‘The settlers brought the violence’: the ethnic cleansing of a West Bank village
Five decades in the south Jordan valley were ending in a day, and Mahmoud Eshaq struggled to hold back his tears. The 55-year-old had not cried since he was a boy, but as he dismantled the family home and prepared to flee the village where his whole life had played out, he was overwhelmed by grief. While Eshaq’s children loaded mattresses, a fridge, sacks of flour and suitcases of clothes into a truck, masked soldiers escorted a teenage Israeli shepherd down the main village road, where he posed for photos on his donkey, flashing a V sign. The ethnic cleansing of Ras ‘Ein al ‘Auja was underway, and the men and boys who made life untenable for Palestinians here had come to celebrate.
Eshaq’s home, a community of about 135 families, was the largest and most established of the Bedouin villages dotted on hillsides in this part of the Jordan valley. By the start of this year, it was also the only one left. A campaign of intensifying settler violence – arson, mass theft, beatings, intimidation and destruction of property – forced out village after village until their last remaining neighbours, in nearby Mu’arrajat, fled in July. Israeli settlers now have full control of more than 250 sq km (100 sq miles) of land in this part of the occupied West Bank, where a decade ago only Bedouin herds grazed, said Dror Etkes, founder of settlement monitoring group Kerem Navot. Palestinians have been forced out of this area, which the international community has earmarked as part of their future state. “We were living here peacefully, but they made us into an enemy. The settlers brought the violence,” Eshaq said. “I haven’t cried my whole life, but this morning I was crying. This is a terrible day for us.” He grew up gazing across the Jordan river at mountains rising sharply toward white hilltop towns, and splashing in the wadi where his children and grandchildren later played. At night the clear desert skies are crowded with stars. The bedouin families who live there are descendants of refugees forced out of the Naqab, or Negev, in what is now Israel, in 1948. Poor, isolated and with little political influence even within Palestinian society, they are relatively easy targets for settlers. The project to push them out of their homes began before the war in Gaza but gathered speed and strength as political and media attention focused elsewhere. “When the war started settler leadership understood they had an unprecedented opportunity to step up ethnic cleansing for the area,” Sarit Michaeli, international director of rights group B’Tselem. “The midterm goal is to remove Palestinians from all the open land in the West Bank, and they are doing this with the full participation of the Israeli government. The settler maps make clear that ultimately they want to empty the land of Palestinians.” The campaign of forced displacement here is run from small outposts where teenage boys and a few adults manage flocks of sheep, goats and camels. Taking land by building homes and communities on it is slow and expensive. Taking control of large swathes of dry hills by bringing in animals and using them to intimidate, isolate and bar Palestinians is much more efficient.
The foot soldiers in this war of Israeli expansion are young men, including minors sent to outposts by the state under a programme for at-risk youth. “In recent years, the Jewish shepherds have continued to conquer more and more territory,” read one message in a settler WhatsApp group celebrating the forced displacement of a village last year. “With all due respect to the IDF [Israel Defense Forces], the critical and decisive work of Jewish settlement and the expulsion of the enemy is done by those 15- to 16-year old boys, the ‘Hilltop Youth’.” But if the tools are unsophisticated, the project is anything but. The boys in jeans and slogan T-shirts are part of a state-funded, state-backed project, deploying violence with near total impunity. Settlers attack Palestinians using all terrain vehicles and other equipment handed out at public ceremonies by politicians including the far-right finance minister, Bezalel Smotrich, himself a settler. Security forces in the occupied West Bank have resources and time to cull hundreds of crocodiles on a rogue farm, but not to protect Palestinians. In Ras ‘Ein al ‘Auja, security forces regularly arrest Israeli peace activists and Palestinians, but either ignore settler violence in the area, or support it. Last year when a court ordered the army to coordinate the return of Palestinians driven out of neighbouring Mu’arrajat, the soldiers only stayed a few hours. When they left settlers descended, driving residents out again.
In the two years since October 2023, Israeli soldiers and settlers have killed over 1,000 Palestinians across the occupied West Bank, one in five of them children. No one has been tried or convicted for any of these deaths. Last year, settlers beat an American citizen to death, prompting US senators to warn there was no accountability for Palestinian lives, and shot a prominent activist on camera. The Israeli military recorded a 25% increase in settler violence last year, Haaretz reported, much of it attributed to larger and better organised groups getting support from politicians and well-known activists. Tipping point In the new year, violence reached a tipping point for some families in Ras ‘Ein al ‘Auja, after settlers cut several houses off by ploughing up a dirt track and established a makeshift outpost inside the village. They roamed between houses at night severing electricity cables, emptying water tanks and pushing into rooms filled with sleeping women and children. Last Thursday, 26 families, more than 120 people, decided the risk of staying outweighed the pain and cost of leaving. Most lived on the edge of the village and their departure left Eshaq’s family effectively on the frontline.
“This week we haven’t eaten and haven’t slept,” he said. It only took a couple of days before he also concluded staying was too dangerous. The children at least were relieved, after the terror of the settler home invasions “They want to go right now, straight away,” said Rawan, 24, holding nine-month old Yacoub, as her four-year-old son Mousa played nearby. Neighbour Mohammed Reshad was packing up as well after a night raid by settlers who stole clothes and mattresses. “They took things from me and my two sisters,” said his nine-year old granddaughter Jana. The truck cost 1,800 shekels (£425) to hire, a small fortune here, and they are still debating where to go. “Is there anyone who will protect me from the settlers? If there is, I will stay,” he said. Each family that packs up leaves those who stay even more vulnerable. Na’ef Ja’alin, a 50-year-old father of 10, is still in his home out of desperation, not hope. “The ones who have left have family who can give them a plot of land. Me and my brothers have no place to go,” he said. “I have no money, and land is very expensive.” Mainstream support
The project to displace Palestinians is being carried out by violent extremists backed by far-right cabinet ministers. But annexation of this area is a long-standing, mainstream project in Israel, backed by politicians across party lines. Yigal Allon, then a cabinet minister from the secular Labor party, laid out an initial plan soon after Israel seized the West Bank in 1967. He wanted Israel to hold on to a strip of land along the Jordan valley to serve as a security buffer. The CIA described the plan as inflammatory and impractical but noted that the government was already putting some elements in place. “Israel unrealistically feels that the Allon plan is a workable solution to the problems of the occupied territories and has implemented some of its features,” a now declassified memo warned. The plan was never officially adopted but has persisted in Israeli political imagination, helped perhaps by the fact that two Israeli roads roughly delineate Allon’s land grab plans. The strip of territory he wanted for Israel – and which includes Ras ‘Ein al ‘Auja – now lies between highway 90 near the Jordanian border and the “Allon Road” that twists and turns along the mountain ridges down the centre of the West Bank. On official maps this highway is labelled with a jumble of route numbers – 458, 508, and 578 – but all Israelis know it as the Allon Road. The hills that slope down to the river Jordan are sparsely populated, semi-desert land, too dry for agriculture but suitable for grazing. Settler herding outposts have proved a particularly efficient instrument for mass dispossession here. Last May, settler leader Elisha Yered celebrated the destruction of another village here as a template for the wider West Bank. “This is what redemption looks like!” he posted on social media after the people of Mughayyir al-Deir fled. “God willing, one day we will force you [Palestinians] to the places you belong, in Iraq and Saudi Arabia.” A map published by a settler news outlet to mark that displacement showed the village within an aspirational Israeli-controlled area covering nearly 400 sq km, an area bigger than Gaza. Across the West Bank, settlers have seized over 18% of the land designated for a future Palestinian state, said Etkes, with very few repercussions. Canada, France, the UK and other European countries imposed sanctions on violent settlers and last year recognised a Palestinian state, but the obliteration of Palestinian communities on the ground only continues to gather speed. “The culprits are so well known, not just the violent settlers but the instigators, the officials who are enabling and funding this forcible transfer,” said Michaeli. “But unfortunately I think we are much further from any sort of international accountability than ever.”