Rising tensions with Iran once again threaten Israel with the possibility of a large-scale attack — ballistic missiles, armed drones, rockets from the north and east. If such an escalation materializes, the threat will not distinguish between Jewish and Arab citizens. Missiles do not check municipal boundaries before striking.

But Israel’s civil defense infrastructure does. A State Comptroller report published in January 2026 reveals a stark disparity. According to Home Front Command data, only 37 out of 11,775 public shelters in Israel — roughly 0.3% — are located in Arab municipalities, and eight of those are unfit for use. In most Arab localities, there are virtually no public shelters at all. This is not an isolated failure. It is systemic.

The report further notes that approximately 3.2 million residents — about one third of Israel’s population — lack standard protection. The situation is particularly severe in Bedouin communities in the Negev, where no proper public shelters or accessible protective infrastructure exist. More than 466,000 students attend schools without adequate protection, and nearly half of Arab citizens live in homes without a fortified room.

In Rahat, a Bedouin city of nearly 79,000 residents, there are eight public shelters. In nearby Jewish Ofakim, with a smaller population, there are approximately 150. This is the outcome of long-standing planning and budgetary disparities.

Unfortunately, the gap in protection is not an exception. It reflects decades of underinvestment and institutional neglect in Arab communities — from planning restrictions and the absence of approved master plans to limited industrial zones, inadequate transportation infrastructure, underfunded public services, and the ongoing failure to address crime and illegal weapons proliferation. The result is not merely socio-economic disparities; it reflects a de facto civic hierarchy.

When even the core sovereign responsibility — protecting civilians from missile attacks — is implemented unequally, the conclusion becomes difficult to avoid: in practice, Arab lives are valued less.

In times of regional escalation, this is not only a moral issue but a strategic one. A home front that is unevenly protected is inherently weaker. A state that leaves hundreds of thousands of its citizens more exposed undermines its own resilience and erodes the basic covenant between citizen and state.

What is required is clear: comprehensive mapping of protection gaps, accelerated and designated funding, temporary protective solutions where permanent infrastructure is lacking, strengthened emergency services, and clearly assigned institutional responsibility with binding timelines.

It may already be too late to close these gaps before the next escalation. Civil defense infrastructure cannot be built overnight, and disparities accumulated over decades cannot be reversed in weeks. If a large-scale confrontation erupts, Israel may once again confront the consequences of long-standing neglect.

Precisely for that reason, this issue cannot be allowed to fade once the current crisis passes — whether it ends in war or in a diplomatic arrangement. After every round of violence, committees are formed and changes are promised. But as the danger subsides, priorities shift and the underlying gaps remain. The next crisis is not a question of if, but when. The only question is whether Arab communities will once again face it less protected — or whether the state will finally take responsibility for the lives of all of its citizens.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)