July 9, 2025         Aliya

I used to be afraid to cross the road and look at my house like a stranger.
Today, what I feared has happened.
Today, we are strangers — as if the house was never ours, as if we never drank tea there, as if we never played there.
We are strangers.
When you pass by, ask the house: Where are your residents? Where is your family? Where are your loved ones?
Our names are still there on the wall — all the names of my family.
I can never forget Ma’arajat. Every time I pass through that road, I will cry for it.
Life ended after Ma’arajat. —- Aliya

WhatsApp message. Courtesy of Aliya. Identity slightly altered.
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In Memoriam Mu’arrajat. text: David Shulman; photographs: Margaret Olin

The village of Mu‘arrajat is gone, ravaged and despoiled by savage settlers. There were years of harassment, large-scale theft, repeated violence, and death-threats.  On July 3, 2025, after a gruesome night, the villagers took apart their homes, loaded their few possessions onto trucks, and left. Remember that date of infamy.

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June 27, 2025.    Mu‘arrajat and Ras al-‘Ain. Text: David Shulman.

Ras al-‘Ain, December, 2024. Photograph: Margaret Olin

Ras al-‘Ain has been partly vacated. Muhammad’s compound is totally empty: no sheep, no shepherds, empty sheepfolds. We are told they went north to the hill country, near Tubas, where the temperatures are somewhat cooler. Many of the shepherds in the Jordan Valley have made this seasonal migration in the summer months. But this time it’s different. After the ceaseless harassment and attacks, the massive theft of sheep, the lack of water, the shameless complicity of the soldiers and police in the settlers’ crimes—or for that matter, their joint initiatives—Muhammad’s sons may have embarked on the first stage of leaving their homes forever.

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In Memoriam: Michal Peleg, 1959-2025. Text by David Shulman; photographs and additional text by Margaret Olin

Jerusalem, 2022. Photograph: Margaret Olin

Michal Peleg is now gone. Another enormous loss, just two weeks after Muhammad died.

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May 29, 2025  Ras al-‘Ain. text: David Shulman

         

Muhammad Rashaida, 1964-2025. photo: Margaret Olin, December, 2024.

Emptiness. Sorrow. The madafeh, indeed the whole village, feels empty without Muhammad. Just last week we were sitting with him, drinking tea, chatting,devouring the cake he had bought for us. We took for granted his gracious manner, his steadiness, his gentle nature. He seemed as solid as the desert rocks, as the rolling waves of the hills. He was killed earlier this week in a car crash near Nablus; his car collided with a huge truck, and he died instantly. This man who survived years of settler violence and harassment, the theft of his herd, the never-ending threats from soldiers and police, died in broad daylight on the road.

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May 23, 2025.      Mu‘arrajat, Ras al-‘Ain, Magha’ir a-Dir. Text: David Shulman. Photographs: Margaret Olin and David Shulman

Magha’ir a-Dir, 2024. photograph: Margaret Olin

Just past Hizma Junction, on our way to Ras al-‘Ain, we get the news. The Palestinians of Magha’ir a-Dir are taking apart their village and then they will be gone.

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March 15, 2025, Zanuta. Text: David Shulman, most photos: Margaret Olin

Zanuta, 2022

You remember the story of Zanuta, the ancient village in the hills at the southernmost point of the West Bank. Israeli settlers from the illegal outpost nearby terrorized the people of Zanuta, and after years of this torment, the villagers fled their homes. They appealed to the High Court of Justice, which found in their favor in July 2024:  they were to be allowed to return to their homes, and the police and army were to protect them there. The second clause was pure fantasy: you won’t find an honest policeman or army officer anywhere in the territories. They have fused with the violent settlers.

Zanuta, 2024. Photo: David Shulman
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December, 2024, Masafer Yatta, February 2, Mu‘arrajat: texts Margaret Olin and David Shulman

Ahribat a-Nabi, December, 2024

1. Visits to Prisoners. Text and photographs by Margaret Olin

I began this post on Martin Luther King Day, 2025, a moment to think back on all we in the United States have achieved and the distance we still must go to realize King’s dream of racial equality. In 2025, this day of concern for justice and love also marked the inauguration of a president who opposes these values and many others we hold. Some, dreading this event, found ways of trying to forget about it. My way was to think back to my visit to Israel and Palestine this past December.

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Ras al-‘Ain, December 15-16, 2024. text: David Shulman; photographs: Margaret Olin

Daily settler attacks on Ras al-‘Ain are becoming tougher, also more dangerous; more settlers involved, more outrageous acts, more physical violence, a surplus of arrogance and burning hatred. Every day they invade the village, on horseback, on donkeys, in their vehicles, with their herds of sheep and camels. It feels like something bigger is boiling, about to spill over.  They know they are completely immune to punishment of any kind; the police and soldiers stand with them. As for the government, the extremists, including the prime minister, initiate, fund, arm, and fully support lethal settler violence everywhere on the West Bank, with the unmistakable aim of expelling the entire Palestinian population of Area C.

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December 8-9, 2024, Ras al-‘Ain, text: David Shulman; photographs: Margaret Olin

 We (Peg, Yehonatan, the Haredi activist, and I) spent a quiet night in the madafeh at Ras al-‘Ain.

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