By: Dr. Adnan Bozan
Syria is no longer merely a country emerging from a prolonged war and seeking to restore its institutions and build a new political order. It has become one of the most sensitive geopolitical arenas in the Middle East, where competing regional and international projects intersect, foremost among them Turkish and Israeli interests. If the previous phase was primarily concerned with the overthrow of the former regime and the redistribution of military power, the coming phase may prove far more complex: a struggle over the shape of the Syrian state, its army, its government, the boundaries of its spheres of influence, and ultimately over who will hold decision-making power in Damascus. Accordingly, talk of “dividing the Syrian pie” should not necessarily be understood as referring to a secret Turkish–Israeli agreement to divide Syria geographically. Rather, it may point to the possibility of competing spheres of influence taking shape, with each side seeking to consolidate a political, security, and military space that prevents the other from gaining the upper hand in Syria.
Turkish–Israeli competition inside Syria became increasingly visible during 2026. Tensions escalated following the Israeli strike on the Syrian airbase of Abu al-Duhur, at a time when Israel claimed that Turkey was preparing to deploy forces there, while Ankara and Damascus denied the existence of a plan to establish a permanent Turkish military base and stressed that the Turkish presence was linked to training and military cooperation. This prompted the United States to work on a mechanism to prevent friction among Turkey, Israel, and Syria—an indication that competition between Ankara and Tel Aviv has become one of the factors shaping Syria’s future and security.
But the more important question is not the military base itself, but what lies behind it: What kind of Syria does Turkey want, and what kind of Syria does Israel want?
Ankara wants a unified and viable Syria under a friendly central authority. At the same time, however, it does not want Syrian territory to become a base for an armed Kurdish force that it regards as a threat to its national security. Turkey also seeks to retain broad political, security, and economic influence within the new Syrian state. It has become a key actor in supporting and cooperating with the development of Syria’s new military institutions, making its relationship with Damascus extend beyond conventional relations between neighboring states into a complex relationship of strategic influence.
Israel, by contrast, approaches Syria from an entirely different perspective. It is operating militarily and security-wise in southern Syria, arguing that its measures are related to its security, while Israeli incursions and military operations inside Syrian territory have raised concerns regarding Syrian sovereignty and international law. Southern Syria, alongside the north, has therefore become one of the principal arenas in which the balance of power in the country is being reshaped.
Syria thus finds itself facing a highly dangerous equation: Turkey seeks to prevent the emergence of a Syrian reality that threatens its influence in the north, while Israel seeks to prevent the emergence of a Syrian reality that threatens its security in the south. Between them stands a Syrian state attempting to reclaim its decision-making authority amid a complex network of local, regional, and international powers.
Yet reshaping Syria cannot be achieved through military force alone. The conflict may therefore gradually move into the institutions of power themselves. If the new Syrian army becomes heavily dependent on Turkish support and training, the question of the independence of Syria’s military decision-making will become a strategic issue. If Israel concludes that the new army could eventually develop into a centralized Syrian force capable of restoring full control over the south, it may seek to limit its capabilities or impose restrictions on its deployment and armament. The future of the Syrian army thus becomes one of the most important arenas of indirect Turkish–Israeli competition.
At this point, another highly sensitive issue emerges: the fate of elements and factions with jihadist backgrounds that have become part of the new political authority and security forces. The issue is not simply a matter of integrating fighters into a military institution; it concerns redefining the Syrian army itself. Will it become the army of a national state, or an extension of the factions that emerged from the war? Can Damascus move from the logic of factions to the logic of institutions, subject all personnel to the law, investigate crimes and violations on the basis of individual responsibility, and remove from positions of authority and control over weapons those proven to have committed crimes or maintained unlawful armed affiliations?
This issue will become increasingly sensitive as Damascus moves toward building a unified national army. An army representing the state cannot be built on personal, factional, or ideological loyalty. It must instead rest upon military discipline, a clear chain of command, the rule of law, and exclusive loyalty to the state. Failure in this process could provide additional justification for foreign intervention and become a continuing source of doubt regarding the new authorities’ ability to monopolize the use of force and govern the country.
At this point, political and security assassinations could become among the most dangerous instruments of the coming phase. This does not mean assuming the existence of a specific plan or accusing any particular party. Rather, it points to the possibility that prominent figures within the new authorities, military and security leaders, and political figures seeking to establish an independent Syrian balance could become targets in struggles over institutions and influence. In fragile transitional periods, the assassination of a single figure can create a vacuum at the center of decision-making, alter the balance of power, or trigger a chain of accusations and reprisals.
The most dangerous scenario could be for assassinations to coincide with bombings in Syrian cities, reciprocal security operations, and the provocation of sectarian and regional conflicts, gradually transforming the country into an environment in which establishing a stable central authority becomes increasingly difficult. In such an environment, any bombing could become a pretext for expanding influence, any assassination could turn into an occasion for mutual accusations, and any local clash could become an entry point for regional intervention. The danger therefore lies not only in the violence itself, but in the use of violence to reshape Syria’s political map.
These risks are not merely theoretical assumptions detached from the security reality. In September 2026, an explosion targeted a gas pipeline between the al-Shoula and Deir ez-Zor areas, which the Syrian Oil Company described as an act of sabotage, resulting in the interruption of gas supplies to power-generation plants. Although the incident does not establish the identity of those responsible, nor does it demonstrate any connection to the Turkish–Israeli conflict, it reflects the vulnerability of infrastructure during a transitional period in which vital facilities can also become part of the security struggle.
Yet the most serious danger facing Syria would be for regional rivalry to become a means of reproducing political authority along security or sectarian lines. If Damascus wants to escape this cycle, it must transform itself from a transitional authority with limited representation into a Syrian state that genuinely accommodates all components of the Syrian people. Real stability cannot be built by excluding Kurds, Druze, Alawites, Christians, or any other component, nor by distributing positions merely for symbolic representation. It requires a new political contract in which participation in government, state institutions, and the armed forces becomes a political right grounded in equal citizenship, rather than a concession granted by those in power.
Here, Kurdish participation becomes a central issue rather than a secondary detail. The Kurds are not a group that can simply be invited into government to complete the appearance of pluralism. They are an integral part of the Syrian people, with national, political, cultural, and linguistic rights that should form part of any stable constitutional framework. During 2026, steps were taken toward reintegrating Kurdish areas and forces into state institutions, while disagreements continued over the scope of linguistic and cultural rights and education in Kurdish. The Syrian government recognized Kurdish as a national language in areas with a high Kurdish population, but kept the scope of Kurdish-language education limited, prompting Kurdish objections and demands for broader constitutional guarantees.
The same applies to the Druze, Alawites, and all other components of the Syrian people. A state attempting to rebuild itself without genuine political and constitutional guarantees for its various components will remain vulnerable to tension and conflict, while the doors to foreign intervention will remain open to anyone seeking to exploit internal divisions. The formation of a new Syrian government, therefore, should not merely constitute a redistribution of positions; it should represent a redefinition of political authority itself, so that the government reflects Syria’s genuine pluralism rather than the dominance of one component, political current, or armed force.
From this perspective, one of the most dangerous objectives of regional competition can be understood: preventing the emergence of a Syria that is genuinely independent in its political and military decision-making. The more Damascus remains dependent on an external power to protect its security, rebuild its army, secure its borders, or consolidate its authority, the more vulnerable Syrian decision-making remains to external influence. Syria’s departure from the “Turkish sphere” should therefore not mean moving into the sphere of another state. It should mean reclaiming Syrian national decision-making from all external powers—Turkey, Israel, Iran, Russia, the United States, and others.
This particular issue could become a source of future friction between Damascus and Ankara. Turkey may want a unified Syria, but it also wants Syria to maintain a close strategic relationship with it. If the Syrian authorities genuinely seek to build an independent state, they will eventually need to move from a relationship of dependence toward one of mutual equality. This is where the real disagreement could begin: Will Turkey remain a strategic partner of Syria, or will Turkish support gradually develop into influence capable of shaping Syrian decision-making?
At the same time, Israel is unlikely to view the emergence of a strong Syrian state with ease, particularly one possessing a centralized army capable of restoring sovereignty over the entirety of Syrian territory. The south will therefore remain a key testing ground. As for the term “David’s Corridor,” which appears in some analyses, it should be treated with caution. Analyses and commonly circulated labels are not sufficient to establish the existence of a final, officially declared Israeli government project under that name for dividing Syria. Nevertheless, Israeli military activities in the south, incursions, the construction of military positions, and its engagement with the Druze issue make southern Syria one of the most important arenas in the struggle over the future of the Syrian state.
Israel may therefore seek to establish a security and political belt in southern Syria, while Turkey seeks to prevent the emergence of competing regional spheres of influence inside Syria, particularly where these are accompanied by an American or Israeli presence or by local arrangements that bypass Damascus’s authority. Between these competing projects, the Syrian government itself could become an arena of pressure and competition: Who participates in the government? Who controls the army’s levers of power? Who determines foreign policy? Who decides the shape of the constitution? And who determines Syria’s relationship with its neighbors?
The coming struggle may therefore be less visible than a conventional war, but potentially more complex. We may not see Turkish and Israeli armies confronting each other in a single battlefield. Instead, there may be a series of pressures, strikes, security operations, assassinations, bombings, and political maneuvers, alongside a struggle over the formation of the government, the army, and the constitution. Each side will seek to influence Syria’s internal landscape according to its interests, security concerns, and regional position.
In this context, rebuilding the Syrian military institution will be one of the most important political battles ahead. The objective should not be the collective exclusion of fighters because of their backgrounds, nor political retaliation against a particular faction or current. It should be the construction of a national institution in which there is no place for transnational armed organizations or factional loyalties, while applying the law to anyone proven responsible for crimes or violations. The more successfully Damascus transforms weapons from factional instruments into a national institution, the narrower the space in which external powers can operate.
If Syria fails to build a unified national army, form a government with genuine national representation, and establish a constitutional contract guaranteeing the rights of all its components, external powers will always find openings for intervention. Israel would then not need to occupy Syria, nor would Turkey need to control it directly. It would be enough for Syria to remain politically and security-wise divided for external influence to become stronger than domestic institutions.
The real struggle, therefore, is not merely between Turkey and Israel over the “Syrian pie.” It is a struggle over whether Syria will become a state with an independent decision-making capacity or a sphere of influence divided directly or indirectly among regional powers. If the new Syrian political elite fails to understand this, the Turkish–Israeli rivalry will not remain external; it may penetrate the heart of state institutions, the army, government, security apparatus, economy, and perhaps Syrian society itself.
Syria emerging from war does not need a new patron; it needs a new state—a state that is neither subordinate to Turkey, nor held hostage by Israel, nor an extension of any other regional axis. A state in which Kurds, Druze, Alawites, Arabs, Christians, and all other components of the Syrian people are genuine partners in shaping its future, rather than cards used by external powers in their rivalries. A state in which the army belongs to the state, the government represents the people, the constitution constitutes a political contract among Syrians, and national decision-making belongs to Syrians alone.
Only then can the equation change: instead of Syria being an arena in which others compete to draw its map, it can become a state capable of drawing its own political and constitutional map.
But if Damascus remains dependent on external powers, if the army remains divided by competing loyalties, if the government remains narrowly representative, if the question of the country’s various components remains unresolved, and if the south, north, and east remain open to outside intervention, Syria’s map will remain under construction.
The question in the coming phase may therefore not be: Who will rule Syria?
The more dangerous question is: Who will decide Syria’s borders, who will decide who governs it, and who will decide what kind of state will remain?