In the West Bank, daily life persists amid mounting tensions
The room is thick with cigarette smoke as paper cups of coffee pass around. A portrait of Yasser Arafat watches over a wide office, a calm smile beneath Palestinian flags. The youths from Deheisha refugee camp in Bethlehem describe a place where nothing feels different, even as turmoil intensifies. Since the Hamas–Israel war began on October 7, solidarity with Gaza City has grown, yet the West Bank faces its own pain. In the last two weeks, radical settlers and Israeli soldiers have killed at least 84 Palestinians. The year 2023 is already the deadliest in the West Bank since the second intifada began in the early 2000s.
“The raids have not stopped,” says Mahmoud from Deheisha. “Today, soldiers entered the field twice, at four in the morning and again at ten.” The 32-year-old barber, who has spent four years behind bars, recalls mornings when violence intruded into ordinary life. Just hours before this account, a young man in the countryside was shot by the Israeli army. Two deaths followed the previous day. “And so every day,” he adds with despair. The five young people from rural areas acknowledge that what Hamas did on Saturday altered their fate too. “This is our right,” says Jalil, 30, defending the action. “We are used to it in the West Bank,” they lament the daily toll on civilians.
Yet the Gaza violence once again exposes the lives of thousands living under occupation. Halil, a transporter near Bethlehem, cannot go to work because the conflict began. He must travel to Hebron, about 30 kilometers south, but roads are blocked and checkpoints dot the route. Movement restrictions are worsened by military raids, mass arrests, and violence from settlers and soldiers. “The situation is getting worse, and more children will die,” Halil laments.
1,070 arrests
“No matter what you do, they arrest you and throw you in jail,” a Barça fan tells this paper. “If you like a post on Facebook or say I am with Gaza, they arrest you.” Israeli forces have detained about 1,070 people in the West Bank since October 7, including those suspected of ties to Hamas. More than 4,000 Gazan workers with permits to enter Israel were detained when the war began, trapping them in hostile territory. The total number of Palestinian prisoners in Israeli jails could soon approach 10,000 within a few weeks.
Beyond impunity for colonial authorities, reports indicate at least ten Palestinians were shot and killed with little accountability. Authorities have shut down Palestinian villages near Israeli settlements, a move condemned as illegal under international law. People fear that stepping onto the streets could become a death sentence. United Nations humanitarian data show that in September roughly 1,105 pastors were registered, and about 12.5 percent of the West Bank population left their homes last year.
Despite instability, Palestinians in these areas have not hesitated to aid Gazan kin stranded in Israel. Some 18,000 Gazans hold work permits in the Hebrew state; those who escaped detention are now housed in cells and community centers in the occupied West Bank. In this climate, Mahmud, Khalil, and friends began coordinating aid from the Deheisha camp headquarters.
In recent months, many youths have formed armed groups such as the Lion’s Den and the Black Cave in response to persistent aggression. “We do not possess weapons like in Jenin and Nablus, but we are not supporters of terrorism either,” explains Mahmud, describing a form of resistance. The violence is fueled by impunity of the Israeli colonial regime, with homes destroyed to clear space for settlers. Settlers have used the chaos to intensify attacks, and plans for new housing units in Palestinian territory—topping 12,855 units in 2023—have drawn international condemnation as illegal under international law. Observers note that settlement activity has accelerated since 2012.
“PA is part of Israel”
Freedoms claimed by Israeli authorities contrast with the lack of accountability in Palestinian territories. “While Gaza burns, we hear nothing or receive no help from the Palestinian Authority,” Mahmoud argues. He contends the PA now acts like an extension of Israel because it aids the Israelis. “We want this authority to change and to stop serving its own interests and the Israelis’ aims,” Khalil adds. During protests after the Al Ahli hospital bombing in Gaza, Palestinian youths in major West Bank cities clashed with PA security forces trying to quell the demonstrations.
“We do not believe the situation would unfold this way if the war in Gaza ended,” explains Bashar, who spoke after recruiting new Gazans. “We face daily problems; there is no real security here,” he says, as others nod in agreement. “Perhaps if the war in Gaza continues, we will see fewer soldiers here,” he suggests with dissatisfaction. Mahmoud makes his stance clear: “We do not want peace with the Israelis; it is homeland or death.” The coffee remains hot as smoke lingers. Hours pass, and the reality stays stubbornly similar to weeks before, though the violence shadows daily life more often.
Source note: This account reflects testimonies and observations from individuals living in West Bank and Gaza-adjacent communities as they navigate conflict, displacement, and the struggle for basic rights in an ongoing crisis. (Attribution: local reporters and humanitarian partners)