TAMRA — From Baha Kenaan’s office, there’s a clear view of the Haifa oil refinery sprawling in the distance. He works in the small town of Tamra, just a few kilometers from the Israeli port city of Haifa, perched 300 meters above sea level.
The town is predominantly home to Muslim Israelis. Kenaan is one of them. “The Iranian missiles were aimed at the power plants and oil depots down there,” he says. “But on their way, one of them just fell on us — and took four lives.”
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Kenaan, 49, pale-faced and glassy-eyed, is the deputy mayor of Tamra. Like many others here, the shock is etched clearly across his face this Sunday morning.
A ballistic missile carrying a warhead weighing several hundred kilograms slammed straight into the Khatib family’s home. It killed Manar Khatib, the mother, her two daughters — 20-year-old Shada and 13-year-old Hala — and her sister-in-law. “I knew the family well,” says Kenaan. “The husbands are lawyers, like me. The women and girls were deeply respected in this community.”
Muslim, Christian, Druze
Late Thursday night, Israel launched its first-ever direct strike on Iran. Since then, both countries have exchanged blows in rapid escalation, and sleep has become scarce on both sides.
Twice on Saturday night, air raid sirens blared across Israel. The first barrage targeted the greater Haifa region and its critical infrastructure. For the first time, Iran followed through on a scenario Israeli officials had long feared — one seen previously in the war against Hezbollah in Lebanon: an intense missile strike concentrated on a single area, overwhelming even Israel’s advanced missile defense systems.
Israel deploys multiple defense systems to protect its power stations, but many of these critical facilities are located in areas where minority communities — often Arab — live with little to no protection from falling missile debris. Ayman Odeh, leader of the Hadash party, has accused the government of failing to provide sufficient public shelters, especially in Arab towns.
When Iran launched its historic first direct attack in April a year ago, firing about 300 projectiles, only one person was seriously injured in Israel — a Bedouin girl from the Negev Desert. That time, Iran targeted the nuclear research center in Dimona, deep in the desert, where Bedouin communities often live in poverty and isolation.
Rockets are now landing in places once thought safe.
North of Haifa, near Tamra, Arab Israelis — Muslims, Christians and Druze — live side by side. But few of these towns have adequate public shelters, let alone underground bunkers.
Shelter shortage
After the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attack and the subsequent barrage from Hezbollah, Jewish-Arab initiatives like Standing Together raised alarm over the discriminatory lack of protective infrastructure. Although Israel quickly degraded Hezbollah’s capabilities, the majority of casualties during that escalation were from the Arab minority.
Tamra itself, Kenaan says, doesn’t have a single underground public shelter. A Google Maps search confirms it. And yet only these subterranean bunkers offer real protection from the sheer destructive force of the missiles — as evidenced by Iran’s recent retaliatory strikes.
Not only strategic infrastructure but also residential neighborhoods now appear to be targets. In Sunday’s second wave of attacks, a missile hit a 10-story apartment building in Bat Yam, just south of Tel Aviv. The building collapsed entirely, burying many under the rubble. Rescue teams worked through the afternoon to stabilize the crater. Seven deaths have been confirmed so far, including several children.
Shattered decorative windows, splintered palm and cedar trees, and a balcony railing crushed under a collapsed roof — the street where the Khatib family lived now stands as a grim emblem of Israel’s new reality.
New reality
Despite having one of the world’s most sophisticated missile defense systems, rockets are now landing in places once thought safe. “We’re hunting the missiles,” an Israeli army spokesman said at a recent press briefing. But if you don’t make it to a bunker in time, you’re forced to witness that hunt firsthand — listening to the sonic booms of fighter jets as they scramble to intercept long-range missiles overhead.
On average, about 95% of incoming rockets are intercepted by Israeli defenses. That figure doesn’t yet account for Iran’s latest retaliatory strikes. Either way, the scenario that’s now played out in Tamra — what happened to the Khatib family — was always a possibility.
Most newly built homes in Israel are required by law to include private safe rooms. It’s unclear whether the victims were inside theirs when the missile hit. A volunteer at the scene points to the sunken roof: “The men and sons made it into the bunker,” he says. “That’s where the safe room was — the missile hit it directly.”
Outside the wrecked house, a bulldozer pushes together twisted window frames, car doors, and other debris. Every step taken by rescue workers crunches glass underfoot. Dust clouds swirl with every motion.
How will he ever get those images out of his mind?
The blast was so powerful it even collapsed the terrace steps of the house across the street. “Just step over it — I’ll help you,” says Mohammed Kewan, who lives there with his wife, two young sons, brothers, their families and parents. Fifteen people were inside the house when the missile hit. Kewan gestures to cracks in the foundation and beams sticking out from the ceiling like broken bones. “We’d all be dead. All of us. If we hadn’t been in the bunker.”
As he speaks, his trauma becomes more palpable. Asked what he heard at the moment of the blast, he hesitates: “Heard? I don’t know if I heard anything — or maybe I did — I just remember what I saw when I ran outside.” The mangled bodies of the dead had been thrown from the house. His young son saw it all. “How will he ever get those images out of his mind?”
Kewan says he’s a doctor in Tiberias — and a man of peace. He liked working with his Jewish colleagues. He liked his life. But now, he says, he can’t do it anymore. He’s already told his wife: “I’ve been wanting to leave this place for months.” He steps outside and surveys the destruction around him. Moments later, the air raid siren sounds again.
