Land rights have been a contentious issue in Israel since its founding, affecting all communities within its borders.
Bedouins, particularly those in unrecognized villages, face unique challenges. The Israeli government views the land they live on as state property, disregarding their traditional system of land ownership.
The Zaidat family from the unrecognized village of Ramat Tziporim has lived in the Negev for generations, preserving the traditions and culture of their Bedouin ancestors. Auda al-Zaidat, the family patriarch, carries the weight of their history, living on land that has been part of their identity long before the establishment of the State of Israel.
“The Bedouin have their own system of land ownership or affiliation of a family to a land,” said Ezry Keydar, the CEO of Keshet NGO, an organization dedicated to preserving Bedouin culture. “When the State of Israel is planning neighborhoods for Bedouin in settlements, they don’t take this affiliation or land-owning system into consideration.”
Keydar has been the CEO of Keshet for eight years. His interest and passion for preserving the Bedouin community began after he befriended a Bedouin almost 40 years ago in a hiking club through the Society for the Protection of Nature in Israel (SPNI).
The government’s disregard for Bedouin culture has led to significant tension and conflict within Bedouin communities, Keydar said.
“The state takes land that, from the Bedouin perspective, already belongs to one family and prepares plots with infrastructure,” he said. “The state then forces another Bedouin family to move into these plots. The family that owns the land resists, saying, ‘No, you cannot move into our land.’ If they are forced to move, it often leads to conflicts between families.”
Violence sparked in Bedouin settlements
This approach to urban planning has sparked violence in recognized Bedouin settlements. The Bedouin connection to the land is deeply rooted in their cultural identity, and the state’s interventions have often disrupted these connections, leading to social and familial strife.
The people of Ramat Tziporim, a Bedouin village near Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, have been seeking legal recognition for years. Once approved for legalization in 2015, the village lost its legal status after the government decided to establish a permanent settlement in nearby Abde instead. Approximately 41 families from the Ziyadin and Azzama tribes, totaling about 200 people, live in Ramat Tziporim.
Once the Abde settlement is completed, the families of Ramat Tziporim are expected to move.
The Bedouin experience in Israel is further complicated by the broader societal attitudes toward them. Since the Israel-Hamas war began, Bedouins have been caught in the crossfire of public opinion. On the one hand, they have been celebrated as heroes, with many Bedouins exhibiting bravery during the October 7 massacre. On the other hand, they face increasing discrimination due to their Arab ethnicity.
A Bedouin girl from Ramat Tziporim said she had boarded a bus a few months after October 7, and several children pointed at her and called her “Hamas.”
“No one on the bus, [including] the adults, said anything [to them],” she said.
Shortly after October 7, Bedouin could hardly go to grocery stores without feeling afraid due to the anti-Arab sentiment, said Keydar, who was born to an Egyptian Arab father and an Iraqi Jewish mother. He envisions a more inclusive solution for the future of Israel’s minorities, including a one-state solution with an Arab delegation that handles their rights.
Despite countless setbacks for his organization, Keydar said he was persevering.
“To lose hope is easy; you can lose hope at any moment,” Keydar said. “But what’s the point? I don’t want to. I don’t think I have the privilege to lose hope.”
As the government continues its policies, Bedouins such as the Zaidat family remain resolute in their determination to preserve their way of life, even as the state’s plans threaten to uproot the very fabric of their existence.