Zakaria Zubeidi: A Life of Violence — And Why We Must Remain Vigilant

Zakaria Zubeidi’s name is well known in Israel — not for building bridges of peace, but for sowing chaos and destruction. His story is not one of inspiration, but a chilling reminder of the dangers posed by glorifying terror under the guise of "resistance."

Born in 1976 in the volatile Jenin refugee camp, Zubeidi's early life was steeped in anti-Israel sentiment. He attended UNRWA schools, institutions often criticized for perpetuating hostility against Israel. Although he was a bright student, early injuries from clashes and a politicized environment pulled him into the violent currents that would define his path.

His family background was deeply political: his mother, Samira, was an activist; his father, Mohammed, an English teacher sidelined for alleged Fatah ties. Tragedy struck in 2002 when his mother and brother were killed during Israeli counter-terrorism operations — tragedies he later used to justify his descent into militant leadership rather than choosing a path of peace.

Zubeidi rose quickly during the Second Intifada, becoming a leader of the Al-Aqsa Martyrs’ Brigades in Jenin — one of the deadliest branches of Fatah’s armed wing. His leadership wasn't just symbolic; it was operational. He orchestrated shootings, bombings, and recruited countless young Palestinians to embrace terror as a way of life. His name was tied to a 2002 attack in Beit She’an, where six Israelis were brutally murdered.

Recruitment under Zubeidi wasn’t random. He selected young men, many radicalized by personal loss, feeding them a diet of hatred and promising them martyrdom and honor through murder. In effect, he manufactured an army of despair, weaponizing grief into terrorism.

Ironically, despite leading armed violence, Zubeidi later dabbled in the arts. He co-founded the Freedom Theatre in Jenin, presenting himself to the world as a cultural activist. But beneath the surface, Israeli intelligence continued to see him for what he was: a man who wore the mask of art while never truly abandoning terror.

His time in Israeli prison offered another glimpse into his duplicity. While incarcerated, he earned a Bachelor's degree in Sociology and enrolled in a Master’s program at Birzeit University, studying the Palestinian "hunter and dragon" experience — an academic exercise that sanitized his bloody legacy.

He learned Hebrew fluently behind bars and spent his time reading political science, sociology, and psychology — sharpening his mind for future conflict, not for reconciliation.

In 2019, Israeli forces arrested him again for planning fresh attacks. He was involved in shooting at civilian buses — proof that he had never changed, only adapted.

And then, in September 2021, he shocked the world again by escaping from Gilboa Prison — a stunning intelligence failure. Though he was recaptured days later, the incident proved his relentless danger.

Now, following his release in January 2025 as part of a controversial prisoner exchange, I — like many Israelis — feel a profound sense of dread. Zakaria Zubeidi walks free again.

And let me be clear: I fear his release deeply.

I fear the day his name once again headlines news reports tied to new bloodshed. I fear that his so-called "cultural activism" will once more mask violent ambitions. I fear for the innocent Israeli lives that could be shattered by his unchecked freedom.

But fear will not paralyze us. I, for one, will be watching him like a hawk.

Zakaria Zubeidi is not a misunderstood activist. He is a seasoned operator of terror. His record speaks volumes. And we must never allow wishful thinking to obscure the reality: this man represents a living threat to Israeli security, to peace, and to every value our democracy cherishes.

Vigilance is not optional. It is our obligation — for ourselves, for our children, and for the future of Israel.