While the world has focussed on the atrocities in Gaza, Israel continues its support of illegal settlements, hostility and apartheid in the West Bank. Ben Bohane reports from Bethlehem.
We are no more than 5 minutes out of Bethlehem on a crisp December morning when my Palestinian driver – let’s call him Ahmed – stops and points to a curl of smoke rising in the valley below, near Beit Jala.
“That’s a local restaurant the Israeli’s are burning since last night. They demand permits even when it is on family land. Israel then gives demolition orders, and no one can stop them.”
It’s the day before Christmas. I’m in the West Bank and Israel for a month to see the situation for myself, to try and understand how this comparatively small area continues to hijack history and our news agenda. Gaza remains off-limits to all foreign media attempting to report on Israel’s genocide there, so I can’t go.
The international Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) states 249 media personnel have been killed so far by Israel in Gaza, Yemen, Lebanon, Israel and Iran since the Gaza war began.
Israel has killed more journalists in the past three years than any other government in history,
assassinating more than all media personnel killed in all the wars of the 20th century combined.
Israel has also now banned many reputable international NGOs from operating there. In late January, the IDF finally acknowledged the death toll tally compiled by Palestinian health authorities as accurate, saying it believed 71,000 people had been killed so far.
I’ve come to the other front, the West Bank, as Israeli settlers and the IDF establish new illegal settlements and make life difficult for Palestinians just trying to eke out a living.
While I’m there, Israel announces 19 new settlements, bringing to 69 the number of new settlements approved in the past few years.
They are slowly circling and strangling Palestinian towns by taking the high ground on hilltops, establishing their own roads to link up with other settlements, and destroying ancient olive groves which locals have long relied on for a meagre income. Some of these trees are many hundreds of years old, and their desecration seems somehow symbolic of Israel’s attempts to change history and geography.
“We are trapped here”, says Ahmed. “Ever since October 7, Israel has closed off our access to Jerusalem and the rest of Israel. A lot of businesses are struggling to survive after 5 years of shutdowns – first it was Covid, and then the Gaza war. No tourists for years.”
Unless they are employed in one of a handful of jobs, such as in hospitals or working for a Christian organisation, Palestinians in the West Bank can’t leave. Denied both Palestinian statehood and Israeli citizenship,
West Bank Palestinians are caught in a limbo where they can’t travel into wider Israel or beyond.
“Israel controls all our movements, all our water, and controls our petrol supply”, says Ahmed. “The only thing they don’t control is the air we breathe, and if they could control that, they would.”
Bulldozer warfare
We visit a home recently bulldozed by settlers and fields uprooted because they were considered too close to the expanding nearby Israeli settlement of Beitar Illit. As locals lose access to their olive orchards, the only trees safe are those within towns or around their homes. I see a young boy with a wheelbarrow full of seedlings and uprooted olive saplings moving towards a nearby field. Ahmed translates:
“The boy says that part of their resistance is to immediately replant the olive trees when settlers chop them down. The olives aren’t just an income for us, they are part of our identity on this land.”
We have to be quick when visiting the contested edges of these towns and fields, as settlers are always watching from nearby hilltops and the IDF can be on scene in less than 5 minutes. On two occasions, my driver yells to get us back in the car for a hurried exit when he spots settlers driving down to intercept us.
Returning to Bethlehem, the annual Christmas parade is underway. Hundreds of Palestinian, Arab and Armenian Christians in uniforms march along roads leading to Manger Square in the heart of Bethlehem. Palestinian Authority police guard the route and Churches, including the Orthodox Basilica of the Nativity, first begun by Emperor Constantine’s Christian mother, Saint Helena, in the 4th century. Under this Byzantine church is a grotto where Jesus was supposedly born.
This is the first time in two years that Christmas celebrations, including a huge Christmas tree, have taken place. With few foreign tourists, shops in Bethlehem are happy to see many Muslim families from across the West Bank visiting with children to see Santa and the holy sites. It’s a peaceful time with Christian and Muslim families celebrating together.
I met Father Issa Thaljieh, a Palestinian (Greek Orthodox) priest overseeing the Basilica. ‘Issa’ is the Muslim name for Jesus. He says the number of Christians continues to dwindle, from 10% of the Palestinian population during the British mandate period 100 years ago, to around 1% today. Most live overseas now, with Israel incentivising their departure.
Apartheid
One thing I hadn’t known until I came here is that Israelis are forbidden from entering any West Bank towns. At the entrance to many towns I visited, including Jericho and Bethlehem, are large road signs in red warning Israeli citizens not to enter.
Although usually framed as a security measure to prevent kidnapping, it has the additional impact of preventing ordinary Israelis and Palestinians from mixing together and stops Israelis from really understanding what is going on across the West Bank. It underlined the sense of apartheid, along with the long winding separation wall that snakes between Jerusalem, Bethlehem and the rest of the West Bank.
Always interested in art and graffiti as forms of resistance, I cruise a length of the wall, near two refugee camps inside Bethlehem and come across artist Banksy’s ‘Walled Off’ hotel, which had only reopened the week before after 5 years of closure. Upstairs is a gallery supporting local artists, downstairs a museum about the wall and ‘occupation’, along with a chintzy piano bar styled like a frontier saloon.
The hotel faces a section of the wall emblazoned with graffiti and promises ‘the worst views in the world’. The wall began construction substantially in 2002, runs for 810kms and is Israel’s biggest infrastructure project. Banksy’s museum quotes the man put in charge of the build, Danny Tirza:
“The main thing the government told me in giving me the job was,
to include as many Israelis inside the fence and leave as many Palestinians outside as possible.
Down the road, a number of local stores have popped up selling cheap Banksy merch, and apparently, Banksy is fine with all the rip-offs.
Other days are spent visiting Jericho and Hebron with its shrine containing the tomb of Abraham, patriarch of all the monotheistic faiths.
It is a town often at flashpoint between Palestinians and hardcore Israeli settlers who have moved right into pockets of the town, protected by IDF soldiers. A day trip to Ramallah is aborted when my driver says that Israeli forces had entered that morning to destroy dozens of shops and shot two people.
“It’s too dangerous today to visit, and besides, it would take us 5 hours to get through the checkpoints instead of one hour as normal”, he says.
Every day across the West Bank, Palestinians must navigate security challenges, declining business and hungry families. Given the impunity with which Israel operates in Gaza, Palestinians across the West Bank are still standing their ground, but without much hope that the international community will stop Israel’s encroachment.
Netanyahu’s government wants to extinguish any hope of a two-state solution, but Palestinians will not cede their homes – or their olive trees – easily.
Revealed: Australian taxpayers subsidising the IDF, illegal settlements in Israel