In the vast, sunbaked Jordan Valley a black minibus with dark windows pulls away, kicking up a swirl of dust. The route feels familiar, yet nothing about this journey is ordinary anymore—the land is disputed, and the road is edged with risk. The speed of the vehicle underscores the danger ahead. Its passengers know they are not welcome on these roads. Radical settlers now control lines once used by Palestinian shepherds, blocking passage as they claim ownership. One traveler, Daphne Banai, recalls, We are seen as traitors. The group in the black van, Israelis devoted to anti-occupation work, has mobilized with renewed energy since October 7, aided by support from parts of the West Bank governance. They have doubled their efforts in response to the mounting pressures.
We now accompany Palestinian shepherds around the clock, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. They sleep within their own communities so they can rest and live with less fear, a claim echoed by this activist who speaks of ongoing protection. The organization, founded in 2001, brings together women and men from diverse segments of Israeli society, standing with Palestinians and documenting violations. We are not enough, Banai acknowledges to El Periódico de Cataluña from Prensa Ibérica. In a political shift to the right, a growing number of Israelis live far from conflict, yet Palestinian society faces daily hardship as a result. During protests over judicial reform, even some left-leaning demonstrators overlooked the concerns of a minority of activists who condemn the occupation as part of a broader social movement.
‘Palestinian lives matter’
Despite their aging, Banai and colleagues remain steadfast in the cause. They acknowledge feeling isolated as a minority. A member named Guy Hirschfeld describes embracing a Palestinian shepherd who continues to graze cows despite settlers cutting off the water source. He argues that public interest could shift in weeks or months, sparking greater awareness of the occupation. Wearing a T‑shirt that reads ‘Palestinian Lives Matter,’ a representative from a Palestine-focused organization expresses cautious optimism. The aim is to wake up Israelis to the situation, even if many are reluctant to confront it. The speaker notes that democracy and occupation cannot coexist peacefully, and this belief informs their outreach work.
In recent months, more people joined protests against judicial reform, a movement that had been significantly hamstrung on October 7. While demonstrations against the prime minister resume, the leadership faced no formal recognition. More citizens expressed an interest in the occupation, lamenting past neglect and seeking solidarity. The organization once counted about 500 Israeli women among its members, but time has taken its toll. Age has reduced numbers, and many cannot accompany shepherds anymore. Yet the remaining members, though older, see themselves as still capable of making a difference.
The minibus scene captures a stark image—the loneliness of anti-occupation activists in a landscape where fear and desperation mix with resolve. The witness continues to chronicle acts of solidarity when possible, even as access to certain communities becomes increasingly restricted. The testimony highlights the persistent toll on those who speak out against oppression and the broader sense of isolation felt within a divided society.
The documentary frame shows a group attempting to hold a line of conscience in a country undergoing intense political change. The witnesses describe a daily reality in which settlers operate with a troubling degree of impunity, displacing Palestinians and challenging any resistance. The casualties of violence, including deaths reported in the last two months, are cited as evidence of a deteriorating situation. The activists recount instances when police could not respond, or were accused of assisting groups linked to violence, prompting a sense that protection for Palestinians and their supporters has eroded. The image of a lone minibus traveling through fragile ground remains a powerful symbol of a fraught human rights struggle.
In their retelling, the activists argue that the status quo no longer aligns with the values they once believed could guide a peaceful coexistence. The political climate, they say, has shifted toward a harsher reality where outreach is harder and visibility is constrained. Yet a sense of duty persists as they navigate a landscape where empathy can feel scarce and where the path forward seems uncertain. The goal remains to keep the dialogue alive, to remind audiences that the lives of Palestinians matter, and to press for accountability in a context marked by division and fear.
For those who continue to travel in these small, stubborn crowds, the journey is as much about bearing witness as it is about finding a way to reduce harm. The road, dusty and contested, mirrors a larger struggle to heal a history of conflict and to protect vulnerable communities under threat. The scenes captured in this narrative offer a window into a long-running effort to document abuses, offer protection where possible, and demand a future where human rights are respected on all sides of the line.
Despite the toll, the drive persists. The minibus tires hiss on asphalt as it moves forward, carrying with it the weight of many voices that insist on dignity, safety, and justice for all involved in this enduring conflict.