For Palestinians, Ramadan is marred by conflict and loss

The war in Gaza has cast a pall over the Islamic holy month of Ramadan, a time of fasting and reflection, charity and community.

For Palestinians in the West Bank and East Jerusalem, the occasion is always bittersweet — marked by moments of joy and constant reminders of the Israeli occupation that shapes their lives.

Celebrations are circumscribed by Israeli restrictions. Families navigate checkpoints to gather for meals. Violence can interrupt prayer or play at any moment.

Since the Oct. 7 Hamas-led attack on Israel, restrictions have been tightened; Israeli military raids have intensified, and settler attacks have driven families from their homes.

The combustible atmosphere sparked concerns that Ramadan — which began on March 10 this year — might bring unrest across Jerusalem and the West Bank. The situation has remained relatively calm so far, even as anguish and loss have darkened the month’s observances.

Jerusalem’s al-Aqsa Mosque compound, and the golden -domed shrine at its center, sit on a site known to Muslims as the Noble Sanctuary and to Jews as the Temple Mount. The site is sacred to both groups. It has been a frequent flashpoint in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

During Ramadan, hundreds of thousands of Palestinians typically gather at the site, from where they believe the Prophet Muhammad ascended to heaven.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu resisted calls from far-right ministers this year to limit al-Aqsa access for Jerusalem residents. But for West Bank Palestinians, only men over 55, women over 50 and children under 10 are allowed to make the trip to pray there.

The first Friday prayer of the fasting month passed peacefully, despite calls from Hamas for Palestinians to “confront” Israeli authorities.

“Oh God, we ask you to save the blood of our brothers in Gaza,” the imam called over the loudspeaker during the midday sermon, the most important of the week.

In the hour before iftar, the post-sunset meal, last-minute shoppers hurried around the streets of Jerusalem’s Old City, picking up bread, juice and qatayef — cream-filled folded pancakes — to serve for dessert.

But the scene was relatively muted compared with most years, vendors said. The owner of a tea shop estimated that foot traffic was down 85% this Ramadan — largely because of tightened Israeli restrictions on movement.

“We lost business during the coronavirus,” he said. “Now we lose in wartime.”