What Israel Owes the Druze

(July 21, 2025 / JNS) When one looks out over the Druze military cemetery in Shefa-‘Amr, Israel, one sees row after row of graves—each a silent testament to extraordinary courage. Buried there are brave soldiers who did not hesitate for a moment to make the ultimate sacrifice for the State of Israel.

The Druze community, a small but fiercely loyal religious minority in Israel, has stood shoulder to shoulder with Jewish Israelis in defending the nation since its founding. Though they represent just over 1% of Israel’s population, Druze men have proudly served in the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) in disproportionately high numbers. Many have risen to positions of command. Far too many have fallen in battle.

What makes this loyalty so remarkable is that the Druze are not Jewish. They are an ethnoreligious group with their own unique faith, a secretive offshoot of Islam, and their own language and culture. They have no historical claim to Zionism, nor any requirement to serve in the Israeli military. Yet, by choice and conviction, they have thrown their lot in with the Jewish state.

This alliance is not merely symbolic. It is written in blood.

One cannot forget the heroism of soldiers like Col. Kamal Kheir a-Din, who served with distinction in elite combat units and whose funeral drew thousands of mourners from all sectors of Israeli society. Or border police officer Amir Khoury, a Christian Arab who died while stopping a terror attack in Bnei Brak in 2022. Though not Druze, his sacrifice mirrors the shared sense of duty found among Israel’s loyal minorities.

Today, as Israel faces threats on multiple fronts—from Hezbollah in the north, Hamas in the south, and Iranian proxies embedded across the region—the contribution of the Druze community has become even more critical. During the ongoing war, Druze soldiers have continued to serve on the front lines, and the community has once again borne tragic losses.

The feeling of blood brotherhood of the Israeli Druze to their brethren in Sweida is almost palatable. What began as an ethnic dispute from Bedouin tribes into the Druze dominated center resulted in over 1,100 fatalities. Women were taken hostage and raped. Babies were slaughtered and dropped into vats of boiling water. Men were humiliated,  their mustaches-a sign of honor among Druze men-were brutally shaven off. Many were abused and murdered. Over 1,000 Israeli Druze crossed the border into Syria to assist their Druze brothers.

This was their October 7^th. Their loyalty is not born of compulsion, but of a deep, mutual sense of destiny woven over decades of shared struggle. In villages nestled among the hills of the Galilee and the slopes of Mount Carmel, Druze families raise children with the expectation of service—not only to their own people, but to the country as a whole. Tales of bravery and solidarity are passed down from generation to generation, forming the backbone of a unique Israeli identity that transcends faith or ancestry.

Yet the relationship between the Druze and the state of Israel is not without its tensions. The pride felt in military uniforms is sometimes shadowed by frustration, as promises of equality remain somewhat unfulfilled and recognition lags behind sacrifice. The Druze know the price of loyalty, and they have paid it willingly, but their commitment demands a reciprocal respect—a covenant that goes beyond ceremony and commemoration.

In 2018, the passage of the controversial Nation-State Law, which defines Israel as the national homeland of the Jewish people, sparked deep hurt  and feelings of marginalization among Druze Israelis. They felt, understandably, that a nation they had fought and died for was telling them they would never be truly equal.

To be clear: Israel is, and must remain, the national home of the Jewish people. But it can and must also be a state that honors and uplifts those who defend it—regardless of religion or ethnicity. That is not only a moral imperative; it is a matter of national unity and survival.

The late President Reuven Rivlin once described Israel as a “shared home” for four tribes: secular Jews, religious Jews, ultra-Orthodox Jews, and Arabs. The Druze, he said, were the glue—binding together the complex mosaic of Israeli society with their service, loyalty, and quiet dignity.

Israel owes the Druze more than gratitude. It owes them policies that reflect their contribution: equal funding for Druze municipalities, expanded access to quality education, full recognition of their villages and land rights, and a greater role in national decision-making.

To walk through the rows of graves in Shefa-‘Amr is to walk among heroes. Their sacrifice demands not only remembrance but justice. Israel has many allies, but few as devoted, brave, and steadfast as the Druze. We must honor that loyalty—not just in words, but in deeds.

Sarah N. Stern is Founder and President of EMET, a pro-Israel think tank and policy institute which covers the entire Middle East.