Palestinians

The Israeli parliament’s approval of a legislation that seeks the death penalty for Palestinians convicted of deadly attacks has stoked fears among the Palestinians and drawn condemnation from the international community, dismayed at the further entrenching of what rights groups have long described as Israel’s “system of apartheid”.

The law, which does not apply to Jewish citizens of Israel, was met with jubilation among its backers in the country’s far right.

France, Germany, Italy and the United Kingdom have all raised concerns over what many describe as the overtly racist nature of the bill, whose nature and wording appear to exclusively target Palestinians.

“We are particularly worried about the de facto discriminatory character of the bill. The adoption of this bill would risk undermining Israel’s commitments with regards to democratic principles,” the foreign ministries wrote in a joint statement on Sunday.

Rights groups have also criticised the bill, with Amnesty International in February saying the legislation would make the death penalty “another discriminatory tool in Israel’s system of apartheid”.

Human Rights Watch (HRW) on Tuesday called the law discriminatory as it would primarily, if not exclusively, be applied to Palestinians.

“Israeli officials argue that the imposing the death penalty is about security, but in reality, it entrenches discrimination and a two-tiered system of justice, both hallmarks of apartheid,” Adam Coogle, deputy Middle East director at Human Rights Watch, said in a statement.

“The death penalty is irreversible and cruel. Combined with its severe restrictions on appeals and its 90-day execution timeline, this bill aims to kill Palestinian detainees faster and with less scrutiny.”

Nevertheless, on its successful passage through parliament, amidst the celebrating lawmakers, the legislation’s principal champion, far- right National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir – who has previous convictions for far-right “terrorism” – was seen brandishing a champagne.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who had attended the chamber to support the bill, could also be seen congratulating lawmakers on its passage.

So, how can Israel pass a law targeting one ethnic group and not others? Is that legal, and is this the first time Israel has passed legislation that deliberately discriminates against Palestinians?

Here’s what we know.

How does the law target Palestinians and not Israelis?

By limiting the bulk of the legislation to the military courts that only try Palestinians under occupation.

Under the new legislation, anyone found guilty of the killing of an Israeli citizen within the occupied West Bank will, by default, be sentenced to death by the military courts overseeing the occupied territory.

While the courts do not regularly publish statistics on convictions, in 2010, the court system did concede that, of the Palestinians tried for offences committed in the occupied West Bank, 99.74 percent were found guilty.

In contrast, Israeli settlers, who have killed seven Palestinians in just the weeks following the start of their country’s war on Iran in late February, are tried in civilian courts in Israel. According to an analysis by the UK’s Guardian newspaper in late March, Israel has yet to prosecute any of its citizens for killing Palestinians in the occupied West Bank since the start of this decade.

Under the new legislation, Israel’s civilian courts are granted an extra degree of leniency in sentencing Israelis found guilty of killing Palestinians in the occupied West Bank, with judges having the option to choose between the death penalty and life imprisonment.

Sentences for the military courts trying Palestinians, in contrast, carry an automatic death penalty, with life imprisonment only available under extreme circumstances.

According to a study by the Israeli rights group, Yesh Din, conviction rates for settlers found guilty by civilian courts of committing crimes against Palestinians in the West Bank (excluding East Jerusalem) between 2005 and 2024 ran to about 3 percent. Some 93.8 percent of investigations into settler violence were closed at the end of an investigation with no indictment filed, the group noted.

Underpinning much of this is Israel’s 2018 Nation State law, which, in the eyes of many, codifies Israel’s apartheid system of government, defining Israel as the exclusive homeland of the Jewish people and prioritising Jewish settlement as a national value.

Critics argue that it downgrades the status of Palestinian citizens, who make up about 20 percent of the population, by omitting any guarantee of equality.

How is that even legal?

According to many, it isn’t.

Despite the best efforts of Prime Minister Netanyahu and his Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich – who has administrative power over the occupied West Bank – to annex the Palestinian territory, it remains a foreign territory under military occupation.

According to Amichai Cohen, a senior fellow at the Center for Security and Democracy of The Israel Democracy Institute, international law does not permit Israel’s parliament to legislate for the West Bank, since the area is not legally part of Israel’s sovereign territory.

In September 2024, the United Nations General Assembly overwhelmingly called for end to Israeli occupation of the occupied West Bank and East Jerusalem within a year. The UNGA resolution backed an advisory opinion by the International Court of Justice (ICJ), which called Israeli occupation “unlawful”.

Similarly, the Association of Civil Rights in Israel announced it had already taken the matter to Israel’s highest court only minutes after the bill was approved. The group argued that the measure was “discriminatory by design” and that lawmakers had no legal authority to impose it on Palestinians living in the occupied West Bank, who are not Israeli citizens.

Is this the first time Israel has been accused of using its legal system to target Palestinians?

Far from it.

Human rights groups – including HRW and Amnesty International – have long argued that the legal systems applying to Palestinians and to Israeli settlers in the West Bank are fundamentally unequal.

Palestinians live under military law, while settlers fall under Israeli civil law, creating two parallel systems in the same territory.

According to rights groups, this structure enables discriminatory detention practices, such as administrative detention (where people can be held indefinitely without charge), dramatically unequal protections under the law, and the selective enforcement of those laws, which have all underpinned widespread accusations of apartheid.

As of March 2026, approximately 9,500 Palestinians are detained in Israeli prisons under harsh conditions, with about half held under administrative detention or labelled “unlawful combatants”, denied trial and unable to defend themselves.

Legislation relating to the treatment of children in custody has led to concern among many international observers and rights groups. Palestinian minors can be interrogated without parental present and are often denied timely access to legal counsel in defiance of Israel’s own and international law, the HRW noted.

Another key area of international concern is the ongoing demolition of Palestinian homes built without permits, which are nearly impossible for Palestinians to obtain. Unauthorised settler outposts, in contrast, are rarely troubled and increasingly retroactively legalised.

It was a devastating experience for Abdul Rahman Azzam, 65, to recently cut down the olive trees he had planted decades ago on his land south of Jenin in the occupied West Bank, following an Israeli decision to confiscate it for the construction of a road for an illegal Israeli settlement.

The land slated for confiscation last December spans more than 513 dunams (51.3 hectares), 450 of which belong to the village of al-Fandaqumiya alone, with the remainder belonging to neighbouring towns such as Silat ad-Dhahr and al-Attarra.

As Palestinians commemorate the 50th anniversary of Land Day this year, the challenges of illegal Israeli settlement expansions, land confiscations, and restrictions on access to their land, particularly in Area C, persist.

Meanwhile, Israeli government leaders continue to declare that the annexation plan is a fait accompli.

Land Day commemorates the events of March 30, 1976, when Israeli authorities announced the confiscation of vast tracts of Palestinian land in the Galilee region.

In response, widespread strikes and demonstrations were organised in several towns and villages, which were met with force, resulting in the deaths of six Palestinians and the injury and arrest of hundreds.

Since then, this day has become a national symbol, embodying the connection of the Palestinians to their land and the rejection of its confiscation.

Twice taken

Since childhood, Azzam had worked alongside his father, grandfather, and uncles, planting and ploughing the land with olive trees.

He developed a deep connection to it, which he continued to work on until 2002, when the illegal Israeli settlement of Tarsala and the Sanur military base were established on it, and he and his family were barred from accessing it.

Following the 2005 disengagement plan, the Israeli army withdrew from the camp and the settlement of Tarsala. Azzam and other landowners returned to their land, and their joy was indescribable.

However, after the recent Israeli decision, the Palestinian landowners were denied access to their land, which is now entirely under Israeli military control.

“Suddenly, we found the land number in the official newspaper along with a confiscation order for the construction of a road connecting the settlements of Homesh and Tarsala, to which the settlers had returned after the 2005 withdrawal. We saw the Israeli army had already begun bulldozing the land,” Azzam told Al Jazeera.

To prevent the Israeli army from cutting down his olive trees during the bulldozing, Azzam went to his land and cut them down himself. He wept as he did so. He then noticed that all the other landowners had done the same, fearing for their trees.

“It’s easier for us to cut them down ourselves than for the army or settlers to do it. This is our land, and our trees are like our children; we cherish them and treat them with kindness because we toiled to cultivate and care for them,” he added.

Confiscation in several ways

The Oslo Accords, signed between Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization in 1993, divided the West Bank into three categories: Area A, under full Palestinian control, comprising approximately 18 percent of the West Bank; Area B, under joint Palestinian and Israeli control, comprising 22 percent; and Area C, under full Israeli control, comprising 60 percent.

Since October 2023, Israel has been issuing confiscation orders for Palestinian lands in Area C at an accelerated pace in the West Bank, in preparation for implementing its annexation plan, which Palestinians believe is already being carried out on the ground without a formal declaration.

According to data from the Palestinian Authority’s Commission Against the Wall and Settlements, Israel seized 5,572 dunams of Palestinian land in 2025 through 94 confiscation orders for military purposes, in addition to three expropriation orders and four declarations of state land.

These orders were not isolated or circumstantial, but rather geographically distributed to serve the expansion of settlements, secure their borders, and construct settlement roads that further fragment Palestinian land and sever its natural contiguity, as it said.

Concurrently, Israel allocated 16,733 dunams of previously confiscated land for settler grazing, a move that reveals a dangerous escalation in the tools of control, according to the commission’s annual report.

In another report, the commission stated that between October 2023 and October 2025, Israel confiscated 55,000 dunams of land, including 20,000 dunams under the pretext of modifying the boundaries of nature reserves, and 26,000 dunams through 14 declarations of “state land” in the cities of Jerusalem, Nablus, Ramallah, Bethlehem and Qalqilya.

A total of 1,756 dunams were confiscated through 108 orders for military purposes, aimed at establishing military towers, security roads, and buffer zones around settlements.

However, it has become increasingly apparent that many land seizures are carried out without official military orders. Soldiers or settlers prevent Palestinian landowners from accessing their land, leaving them surprised to find it seized without any prior notification.

Mohammed Fouad, 56, was surprised on Wednesday to find an Israeli army bulldozer razing his land in the town of Ein Yabrud, east of Ramallah.

He went to the nearest point to the land and watched as the bulldozer removed trees, seemingly clearing a road for settlers.

“My land is 15 dunams … and is only 1km from the Beit El settlement, which is built on land north of Ramallah. I fear this bulldozing is a prelude to its annexation to the settlement, especially since it’s classified as Area C,” Fouad told Al Jazeera.

He was not notified of any decision regarding the confiscation of his land. A farmer who was nearby informed him of it. When he tried to inquire with the armed men accompanying the bulldozer, they told him they were from the Israeli army and intelligence services and expelled him from his land.

“I’ve always cared for this land, and now I’m watching it being bulldozed right before my eyes, unable to reach it. It’s as if they’re forcing me to leave. But I’ll try to reach it every day,” Fouad said bitterly.

Land confiscation procedures have been facilitated by several Israeli policies over the past two years to complete the annexation plan.

Raed Muqadi, a researcher at the Land Research Centre, told Al Jazeera that settlers have resorted to fencing off Palestinian lands to seize them, especially in the Jordan Valley.

This has affected thousands of dunams in the occupied West Bank that were used as pastures or agricultural land. Because of the fencing, Palestinians are prevented from entering or using it.

“The Israeli Knesset also recently approved what is called lifting the ban on data concerning landowners in the West Bank, which makes it easier for settlers to seize land and allows them to purchase it, even in Area A, with the help of settlement associations,” he explained.

Actual expulsion

The tragedy is not limited to land confiscation and seizure in the West Bank, but extends to the expulsion of entire Palestinian communities from their homes under the weight of attacks.

Qusay Abu Naim, 23, a resident of the Bedouin community of al-Khalail in the village of al-Mughayyir, east of Ramallah, told us that he and all other residents were forced to leave in February due to the intensity of settler attacks on the residents, some of whom were injured.

On February 21, Israeli settlers attacked the community intermittently, assaulting men, women, and children, resulting in injuries to an entire family of four, including two children. The Israeli army then joined the attack after the settlers filed a complaint that the Palestinians had resisted them. The soldiers opened fire, wounding the children, aged 12 and 13, further.

“This incident was the last straw. We decided to leave because the attacks were almost constant. When we returned from the hospital to dismantle our homes, we were shocked to find that the settlers had destroyed them and vandalised their contents,” Abu Naim explained.

The attacks against this community began in December 2024, intending to seize the lands of al-Mughayyir. The settlers deliberately targeted women, beating them and stealing sheep to force the residents to leave.

“Because of the numerous attacks, we sought help from international solidarity activists, but that didn’t stop the settlers. The activists were attacked several times in 2024 and 2025. Among the attacks, settlers broke my brother’s arm so severely that he needed a metal plate to repair the fracture. While he was receiving treatment, the Israeli army arrested him, even though he was the victim. He is currently being held in administrative detention without charge,” Abu Naim added.

In addition to the attacks, the homes of this community were repeatedly robbed by armed settlers. They would break into the houses and steal food from refrigerators, terrorising women and children.

The residents of the community were forced to leave for neighbouring villages, including Deir Jarir and areas within al-Mughayyir itself, but they still remember the years when they lived there in their communities, amid a beautiful Bedouin life, the images of which remain with them to this day, and they lament leaving it.

“Of course, it is now forbidden for any Palestinian to access the al-Khalail community area, which is under the control of settlers and the Israeli army. We left it, but the land will return to its original owners,” he concluded.

According to the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), at least 4,765 Palestinians were displaced from 97 locations between January 2023 and mid-February 2026 due to settler violence.

Most of those displaced were from Bedouin and herding communities in Area C. At the beginning of this year alone, 600 people were forced to leave a single Bedouin village, Ras Ein al-Auja, in the Jordan Valley.

According to the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), the number of Palestinian Bedouins in the West Bank is approximately 40,000. Most Bedouins are originally from the Naqab Desert, from which they were forcibly displaced or fled during the 1948 Arab-Israeli War, following further displacement after 1967, and then throughout the 1980s, they have continued to face waves of expulsion to this day.

The Israeli army fired tear gas at Palestinian residents of the Beit Imrin village, northwest of Nablus in the occupied West Bank. Israeli settlers can be seen setting up tents, while gunfire is heard as the Palestinians fled.

UN Special Rapporteur Francesca Albanese has said the world gave Israel a ‘licence to torture Palestinians’ as she presented her latest report to the Human Rights Council in Geneva. She criticised governments for allowing violations to continue with impunity.

“It’s not our war.” A small occupied West Bank community has buried four women killed in a hair salon during an Iranian missile attack meant for Israel.

Khan Younis, Gaza Strip – Historic landmarks often withstand centuries of volatile change, but when rockets and missiles fall, even the most enduring stones become fragile.

For generations of families in Gaza’s southern city of Khan Younis, the Grain Market was the first stop when they went shopping.

Reaching it meant walking past the historic Barquq Castle, a centuries-old structure dating back to 1387 and the very foundation of Khan Younis.

But for residents, the castle was more than an old monument; it was a familiar landmark marking the entrance to one of the city’s liveliest commercial spaces.

The aromatic scent of spices and dried herbs would accompany any walk towards the Grain Market.

But that was before Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza began. Israeli attacks inflicted heavy damage on the Grain Market and the Barquq Castle. The market has now been reduced to shattered alleys, with dust and heavy silence filling the air.

Sitting in his store along a row of damaged old shops, 60-year-old Nahed Barbakh, one of the city’s oldest and most well-known traders of staple food supplies, spent decades watching customers stream through the market. Now, only a handful pass by his shop.

“I’ve been in this spot for decades, day in and day out, watching people bring life to this place,” Nahed said. “Look at it now – it’s empty. These days, there shouldn’t even be space to walk because of the crowds preparing for Eid.”

He paused before gesturing towards the nearby castle.

“We always felt the weight of history here because we are so close to Barquq Castle. Now that history and life itself have been struck by the occupation.”

But Israeli fire did not take into account the market’s historic status. The Grain Market, long considered the economic heart of Khan Younis, was also among the first sites of destruction during the second month of Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza. More than two years of Israeli bombardment and repeated waves of displacement have left the market unrecognisable.

“The occupation killed many of our friends who worked here,” Nahed said quietly. “Those who survived have been financially broken. That’s why you see most of these shops are still closed.”

He pointed to some shelves behind him.

“My shop used to be fully stocked with goods at its high capacity. We even had extra warehouses to supply what people needed, especially during the busiest seasons.”

Before he could finish his sentence, a deafening blast interrupted him — the sound of an Israeli tank fire.

“And this is the biggest reason people are afraid to return,” Nahed said abruptly. “The yellow line is only a few hundred metres away from this street. At any moment, bullets can reach here.”

The yellow line is the name given to the demarcation line behind which Israeli forces withdrew as part of the first phase of October’s ceasefire agreement. It effectively divides Gaza into two, and Palestinians have repeatedly been shot for approaching it.

The yellow line has divided Khan Younis, dramatically reshaping the city’s geography. Israel has repeatedly shifted the line, moving it deeper into Gaza.

The Grain Market, once firmly at the centre of urban life, now sits close to the yellow line.

What used to be the city’s commercial heart has effectively turned into its edge, where people hesitate to walk, leaving the revival of daily commerce life a distant prospect.

Centuries of endurance

The Grain Market traces its origins to the late 14th century, when the Mamluk ruler Younis al-Nawruzi established Khan Younis in 1387 as a strategic stop along the trade route linking Egypt and the Levant.

Built as an extension of the Barquq Castle, which functioned as a caravanserai for travelling merchants, the market became a central commercial hub where traders and travellers exchanged goods, moving between Africa, the Levant and beyond.

The Grain Market occupies roughly 2,400sq metres (25,830sq feet). Its single-floor shops line a central street running east to west, intersected by narrow alleys branching towards smaller courtyards. The buildings preserve elements of their original construction, including sandstone walls and traditional binding materials that have survived centuries of repairs and modifications.

Over time, the market evolved into the primary commercial centre of Khan Younis, adapting to modern commerce while retaining its historic character.

But today, many of its shops stand damaged or shuttered.

According to Gaza’s Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities, the market is now among more than 200 heritage sites damaged in attacks by Israeli forces across the Gaza Strip since October 2023.

At the southern end of the Grain Market, where rows of vegetable stalls once overflowed with fresh produce, only one makeshift stand has opened.

Om Saed al-Farra, a local, stepped cautiously towards the stall, inspecting the small piles of vegetables laid out on a wooden crate. The expression on her face reflected more than surprise; it was disbelief at what the market had become.

“The market is deplorable now,” she said. “There used to be many stalls here and many choices for people.”

She gestured towards the empty stretch of the market’s vegetable section, once one of its busiest corners.

“These days were once filled with extensive joyful preparations for Eid, when families crowded the market to shop for food and essentials,” al-Farra said. “Now the market feels unusually gloomy, its stalls largely empty and its familiar vibrance gone. Everything is limited. Even if you have money, there are hardly any places left here for us to buy from.”

Economic collapse under fire

Although parts of the market’s infrastructure remain physically standing, many traders have not returned.

According to Khan Younis Mayor Alaa el-Din al-Batta, the Grain Market was once one of the city’s most vital economic lifelines.

“Just as it once connected continents, even under blockade, it continued to connect people across Gaza,” al-Batta said. “It holds a deep place in the memory of our residents. But once again, the occupation has brought destruction, targeting both our history and a critical lifeline for the people.”

For nearly two decades, Israel has controlled Gaza’s land crossings, airspace and coastline under a strict blockade. Since the genocide began in October 2023, restrictions have tightened further, pushing businesses and trade to collapse.

In a narrow western alley where scattered stones cover the ground, two cloaks hung outside a small shop. Inside, 57-year-old tailor Mohammad Abdul Ghafour leaned over his sewing machine, carefully stitching a torn shirt.

His shop was the only one open in the grey alley.

“I’ve been here since childhood,” Abdul Ghafour said. “My father opened this shop in 1956, and I grew up learning the profession right here in the market.”

Israel’s bombardment not only destroyed the place where he worked; it also killed dozens of his family members.

“On December 7, 2023, Israel committed a horrific massacre against my family,” he said. “I lost my father, my brothers, and more than 30 relatives.”

Burying his family members was only the beginning of the long, painful separation from the market and his shop.

“We were forced into displacement more than 12 times. I had many chances to leave as two of my children live in Europe,” Abdul Ghafour said. “But all I could think about was returning to my shop.”

When Israeli forces withdrew to the yellow line, he came back alone.

“I cleaned the street by myself. And if I had to do it again, I would. Whoever loves his land never abandons it,” he said. “I charge my batteries for my machine and come every day. My return encouraged some residents to come back too. But people still need shelter, water, and basic services before more families return.”

Resident Mohammad Shahwan stood in Nahed’s shop checking a list of items he hoped to buy.

“We left the crowded al-Mawasi as soon as we could to return to our damaged home,” he said, referring to the stretch of coastal Khan Younis that thousands of Palestinians have been forcibly displaced to. “But the number of residents here is still very small because of the destruction and lack of services.”

Still, Mohammad Shahwan said he was relieved to find the shop open at all.

“For the first time in two years, we’ll make traditional Eid biscuits,” he said, holding the list of ingredients. “The last two Eids were dark for my family after we lost my 17-year-old son, Salama. He and his aunt were killed by an Israeli strike.”

He could have bought the now-expensive supplies elsewhere, he said, but returning to the Grain Market carried its own meaning. “I wanted to buy them from here, just like we always did.”

Waiting for restoration

According to Mayor al-Batta, restoring the historic market will require a major reconstruction effort.

“The Grain Market needs a comprehensive restoration process to function again,” he said. “So far, our work has only been limited to clearing rubble and delivering limited water supplies for returning residents.”

The rebuilding process will require specialised materials and expert restoration work to preserve what is left of the historic structure. Municipal workers have already collected leftover stones from the ruins in the hope that they can one day be used in rebuilding parts of the market.

But reconstruction remains impossible under current conditions.

“More than five months have passed since the ceasefire began, yet not a single bag of cement has entered Gaza,” al-Batta said.

“We want to restore our historic identity and revive life for our people. But neither can happen while Israeli restrictions and violations continue.”

“The Voice of Hind Rajab,” a heartbreaking retelling of the efforts to save a 6-year-old Palestinian girl amid Israel’s attacks on Gaza, will be honored at the 98th Academy Awards on Sunday — without one of its star players.

Actor Motaz Malhees, who stars in the film as Red Crescent dispatcher Omar, confirmed Thursday that he will be absent from the festivities because of President Trump’s travel ban against Palestinians. “I had the honor of playing one of the lead roles in a story the world needed to hear,” Malhees said on Instagram, “but I will not be there.”

“I am not allowed to enter the United States because of my Palestinian citizenship,” he added.

Trump announced his widened travel ban in December, noting his decision to “fully restrict and limit the entry of individuals using travel documents issued or endorsed by the Palestinian Authority,” along with people from countries including South Sudan and Syria. The president issued the order months after he presented his 20-point peace plan for the Gaza strip — efforts that some Palestinians feel have been now brushed aside amid U.S. and Israeli attacks against Iran.

Malhees said in his post that the restriction “hurts” but offered his followers and supporters a kernel of truth: “You can block a passport. You cannot block a voice.”

“The Voice of Hind Rajab,” directed by Tunisian filmmaker Kaouther Ben Hania, is nominated in the international feature category. The film is set in a Red Crescent call center in Ramallah and centers the 70-minute phone recording of Hind’s pleas for help as she waits with her family in a trapped car for emergency responders. She and two medics dispatched to her location were killed in February 2024 in Israeli attacks in Gaza.

The film earned the grand jury prize at the Venice Film Festival.

Though unable to celebrate the film at the Oscars on Sunday, Malhees said he stands “with pride and dignity” and that his “spirit will be with the Voice of Hind Rajab that night.”

“Our story is bigger than any barrier, and it will be heard,” he said.

A representative for the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

As Malhees publicized his absence, fellow stars including Oscar winner Riz Ahmed and Emmy-nominated “Succession” star Arian Moayed rallied in support.

“Your work in the film and the film itself are both incredible and will live on forever,” Ahmed commented.

“You are brilliant, azizam,” Moayed replied to Malhees. “And this is heartbreaking and unjust.”

Occupied East Jerusalem – Basema Dabash sheds tears daily for the home she and her husband, Raed, were forced to demolish in Sur Baher, in the south of occupied East Jerusalem.

For years, the couple lived under the spectre of losing their home, ever since the Israeli authorities issued a demolition order in 2014. In January of this year, the eviction notice came. And then, on February 12, the family were forced to demolish their home. If they didn’t, they would have been forced to pay the municipality to carry out the demolition.

“We were forced to start demolishing the house ourselves to avoid the municipality’s demolition fees, which can reach 100,000 shekels [$32,000],” Basema, 51, said. “We started by breaking down the inside of the house and sent the municipality photos to confirm that we had begun the demolition, but they demanded that we demolish it from the outside as soon as possible.”

The family soon completed the demolition of the two houses where eight people, including three children, lived. However, this didn’t waive the fine of 45,000 shekels ($14,600), which will continue to be paid in instalments until 2029.

‘Self-demolition’ haunts Palestinians living in East Jerusalem, which has been controlled by Israel since 1967, and illegally merged with West Jerusalem under one Israeli-run administration.

The choice between self-demolition and paying a further fee to the municipality is a simple one – the vast majority of Palestinians can’t afford to pay the exorbitant amount, and resort to demolishing their own homes, despite the immense pain and profound psychological impact it causes.

‘How did we come to this?’

Basema’s troubles started in 2014, when she received a building violation notice from the Israeli municipality in Jerusalem for the building she and her husband shared with their married son, Mohammed, and his family. They appealed at the time to an Israeli court in an attempt to freeze the demolition order.

For more than a decade, the family was forced to pay accumulated fines in an attempt to keep their home. Then, on January 28, they received an eviction notice, giving them a deadline to vacate the house and have it demolished.

The house slated for demolition was 45 square metres (485sq feet), an extension Basema had added to her existing 45-square-metre home. She had also built a similar-sized residence for her married son on top of the extension. The demolition order targeted both the extension and her son’s residence.

The Dabash family tried to obtain a building permit for the house several times, but their requests were rejected by Israel. Despite this, the municipality fines Palestinians and demolishes their homes under the pretext of lacking permits.

“We chose to demolish our own house not only to avoid the fine, but also because the municipal crews show no mercy to anything around the house and deliberately vandalise the entire area under the pretext of demolition, breaking trees and causing extensive damage that we could have done without,” Basema said.

Basema, along with her husband and one of her sons, Abdelaziz, now lives in what remains of their home. Mohammed has also moved in with them, while his wife and children live in her family’s home. The demolition has thus scattered her son’s family, who haven’t yet been able to find a small house to rent due to the high cost of housing.

The family also incurred significant expenses removing the rubble and redesigning the older section of the house to accommodate everyone, not to mention the psychological toll, which has been devastating.

“I stand to wash the dishes and find my tears falling on their own. How did we come to this? Why are we being subjected to this injustice? The house has become cramped and barely fits us. My grandchildren visit us and then cry bitterly when they leave for their grandfather’s house because we have no space,” Basema said sadly.

Increased demolitions

As illegal Israeli settlements continue to expand in East Jerusalem and the occupied West Bank, with building permits easily obtained, Palestinians say the double standards are obvious.

Human Rights Watch has found that Israeli authorities make it “virtually impossible for Palestinians to obtain building permits”, and the Israeli human rights organisation B’Tselem said planning policies in East Jerusalem make it “very difficult for residents to obtain building permits”.

Marouf al-Rifai, spokesperson for the Palestinian Authority’s Jerusalem Governorate, told Al Jazeera that 15 self-demolitions were carried out last February, five in January, and 104 in December.

Demolitions, in general, escalated to unprecedented levels after October 2023, when Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza began. Al-Rifai said that 400 demolitions were carried out in 2025 in East Jerusalem and its surrounding area, either by municipal crews or by homeowners themselves. Prior to that, the number of demolitions had reached a maximum of 180 per year.

The United Nations has reported that demolitions in 2025 displaced 1,500 Palestinians.

“Even the method of carrying out demolitions changed after the war on Gaza,” al-Rifai said. “Previously, demolitions were only carried out after exhausting all legal avenues and giving residents the opportunity to appeal to the courts and freeze the demolitions.”

But Israeli authorities have taken a more punitive position since demolition policy fell under the influence of far-right Israeli National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, who began pushing for Israeli army bulldozers to carry out demolitions without even notifying the homeowners, al-Rifai said.

In addition, the Palestinian Authority official said, demolition notices for Palestinian homes in Jerusalem increased from 25,000 before the war to 35,000. The town of Silwan alone has received 7,000 demolition notices since 1967.

Fakhri Abu Diab, a member of the Committee for the Defence of al-Bustan Neighborhood in East Jerusalem, told Al Jazeera that self-demolition is a double punishment and pain for the homeowner after the effort and hardship involved in building the house.

“Israel’s goal is to break the morale of the Palestinians and to brainwash them into becoming tools for implementing its plans to demolish homes. When we demolish our own homes, it’s as if we are demolishing a part of our own body,” he explained.

Israel can only demolish a limited number of Palestinian homes annually due to logistical, financial, budgetary, and logistical constraints. Demolition by Palestinians multiplies the number of homes demolished, thus turning the victim into a “demolition contractor”, as he put it.

“I refused to demolish my house myself because of the negative consequences that I and my family would have to live with for the rest of our lives, and the Israeli bulldozers demolished it. If I had done it myself, it would have remained a nightmare that would haunt me.”

No alternative

But the cost of a demolition carried out by Israeli municipal crews ranges between 80,000 and 120,000 shekels ($26,000-$39,000).

Saqr Qunbur couldn’t pay that, and was forced instead, on December 26, to demolish his 100-square-metre (1,076sq-foot) house in Jabal al-Mukabber under the pretext of lacking a permit. He had built it in 2013 and was immediately issued a building violation notice.

Saqr told Al Jazeera that he had lived in the house with his wife and four-year-old child. Since building the house, he has received a total of 80,000 shekels ($26,000) in fines that he’s still paying despite his home being demolished.

Saqr had nowhere to live after being forced to demolish his house, so his neighbour gave him a dilapidated room to live in while he found a place to rent.

“My child has been suffering psychologically since we demolished the house. Every day he asks me why I demolished it, and I don’t know what to tell him. I say it’s so I can build him a better house, but deep down I know I won’t even be able to rent a suitable place,” he explained with anguish.

Saqr chose to demolish his house himself after he says an Israeli officer threatened him, saying, “Demolish it, or I’ll demolish it over your head”. He also wanted to avoid the humiliation that accompanies demolitions carried out by Israel, where police sometimes fire live ammunition and tear gas at family members and carry out assaults, as documented by human rights groups.

“I developed diabetes and high blood pressure after my house was demolished. The doctor said it was due to anger and grief. This is an occupation that wants to expel us from our land, and we want to stay,” he concluded.