Chased Away by Israeli Settlers, These Palestinians Returned to a Village in Ruins

The ruins of a home in the West Bank village of Khirbet Zanuta, destroyed when residents were driven out by Israeli settlers, Tuesday, Aug. 27, 2024. (AP)
The ruins of a home in the West Bank village of Khirbet Zanuta, destroyed when residents were driven out by Israeli settlers, Tuesday, Aug. 27, 2024. (AP)
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Chased Away by Israeli Settlers, These Palestinians Returned to a Village in Ruins

The ruins of a home in the West Bank village of Khirbet Zanuta, destroyed when residents were driven out by Israeli settlers, Tuesday, Aug. 27, 2024. (AP)
The ruins of a home in the West Bank village of Khirbet Zanuta, destroyed when residents were driven out by Israeli settlers, Tuesday, Aug. 27, 2024. (AP)

An entire Palestinian community fled their tiny West Bank village last fall after repeated threats from Israeli settlers with a history of violence. Then, in a rare endorsement of Palestinian land rights, Israel’s highest court ruled this summer the displaced residents of Khirbet Zanuta were entitled to return under the protection of Israeli forces.

But their homecoming has been bittersweet. In the intervening months, nearly all the houses in the village, a health clinic and a school were destroyed — along with the community’s sense of security in the remote desert land where they have farmed and herded sheep for decades.

Roughly 40% of former residents have so far chosen not to return. The 150 or so that have come back are sleeping outside the ruins of their old homes. They say they are determined to rebuild – and to stay – even as settlers once again try to intimidate them into leaving and a court order prevents them from any new construction.

“There is joy, but there are some drawbacks,” said Fayez Suliman Tel, the head of the village council and one of the first to come back to see the ransacked village – roofs seemingly blown off buildings, walls defaced by graffiti.

“The situation is extremely miserable,” Tel said, “but despite that, we are steadfast and staying in our land, and God willing, this displacement will not be repeated.”

The Israeli military body in charge of civilian affairs in the West Bank said in a statement to The Associated Press it had not received any claims of Israeli vandalism of the village, and that it was taking measures to “ensure security and public order” during the villagers’ return.

“The Palestinians erected a number of structural components illegally at the place, and in that regard enforcement proceedings were undertaken in accordance with law,” the statement said.

The villagers of Khirbet Zanuta had long faced harassment and violence from settlers. But after the Oct. 7 attack on Israel by Hamas that launched the war in Gaza, they said they received explicit death threats from Israelis living in an unauthorized outpost up the hill called Meitarim Farm. The outpost is run by Yinon Levi, who has been sanctioned by the US, UK, EU and Canada for menacing his Palestinian neighbors.

The villagers say they reported the threats and attacks to Israeli police, but said they got little help. Fearing for their lives, at the end of October, they packed up whatever they could carry and left.

Though settler violence had been rising even before the war under the far-right government of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, it has been turbocharged ever since Oct. 7. More than 1,500 Palestinians have been displaced by settler violence since then, according to the United Nations, and very few have returned home.

Khirbet Zanuta stands as a rare example. It is unclear if any other displaced community has been granted a court's permission to return since the start of the war.

Even though residents have legal protection Israel's highest court, they still have to contend with Levi and other young men from the Meitarim Farm outpost trying to intimidate them.

Shepherd Fayez Fares Al Samareh, 57, said he returned to Khirbet Zanuta two weeks ago to find that his house had been bulldozed by settlers. The men of his family have joined him in bringing their flocks back home, he said, but conditions in the village are grave.

“The children have not returned and the women as well. Where will they stay? Under the sun?” he said.

Settler surveillance continues: Al Samareh said that every Friday and Saturday, settlers arrive to the village, photographing residents.

Videos taken by human rights activists and obtained by The Associated Press show settlers roaming around Khirbet Zanuta last month, taking pictures of residents as Israeli police look on.

By displacing small villages, rights groups say West Bank settlers like Levi are able to accumulate vast swaths of land, reshaping the map of the occupied territory that Palestinians hope to include in their homeland as part of any two-state solution.

The plight of Khirbet Zanuta is also an example of the limited effectiveness of international sanctions as a means of reducing settler violence in the West Bank. The US recently targeted Hashomer Yosh, a government-funded group that sends volunteers to work on West Bank farms, both legal and illegal, with sanctions. Hashomer Yosh sent volunteers to Levi’s outpost, a Nov. 13 Facebook post said.

“After all 250 Palestinian residents of Khirbet Zanuta were forced to leave, Hashomer Yosh volunteers fenced off the village to prevent the residents from returning,” a US State Department spokesman, Matthew Miller, said last week.

Neither Hashomer Yosh nor Levi responded to a request for comment on intrusions into the village since residents returned. But Levi claimed in a June interview with AP that the land was his, and admitted to taking part in clearing it of Palestinians, though he denied doing so violently.

“Little by little, you feel when you drive on the roads that everyone is closing in on you,” he said at the time. “They’re building everywhere, wherever they want. So you want to do something about it.”

The legal rights guaranteed to Khirbet Zanuta's residents only go so far. Under the terms of the court ruling that allowed them to return, they are forbidden from building new structures across the roughly 1 square kilometer village. The land, the court ruled, is part of an archaeological zone, so any new structures are at risk of demolition.

Distraught but not deterred, the villagers are repairing badly damaged homes, the health clinic and the EU-funded school — by whom, they do not know for sure.

“We will renovate these buildings so that they are qualified to receive students before winter sets in,” Khaled Doudin, the governor of the Hebron region that includes Khirbet Zanuta, said as he stood in the bulldozed school.

“And after that we will continue to rehabilitate it,” he said, “so that we do not give the occupation the opportunity to demolish it again.”



With Israeli Tanks on the Ground, Lebanese Unable to Bury Dead

Mustafa Ibrahim al-Sayyed, who was displaced from Beit Lif in southern Lebanon saying there was tank fire around when he tried to venture into his home last week after the truce between Israel and Hezbollah, stands next to belongings in Tyre, southern Lebanon November 30, 2024. REUTERS/Aziz Taher
Mustafa Ibrahim al-Sayyed, who was displaced from Beit Lif in southern Lebanon saying there was tank fire around when he tried to venture into his home last week after the truce between Israel and Hezbollah, stands next to belongings in Tyre, southern Lebanon November 30, 2024. REUTERS/Aziz Taher
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With Israeli Tanks on the Ground, Lebanese Unable to Bury Dead

Mustafa Ibrahim al-Sayyed, who was displaced from Beit Lif in southern Lebanon saying there was tank fire around when he tried to venture into his home last week after the truce between Israel and Hezbollah, stands next to belongings in Tyre, southern Lebanon November 30, 2024. REUTERS/Aziz Taher
Mustafa Ibrahim al-Sayyed, who was displaced from Beit Lif in southern Lebanon saying there was tank fire around when he tried to venture into his home last week after the truce between Israel and Hezbollah, stands next to belongings in Tyre, southern Lebanon November 30, 2024. REUTERS/Aziz Taher

When a ceasefire between Israel and Hezbollah came into effect last week, Lebanese hotelier Abbas al-Tannoukhi leapt at the chance to bury a dead relative in their southern hometown of Khiyam, battered for weeks by intense clashes.

Tannoukhi's cousin had been killed in one of the final Israeli airstrikes on Beirut's suburbs before Wednesday's ceasefire, which stipulated an end to fighting so residents on both sides of the border could return home.

But with Israeli troops still deployed in southern Lebanon, Tannoukhi coordinated his movements with Lebanon's army. Last Friday, he and his relatives pulled into the family graveyard in Khiyam, six km (four miles) from the border, with an ambulance carrying his cousin's body.

"We just needed 30 minutes (to bury her)," Tannoukhi, 54, said. "But we were surprised when Israeli tanks encircled us - and that's when the gunfire started."

Tannoukhi fled with his relatives on foot through the brush, wounding his hand as he scrambled between rocks and olive groves to reach safety at a checkpoint operated by Lebanese troops.

Soon afterwards, they tried to reach the graveyard again but said they were fired on a second time. Shaky footage filmed by Tannoukhi features sprays of gunfire.

"We couldn't bury her. We had to leave her body there in the ambulance. But we will try again," he told Reuters.

The ordeal highlights the bitterness and confusion for residents of southern Lebanon who have been unable to return home because Israeli troops are still present on Lebanese territory.

Israel's military has issued orders to residents of 60 southern Lebanese towns not to return home, saying they are prohibited from accessing their hometowns until further notice.

The US-brokered ceasefire deal grants both Lebanon and Israel the right to self-defense, but does not include provisions on a buffer zone or restrictions for residents.

"Why did we go back? Because there's a ceasefire," Tannoukhi said. "It's a halt to hostilities. And it is a natural right for a son of the south to go to his house."

The Israeli military did not immediately respond to requests for comment.

PEACE OF MIND

The ceasefire brought an end to over a year of hostilities between Israel and Lebanese armed group Hezbollah, which began firing rockets at Israeli military targets in 2023 in support of its Palestinian ally Hamas in Gaza.

Israel went on the offensive in September, bombing swathes of Lebanon's south, east and the southern suburbs of Beirut. More than 1.2 million people fled their homes.

After the 60-day ceasefire came into effect last Wednesday, residents of Beirut's suburbs returned home to vast destruction, and some Lebanese from the south were able to return to homes further away from the border.

But both sides began accusing each other of breaking the deal, with Israel saying suspicious movements in villages along the south constituted violations and Lebanon's army pointing to Israeli tank fire and airstrikes as breaches.

Mustafa Ibrahim al-Sayyed, a father of 12, was hoping to return home to Beit Lif, about two km from the border.

But nearly a week into the ceasefire, he is still living at a displacement shelter near Tyre, a coastal city about 25 km from the border.

He tried to venture home alone last week, but as soon as he arrived, there was tank fire around the town and he received a warning on his phone that his town was in the Israeli military's "no-go" zone.

Sayyed is still stuck in displacement and wants to get home.

"I hope we go back to our town so we can get peace of mind," he said.