The Steinhardt Museum of Natural History in Tel Aviv now displays preserved reptiles, a stark testament to the ecological crisis facing the region, where half of Israel's reptiles are endangered. This exhibition, featured in a Haaretz report by Moshe Gilad on April 9, 2026, presents a static view of biodiversity under threat.
Among the specimens is a Beer Sheva fringe fingered lizard, preserved in a jar with its body intact and brownish colors clear. The article notes its expression appears perky, despite the specimen being dead.
Karin Tamar, an evolution researcher and curator of mammals, reptiles and amphibians at the Steinhardt Museum, presents a row of jars containing these lizards. The view of the preserved animals is described as mesmerizing.
The display is identified as the Father Schmitz collection, with a photograph credited to Itai Ron. These collections serve as a record of species, many of which face an uncertain future outside museum walls.
The Haaretz article's headline itself poses the question of who will save the Lebanon viper and Levant rat snake, highlighting the systemic failure to protect these species.
The Cost of Development
The fact that half of Israel's reptiles are endangered underscores the profound ecological cost exacted by unchecked development and resource extraction. The crisis has reached a point where a significant portion of regional biodiversity is at risk.
The Beer Sheva fringe fingered lizard and its "friends" are featured in "The Red Book of Reptiles." This publication began with surveys and marks the start of new conservation efforts.
These "new conservation efforts" represent a belated response to a crisis already deeply entrenched, as evidenced by the alarming rate of species endangerment. The focus on documentation and preservation within museum walls contrasts with the ongoing destruction of living habitats.
The museum, by showcasing these preserved forms, inadvertently highlights the consequences of an economic system that prioritizes profit over ecological balance. The "mesmerizing" quality of the display serves as a reminder of what is being lost.
The question of "who will save" these species remains unanswered by the current structures, which have allowed such widespread endangerment to occur. The collection of dead specimens becomes a monument to the systemic failures that precede any "new conservation efforts."
The article, published by Haaretz, documents a moment where the consequences of environmental degradation are being cataloged and displayed, rather than fundamentally addressed at their root. The focus on individual species in jars distracts from the broader systemic forces driving their decline.
The preservation of a dead lizard, described as "perky-looking," offers a grim irony against the backdrop of widespread endangerment. It is a snapshot of what once was, now confined to a jar, while the living struggle for survival.
The State's Role in Documentation, Not Prevention
The role of institutions like the Steinhardt Museum, while valuable for scientific record-keeping, primarily functions to document the losses rather than to fundamentally alter the conditions that create them. The "new conservation efforts" are presented as a starting point, implying a long period of inaction or insufficient action prior to this documentation.
The "Red Book of Reptiles" and its surveys are a catalog of decline, a bureaucratic response to a material problem. The urgency implied by "half of Israel's reptiles are endangered" stands in stark contrast to the slow, reactive pace of such initiatives.
The display of the Father Schmitz collection, while visually compelling, serves as a memorial to species under threat, rather than a catalyst for the radical systemic changes required to reverse the tide of extinction. The beauty of the preserved forms masks the violence of their disappearance from the natural world.
The article's framing around "who'll save" these species points to a collective abdication of responsibility by the very systems that perpetuate the conditions leading to their demise. The museum becomes a repository for the casualties of capital's expansion.