Jerusalem - WAFA - Bilal Ghayth Kiswani
On the morning of March 25, 2026, the "Eyes" mural in the Batn al-Hawa neighborhood of Silwan silently observed the scene. Just about 300 meters from Al-Aqsa Mosque, Israeli occupation forces spread through the narrow alleys of the neighborhood, blocked its entrances, and prevented journalists and residents from entering. Within hours, occupation municipality trucks were emptying Palestinian homes of their contents, while furniture and personal belongings were scattered in the streets under the gaze of their owners.
For the families forced to leave that morning, it was not an ordinary property dispute or a singular judicial decision. It was the final chapter in a battle that lasted for years within Israeli courts, ending with the loss of homes they had lived in for decades.
From the beginning of 2026 until the end of April, the occupation authorities evicted 15 Palestinian families from their homes in Batn al-Hawa neighborhood, after the Israeli Supreme Court rejected appeals filed by 20 families, including the Rajabi and Basbous families.
At the same time, final and enforceable eviction orders included 22 housing units, while 33 other units face preliminary notices and legal proceedings that may end with the same fate. Thus, the number of housing units threatened with eviction in Batn al-Hawa rises to 55 housing units.
What is happening in Batn al-Hawa is not an isolated case. In Silwan alone, about 2,200 Palestinians face the risk of forced displacement, including about 1,500 people in Al-Bustan neighborhood and another 700 in Batn al-Hawa. But these numbers are only part of a larger picture, extending beyond Silwan to reveal a comprehensive system of legal, planning, and economic policies that have been reshaping the demographic landscape of East Jerusalem for decades.
This investigation reveals how evictions, home demolitions, urban planning policies, land registration, and exorbitant taxes intersect to create a new reality in the city, narrowing the space available to Palestinians and strengthening the settlement presence, in a process that experts and human rights organizations describe as a gradual demographic re-engineering of Jerusalem.
Batn al-Hawa... When courts become a tool of uprooting
On that same morning, Palestinian families were not fighting their first battle with the courts. For many years, they moved between the Israeli Magistrates', District, and Supreme Courts, presenting documents and evidence proving their ownership or right to housing, before the battle ended in favor of settlement organizations.
Yaacoub Rajabi, a member of the Batn al-Hawa Defense Committee and one of the homeowners affected by the eviction orders, says that the families spent many years in the Israeli judicial corridors, presenting their documents and evidence, but all these procedures did not prevent the evictions from being carried out.
He adds in a special interview with "WAFA" that what is happening cannot be understood as an ordinary property dispute, but rather as part of a policy aimed at emptying the neighborhood of its Palestinian residents and replacing them with settlers, by using historical narratives dating back more than 150 years to reopen ownership files that have been closed for decades.
Rajabi points out that many families initially did not realize the extent of the legal complexities surrounding these issues, until settlement organizations began using loopholes related to Ottoman land records to re-file old claims in court.
He says that hundreds of families are now threatened with losing their homes as a result of this process, while the pace of resolving cases is accelerating compared to previous years.
For his part, Nidal Rajabi, one of the homeowners affected by the eviction orders, believes that the issue has long since gone beyond the matter of proving ownership or legal rights. He says that the families possess official documents proving their rights, but the balance of power within the courts clearly favors settlement organizations, which makes the outcomes of the cases almost predetermined.
Rajabi recalls the moments following the execution of the eviction order, saying that the family was surprised by the forces entering the house without giving them enough time to remove their belongings, before the property was moved and parts of it were damaged and broken.
After that, the family was charged additional financial costs to retrieve the remaining furniture and stored belongings, in a process he says turned the eviction into a continuous series of pressures even after losing the home itself.
Zuhair Rajabi, also one of the homeowners affected by the eviction orders, goes further, describing what is happening as "theft under legal cover." According to him, the years following 2023 witnessed an unprecedented acceleration in the issuance of eviction orders, so much so that cases that used to take many years were now being decided in just a few months. He asserts that the courts ignored official documents proving Palestinians' purchase of land from Yemeni Jews who left the area decades ago, while accepting settler claims based on older historical narratives.
Raed Basbous, one of the homeowners affected by the eviction orders, says that what is happening today brings back memories of his family's first experience with displacement. The family, forced to leave their home in West Jerusalem during the 1948 Nakba, and later settled in Silwan after purchasing land with official documents during Jordanian rule, now finds itself facing a new displacement.
Basbous says that his family includes children, university students, and individuals who, after the eviction, were forced to disperse among relatives' homes, in the absence of any real housing alternative. He believes that what is happening is not limited to the loss of a home, but extends to deep social and psychological effects that will accompany the family for many years.
In the view of Fakhri Abu Diab, a researcher specializing in Jerusalem affairs, what is happening in Batn al-Hawa cannot be separated from the broader settlement project in Silwan. He says that the area represents an essential part of what is known as the "Holy Basin," a settlement project aimed at encircling the Old City with a continuous settlement belt, through a series of outposts and projects that aim to change the demographic character of the area.
Abu Diab points out that the policy of displacement does not rely solely on direct evictions, but also includes other tools, including home demolitions, refusal of building permits, imposition of fines, economic pressure, and raising real estate prices, making it more difficult for Palestinians to remain in the city. He adds that the neighboring Al-Bustan neighborhood, in turn, faces plans that could lead to the displacement of hundreds of families and the conversion of large parts of its lands into projects and facilities serving settlers.
In light of these developments, the European Union reiterated in its statements regarding the situation in Silwan its opposition to Israeli settlement policies in East Jerusalem, considering that forced evictions, demolitions, and confiscation of homes contradict international law, exacerbate the suffering of Palestinian residents, and increase tension in the city.
But Batn al-Hawa is only the beginning of the story. Behind every eviction operation lies a broader system of planning and urban policies that have made Palestinian expansion in Jerusalem more difficult than ever before, paving the way for one of the largest waves of home demolitions the city has witnessed in the last decade.
A city shrinking for its residents
For the families of Batn al-Hawa, the battle ended with an eviction order. But for thousands of other Palestinians in Jerusalem, the crisis begins years earlier, when they try to build a new home or expand an existing one to accommodate the natural increase in family members.
In a city where the Palestinian population is constantly increasing, the urban space available to them is continuously shrinking. While the scene of demolition or eviction appears most publicly, specialists say that the roots of the problem begin much earlier, within zoning and building maps and urban planning policies that determine where a Palestinian can build and where they cannot.
Munir Nusseibeh, an academic and professor of international law at Al-Quds University, believes that the planning of East Jerusalem represents one of the most prominent tools of discrimination used since the occupation of the city in 1967.
He says that Israeli authorities have seized vast areas of Palestinian land for the establishment of settlements and related infrastructure, while other areas have been declared "green areas" where construction is prohibited, and additional lands have been left without planning that allows for Palestinian urban development.
Nusseibeh points out that the ultimate result of these policies has been to confine Palestinian residential development to only about 13% of East Jerusalem's area, most of which were areas where Palestinians primarily resided before 1967. He adds that this limited space is no longer able to accommodate natural population growth, making it extremely difficult for most Jerusalemite families to obtain new building permits.
This reality has forced thousands of families to build without permits, not as a choice, but as the only available solution to provide housing. However, these homes later become direct targets for demolition orders and exorbitant fines, starting a new cycle of legal and economic pressures.
Nusseibeh emphasizes that the planning policy cannot be separated from the broader settlement project, explaining that recent years have witnessed an intensification of what is known as the policy of "settlement in the hearts," meaning the planting of settlement outposts within crowded Palestinian neighborhoods instead of merely relying on large settlements surrounding the city. He says that this policy aims to create a geographical and demographic reality that makes any future division of Jerusalem extremely difficult.
He cites the neighborhoods of Batn al-Hawa and Sheikh Jarrah as clear examples of this policy, where property laws, the Absentee Property Law, and real estate claims are used to seize Palestinian homes within existing neighborhoods, and convert them into small settlement outposts that enjoy permanent security protection, imposing a new reality within the Palestinian urban fabric.
For his part, Khalil Tafakji, a specialist in settlement affairs, believes that these policies are not the result of isolated decisions, but an extension of an Israeli strategy that began in the early years after the occupation of East Jerusalem.
He says that since the early 1970s, Israeli governments have set clear demographic goals based on reducing the proportion of Palestinians and increasing the Jewish majority in the city. To achieve this, a series of laws and procedures were used, most notably the seizure of land for public interest, planning and building laws, and control over Palestinian lands and properties.
According to Tafakji, the occupation government seized more than 35% of East Jerusalem's area after 1967, and expanded the city's boundaries from about 6.5 square kilometers to about 72 square kilometers, at the expense of the lands of more than 28 Palestinian villages and towns, over large parts of which 15 Israeli settlements were established.
He adds that urban planning policy imposed additional restrictions on Palestinian construction, either by limiting permitted building ratios or through lengthy and costly licensing procedures. He points out that the costs of obtaining building permits in past decades reached tens of thousands of dollars, while today they are much higher, which has made licensing an unattainable option for the majority of the population.
But the effects of these policies do not stop at construction. With the increasing Palestinian population against the limited available land, real estate prices have risen sharply, and the housing crisis has become one of the biggest challenges facing young Jerusalemite families.
Fakhri Abu Diab, a researcher specializing in Jerusalem affairs, says that Jerusalem needs thousands of new housing units annually to meet the needs of its residents, but the restrictions on construction make meeting these needs almost impossible. He adds that many families find themselves forced to move to areas outside the separation wall, or to West Bank cities, in search of more affordable and spacious housing.
For researchers in Jerusalem affairs, this outcome is not a side effect of existing policies, but part of their direct impact. When obtaining a licensed home becomes almost impossible, and when land and apartment prices rise to levels beyond the reach of most residents, moving outside the city transforms from an economic option into a demographic path that gradually changes the face of Jerusalem.
However, the cramped urban space represents only one stage of this system. Homes built without permits later become targets for demolition, and over the years, demolition numbers in East Jerusalem began to rise at an unprecedented rate, revealing another chapter in the reshaping of the city.
The Old City... Continuous displacement and systematic targeting of Palestinian presence
Since the occupation of East Jerusalem in 1967, Israeli occupation authorities have implemented systematic policies aimed at displacing Palestinians and seizing their properties in the Old City and its surroundings, as part of efforts to change the demographic composition and impose a new demographic reality that serves the settlement project. Between June 1967 and April 1968, more than 6,500 Palestinians were forcibly displaced from the Old City to make way for the expansion of the so-called "Jewish Quarter." The early days of the occupation also witnessed the complete demolition of the Moroccan Quarter, where about 1,000 Palestinians were forced to leave their homes overnight, while other estimates indicate that the number of displaced from the quarter reached about 6,000 Palestinians. Despite nearly six decades passing since the occupation of East Jerusalem, displacement policies have not stopped, as estimates by the "Ir Amim" organization indicate that about 100,000 Palestinians still reside in the "Old City Basin," the area most exposed to demolition, eviction, and settlement policies.
The occupation authorities and settlement organizations continue to target Palestinian neighborhoods within the Old City, particularly the Muslim and Christian quarters, through eviction orders and property seizures. In November 2025, four Jerusalemite families in the Aqabat al-Khalidiya area received orders to evacuate their homes in preparation for their demolition on the pretext that they were "unfit for habitation," while residents affirmed that the real goal was to control the neighborhood and establish settlement projects around Al-Aqsa Mosque. These measures escalated in May 2026 with the announcement of a new settlement plan described by the Jerusalem Governorate as a "dangerous colonial escalation targeting the heart of the Old City," which stipulates the eviction of residents from 50 buildings, including homes and shops, in the Bab al-Silsila area adjacent to Al-Aqsa Mosque, and their seizure for the benefit of settlers, in a move considered the largest of its kind within the Old City since its occupation in 1967.
Settlement organizations, primarily "Ateret Cohanim," lead efforts to seize Palestinian properties within the Old City, by purchasing properties through indirect means or controlling them through occupation courts, as part of a strategy aimed at creating settlement continuity within Palestinian neighborhoods. According to published data, the organization had managed to control 21 buildings on Al-Wad Street alone by 2018, while continuing to expand its influence in Muslim and Christian neighborhoods, thereby deepening the policy of forced displacement and threatening the historical Palestinian presence in the heart of Jerusalem.
Jerusalem forced to demolish itself
If the eviction orders in Batn al-Hawa represent the most visible face of the displacement policy, then home demolitions constitute its broader and more continuous face. Far from complex property disputes and courts, thousands of Jerusalemite families face a different battle that often begins with a notice posted on a house wall, and sometimes ends with a bulldozer demolishing the house or its owner demolishing it himself.
The data collected by "Ir Amim" organization, which monitored demolition operations in East Jerusalem for eight consecutive years between 2018 and 2025, reveals a dramatic escalation in the pace of demolitions, especially during the last two years. The total number of buildings demolished during this period exceeded 1,600, ranging from residential homes and commercial shops to various facilities and buildings under construction.
The numbers show a clear upward trend. In 2018, 193 buildings were demolished, and the number rose to 216 buildings in 2019, then decreased to 179 buildings in 2020, before rising again to 204 buildings in 2021. In 2022, 129 buildings were demolished, the lowest number in eight years, but the curve quickly rose again to 200 buildings in 2023, then to 249 buildings in 2024, reaching its peak in 2025 with the demolition of 284 buildings, the highest number recorded during the entire period.
But behind these general figures lies a harsher picture. Residential homes were the primary target of demolition operations. "Ir Amim" data indicates that 2024 was the harshest year for Jerusalemite families, as 181 residential homes were demolished during it, at an average of almost one home every two days. 2025 came in second with 148 residential homes demolished, while 2023 saw 131 homes demolished, and 2021 saw 125 homes demolished.
It's not just inhabited homes. Buildings under construction were also a frequent target of demolition operations. In 2021, 70 buildings under construction were demolished, the highest number in eight years, followed by 2023 with 64 buildings demolished, then 2020 with 62 buildings, and 2024 with 54 buildings. Human rights organizations consider that targeting buildings before their completion reflects a policy that is not limited to removing existing structures, but also aims to prevent any future Palestinian urban expansion within the city.
When a Jerusalemite demolishes his home with his own hands
However, the phenomenon most indicative of the pressures faced by Palestinians in Jerusalem is what is known as "self-demolition." Instead of waiting for bulldozers and paying the demolition costs imposed by the occupation municipality, homeowners are forced to demolish their own homes to avoid additional fines that can reach tens of thousands of shekels.
"Ir Amim" data shows that this phenomenon has become a constant part of the Jerusalem landscape in recent years. In 2021, the highest number of self-demolitions was recorded with 131 cases, preceded by 2020 with 122 cases, then 2024 with 118 cases, and 2025 with 113 cases. In other words, approximately one out of every four buildings demolished in Jerusalem in recent years has been demolished by its owner.
These numbers are not just statistics for the families experiencing them. Every self-demolition means that the homeowner was forced to destroy the place he built with his money and effort, often in front of his family members and children, to avoid greater losses that the authorities might impose on him later.
Silwan... The eye of the storm
When moving from general numbers to the map, Silwan emerges as the most targeted area for demolition in East Jerusalem.
In 2024 alone, 68 buildings were demolished in the town, including 50 residential homes. In 2025, another 66 buildings were demolished, including 56 residential homes, an unprecedented number in the town's history.
Demolition operations did not stop at inhabited homes, as Al-Bustan neighborhood alone witnessed the demolition of 46 buildings between 2023 and 2025, including 37 residential buildings, in the period immediately following the October 2023 war.
As for Jabal al-Mukaber, it has become what the data describes as the "capital of self-demolition" in Jerusalem. In 2020 alone, residents demolished 54 buildings with their own hands, the highest number recorded in any Jerusalem neighborhood during any year of monitoring. Self-demolition of 29 buildings was also recorded in 2023, 25 buildings in 2024, and 18 buildings in 2025. During the same period, the total number of demolished buildings in the neighborhood reached 75 in 2020, 42 in 2023, and 34 in 2024.
In Beit Hanina, which receives less media coverage compared to Silwan, 31 buildings were demolished in 2023, 38 in 2024, and 15 in 2025. More significantly, the neighborhood witnessed the demolition of 24 buildings under construction in 2023, and another 25 buildings in 2024, indicating a clear focus on preventing new urban expansion.
As for Al-Isawiya, 33 buildings were demolished in 2021, then 15 buildings in 2024, rising again to 27 buildings in 2025, while Shuafat witnessed one of the most intense waves of demolition when 43 buildings were demolished in August 2020 alone.
The association's data also indicates an expansion of the targeting scope in recent years, with new neighborhoods and areas entering the demolition map, including Bir Ayyub, Batn al-Hawa, Wadi al-Rababa, and Karam al-Sheikh, areas that were previously considered less exposed to such measures.
From eviction to demolition... a single pattern
For "Ir Amim" organization, what is happening in Silwan, whether in Batn al-Hawa or Al-Bustan neighborhood, cannot be viewed as separate events. The acceleration in eviction orders and the rising pace of demolitions constitute, according to the organization, part of an accelerating policy that directly affects the Palestinian presence in East Jerusalem, and limits the ability of residents to remain in their neighborhoods.
The organization warns that the continuation of current trends could lead, within a few years, to widespread changes in the demographic structure of some Palestinian neighborhoods, especially in the areas surrounding the Old City, where pressure on residents is accompanied by increasing expansion of settlement organizations' activities.
But demolition and eviction alone do not answer the bigger question: How can the ownership of the land itself be transferred? And how do properties that Palestinians have lived in for decades become properties subject to seizure or re-registration?
Here begins another battle, more complex and less visible than bulldozers... the battle of land registration and settlement.
Who owns Jerusalem?
If evictions threaten the resident, and demolition targets the home, then the issue of land settlement and property registration touches upon the most sensitive question: who will own Jerusalem in the future?
Over the past decades, a large part of East Jerusalem's land remained outside the final official registration system, due to historical and legal complexities dating back to the Ottoman era and Jordanian administration, and then to the occupation of the city in 1967. However, recent years have witnessed an acceleration in land settlement projects and property re-registration, a process that at first glance appears administrative and organizational, but has become one of the most controversial issues among Palestinians and legal experts.
Khaled Odeh Allah, an academic and researcher specializing in Jerusalem affairs, believes that what is happening cannot be separated from a broader system of reshaping the city. He says that the reactivation of land registration projects, after decades of freezing, came within what Israeli authorities call "enforcing sovereignty," but in reality, it opens the door to re-examining properties that Palestinians have lived on for decades, and redefining the rights holders in them.
He points out that the danger does not lie in the principle of registration itself, but in the legal environment in which the process takes place. Many Jerusalemite families rely on old documents, or sales and inheritance contracts dating back many decades, while modern registration procedures require detailed evidence and documents that may not be available to everyone, making thousands of dunams vulnerable to disputes or legal objections.
73% of land outside settlement
Data from the Israeli organization "Bimkom" reveals that the ownership picture in East Jerusalem is more complex than it appears.
According to the organization, about 73% of East Jerusalem's land was unsettled until 2018, while 16% of the land was in various stages of settlement, and fully registered and settled land did not exceed 11%. Since the resumption of settlement projects in 2018 until 2025, only about 2,300 dunams have been registered.
These figures mean that the majority of Palestinian lands are still subject to re-examination and registration procedures, which gives this process exceptional importance in determining the future of ownership within the city.
"Bimkom" data also shows that the distribution of ownership in East Jerusalem during the period between 2018 and 2025 was as follows: 46% government and institutional ownership, 36% Israeli neighborhoods and infrastructure, 9% undecided ownership, 4% private Palestinian ownership, 4% private and commercial Jewish ownership, 1% church ownership.
Experts believe that these figures reflect the extent of the transformations that have occurred in the ownership map since the occupation of East Jerusalem, especially in light of the seizure of vast areas of land for settlement projects.
From confiscation to control
Tafakji reiterates that Israel did not rely on a single tool to control land in Jerusalem, but on an accumulated set of laws and procedures.
After the occupation of East Jerusalem in 1967, the city's boundaries were expanded from about 6.5 square kilometers to 72 square kilometers, at the expense of the lands of more than 28 Palestinian villages and towns. In subsequent years, the occupation seized more than 35% of East Jerusalem's area under the pretext of "public interest," before large parts of it were converted into Israeli settlements and infrastructure.
Tafakji points out that control over land did not stop at direct confiscation ("seizure"), but extended to other laws such as the Absentee Property Law, the Jewish Property Law in East Jerusalem, and laws related to inheritance and ownership, all of which were used to reshape the ownership map in the city.
As for academic Munir Nusseibeh, he believes that the use of these legal tools has allowed the conflict in Jerusalem to be transformed from a clear political issue into complex real estate and legal disputes. He says that what appears to the international public as a dispute over ownership documents or land registration, in essence conceals a struggle for sovereignty and existence within the city.
Fragmentation of Palestinian neighborhoods
However, the issue of ownership is not only about who owns the plot of land, but also about how the surrounding urban space is reshaped.
Tafakji says that over the past decades, Israel has pursued a two-pronged policy: first, encircling Palestinian neighborhoods with settlements, and second, penetrating these neighborhoods by establishing settlement outposts within them.
According to him, the result has been the fragmentation of geographical contiguity between Palestinian neighborhoods, turning them into isolated enclaves surrounded by settlements, bypass roads, and Israeli infrastructure. He points out that this pattern is clearly visible in Silwan, Sheikh Jarrah, Beit Safafa, and other neighborhoods that have witnessed increasing settlement expansion in recent years.
He adds that control over land is not only achieved through laws, but also by creating facts on the ground that make the recovery or reorganization of these lands in the future more difficult, if not impossible.
Jerusalem Governorate: This year witnessed unprecedented demolitions and displacements
The Jerusalem Governorate, through its periodic reports, continues to document the policies of forced displacement, population transfer, and land seizure implemented by the occupation authorities in the city, and to monitor their effects on the demographic and urban reality in Jerusalem.
Ma'rouf Al-Rifai, advisor to the Governor of Jerusalem, confirms that the data documented by the Governorate during the first half of 2026 shows an unprecedented escalation in Israeli policies aimed at reshaping the demographic reality in the city, through an integrated system of legal, administrative, economic, and field tools, and not through separate measures or isolated events.
Al-Rifai explains that the Governorate's periodic report documented, during the first six months of 2026, the implementation of (288) demolition and razing operations, which is the highest rate recorded in the last six years, including (198) direct demolitions carried out by the occupation authorities and (66) cases of forced self-demolition where citizens were forced to demolish their homes to avoid exorbitant fines. The report also monitored the issuance of (762) deportation orders, (31) house arrest orders, and (10) travel ban orders, in addition to documenting (89) settlement plans and projects that included thousands of new settlement units, reflecting an escalation in the tools of control over land and population.
He adds that the Jerusalem Governorate does not view these indicators as isolated events, but rather as components of an integrated policy aimed at reducing the Palestinian presence in the city in exchange for expanding the settlement project. Demolition operations coincide with settlement expansion, and deportation orders are accompanied by restrictions on construction and residency, while municipal taxes, especially "Arnona," fines, and licensing policies, are used as economic pressure tools that drain the ability of Jerusalemites to resist and remain. Moreover, what is sometimes presented as "property disputes" cannot be separated from this context, as in many cases they turn into legal tools used to enforce eviction and redistribute control over properties to serve long-term demographic goals.
Regarding land seizure, Al-Rifai points out that the Jerusalem Governorate monitored, during the period from the first quarter of 2025 to mid-2026, the seizure of more than (1,398) dunams of the Governorate's lands, in addition to the approval of seven new settlement plans. It also documented the continued implementation of major settlement projects, most notably the "E1" plan, which threatens about (7,000) Palestinians in (22) communities in the Jerusalem wilderness with forced displacement, in addition to a settlement plan in the Bab al-Silsila area within the Old City that aims to evict (50) buildings, including homes and commercial shops, for the benefit of settlers, in a move described by Al-Rifai as a "dangerous colonial escalation targeting the heart of the Old City."
He noted that the occupation authorities also continue to carry out direct eviction operations, citing the eviction of four Jerusalemite families from the Aqabat al-Khalidiya area in the Old City during November 2025, as part of a systematic policy aimed at controlling the neighborhood and establishing settlement projects around Al-Aqsa Mosque.
Al-Rifai affirmed that reading the results of the first half of 2026 shows that the occupation authorities have moved to a more intensive stage in using their tools, where reliance is no longer limited to legal and administrative procedures, but is now used in parallel with demolition, land seizure, settlement expansion, and economic pressures, thereby imposing new realities on the ground and directly affecting the demographic structure of Jerusalem.
Seizure of 23,000 dunams
"Bimkom" data indicates that about 23,000 dunams of East Jerusalem's land were seized after 1967 for the establishment of settlement neighborhoods and Israeli infrastructure projects.
The organization explains that East Jerusalem has an area of about 72,000 dunams, and that Palestinian neighborhoods within it extended over an area of approximately 49,000 dunams when the city was annexed in 1967, and at that time about 69,000 Palestinians lived there, forming 26% of Jerusalem's population. However, what changed over the following decades was not only the shape of the land, but also the nature of control over it.
With every new registration process, every property claim, and every settlement project, the ownership map within Jerusalem is gradually rewritten. While this process appears legal and administrative on the surface, experts believe it constitutes one of the most important tools used to reshape the city in the long term.
However, control over land alone is not enough to change the demographic reality. Even the Palestinian who retains his home, identity, and ownership finds himself facing another daily battle: the battle for economic survival within a city where the cost of living rises year after year.
And here appears another tool, less noisy than bulldozers and courts, but no less impactful: the "Arnona tax."
Arnona (the tax)... Displacement by bills
In Jerusalem, the battle for survival doesn't always begin with a demolition order or an eviction notice. Sometimes it starts with a tax bill arriving in the mailbox.
For thousands of Palestinians in the city, the "Arnona" tax has, in recent years, transformed from a municipal fee into a growing economic burden, which human rights activists and specialists believe has become part of a broader system that gradually pushes residents to leave the city.
Haitham Khatib, director of the legal unit at "St. Yves" institution, which specializes in defending the rights of Palestinians in East Jerusalem, says that Arnona is no longer just an ordinary municipal tax, but has become one of the most prominent tools of economic pressure on Jerusalemite families.
He points out that Jerusalemites already face a suffocating housing crisis, where apartment rents in some areas reach about 8,000 shekels per month, in addition to high taxes and increasing living costs, at a time when municipal services provided to Palestinian neighborhoods remain much lower than those provided to Jewish neighborhoods.
He says that the natural result of this equation is to push more families to seek housing alternatives outside the city limits, or behind the separation wall, where the cost of living is relatively lower.
From 3,000 to 12,000 shekels
However, the most significant change appeared during 2025 and 2026. According to Khatib, the occupation municipality reclassified a number of Palestinian neighborhoods into the highest tax bracket "A," which led to a sharp increase in Arnona values in some areas.
He points out that some properties that used to pay about 3,000 shekels annually are now required to pay up to 12,000 shekels annually, while the tax value in some areas increased from 45 shekels per square meter to about 120 shekels per square meter. In some cases, these adjustments were applied retroactively, which accumulated significant additional debts on residents.
These changes included areas such as Kafr Aqab and Dahiyat al-Salam, two areas located behind the separation and racial expansion wall, and are considered among the most densely populated Palestinian areas in Jerusalem.
For residents, it's not just about a tax increase, but a sudden doubling of the cost of staying in the city.
Behind the wall... taxes without services
For many years, the occupation municipality refrained from regularly collecting Arnona from some areas located behind the wall, such as Kafr Aqab and Shuafat refugee camp.
However, in recent years, the municipality began to impose collection more broadly, and reclassified these areas into higher tax brackets, despite continued complaints about poor infrastructure and public services there.
Khatib says that the paradox lies in the fact that residents today pay higher taxes for services that are not commensurate with the amount they pay.
At a time when these areas suffer from chronic crises in roads, cleanliness, sanitation, and urban planning, residents find themselves required to pay increasing amounts year after year.
The tax that becomes a security file
But what makes Arnona different from other taxes is its direct link to the issue of residency in Jerusalem. In many cases, a Jerusalemite does not keep Arnona payment receipts merely as financial proof, but because they become a legal document used before the Israeli Ministry of Interior to prove that their "center of life" is still within Jerusalem's boundaries.
This means that receipts, electricity and water bills, and rental contracts become part of the battle to maintain residency.
If a Jerusalemite moves to live outside the city, or fails to prove that their center of life is within its municipal boundaries, they risk losing their right to residency.
Lawyer Midhat Deibeh says that the "center of life" policy has been one of the most influential tools on the demographic reality in Jerusalem over the past decades, leading to the revocation of identities and residencies of thousands of Palestinians who were forced to live outside the city due to economic conditions or the housing crisis.
He adds that a Palestinian who leaves Jerusalem in search of a cheaper home or a less costly life may find themselves years later facing the risk of losing their right to residency, turning a temporary move into a kind of permanent displacement.
Between home and identity
The effects of Arnona do not stop at the tax itself. In case of accumulated debts, the municipality has broad powers that include seizing bank accounts, property, or furniture, and in some cases, procedures may extend to seizing the property itself. High taxes in recent years have also led to the closure of hundreds of shops in the Old City and its surroundings, according to Jerusalemite human rights organizations.
For this reason, Khatib believes that Arnona has become part of an integrated system that uses economic, legal, and planning tools together to reshape the Palestinian presence within Jerusalem.
On the one hand, it raises the cost of staying in the city, and on the other hand, it becomes a condition for proving residency there. Between these two extremes, many Jerusalemites find themselves facing a harsh equation: staying means constantly paying increasing costs, and leaving may mean losing their legal right to the city.
But Arnona is only one tool within a broader system. When evictions, demolitions, urban planning, land registration, and taxes are viewed together, the features of the demographic transformation that Jerusalem has witnessed in recent decades become clearer.
In population figures, ownership maps, and demolitions, the full picture of the demographic engineering that is reshaping the city, house by house, and neighborhood by neighborhood, emerges.
Demographic engineering in numbers
Throughout this investigation, multiple tools appeared, seemingly separate at first glance: evictions in Silwan, home demolitions in Jabal al-Mukaber and Al-Isawiya, land settlement, escalating taxes in Kafr Aqab and Shuafat refugee camp, and increasing complexities in obtaining building permits. But when these files are brought together into a single picture, the features of the demographic transformation that Jerusalem has witnessed in recent decades become clearer.
Data from the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) indicates that since January 2009 until April 28, 2026, the occupation authorities have demolished a total of 2,596 Palestinian structures in East Jerusalem, including homes, agricultural and commercial structures, and various facilities. As a result, 143,982 Palestinians were directly or indirectly affected.
The data also reveals an escalation in the phenomenon of self-demolition, which in recent years has become one of the most prominent manifestations of pressure on residents. Between 2010 and 2025, 762 structures were self-demolished, including 104 structures in 2025 alone.
The transformations are not limited to demolitions, but extend to geography, ownership, and housing. According to "Bimkom" data, East Jerusalem has an area of about 72,000 dunams, and after 1967, about 23,000 dunams were seized for the establishment of settlement neighborhoods and Israeli infrastructure projects. When East Jerusalem was annexed, the number of Palestinians there was approximately 69,000, constituting about 26% of the city's population, residing in about 12,000 housing units.
Today, the city's picture has changed significantly. About 391,400 Palestinians live in Jerusalem, constituting approximately 40% of the population, compared to 246,100 Israelis residing in East Jerusalem and 343,200 Israelis in the western part of the city.
However, the disparity appears more clearly when looking at the housing sector. In 2023, the number of housing units allocated to Israelis in East Jerusalem was 121,700 units, in addition to 62,250 units in West Jerusalem, while the number of Palestinian housing units was only 65,350 units. This means that Palestinians, who constitute about 40% of the city's population, own only about a quarter of the housing units.
When reading these figures alongside the files of eviction, demolition, planning, and taxes, experts believe that what is happening cannot be reduced to property disputes or separate municipal procedures, but constitutes an accumulated process that redefines the relationship between the residents, the land, and the city itself.
Eviction removes a family from its home, demolition prevents its expansion, taxes raise the cost of its survival, land settlement re-examines its ownership, while planning policies narrow the space available to it. Ultimately, these tools collectively produce a demographic reality different from that which existed decades ago.
The city slowly leaving its children
In Batn al-Hawa, where the story of this investigation began, the families evicted from their homes last March morning were not thinking about demographic theories, maps, or population ratios. They were thinking about something much simpler: Where would they sleep tonight?
But behind that individual moment lies the story of an entire city. A city where thousands of structures have been demolished, tens of thousands of dunams of land have been seized, the areas available for Palestinian construction have shrunk, and housing costs and taxes have risen to levels that push many to seek a life outside its borders.
This does not happen through a single decision or a sudden mass displacement. Rather, it happens through a long series of small, cumulative measures; a demolition order here, an eviction order there, a rising tax, a land being re-registered, a building permit not issued, and a neighborhood gradually shrinking for its residents.
While Israeli authorities describe these measures as law enforcement or city management, Palestinians who experience their daily results see a different picture: a city whose features are gradually changing, and where staying becomes more difficult year after year.
For the Rajabi and Basbous families and the residents of Al-Bustan, Kafr Aqab, Jabal al-Mukaber, and Al-Isawiya, demographic engineering does not seem like a political or academic term. It is a tangible reality measured by the number of homes lost, neighborhoods changed, and families forced to leave.
In Jerusalem, demographic change does not happen all at once. It happens house by house. And neighborhood by neighborhood. And year after year.
