Hura, early this week.
The writing was not on the wall, nor on the wing of the tent.
But it flowed on the main street where pirate gas stations polluted unhindered, it galloped down the secondary street like children on SUVs, and it spread out in the glow of the rock domes that began to pop up on the southern mosques like thorns after the sun.
Everything was there, just not police, government or even a semblance of law and order.
A city without a mother and father in Israel, meters from the main junction, and the anarchy does not even make an effort to pretend.
This is the Wild South, and here everyone knows how things are going.
The abominable terrorist who went on an afternoon trip to murder and kill Jews, just because they are Jews, is not a genius, a minority, or part of the handful.
It is the fruit of the despair that has grown in the side streets of Hura, the wild crops that have been plagued by Islamization, Palestinianization, and the variety of lies and masks that Bedouin and Israeli society tell themselves about "coexistence."
Those who, at a glance, created two systems of law, which enforced tightly only where it was easy, who judged the minor offenses severely but made it easier for the rioters, are the ones who created the "coexistence."
Coexistence, Alek.
As if there is the existence of a Jew and the existence of a Bedouin, as if there is the existence of here and the existence of there, as if there is the existence of "we" and the existence of "they".
"Rubik, Rubik, wake up," cried the roaring voices of fear around the police checkpoints, "instead of building brown squares."
As if the walls will separate the Negev from the south, as if we have another country.
But the attack took place meters from the sheds where Bedouin boys wash the Be'er Sheva cars, meters from where the croissant baker shouted "Mama's attack" and wanted support from the Bedouin Britza.
There can be no coexistence in this place.
There has never been "coexistence"!
There is only coexistence here.
Sharp as a stabbing knife, exists as the red blood you drank on the floor of the gas station, stabbing like the horrific murder at the entrance to the shopping center1.
The Bedouin society in the south, like the Jewish society in the Negev, is a full partner in Israeli society, but whoever allowed a land without law and order "in the small", received a land of cruel and murderous riots "in the big".
For too many years the captains of the state have chosen to be its captains.
Look away and continue to hope that miraculously, the South's free fall into a black hole of disorder, repression and neglect will somehow end on its own.
Well, the bottom of the abyss is already here, the floor is bleeding and the environment is burning.
Nothing worked or will work by itself, the clock rings in all the hell sections we have reached and announces in the public address system - welcome to the junction of fate, here there are only two options - to act or cease.
Were we wrong?
Fixed!
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