The Knesset sent a clear message this week, voting 92-10 to finally bar UNRWA from operating within its territories.
For many Israelis, this vote represents a long-overdue consensus – a decision born of years of frustration and compounded by the horrors of this past year.This move wasn’t just about cutting off services; it was a statement that UNRWA’s brand of “toxic aid” has no place in Israeli-controlled areas. Israelis, who have endured relentless conflict and heightened insecurity, believe that the agency has evolved into something far removed from its original humanitarian mandate.
What the world often misses is that for Israel, UNRWA represents not just an ineffective aid organization but a security liability and a symbol of entrenchment. The October 7 attack was a devastating tipping point, with reports surfacing that some UNRWA employees were involved in those violent acts against Israel.
For Israelis, this allegation confirms a deeply rooted belief that the agency has, at best, failed to remain neutral and, at worst, is complicit in perpetuating the conflict.
The heart of the issue
Western countries have pressured UNRWA for years to reform its educational content to ensure textbooks don’t glorify martyrdom or incite violence against Israel.
Yet, despite these efforts, there is still a long list of grievances: curriculum content that fuels anti-Israel sentiment, lax vetting processes for a nearly all-Palestinian staff, and allegations that UNRWA facilities in Hamas-controlled Gaza are exploited for military activities.
It’s a setup that leaves many Israelis questioning whether UNRWA’s presence does more to provoke conflict than to resolve it.
The heart of the problem, in Israel’s eyes, lies in UNRWA’s very structure and mission. Unlike other refugee organizations, UNRWA grants refugee status to Palestinians generationally, allowing it to be passed from parent to child, resulting in a growing population without a permanent solution.
This unique policy, criticized by Israelis and many in the West, perpetuates a sense of refugeehood that often feels less about humanitarian aid and more about feeding political grievances.
For Israel, this approach is a clear example of “toxic aid” – help that doesn’t heal but harms, creating an ever-expanding pool of individuals with a deeply politicized identity that sees Israel as the enemy.
Israel’s decision to ban UNRWA reflects a belief that real peace requires breaking free from structures that breed hostility and dependency. By taking this step, Israel challenges the international community to reconsider its support for an organization many now see as fundamentally compromised.
This moment is not just about a new policy; it’s about redrawing boundaries between aid and ideology, about insisting that humanitarian work should bridge divides, not deepen them.
The question for Western donors is stark: will they push for the radical reforms that Israel believes are essential, or will they recognize that UNRWA, after all these decades, might have reached the end of its mission?