Dozens of activists from across the central Israeli city of Rehovot gathered at a small municipal building on Sunday evening for an emergency meeting. That morning, a message was sent in their WhatsApp group: “They want to shut us down. Emergency meeting tonight.”
The text followed the announcement of acting National Security Minister Haim Katz that he planned to cut the budget of the Israeli Anti-Drug Authority by 80%. The Anti-Drug Authority, formerly known as the Anti-Violence, Drugs, and Alcohol Authority, operates in municipalities across Israel, employing 1,600 staff members and thousands of volunteers. Its programs—many now set to shut down by April—focus on preventing crime and substance abuse and fostering safer communities.
While it may be just another budget line for his office, for Rehovot and other municipalities, it means the possible shutdown of critical community programs. That threat was clear at the emergency meeting in Rehovot, where residents of all ages and backgrounds—mostly volunteers representing different neighborhoods and communities—listened intently.
“This is a nationwide issue,” explained Yoni Rothenberg, the municipal director for the Anti-Drug Authority in Rehovot. “Just as we started receiving support and recognition from the municipality, a blow came from above. Last week, we heard rumors—ones that even the authority’s management couldn’t confirm at first.”
He said that they learned that Katz had decided on a cut of 150 million shekels, or about $41 million.
“This means layoffs and the closure of the Anti-Drug Authority,” Rothenberg said, his voice heavy with emotion. “Right when we’re trying to rebuild our communities, this project could be shut down, and everything we’ve built together would disappear.”
Katz told Davar: “The Anti-Drug Authority is not shutting down, and its employees will not be harmed. Essential activities will continue. The authority currently spends most of its budget on salaries rather than public programs. Due to budget constraints, a billion-shekel efficiency plan was implemented across all ministry bodies, including the police, prison service, and fire department. Reducing the authority’s scope is part of prioritizing resources amid growing security and emergency needs.”
Rothenberg explained to the volunteers and staff members Katz’ intention to allocate funds toward broader national projects rather than local community initiatives. A concerned activist asked, “What about each city’s specific needs? The needs in my neighborhood aren’t the same as those in Tel Aviv or Be’er Sheva.”
Some activists reacted with anger, others with sadness and frustration. Ideas were exchanged—perhaps a protest, forming alliances with other municipalities, or even giving up altogether. “We can’t let this happen. We need to block the road, make noise,” one activist declared. Another added, “Tomorrow, I’ll put up a sign: ‘Haim Katz, thank you for closing the community garden, for shutting down the parents’ patrol.’“
In Rehovot, the Anti-Drug Authority runs numerous initiatives: school safety programs, dropout prevention, and a parents’ patrol in the Kiryat Moshe neighborhood, where volunteers patrol public parks to support youth. But what makes Rehovot unique is its grassroots leadership—community leaders, hailing from LGBTQ+ groups to Ethiopian-Israeli and religious communities, guide the initiatives.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, volunteers provided for elderly residents, ensuring they had food, medication, and companionship. In wartime, they established safe communal spaces offering music, lessons, and activities for children. “Our teens were crucial,” activist Vered Baron said. “One taught chess, another math tutoring, another dance. They read bedtime stories to little kids. These programs gave them purpose.”
Rehovot’s Neve Yehuda and Sderot Chen neighborhoods maintain community gardens, women’s groups, and senior clubs run by the Anti-Drug Authority. “This is about filling the gaps the municipality can’t reach,” activist Adi Moskowitz explained. She and Baron even took a community leadership course through the Anti-Drug Authority. “There’s no way a city government can achieve this level of connection with residents.”
“This is our resilience,” fellow activist Nadav Fernandez emphasized. “In times of fear and uncertainty, people need a trusted local leader. Kids and parents alike need to feel supported.”
Like Rehovot, cities across Israel rely on these grassroots efforts. The authority’s work—often informal but deeply impactful—could disappear with the funding cuts, leaving many communities vulnerable.
“This community is strong because of these initiatives,” Fernandez said. “These ‘small’ programs shape lives. Once you take that support away, you break the people behind them.”
