neighborhood in Washington tells its own story about the state of world diplomacy. Alongside the newly reopened Syrian embassy, other diplomatic missions—Afghanistan’s, Russia’s, Iran’s—remain shuttered, their fates tied to the violent jolts of international politics. The State Department, invoking the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations, is responsible for maintaining these empty buildings, but as the Russian Embassy told AFP, denying access “borders on theft.” The landscape is a patchwork of overgrown lawns, yellowing newspapers, and locked gates—a visual reminder that diplomatic breakthroughs, when they occur, are rare and hard-won.
As the dust settles from this week’s whirlwind of events, one thing is clear: the region is entering a new, uncertain phase. The gestures may be symbolic, but the stakes—security, sovereignty, and the possibility of peace—are all too real.