Amidst the horrors of Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza, we must not forget what is happening elsewhere, Palestinians from Israel and the West Bank explain to James Taylor

The Israeli genocide of 34,000 Palestinians has been described by mainstream media outlets as an incident isolated to Gaza. A righteous, if heavy-handed, retaliation aimed at barbarous terrorists while the ‘collateral damage’ of those caught in crosshairs is a sad but inevitable outcome of an otherwise just operation. We have been led to believe that it’s only Gaza and Hamas that has been the focus of the onslaught. However, behind this narrative hides the deeper story of an increasingly lengthy and consistent assault on Palestinians across the region.

From the Jordan River to the Mediterranean, Palestinians have been subject to attacks, intensifying but not beginning after 7 October. Only recently we have seen Tulkarem, north of the West Bank, destroyed. Outside of the Green Line, in Israel’s ‘Triangle’ of Arab cities, Palestinians face censorship, racial discrimination and continue to live as second-class citizens in the ‘only democracy in the Middle East’. In this article, we speak to four young Palestinians across the West Bank and Israel who have kindly offered us insight into their lived experiences of Israeli expansionism and colonial policy. Interviews took place over Ramadan and a fortnight of change in the landscape of Israel, The West Bank and Gaza. 

Abdul, a 24-year-old Engineering Student from Shuweikeh, explains that life did not change after Hamas’ attack on 7 October 2023. ‘The same, but more intense’ is how he describes it. Abdul, living with his mother and father in a flat a few miles from Tulkarem, has been living under duress for the past six months whilst studying and supporting his family: ‘Shortly after [7 October] our neighbours’ house was shot at with submachine guns. They just kept shooting and shooting, I could hear windows breaking and we just jumped on the floor and kept down, it was quite bad actually. Since then, we keep the curtains closed, we worry about snipers taking shots through our window.’

Abdul is deadpan as he tells his story, a reflection of when how routine these incursions have become. Seemingly, the Israeli forces have specific targets they wish to detain and they will destroy every house in the street and apply a scorched-earth policy to areas where targets are not found. Footage of JCB vehicles ripping up homes and Palestinian roads are now widespread. Roads are collectively rebuilt and homes restored in the knowledge that the next incursion is likely to be weeks, if not days, away. As Abdul points out, this is nothing new. A year before Hamas’s attack on Israel, almost to the day in 2022, he was shot by a rubber bullet at his university campus on his way out of a class. There was not a single reference to this attack in the Western media, but Abdul has the photographs to prove it. One can only imagine if the roles were reversed and an Israeli student was shot, on campus by a Palestinian, what would be the outcry from the UK press?

Palestinians in Israel

Across the Green Line and over the Apartheid Wall, A’mal (20) and Ghadia (16), are sisters living with their parents in one of Israel’s ‘Arab Triangle’ cities. They talk, mainly over one another as many siblings do, of the discrimination and harassment they experience as Arab women. Israel’s triangle cities are populated mainly by Palestinians who managed to remain within historic Palestine following the ethnic cleansing that came after UN partition in 1947-8. They both describe how they feel relatively safe in their homes, so long as they post no reference to the ongoing genocide online. They say they are unlikely to experience a break-in at their house. However, in the street they are stopped, questioned and harassed by Israeli police and armed forces. A’mal, a healthcare worker described the daily situation: ‘We go into the street, we are abused because we are Arabs. The police, they insult us, they make disgusting comments toward us. We are racially discriminated against by others because we are Arab. The only ones who do not discriminate are the children. But their parents, the way they look at you, you know they are racist toward you.’

Ghadia, who opts to wear the Hijab as part of her Muslim faith, states that she has struggled to find work. ‘I apply for work to help with my studies, but when I go for my interview, they see I am wearing the Hijab and they dismiss me.’ Both are Israeli citizens, but are shouted at in supermarkets and accosted by strangers when venturing from home to their work or studies. This type of hostile environment, combined with their knowledge of what is happening to their families in Gaza and the West Bank cast a shadow on Ramadan and the holy period. ‘It feels strange,’ says Ghadia, ‘this is not Ramadan, this is not Eid, how can we eat and cerebrate while our people cannot?’ Ghadia concluded our talk by saying her only wish is to travel freely into the West Bank to see her family for whom she worries and misses. She states that travel to the West Bank, although not impossible, is much more difficult and time consuming even than before.

The West Bank

Inside Tulkarem, an area that has recently been devastated by a large-scale attack on homes and infrastructure, we meet Ishmael. A bespectacled, smart-looking young man, formally a bank worker, details the failing economy in the occupied territories. Both Abdul and Ishmael separately describe how Israelis have been withholding Palestinian wages, placing only around 40-50% of the monthly money into the pockets of Palestinian workers each month. This has meant many people have lost their jobs and are living only on support from their families. A little-known fact is that the Palestinian Authority pays all of the tax taken in the West Bank to the state of Israel, only for Israel to take its maqasa, effectively the country’s cut of Palestinian revenue, before returning the money back to the Palestinian Authority (PA) for distribution. Normally this is around 20%, but as of late, it has been much more, meaning PA workers or any who rely on PA revenue streams have seen their income significantly reduced. Moreover, assets have been frozen, and Abdul even described the robbery of gold shops in the city centre.

On top of this, Tulkarem is now a shell of the city it was only a few weeks ago. Lengthy bombardments, sniper attacks and indiscriminate shelling of houses and large crowds have seen the once vibrant city turned largely to rubble. The Nour Shams refugee camp, which has stood as a symbol of Palestinian resistance since the 1948 Nakba, bore the brunt of the offensive. Ishmael says he lives in fear for his life every day. ‘The Israeli army storms the city every week, from the sky and on the streets, it is terrifying, the noise of the planes is so loud and they enter when we are asleep.’

Abdul talks of how he stays awake each night from 11pm to 7am so that he can forewarn his mother and father of any potential incursions on their home. This nocturnal lifestyle over many months has taken its toll on his mental health. Abdul describes the anxiety: ‘I cannot sleep anyway. Many people tell stories of waking up in the middle of the night with guns in their mouths. You don’t even have to be involved in the brigades [resistance groups], you may be the father or friend or brother of someone involved in the resistance, and they will take you and use you to bargain with. People are taken in the middle of the night from their beds, their children sleep next to them because they fear they will never see them again. I stay awake so I can warn my family if Israelis are coming, at least then we can goodbye. We are not in the resistance, but they target anyone.’

Prior to Hamas’ attack, 2023 was one of the deadliest years on record for Palestinians in the West Bank, with 234 people murdered; 52 of them were killed in the Jenin camp in July of last year. The incursion lasted for days and was thought by many to be a huge escalation in violence that would spark inevitable uprisings. In September 2023, a 16-year-old boy, was shot in Tulkarem. Countless other stories, just like these, are going on across the West Bank. Throughout the year, settler violence has increased, attacks on the Al-Aqsa compound have become common place and the tension around the region was tangible.
Brutality, fear, humiliation and othering is part of daily life for those living out the consequences of the Nakba and the post-1967 occupation. The stories of A’mal, Ghadia, Ishmael and Adbul are not unique, but symbolise the wider context that needs to be considered by all in the West when talking about the current genocide. Netanyahu, Biden, Sunak and the list of world leaders that prop up the apartheid state through arms sales and seemingly unconditional financial aid will have us believe this genocide is about ‘retaliation’, ‘self-defence’ and bringing home hostages. Israel holds hundreds of child prisoners and thousands of adults on indefinite, administrate detention, without charge or trial. Many of those held are subject to degrading treatment and torture, all in the name of Israeli ‘self-defence’. The language shapes the narrative, as ever. Of course, as empathetic beings we turn our focus to Gaza; the decimation of the area has been nothing short of catastrophic. However, we cannot lose sight of the wider situation: the ongoing ethnic cleansing. The process of de-Arabisation in the area is hegemonic. It was only in September 2023 Netanyahu stood in front of the Knesset holding a map of the ‘New Middle East’, that paid no reference at all to Palestine, Gaza, the West Bank or the Golan Heights. Instead the map included the areas in an all-encompassing map of Israel. Internationally, these areas are recognised as Palestinian and Syrian respectively, yet the continued attitude of the increasingly far-right Israeli coalition government is systematically to remove Palestine not just from the map, but from the conversation. It is our job to ensure that we remind the public that this is a longstanding war on Palestine and Palestinians across the region.