In Nablus ‘to survive you can’t think about tomorrow’
Palestinians wait at an Israeli military checkpoint near Nablus after Israeli forces close checkpoints and iron gates at the entrances of Palestinian cities during the US-Israeli war on Iran, 3 March 2026
Jean Stern writes in The New Arab on 31 March 2026:
“Nablus is at the centre of a huge prison, surrounded by fourteen Israeli settlements and many checkpoints which are closed by the army most of the time. How much longer do we have to suffer? They’ve destroyed Gaza and are threatening to destroy us. But they can’t destroy our identity”, says one of my Nablus contacts with a sigh.
Social misery, murderous repression, fear of disappearing, a feeling of abandonment. I thought I had used up those words trying to describe the Palestine of years gone by.
But in the few days I spent in Nablus at the beginning of February 2026, I realised I’d have to use them again to convey the mounting terror. To a point where many inhabitants dread the possible end of their city’s glorious history, this splendid ancient rival of Jerusalem, Damascus and Cairo, nestled at the heart of a fertile region.
“After what they’ve done to Gaza, we can expect anything, can’t we?” says a young intellectual, who has a hard time feeding his wife and children, even though he’s a civil servant with a regular income. “There’s nothing to buy any more except Israeli stuff,” he sighs.
Shrinking the inhabitants’ living space
Israel adds commercial cynicism to economic asphyxiation. For the past two years, settler harassment and the active complicity of the army have cut Nablus off from its sustaining hinterland: the fertile land of the surrounding valleys, farmed by market gardeners, which Israel confiscates methodically. Now fresh Palestinian produce appears on the markets only in dribs and drabs. In their place are Israeli fruits and vegetables, at five times the price…boycotted by the population most of the time.
Meat has become scarce and expensive. Not an acute shortage yet, but the fear of one is added to the humiliation and the disgust. “We can’t bear this disaster any longer,” says Bakr Abdulhaq, who runs a ’fake news’ observatory, of which there are many in the region as elsewhere. He was born here and loves his city – “I’m married to Nablus”, he says with sparkling eyes – and he observes that Israel is perfecting a method of managing the occupation which consists of shrinking the inhabitants’ living space.
“I love Nablus because we fought for it. My family comes from the old city, and I was born there. But if we want to get our hope back, we must stop thinking about the future,” Moaz adds. He is employed by an NGO and he is a modest man who chooses his words carefully, trying to describe the misfortune and the confinement he experiences. At nearly forty, Moaz has only been to Jerusalem twice, just 65 km away. He has never been to the Mediterranean, which can be glimpsed in fine weather from the hills above the town, edged by the skyscrapers of Tel Aviv and Netanya.
Real estate measures to speed up the annexation
After two and a half years of genocidal war, Israel’s economy is growing again. Largely stimulated by its military and surveillance industries, the Tel Aviv stock exchange has gained 15 % since January 2026, after a 52 % rise in 2025. In the meantime the proconsul of Palestine, the fascist supremacist Bezalel Smotrich, Finance Minister and Minister Delegate for Defence, is advancing his pawns. Palestine is sinking into a crisis brought about by the annexation plans that are gradually taking shape while the “international community” looks on impassively.
The prospect of a second Nakba is on everyone’s mind and terrifies all the inhabitants of Nablus.