In despair, Israel’s Arabs are leaving. That should concern all of us

Protesters hold signs ‘Our children’s blood is like yours’, calling for stronger law enforcement in Israeli-Arab communities, at the Knesset in November 2024

Sheren Falah Saab writes in Haaretz on 26 December 2024:

In the television series “Avodah Aravit” (“Arab Labor”), the hero, Amjad (Norman Issa), does everything he can to integrate into Israeli society – from speaking fluent Hebrew to giving chocolates to his neighbors in his building in Jerusalem’s Rehavia neighborhood. He dreams that his neighbors, Meretz voters who “love Arabs,” will treat him as just Amjad, not an Arab.

His character reflects the generation in which Arab Israelis innocently believed that integration was truly possible.  But 17 years on, it reflects the profound deterioration of Arab-Jewish relations in the country.

The second-class status and alienation of Arab Israelis have grown worse over the years. With every statement of “death to the Arabs” and “may your village burn down,” with every terrorist attack that Arabs are called upon to condemn to prove that they don’t support the murder of innocents, something has cracked.

The dream of integration has grown more distant, especially after the collapse of Meretz, which spoke of “peace,” and the rise of this “fully right-wing” government.  The current war has destroyed whatever was left of that dream. The result has been that, in recent months, Arabs have quietly begun leaving.

Earlier this week, a friend of mine left for the United States with her husband and three children “for just two or three years,” although we both know they won’t be coming back.  “I feel like a stranger in my own land,” she said. “We have no future here. No matter what, we’ll always be suspected. Since the war [started], it’s not like something even needs to happen. It’s enough that I’m an Arab. They even called me in for a talk at work because I said children in Gaza are being killed.”

She is far from the only one. Hebrew media outlets have reported a little about this, but there are no exact figures. Anyone familiar with Arab culture and society understands that something is underway.

An Israeli flag sways in the wind over the Arab east Jerusalem neighborhood of Silwan on Friday.Credit: Ahmad Gharabli/AFP
“There is no place for us here,” said another friend of mine, who left for the Netherlands with her family. “We’re invisible. No one sees us, and they will never treat us as equals.”

In conversations with others, the same reasons keep coming up – the political situation, rising crime, lack of personal security, discrimination and degrading treatment. People fear speaking Arabic in public – a fear that has always been there but that has grown since October 7. There is also the economic crisis and the feeling of alienation, which has only grown stronger.

Above all, there is one all-encompassing reason: deep disappointment with Israel’s stifling and discriminatory policies toward its Arab citizens.  It is difficult for me to describe how deep the frustration is. Jewish Israelis cannot appreciate how significant it is for someone in the Arab community to choose to leave.

Over the years, despite all the obstacles, discrimination and racism, a connection to the land and family came first. But now, the obstacles have begun to trump those values. The pain of uprooting yourself has become a real possibility because the pain of remaining is greater. Even people I have known for years, who made every effort to integrate – some of them even doing national service – have finally cracked. I cannot stop thinking about them. Sometimes, I am also afraid of cracking, as they did.

The tragedy is reflected not only in their leaving but also in the despair and revulsion felt by those who remain, particularly the young generation.  Education Ministry data show that 2023 saw a sharp decline in Arab sixth graders’ Hebrew studies, both in terms of average grades and their use of the language.

Meanwhile, 41 percent of teachers reported that their students had negative attitudes toward Hebrew studies. And these are children! The figures are a clear expression of Arab alienation that no workshop or seminar can solve.

When I was in the sixth grade, my parents insisted I learn Hebrew. They believed that to succeed in Israel, you needed to master the language and be intimately familiar with its culture. They understood that Hebrew was the ticket of admission to Israeli society and would be the language we would use to obtain equal rights.

I went to summer camp with Jews and Arabs and talked with Israelis my age. As a child of “the Oslo generation,” when “peace” was a legitimate word, Hebrew was, for me, a bridge.

I write these things with pain. I also dreamed that my daughters would speak Hebrew and would know about the poets Leah Goldberg and Hayim Nahman Bialik and the author Meir Shalev. From the get-go, a child from the Arab community is at a disadvantage – so what future do my daughters have here without Hebrew?

I tried to endear them to the language and encourage them to use it, but it didn’t happen. This shouldn’t surprise anyone.

Our children have nowhere to use Hebrew and no one to speak to in it because the mixed Jewish-Arab space is shrinking. At the same time, their first language, Arabic, has been made something that should be spoken softly so that, God forbid, they don’t make people on the street or on the bus anxious. Day by day, the separation is clearer. Day by day, I lose hope.

My friend who has left for the U.S. says, “We’re like orphans. The country is turning its back on us and we have no proper leadership.” How right she is. In recent weeks, I have been walking around feeling orphaned and having a hard time envisioning a better future.

One of the defining characteristics of a democratic state is its ability to protect its minorities – their freedom and their rights. This is the essence of the Basic Law on Human Dignity and Liberty.

Generations of Israeli governments have failed to ensure this. Arabs have learned to live with it – to look aside and move on yet again after every racist statement, every false arrest, every fascist law and every home demolition.

But how much racism can anyone tolerate? How much disrespect, restrictions on freedom, discrimination and alienation can a person endure because of their Arab identity before they finally crack?

More and more people around me are leaving. We can pretend that it’s not happening; after all, Israel excels at ignoring the hardships in the Arab community. But this phenomenon should bother anyone who has ever believed in Jewish-Arab partnership, and certainly anyone who opposes the current government.

When even the “left” has moved rightward since October 7, it seems it has also given up on the partnership. In the next election, they will be back asking for Arab support – but by then, it will be too late.

How much disrespect, restrictions on freedom, discrimination and alienation can a person endure because of their Arab identity before they finally crack?

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