Beyond Imagination...

No one, twenty years ago, could have imagined that organized crime within the Green Line would reach such a degree of brazen dominance: complete lawlessness, real authority on the ground, and an unarmed population left prey without protection or accountability. We are not talking about a “normal crime,” but about a comprehensive system operating with the knowledge of the state, under its eyes, and with its silent — sometimes open — patronage. A crime that has been prepared for through plunder, deprivation, apartheid, and the entrapment of natural development.

Many experts confirm that this type of crime is “unique” in its nature: even collapsed societies that have been infiltrated by organized crime have not known anything like this. Here, crime is not an anomaly to the system, but rather a part of its engineering. How could it not be, it is a racist colonial system, one of whose ideological bases is the replacement of the indigenous population, not coexisting with them.

Every day we hear stories of blackmail, threats, methods of killing, and the systematic humiliation of people; stories that defy belief. The shocking paradox is that the people of Arab villages and towns know everything: the names of the gangs, their leaders, their structures, and their tools, while the apartheid police feign ignorance.

They have flooded our towns with police stations, not to protect us, but to monitor us, to politically dismantle us, and to suppress any collective spirit that attempts to turn into power, and into a developed society seeking freedom and a dignified life. Crime is left to expand, and those who confront it are pursued.

The evolution of blackmail methods, the audacity of gangs, and their self-confidence would not have reached this level without the cover provided by the system of extermination. We are facing a slow, calculated social extermination that pushes people into despair, then to emigrate, then to fade away. It is the other face of the Zionist cleansing project: the voice of the apartheid system says: if we couldn’t expel you by force in 1948, we will do so now through internal hollowing, fear, chaos, and the collapse of meaning.

This is no longer a rhetorical description. The Palestinians of 1948 are today living a real battle for existence. There is no safety, no reassurance, nor a ceiling of protection. The state that is supposed to protect its citizens has practically withdrawn from its duty, turning its absence into a policy.

The national references have regressed, been exhausted, and forced into coercive equations. The social and community institutions have lost much of their capacity. Even the reform committees, which were born from the pain of the people, have been banned and their activists arrested. The message from the authority is clear: do not build self-defense.

Despite all this, the bet remains on what is left of collective will. The follow-up committee is today facing a historic test, not a formal one. With the election of a new president who comes from a political school that sees reconstruction as a central project, the responsibility becomes doubled, and hopes grow larger. We do not need statements, but rather a movement for collective salvation. The priority is construction, and providing everything necessary to adopt this path.

Over the past years, the movement and effort have not stopped: committees, initiatives, associations, conferences. They were not in vain. Yet, they collided with the wall of the apartheid institution on one side, and with internal exhaustion on the other. Nevertheless, these efforts have created awareness, and charged generations for the next stage:
We are not a community, nor are we newcomers. We are part of a people who survived cleansing, and today we are meant to be punished for staying.

What comes after the failure of collective, party, and representative attempts?

The bitter question: if the collective action falters... do we surrender? Do we raise the white flag? Or do we start from the last point they could not confiscate: home?

Yes, the family has a role. It is not a substitute for the public project, but a parallel front. Education here is not preaching, but an act of resistance. Raising your children on dignity, awareness, and belonging — not on individualism and isolation — this is a top-tier political act. Education does not require a miracle; it requires will, desire, faith, and a decision. Sitting down with our children, breaking the silence, and redefining what is lawful and unlawful by moral and national standards, rather than consumerist and individualistic ones, has become a moral duty and a life necessity, even an existential one.

What we are suffering from is not a separate "moral deviation" from context, but a direct consequence of an environment that has been deliberately poisoned. We suffer from destructive and dangerous manifestations that are harming our bodies, values, and behaviors, and among these deviations:

Pathological consumption: appearances of false wealth, luxury cars, outrageously expensive phones, ostentatious weddings... often through black loans, disguised usury, and debts that suffocate homes and drive youth into the arms of gangs.

Traffic accidents: free death due to a culture of recklessness, because life holds no value in an awareness that has been long distorted.

Work without protection: death and permanent disabilities... because the worker is merely a number in a system that does not see us as human beings.

Neglected health: bodies left to misery, because daily dignity has been crushed.

Trivial disputes turn into small wars: a parking spot, boundaries between neighbors or siblings... turning into extended feuds, sometimes even bloodshed, because nerves are frayed, and the horizon is blocked.

A soulless school: grades without meaning. Certificates without values. A generation raised on individual competition rather than belonging.

Withdrawal from public affairs: everyone retreats into themselves, their families, and their interests. This is not neutrality — this is disintegration.

Despite everything, there is still a pulse in this society: resilient families, free intellectuals, tireless activists. There are those working quietly in national work, those serving the people without cameras, and those building a culture of moral and spiritual resistance.

But the bitter truth is that even these are no longer safe. Targeting today is comprehensive, not distinguishing between the "involved" and the "disciplined." Everyone is in the line of fire.

Our duty is not to mourn the destruction, but to declare a state of awareness, a state of rejection, a state of rebuilding from the ground up... from the homes... from the consciences... from the will. No individual can escape responsibility: the responsibility to act, at the very least, within their immediate circle, which is possible and very possible.

And because what we are exposed to has become structural, the task is vast, the challenges are enormous, and it requires a long breath, and great patience, until its cumulative effect is achieved.