Since October 7, more and more Jewish militias have been founded in Israel. For some this generates a feeling of security, for many others it generates fear.

Chaim Messika (center), here with members of the emergency command in Jerusalem Photo: Andrea Krogmann/kna

GILO/BETHLEHEM taz | Moshe adjusts his machine gun and points his finger in a circle towards the surrounding hills. “We are surrounded by enemies,” says the lawyer and leader of the civil emergency command in Gilo, near Jerusalem. His cap says “Police” and he wears an olive green bulletproof vest. Following his orders, a dozen heavily armed youths burst into the entrance hall of the settlement's synagogue. The volunteers joined after the Hamas attack in October and are training in case of a terrorist attack.

Following the Hamas massacres in the south of the country, with more than 1,100 Israelis killed and around 250 hostages kidnapped in the Gaza Strip, the feared clashes between Arab Israelis and Jews did not materialize. However, for many in Israel the sense of security has disappeared. Late last year, one in two Israeli Jews said in a survey by the Institute for National Security Studies that he was afraid of attacks from his fellow Arab citizens.

Since then, Israeli Jews have founded more than 900 citizen militias, “Kitat Konenut” in Hebrew, across the country. Like here in Gilo, which is both a district of Jerusalem and an illegal settlement under international law in the Israeli-occupied West Bank. But since then there have also been heavily armed emergency commandos in cosmopolitan Tel Aviv, Ashkelon and hundreds of other places in the country.

Moshe, a muscular man with a full beard and side locks, wants to keep his last name to himself. He was once a social worker and today he is a lawyer who represents minors who can no longer live with their families, when he is not wearing riot gear. Until 2003 he served in a special army unit, mainly in the Gaza Strip.

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armed guards

On October 7, it was teams of kibbutz guards in several cities who were able to hold off the Hamas attackers until soldiers arrived. As his men search room by room of the synagogue, Moshe says: “It is no longer enough that we have an army. All citizens must now be an army where they live.” This means Jewish citizens. About 20 percent of Israeli Arabs are excluded from receiving weapons in the fast-track procedure because, unlike their fellow Jews, they generally have not served in the military.

The approximately 15 men of the protection corps, half religious Jews and half secular, have gathered in the entrance hall of the building. In addition to the assault rifle, many also carry a pistol or knife on their belt. Step by step, they descend in groups through the narrow corridors of the bunker located under the synagogue. Their muffled calls reach the floor above: “Room on the left, clean,” “Two on the right.”

Armed vigilante groups originally emerged from the days before Israel's founding, when many Jewish communities formed armed groups to defend themselves from their Arab neighbors. After 1948 they lost their importance. The units are intended to be used as backup for police in the event of an attack. The thousands of volunteers are coordinated, trained and equipped in coordination with local police departments. Before the Gaza war, there were fewer than a hundred, most in particularly vulnerable villages and cities, such as on the border with the Gaza Strip and in the West Bank.

On October 19, Minister of National Security Itamar Ben-Gvir, himself a settler and far-right, significantly expanded the list of places at risk. In addition, the agitator, who as a young man shouted slogans such as “Death to the Arabs,” had himself photographed in the media while handing out dozens of machine guns. The main requirement for membership is to have completed military service in the army. This applies to almost all Israeli Jews due to mandatory military service.

Concern for vulnerable groups

This worries lawyer Anne Suciu from the Israeli civil rights movement ACRI. “From one moment to the next, potentially hundreds of thousands of people gained access to heavy weapons.” Together with the massive increase in the number of privately owned pistols, this poses a danger to especially vulnerable groups: women, mentally unstable people and minorities.

The fact that armed auxiliary police can also conduct patrols is a danger, especially for the 20 percent of Israeli Arabs. “Society increasingly sees Palestinians as a threat.” The inhibition threshold for firing is decreasing. At the same time, Arab cities generally do not have the opportunity to create security teams. “You can find Jewish villages in the same region that established a Kitat Konenut and right next door places that do not,” says lawyer Suciu.

If Moshe in Gilo has his way, he should continue like this: “The first thing I did on October 7 was close the door when I heard that the Arabs had invaded the Jewish villages,” he says. Since then, more than 300,000 Israelis have applied for gun licenses; Before the war there were 150,000 private gun owners. Around 80,000 applications have already been approved in an accelerated process. The minister responsible, Ben-Gvir, had relaxed the rules to such an extent that Israeli journalists could now obtain a weapons license with a phone call. Here too the requirements largely exclude non-Jewish applicants.

From the courtyard of the Gilo synagogue, the view falls on the neighboring towns among the olive green hills surrounding Jerusalem: to the north of Gilo are the Arab districts of Sharafat and Beit Safafa, to the south begin the Palestinian towns of Bait Jala, a few hundred meters away, behind the meter-high Israeli barrier, and Bethlehem in the West Bank.

On the other side of the concrete wall

“If you look down from here, you see churches and mosques, but that's not the whole picture,” Mosche says. Instead, they would hang pictures of “terrorists” in Bethlehem and paint swastikas on the walls. He saw it himself on Google Street View. He had never been there. Many people in Europe and the United States would not understand it. “There are 10,000 kilometers between Tehran and Washington, but from here to our enemies it is one kilometer.”

On the other side of the eight-meter-high concrete wall in Bethlehem, Suhail Khalilieh serves black coffee. From the 54-year-old's office, the view falls on the settlement of Har Choma, whose buildings stand like a fortress on the hill next to Gilo. “Many Palestinians in the occupied territories are afraid,” says the political analyst, who for 20 years has been following the development of Israeli settlements in the occupied Palestinian territories for the Palestinian Institute of Applied Research (ARIJ).

Since the start of the war, more than 400 Palestinians have been killed by Israeli security forces or settlers, most in raids, attacks or clashes. Since 2016, the expert has counted 6,000 violent attacks by settlers, a third of them since January 2023 alone. They range from attacks on shepherds to arson and armed intrusions in Palestinian cities. Before October 7, the army sometimes intervened in a moderating manner, but now soldiers typically only act when Israelis are threatened.

According to Khalilieh, weapons in the hands of Jewish civilians are nothing new in the West Bank. Weaponry has increased enormously since training centers were opened in several settlements about 15 years ago, usually run by former military officers. Initially, the shooting ranges were intended primarily for settlement security teams. Over the years, they have opened up to visitors and eventually to ordinary tourists.

During martial arts and shooting training.

The Caliber 3 anti-terrorist training center in the Gush Etzion settlement, south of Bethlehem, is billed as “Commando Tourism.” Among the website's offerings is a “teen summer camp” for kids ages 15 to 17. The program includes martial arts, shooting training and Jewish history. The photographs and videos show minors wearing paramilitary uniforms and carrying compressed air weapons.

Anyone approaching the hilltop facility can hear the loud sound of gunshots from afar. There is a lot of activity behind a gate secured with barbed wire. Men and women with machine guns and dressed in camouflage run back and forth between the firing ranges. Under one canopy there is enough protective equipment to equip an entire platoon of soldiers.

A group of young women in Israeli border police uniforms wait in front of one of the office containers, with men dressed in olive green walking between them. Many guests are not clear at first glance whether they are soldiers or private visitors. According to the operators, their clients also include the Israeli army and police. The sister store offers a wide range of items, from uniforms to knives, weapons and ammunition. All training and sales are carried out “within the framework of Israeli weapons laws,” the office says.

Gilo also emphasizes cooperation with security authorities: “We are a democratic country and we do not want uncontrolled militias,” says Chaim Messika, who coordinates cooperation between the police and some two dozen security teams in Jerusalem as a volunteer. . But until the threat of Palestinian militants is eliminated, there is no alternative but to arm the population, says the burly man: “We are Jews, not Christians. “We will not turn the second cheek.”

At the ARIJ office in Bethlehem, Khalilieh hesitates when asked if he would like to have his own Arab citizen militia to protect himself. “No one has guns in Bethlehem,” she says. “We can see very well how the Israeli army is taking action against armed groups in places like Nablus, Jenin and Tulkarem.” Raids are carried out there again and again, and Palestinians, militants and bystanders are often killed. “Nobody wants that here, most people want equal rights and for their children to be able to go to school,” she says. “But people won't endlessly watch friends and family being killed.” She hopes for help from outside. Khalilieh believes that people here would accept a peacekeeping force that could credibly guarantee the security of the Palestinians.