The recent surge of crime and violence in Israel’s Negev should finally put to rest the comforting illusion that what is happening in the south is a temporary security disturbance.
It's not.
The Negev has become a strategic test of Israel’s ability to govern its territory, uphold the rule of law, and integrate minority communities without surrendering sovereignty or moral clarity.
This is not a question of policing tactics; it is a question of governance.
For years, Israel has treated the Negev as a problem to be managed rather than a core arena of state responsibility.
Police operations intensify after shootings, protection rackets, or attacks on neighboring towns, only to fade once the headlines move on. Planning laws are enforced sporadically, and court proceedings drag on for years.
Into this vacuum step criminal clans, weapons traffickers, and parallel power structures that flourish precisely where the state is inconsistent or absent.
Israel slowly loses its governing authority in the Negev
The result is predictable. Law-abiding citizens, Bedouin and Jewish alike, are left exposed. Criminal networks gain legitimacy. Violence becomes normalized, and the state slowly forfeits its monopoly on authority.
The Negev is not a frontier beyond Israel’s civic framework. It is central to Israel’s territorial continuity, economic development, and internal security. It is home to critical infrastructure, military installations, transportation routes, and growing populations.
It is the Jewish State’s strategic depth.
While in 2025, there has been enhanced enforcement against illegal construction, there needs to be a long-term strategy for Israel’s south.
A state that cannot enforce the law in the Negev cannot credibly claim full sovereignty anywhere else, and yet enforcement alone will not solve the problem.
Governance means continuity, predictability, and institutions that function every day, not just during crises. It requires a long-term strategy that integrates education, welfare, housing, employment, and law enforcement into a single coherent policy. Without this, every police operation becomes a temporary patch on a structural failure.
One of the most damaging and least honestly addressed issues undermining governance in parts of Bedouin society is the persistence of polygamy.
Polygamy is illegal under Israeli law, yet it remains widespread, particularly in unrecognized and semi-regulated settlements. This is not a marginal cultural detail. It is a social engine driving poverty, crime, illiteracy and educational failures, and generational dependency.
The consequences are devastating and measurable. Polygamous households often trap women in economic dependence and social isolation, stripping them of legal protection and civic agency. Children raised in such environments face overcrowding, neglect, and poor education.
Young men, lacking education, opportunity, and structure, are far more likely to be drawn into criminal activity and violence.
No democratic state committed to equality before the law can continue tolerating this reality under the guise of cultural sensitivity.
This is not about erasing Bedouin identity.
Cultures evolve, or they fracture under practices that no longer serve human dignity.
Preserving heritage does not require preserving harm. A tradition that systematically disables women from participating in economic and civic life is not being protected; it is being weaponized against the future of the community itself.
At the same time, reform cannot be imposed solely through force. Ending polygamy and reducing clan-based criminal dominance requires incentives, enforcement, and opportunity to move together.
Education for girls, economic pathways for women, access to healthcare, and integration into regulated housing are not “soft” policies. They are the foundations of stability and lawfulness.
Equally important is the protection of law-abiding Bedouin citizens, who are often the first victims of crime, intimidation, and extortion. When the state appears only as a sporadic enforcer rather than a guarantor of rights and opportunity, it abandons these citizens to criminal rule. That abandonment fuels resentment, radicalization, and further disengagement from state institutions.
This is where civil society and local leadership must be empowered, not sidelined.
Educators, social workers, women’s organizations, and municipal authorities are essential partners in restoring governance. However, they cannot succeed if the state sends mixed signals about legality, enforcement, and accountability.
Sovereignty is not proven through declarations or occasional crackdowns. It is demonstrated through consistency.
The law must apply every single day, to everyone, without exception.
Planning regulations, criminal law, welfare oversight, and educational standards cannot be selectively enforced without corroding trust in the state itself.
The State of Israel now faces a clear choice: continue managing symptoms, reacting to each wave of violence as if it were an isolated event, or confront the root causes that have been allowed to metastasize for decades.
The situation is worsening every year, and time is running out before Israel reaches a tipping point where the situation could become too dire to remedy.
The Negev is central to Israel's future. A state that cannot integrate its citizens while enforcing the law will ultimately lose both security and cohesion.
If Israel wants stability tomorrow, it must choose governance today.
Rawan Osman is a Syrian-born, Lebanon-educated activist, political commentator, and public speaker who advocates for Arab-Israeli normalization. A self-described Arab Zionist, she works with regional peace initiatives and founded an online platform after October 7 to challenge anti-Israel misinformation in the Arab world.
Alon Tal is a seasoned international entrepreneur and a philanthropist who is founder and CEO of the Merit Spread Foundation, an organization dedicated to innovative charitable giving.