For Israel’s Palestinian Citizens, Mahash Is No Address for Justice

The Knesset has recently approved legislation that changes the status of Mahash, Israel’s Department for Internal Police Investigations. The new legislation removes the agency from its previous position within Israel’s prosecution system, grants it broader prosecutorial authority, and places it directly under the Ministry of Justice as a separate body

The public debate surrounding the legislation has focused largely on whether the reform will strengthen or weaken Mahash’s independence. Supporters argue that the changes will improve its effectiveness. Critics warn that the new arrangement could expose the agency to greater political influence. Yet one voice has been largely absent from the discussion: that of Palestinian citizens of Israel, who arguably have the greatest stake in the existence of a strong, independent and credible mechanism for holding police accountable.

For most Jewish Israelis, Mahash is simply one component of the law-enforcement system. For Palestinian citizens of Israel, it is supposed to be a main address to which they can turn when state power is abused. It is supposed to provide assurance that police officers, like everyone else, are subject to the rule of law.

The problem is that, in the eyes of many Palestinian citizens, Mahash has never truly fulfilled that role.

The relationship between Palestinian citizens and the police is shaped by two seemingly contradictory realities. On the one hand, many Arab communities have suffered for years from chronic under-policing when it comes to violent crime and organized criminal networks. The unprecedented wave of murders that has devastated Arab communities in recent years has created a widespread sense that the state is failing in its most basic duty: protecting the lives of its citizens.

On the other hand, many Palestinian citizens experience policing as discriminatory, heavy-handed, and at times excessive when they themselves come into direct contact with law enforcement. In this context, Mahash is meant to serve as a crucial safeguard against abuse of power. That is precisely why its credibility matters so much.

The roots of the current crisis of confidence go back more than two decades. The defining moment was October 2000, when 13 Palestinian citizens of Israel were killed by police during demonstrations. After years of investigations, not a single police officer was indicted.

There may be legal explanations for that outcome. Prosecutors cited evidentiary difficulties and the inability to establish individual criminal responsibility. But public trust is not built on legal reasoning alone. For many Palestinian citizens, the conclusion was simple: thirteen people were killed by police, and nobody was held accountable.

Mahash has struggled to overcome that legacy ever since.

The 2017 Umm al-Hiran case deepened the crisis further. Yaqub Abu al-Qi’an, a Bedouin schoolteacher, was shot by police during a pre-dawn operation to demolish homes in the village. In the immediate aftermath, senior political leaders and police officials described the incident as a terrorist attack. Later, that narrative became far less certain. The Prime Minister himself eventually apologized to Abu al-Qi’an’s family.

Mahash investigated the case, but among many Palestinian citizens there remains a widespread perception that the full truth never emerged publicly. Over the years, reports, testimonies and claims by individuals familiar with the case suggested that investigators may have reached conclusions more complex than those ultimately reflected in the public record. Whether that perception is justified or not is almost beside the point. Trust depends not only on the integrity of investigations but also on the public’s confidence that investigators are willing and able to challenge powerful institutions when necessary.

To be fair, the story is not one of uninterrupted failure. During his tenure as head of Mahash, Uri Carmel recognized the deep crisis of trust between the agency and Arab citizens. He initiated efforts to make Mahash more accessible and responsive to Arab communities, encouraged engagement with Arab civil society, introduced the collection of data regarding complaints by national affiliation, and sought to place the issue on the agency’s strategic agenda.

Those efforts, however, were never fully institutionalized. After Carmel’s departure, the momentum faded. The opportunity to build a long-term relationship between Mahash and Palestinian citizens was largely lost.

This history matters because it puts the current debate in perspective. Critics of the new law warn that it could undermine Mahash’s independence. That concern deserves serious attention. But from the perspective of many Palestinian citizens, the problem did not begin with the current legislation. Their concern is not only whether Mahash will be independent in the future. It is whether it has ever demonstrated sufficient independence in the moments that mattered most.

The Abraham Initiatives has long argued that Palestinian citizens of Israel need both more effective policing and stronger oversight of policing. These are not competing goals; they are complementary ones. Palestinian citizens are the primary victims of violent crime in Israel today. They need a professional, effective police force capable of restoring personal security. But they also need robust, independent oversight mechanisms capable of ensuring that state power is exercised fairly, lawfully and without discrimination.

That is why the debate over Mahash cannot be reduced to questions of bureaucratic structure. Ultimately, Mahash will not be judged by where it sits within the organizational chart of the Ministry of Justice. It will be judged by whether citizens believe it is willing to pursue the truth when the state itself stands accused of wrongdoing.

Palestinian citizens of Israel may be the group that needs an independent and credible Mahash more than any other. Ironically, they are also the group least likely to believe that Mahash can deliver justice. Until that gap is addressed, no institutional reform will resolve the deeper problem.