The Sarayli In Moscow

When the Sultan Sends a Plus-One.

In a geopolitical twist few anticipated, Abu Mohammad al-Julani—the controversial leader of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) and former affiliate of al-Qaeda—has emerged as a central figure in Syria’s post-Assad realignment. His recent visit to Moscow, marked by laughter and camaraderie with President Vladimir Putin, stands in stark contrast to his stiff and muted interactions with U.S. officials. This shift in demeanor is no accident—it’s choreography, and the director is none other than Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan.

Julani’s Moscow visit came on the heels of Donald Trump’s unapologetic speech to the Israeli Knesset, reaffirming Israeli sovereignty over the Golan Heights. The speech, met with thunderous applause from Israeli lawmakers, sent ripples across the region. For Julani, the optics of aligning with Russia—Israel’s strategic frenemy—offered a chance to recalibrate his image and signal a new axis of influence.

The symbolism of Julani’s warm reception in the Kremlin cannot be overstated. Putin’s decision to host him in the presidential palace, complete with jokes and smiles, was a calculated move. It was a revival—not just of Julani’s political relevance, but of Russia’s role as a power broker in the Levant. The absence of such warmth in Julani’s U.S. encounters underscores that for Islamism, dictatorship is far more beneficial than democracy.

His friendliness with Putin—smiling, laughing, and trading jokes—was not spontaneous. It was scripted. Just like his master Erdoğan, who also wore a poker face with Trump, Julani’s Kremlin performance was a mirror act. Both men understand the power of optics, and both use them to manipulate geopolitical narratives while advancing their Islamist agendas under the guise of diplomacy.

The visit by Israeli diplomats and journalists—including Times of Israel editor David Horovitz—marked a historic moment. But were the Syrians sincere in their invitation? Was it a genuine gesture toward the Israeli people, or merely a pragmatic move by an Islamist regime seeking leverage? I believe it was the latter. The majority of Syrians remain staunchly anti-Israel and opposed to normalization—even among the secular factions, the pan-Arabist indoctrination of Assad runs deep. So when Islamist figures like Julani extend olive branches, one must ask: what about the ideological heirs of Osama bin Laden? It’s simply not logical to expect genuine peace from those steeped in jihadist legacy.

Meanwhile, the Druze community in southern Syria was reaching a boiling point. In Sweida, long marginalized and caught between warring factions, the Druze are now demanding independence. Their frustration has been compounded by what many describe as a coordinated massacre allegedly executed by HTS in collaboration with remnants of ISIS. The resignation of the Syrian Consulate General in the UAE, in protest of the Sweida atrocities, adds a diplomatic rupture to an already volatile situation.

This moment is more than a reshuffling of alliances. It’s a reckoning. The Druze, historically cautious and politically sidelined, are asserting their agency. Julani, once a shadowy militant, is now a sarayli—a palace-groomed envoy performing on behalf of his Sultan. And Erdoğan, ever the tactician, is pulling strings from Ankara, scripting a regional drama that blends insurgency with diplomacy.

The mosques are our barracks, the domes our helmets, the minarets our bayonets, and the faithful our soldiers.

And here’s the kicker: does the Israeli government truly believe that a jihadist proxy like Julani is more likely to normalize relations than the secular Ba’athist regime of Bashar al-Assad? Of course not. They know Erdoğan is playing the long game. A disciple of Badiuzzaman Said Nursi and an ideological heir to the Muslim Brotherhood, Erdoğan’s worldview is steeped in the writings of Sayyid Qutb, who infamously characterized Jews as the “ultimate evil.” This isn’t fringe rhetoric—it’s foundational doctrine for a movement that sees Islam not just as a faith, but as a political project.

Erdoğan’s own words echo this vision. In a 1997 speech that landed him in prison, he declared:
“The mosques are our barracks, the domes our helmets, the minarets our bayonets, and the faithful our soldiers.”
This wasn’t poetry—it was a manifesto. A call to arms cloaked in religious symbolism, signaling a long-term strategy of ideological mobilization.

So is Turkey a viable partner in any post-war Gaza arrangement? An Islamist, authoritarian regime will only inject its jihadist worldview into the enclave. In my view, neither Turkey nor Qatar should be involved in shaping Gaza’s future. Their influence would bring destructive doctrines to a place that desperately needs reconstruction, reconciliation, and secular stability—not the revivalist visions of Badiuzzaman or the militant dogmas of Sayyid Qutb.

Believe it or not, under Erdoğan’s leadership, Turkey still behaves as if it’s stuck in the 1800s—clinging to imperial dreams and religious absolutism. But there’s one crucial difference: today, the Jews have a state. And that state is stronger than Turkey. That reality is the unspoken tension behind every handshake, every summit, and every smirk exchanged in Moscow.