In Bethlehem, a mood of hopeless resignation
BETHLEHEM, West Bank — A Christmas tree inside the doorway beckoned travelers to the Jacir Palace Hotel, a luxury inn in the West Bank city of Bethlehem.
But with just days to go before Christmas, the management was mulling whether to reopen or remain closed for the holidays, normally one of the busiest periods for the hotel.
Since President Donald Trump’s recognition this month of Jerusalem as Israel’s capital, Palestinians have been clashing intermittently with Israeli forces outside the hotel’s gates. As the clashes have simmered, sporadic and limited in scope, Bethlehem, like the rest of the Palestinian territories, seemed suspended in a kind of limbo. With residents neither basking in seasonal cheer nor raging in the throes of a new intifada, the popular mood in the city was more one of hopeless resignation.
The Jacir Palace sits along a stretch of road that has become a main flash point for protests, only yards from Israel’s 26-foot-tall concrete barrier separating Bethlehem from Jerusalem, the contested holy city.
Recently, the hotel was enjoying a respite as protesters took the day off. But residue of tear gas hung in the air outside, inducing itchy eyes and sneezing. Someone picked up a used stun grenade and placed it on a balustrade.
Most of the hotel’s staff members had been sent home, since there were no guests anyway. One group was scheduled to arrive over the weekend. If there were riots going on at check-in time, said Ahmad al-Manawee, the guest relations manager, Plan B was to bring the lodgers in through a side entrance.
Many Palestinians in Bethlehem described their own leadership as feckless and confrontation with the Israelis as futile.
“It’s been sold,” Muhammad Abu Sabaiyya, 41, said of Jerusalem as he sat idly in his empty car repair shop. “Those who are not going out into the streets know it was all already agreed to with our government.”
Abu Sabaiyya’s cynicism echoed a widespread sentiment as he stared out at the separation wall adorned with graffiti, including a recent addition: an image of Trump wearing a black skullcap.
Yet, despite the dire predictions of major turmoil, and the best efforts of both Fatah and Hamas to mobilize the masses, so far there has been no large-scale, spontaneous outburst of violence in the wake of the president’s declaration.
The response has been more of a part-time simulation of an uprising, almost by appointment. A few thousand protesters have turned out at familiar friction points in the West Bank or along the Gaza border on the designated “Days of Rage” called for by the political factions. Other days, hardly anybody has shown up.
“It’s not that people don’t want to stand up for their rights,” said Samar Salah, 25, a Muslim student from a nearby village who had come to Bethlehem with her friends to see the Christmas decorations. “But there are never any results.”
Many Palestinians now view the confrontations with Israeli soldiers as pointless since they consider the Jerusalem declaration unlikely to be reversed. Those lucky enough to have decent jobs do not want to jeopardize their livelihoods. Others struggling to make ends meet seem to have more immediate concerns than throwing stones at Israeli soldiers.