Israel’s state comptroller released recommendations for improving policing in Arab communities. But none of them seem to address the real problem: police indifference.
By Nisreen Salameh Shahbari
Palestinians citizens of Israel participate in a vigil in the town of Ramle marking the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women, on November 25, 2015. (Yotam Ronen)
On a cold February morning this year, my four-year-old son’s daycare was broken into. Sights of happy children singing and drawing were replaced with photos of horrific destruction and looting. This was the third break-in at Daburiyya, an Arab village east of Nazareth, that month. Previous incidents included an armed robbery in broad daylight, during which a person was shot and severely injured.
In a radio segment discussing the incident, police claimed they are handling all criminal activity in the village without delay, and that in cases where the investigation is paused or unsolved, it is because residents are refusing to cooperate. This is a known accusation that is too often regurgitated, a “golden ticket” used by police to explain their incompetence in enforcing the law in Arab communities. When pieced together, the daily acts of violence, from murder to vandalism, reflect a sad reality for 20 percent of the country’s population.
Two years ago, in an attempt to improve the sense of personal safety among Arab citizens, the government established a community policing center in my village. As many Arabs, I, too, hoped that building police stations near crime hotspots will lead to results. But when the police were slow to respond to the above-mentioned crimes, our hope dissipated.
Last week, at the height of the Arab community’s struggle against the Jewish Nation-State Law, the state comptroller released an evaluation of how police manage illegal firearms and shootings in Arab communities. For us, Arabs, the acute flaws in police conduct which were pointed out in the report were far from new. The report’s main contribution was the detailed data outlining Arab citizens’ deep lack of trust in law enforcement, and the sense of abandonment they have grown accustomed to.
The Achronim Just Make Stuff Up
I don’t know how else to put it.
Here is an English summary of the highlights in a pseudo-halachic discussion of eating food left under the bed:
One may not store food and drink under a bed, even enclosed in metal, and these receive an “evil spirit”, and so should not be eaten. As the Shulchan Aruch (Y.D. 117:5) says:
ולא יתן תבשיל ולא משקים תחת המטה, מפני שרוח רעה שורה עליהם… וכל אלו הדברים הם משום סכנה, ושומר נפשו ירחק מהם ואסור לסמוך אנס או לסכן נפשו בכל כיוצא בזה. (ועיין בחושן משפט סימן תכ”ז).
- It is customary to be lenient if the food was under a mattress or pillow or plane seat or a recliner (even though it is sometimes used for sleeping) or in a sleeping man’s pocket.
- If it was under a child’s bed or stroller or double-decker bed, there is doubt. Some say the food is permitted if no one slept under the bed, or if it was slept on during the day, but it’s better to be stringent since the Gemara doesn’t go into these details.
- If medicine was left under the bed, there is room to be lenient.
- Some say one person cannot forbid another’s food (אין אדם אוסר דבר שאינו שלו – responsa Rav Pe’alim).
- For more of this (Cooked or uncooked? Esrog for Succos? Chanukah oil? Hefsed Merubeh? etc.), see here.
The ugly truth is, there is no good proof for any of this. Since we don’t observe any danger in our time, we have no tools to analyze any of this. One needs to take some general approach, and either forbid everything or permit everything (see Pischei Teshuvah on the Shulchan Aruch).
There are hundreds of such pointless discussions in the Achronim and countless ink poured.
If you don’t know something, just admit it!