Restrictions on Movement

Figures on comprehensive closure days

1 January 2012, updated 31 May 2021

* Figures provided by the military

 

2021

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
3
April
7
May
3
Total
13

 

2020

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
5
April
0
May
0
June
0
July 0
August 0
Sept. 5
Oct. 4
Nov. 0
Dec. 0
Total
14

 

2019

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
3
April
8
May
2
June
0
July 0
August 0
Sept. 3
Oct. 12
Nov. 0
Dec. 0
Total
28

 

2018

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
1
March
5
April
10
May
2
June
0
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
8
Oct.
1
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
27

 

2017

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
4
April
8
May
2
June
0
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
6
Oct.
12
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
32

 

2016

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
0
April
3
May
2
June
2
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
0
Oct.
9
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
16

 

2015

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
0
April
0
May
0
June
0
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
2
Oct.
0
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
2

 

2014

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
0
April
2
May
3
June
17
July
5
Aug.
0
Sept.
0
Oct.
2
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
29

 

2013

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
2
April
3
May
0
June
0
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
2
Oct.
0
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
7

 

2012

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
2
April
6
May
0
June
0
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
3
Oct.
0
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
11

 

2011

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
5
April
10
May
8
June
0
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
5
Oct.
3
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
31

 

2010

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
4
March
11
April
10
May
0
June
0
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
19
Oct.
0
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
44

 

2009

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
9
Feb.
2
March
4
April
16
May
6
June
0
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
8
Oct.
10
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
55

 

2008

 

Month
 No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
4
Feb.
0
March
8
April
11
May
13
June
2
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
2
Oct.
12
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
52

 

 

2007

 

Month
No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
4
April
13
May
0
June
0
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
11
Oct.
6
Nov.
0
Dec.
0
Total
34

 

2006

 

Month
No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
14
Feb.
0
March
21
April
30
May
7
June
4
July
8
Aug.
20
Sept.
4
Oct.
12
Nov.
2
Dec.
0
Total
122

 

2005

 

Month
No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
3
Feb.
0
March
5
April
8
May
5
June
4
July
19
Aug.
20
Sept.
6
Oct.
31
Nov.
13
Dec.
18
Total
132

 

2004

 

Month
No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
4
Feb.
0
March
14
April
30
May
31
June
16
July
1
Aug.
0
Sept.
14
Oct.
11
Nov.
20
Dec.
22
Total
163

 

 

2003

 

Month
No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
27
Feb.
6
March
19
April
30
May
31
June
22
July
9
Aug.
12
Sept.
16
Oct.
4
Nov.
0
Dec.
2
Total
178

 

 

2002

 

Month
No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
0
Feb.
0
March
5
April
30
May
31
June
4
July
Unknown
Aug.
0
Sept.
6
Oct.
0
Nov.
1
Dec.
0
Total
At least 77

 

2001

Month
No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
21
Feb.
15
March
31
April
16
May
1
June
29
July
31
Aug.
31
Sept.
30
Oct.
31
Nov.
8
Dec.
0
Total
244

 

 

2000

 

Month
No. of comprehensive closure days
Jan.
 0
Feb.
0
March
0
April
0
May
0
June
0
July
0
Aug.
0
Sept.
0
Oct.
26
Nov.
30
Dec.
17
Total
73

 

Suggested items

תמונת אילוסטרציה: חיילים מכניסים עצירים פלסטינים למחנה הצבאי מצדות יהודה בדרום הר חברון, 5.8.22. למצולמים אין קשר לאירוע המדווח. צילום: איתי פייטלסון, 5.8.22

A Routine Founded on Violence

Israeli soldiers detain Palestinians, including a 16-year-old boy, at a checkpoint, mistreat them, and steal their money

On Friday, 18 August 2023, at around 11:30 P.M., cousins Mahmoud (18) and Yihya (16) a-Nawaj’ah arrived at the Meitar checkpoint. They were traveling in a car belonging to a Palestinian citizen of Israel. The two were on their way back from Israel to their home in the community of al-Jawaya, which lies southeast of the town of Yatta in the South Hebron Hills. When they reached the checkpoint, Israeli soldiers had the driver and two passengers get out of the car and conducted body searches on them. The soldiers took their bags, cellphones, and a bracelet and ring Yihya was wearing. They also took 8,000 NIS (~2,100 USD) in cash, money the cousins had earned working and were carrying in their pockets. Next, the soldiers tied the hands of the three individuals behind their backs using plastic bags, covered their eyes with plastic bags, and placed them in a military jeep. When they asked where they were being taken, the soldiers told them they were going to the Beit Yatir checkpoint (a checkpoint near the Mezadot Yehuda military base). Once they arrived at the military base, the three were taken out of the jeep and seated on the ground. Throughout the night and until the following afternoon, the three remained on the ground, handcuffed and blindfolded. Even in the intense heat of the day, the soldiers denied them water, food and access to the bathroom. When they requested to sit in a more shaded area, the soldiers refused. They were also forbidden from contacting their families or a lawyer to inform them of their whereabouts. Later, the three were taken to a room in the military base where the plastic bags around their hands were replaced with zip ties – this time, in front of them – and the bags covering their eyes were replaced with cloth blindfolds. They were interrogated in Arabic and asked for their names, ages, how they entered Israel and what they were doing there. From there, they were taken to another military facility, where fingerprints were taken from all three while they remained handcuffed and blindfolded. The soldiers then separated the driver from Mahmoud and Yihya and later released him. Mahmoud and Yihya were put in a car and sat there for about half an hour. Then, after a short drive to the Beit ‘Einun roundabout on Route 60, which sits north of Hebron, the soldiers took them out of the car and told them that they were being released. Only after the two pleaded did the soldiers remove the handcuffs and blindfolds. They returned their cellphones and Yihya’s jewelry that had been taken during the arrest. When the cousins asked the soldiers about the money that was taken from them, the soldiers claimed it had been transferred to the police and then left. Mahmoud called his father, who came to pick them up and took them home after more than twenty hours without food or drink. The next day, Mahmoud and Yihya went to the Kiryat Arba police station to demand their money back, but the police officers referred them to the Border Police camp in the settlement of Telem. Upon arriving there, they were told to come back the next day. On 31 August 2023, the two contacted HaMoked: Center for the Defence of the Individual to file a complaint on their behalf with the police demanding their money be returned. B’Tselem field researcher Basel al-‘Adrah collected testimonies from the two cousins. Mahmoud a-Nawaj’ah (18), a resident of a-Jawaya testified: Ever since I finished school, I’ve helped support my family. In June 2023, I started working in the town of ‘Araba, inside the Green Line. I didn’t have a work permit, so I crossed in illegally. After about a month, my 16-year-old cousin Yihya a-Nawaj’ah joined me. On 18 August 2023, we decided to go home and paid a Palestinian citizen of Israel to drive us. At around 11:30 P.M., we reached the Meitar checkpoint. The guard there stopped the car and asked to see IDs. The driver showed them his ID, and I told them I didn’t have mine with me. Yihya said he didn’t have one because he’s sixteen and hasn’t gotten one yet. The guard instructed us to get out of the car and asked the driver to park it in the lot next to the checkpoint. A few soldiers made us move away from the car, and another soldier searched the vehicle with an electronic device. Meanwhile, the soldiers told me to call my parents and ask them to send my ID number or a photo. I tried calling, but no one answered. Yihya, the driver and I got taken into a room at the checkpoint, where our photos were taken, and then our faces were identified. Afterward, we were taken to a small cell, got physically searched, and everything that was on us was taken: our cellphones, our bags with all our clothes, the 5,000 NIS (~1,300 USD) I made in all the months I’d worked, and 3,000 NIS (~780 USD) Yihya had made that was on him. Then our hands were tied behind our backs with plastic bags, and we were blindfolded with plastic bags too. All three of us were put in a black military jeep. I asked where they were taking us, and one of the soldiers said: “Mezadot Yehuda.” After about a ten-minute drive, at around 12:30 A.M., we were taken out of the vehicle and sat on the ground inside a military base. I could feel cars zooming by very close to us. It was really scary, and I was very worried about what would happen, especially since no one in our family knew we’d been detained. I asked the soldiers if I could try calling someone from my family again, but they refused. When we asked for water and food, they refused that too, didn’t give us anything, and ordered us to shut up and not talk to each other, either. We asked how much longer we’d stay on the floor like that, and one of the soldiers said we had a lot more time. We were there all night. The next morning, about an hour and a half after we heard the call to dawn prayer, it got very hot. We couldn’t take the heat of the sun anymore and asked the soldiers to move us somewhere with more shade, but they refused. Around noon, it had become completely unbearable, and we asked them again and again if we could move, but they said no each time. At some point, I managed to take the plastic bag off my eyes, but within seconds, soldiers came over to put it back on and yelled at me that I wasn’t allowed to take it off. We sat on the ground handcuffed and blindfolded for 15 hours straight. Then, the soldiers brought us into a room in the base. They took the plastic off our eyes and covered them again with cloth. They also tied our hands tightly with zip ties – this time in front. They sat us down on chairs. Suddenly, someone I hadn’t seen began talking to us. He said his name was Khaled, and he asked each of us questions in mediocre Arabic. He asked for my name, my age, where I worked and how I entered Israel. He asked Yihya and the driver the same questions. After that, the soldiers put us back in the jeep, drove for about forty minutes, took us out again, and brought us into a room again, where they took our fingerprints while we were still handcuffed and blindfolded. After that, they put me and Yihya in a civilian car. I don’t know where the soldiers took the driver. We waited in the car for about half an hour before it started moving. A while later, we got dropped off and told we could go. They hadn’t taken off our blindfolds or untied our hands. They only did it after we begged them, and then we realized we were at the Beit ‘Einun roundabout. One of the soldiers gave us back our cellphones. We asked about our money, and the soldier said it was with the police, and then the soldiers left. I managed to take a photo of their license plate. That was at about 5:30 or 6:00 P.M. I called my father, and he came to pick us up. We were exhausted. Later, I called the driver, and he told me he had been released and that his friends came to pick him up, but that the soldiers confiscated his car. The next day, Yihya and I went to the police station in Kiryat Arba to get our money back, but they said our case was being dealt with in the Telem base. We went there, and they told us to come back the next day. The following morning, the Kiryat Arba police called me, and the interpreter asked me to tell him what happened, and how much money it was. I told him and said I was planning on going to Telem the next day to pick up my money. He told me they’d be in touch, but that never happened. Yihya a-Nawaj’ah (16), from Yatta, said: I was looking for work over the summer in order to have some pocket money for my last year of high school. My cousin, Mahmoud a-Nawaj’ah, got me a job where he works near ‘Araba in Israel, and I started working there on 15 July 2023. The first day of school was 20 August 2023, and I wanted some time to prepare, so we both left work on 18 August 2023. We left at around 9:30 P.M. with a Palestinian citizen of Israel who drove us for a fee, and at around 11:30 P.M., when we arrived at the Meitar checkpoint, the guard there detained us when he saw Mahmoud and I didn’t have IDs on us. The guy who was driving us showed the guard his ID, and the guard told Mahmoud and me to get out and the driver to park in the lot next to the checkpoint. The two of us got out of the car, and two soldiers led us through the lot. Then three more soldiers came, and one of them searched the car with an electronic device. The soldiers demanded to see IDs again, but we said we didn’t have them. They took the three of us to a room at the checkpoint, took our pictures in there, and then did a body search inside a small booth. They took our cellphones, and from me, they also took a bracelet and ring I was wearing, and the 3,000 NIS (~780 USD) I had made at work. They took Mahmoud’s 5,000 NIS (~1,300 USD), too. Then, the soldiers tied our hands behind our backs and blindfolded us with plastic bags. After that, the soldiers put us in a jeep and after a 10-minute ride, we were taken out and sat on the ground inside a military base. It was scary because I couldn’t see anything, and I didn’t know what the soldiers were planning. I felt cars zooming right next to me. I asked the soldiers to go to the bathroom a few times, but they didn’t let me. They also didn’t give us water or food, and they forbade us from talking to each other. Mahmoud and I asked to call our family or a lawyer, but one of the soldiers kept saying the same word every time: “forbidden.” About an hour and a half after we heard the call to dawn prayer, when the sun was already up, we asked them to move us to the shade, but they refused. Around noon, we couldn’t stand the scorching heat anymore – we had been there for 15 hours straight – but they continued to refuse our request to move to a shadier spot. At some point, they moved all three of us to a room in the base and replaced the plastic blindfold with a cloth one and the plastic bags tying our hands with zip ties; they put them in front this time. One of the soldiers tied my hands really tight, and it hurt. Then, someone who said his name was Khaled asked the three of us some questions in mediocre Arabic. He asked how old we were, where we worked, and how we entered Israel. After that, they took the three of us out of the room and put us back in the jeep. After a forty-minute ride, we were brought into another room where they took our fingerprints – even though our hands were still tied and we still had blindfolds on. They then put just Mahmoud and me in a car, and we waited for about half an hour inside it. After a short ride, the soldiers dropped us off and told us we could go, but they didn’t take off the handcuffs and blindfolds. We asked them to take them off, but one of them said they weren’t allowed. We didn’t understand why he wanted to leave us like that in the middle of the road, so we persisted until, finally, one of them untied our hands and took off our blindfolds. I felt relieved. They also gave us back our phones, and they gave me my bracelet and ring. They didn’t return the money they took from us, and when we asked for it, the soldier told us that the police had it. After that, they drove off, and Mahmoud called his father, who came to pick us up. We were so hungry and tired, and we just wanted to sleep.

5 October 2023

נביל ר'אנם. התמונה באדיבות המשפחה

Open-Fire Policy

Israel resumes ambushes of workers trying to cross known gaps in Separation Barrier; soldiers fatally shoot Nabil Ghanem (53)

Nabil Ghanem (53) lived in Sara, a village west of the city of Nablus. On Sunday, 19 June 2022, at around 10:00 A.M., he tried to cross through one of the gaps in the Separation Barrier near the Qalqiliyah DCO (Eyal) Checkpoint in order to enter Israel, where he worked without a permit, and collect money his employer owed him. As soon as he crossed the barbed wire fence on the eastern side of the barrier, Israeli soldiers who were lying in wait fired several shots at him and at other Palestinian workers who were with him. Ghanem was injured in the torso and was evacuated by soldiers to Meir Hospital in Kfar Saba, Israel, where he died of his wounds a short while later. Israel justified the shooting on the grounds that Ghanem had vandalized the barrier and tried to cross into Israel, and held the body until 23 June 2022. After Ghanem was killed, Israel revoked the work permits of two members of his family. Ghanem is the second Palestinian worker killed by soldiers while trying to cross the Separation Barrier into Israel in the last two months. On 8 May 2022, soldiers killed Mahmoud ‘Aram (27), a resident of Khan Yunis who lived in ‘Aqbat Jaber Refugee Camp in recent years, after, according to the military, he tried to cross the barrier near Far’on. He died of his wounds later that day at Sheba Hospital in Tel Hashomer, Israel. In his case, too, Israel held the body and only gave it back to the family on 11 May 2022. Over the course of four months, from April to July 2022, Israel implemented a lenient open fire policy by the Separation Barrier, permitting live fire at the lower body of Palestinians crossing – or trying to cross – it. The policy change, officially a response to several terrorist attacks by Palestinians who entered Israel via gaps in the barrier, increased the number of Palestinians wounded or killed by live fire in this period. According to media reports, in addition to Ghanem and ‘Aram, Israeli gunfire injured 15 Palestinians in April alone. In comparison, according to UN figures,* one Palestinian was wounded by gunfire near the barrier in the first quarter of 2022. B’Tselem has previously documented periods in which soldiers used live fire against Palestinians crossing or trying to cross through gaps in the Separation Barrier. Israel appears to periodically decide, for its own reasons, whether to allow thousands of Palestinian workers to cross through these gaps or try and stop them. The latter is enforced, among other things, by live fire. As B’Tselem has previously stated, whatever grounds Israel cites, opening live fire against Palestinians seeking to enter Israel through gap in the barrier – almost all of them laborers looking to work in Israel – is unlawful and cannot be justified. The soldiers are not operating on their own initiative, or at the behest of commanders on the ground; they are implementing a declared policy approved by senior officials. It follows, therefore, that no one is held accountable for the injuries and the killings, and that the MPIU investigation launched, according to media reports, after the killing of Ghanem will also result in whitewashing. Y.‘A. (54), a resident of Sara, met Nabil Ghanem and his son at Qalqiliyah Checkpoint and set out with them to find a way to cross the barrier. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb’i on 2 July 2022, he recounted: On Sunday, before dawn, I met Nabil Ghanem and his son Mu’tasem at Qalqiliyah Checkpoint. We sat outside one of the businesses there and waited to cross through one of the gaps in the fence near the checkpoint. We stayed there until the sun rose. Another young man from our village, M.R., joined us, as well as two other young men who I don’t know where they live. One of them said he knew a gap in the fence. We got in a car that drove us there, and asked the driver to wait for us. We noticed soldiers lying in wait near the gap and heard shots. Nabil said it was dangerous and refused to cross there. We went back to the car and drove back to the checkpoint. We talked with fixers who know the gaps and take workers through them. Some people, including Mu’tasem, went and tried to cross through one of the gaps, but after about half an hour, they came back and said there were soldiers and shooting there. Mu’tasem said he wanted to go home because it had been dangerous since the morning. We drank coffee and some of us had breakfast. M.R. suggested we go back to the gap because maybe the soldiers were gone. We went and tried to cross through farmland near the fence, but we heard young guys saying: “Soldiers, soldiers,” so we turned back because we were afraid the soldiers would catch us. Nabil and another young man I don’t know really wanted to go through, and kept walking around the area to find an opening to cross. I heard one of the young guys say there was a way through if anyone wanted. I told them not to go because it was dangerous, but Nabil didn’t listen to me. The young guy trod on the barbed wire fence. He was about 20 meters away from me. M.R. and Nabil and two other young men went over to him. I saw the young guy who was treading on the barbed wire go through and so did Nabil. Then I heard three or four shots, I’m not sure how many. I immediately turned and ran away. While I was running, I heard someone say, “Oh, I’m dying.” I was afraid the soldiers would chase us and catch us or shoot at us. Some young men told me how to get to the main road, and from there I got in a car and went home. On the way home, I saw on social media that one of the workers trying to cross the fence had been injured. I realized it was Nabil. I was shocked. I’ve had coffee with him more times than with my own family. For years, we slept in Israel together for weeks at a time. I later learned he’d been killed. M.R. (21), single, a resident of Sara, cannot obtain a permit to work in Israel as he does not meet the criteria set by Israel. Instead, he enters through gaps in the barrier. In a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb'i on 20 June 2022, M.R. described what happened that morning: At around 10:00 A.M., one of the young men went to the fence and trod on it in order to cross through to the other side. After he got through, he called out to us to cross too. We went towards him. A resident of my village, Nabil Ghanem, was walking ahead of me. He put his foot on the fence, and then I heard four shots. I saw three soldiers hiding in a low place behind the fence, seven to ten meters away from us. I had no choice but to run away. I turned and ran without stopping until I got away. I didn't know what happened to Nabil. Everyone who was with me ran away. I decided to go home. I was very scared by what happened. After about an hour, I called drivers in the area. They told me they’d seen an ambulance and that there was probably a wounded person. I later found out through social media that Nabil had been killed. The next day, I had to go to the fence again. I can't stay without work. My employer owes me money and if I don't go to him, I won't get it. This is our life. We have no other choices. Nabil's son, Mu'tasem Ghanem (23), a plasterer, set out with his father from home before dawn towards the Separation Barrier. They reached the checkpoint at around 5:00 A.M. In a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb'i on 27 June 2022, he recounted: The drivers in the area told us there was a gap in the fence in an area called Abu al-‘Adas. We drove there. There were other workers there trying to enter Israel. When we were 200 meters from the fence, I heard shots but didn't know what was happening exactly. We went back to the car and drove back to the checkpoint. We had breakfast there. My dad had schnitzel and I had falafel. We waited until about 6:30 A.M., and then I went to check other gaps near the checkpoint, but they all had soldiers nearby. I called my dad and told him we couldn't go through. He asked me to come back to him. When I got there, the bus to Qalqiliyah was just passing and my father signaled it to stop and told me to go. I asked him to come with me, but he wanted to stay and try to cross the fence anyway. He wanted to go to his employer to get his salary, so he could give money to my brother Mu'taz (31) and help him buy an apartment. I got on the bus and went back home. At 8:30 A.M., my dad called and asked if I was home. I said I was, and he said he was still waiting to cross. I asked him to come home, and he said he'd cross the fence soon. We hung up and I went back to sleep. I woke up at 11:00 A.M. and called him, but he didn't pick up. His phone was off. I was worried, because he’s only never answered when he’s been arrested. I called M.R., whom I met in the morning by fence, and he told me he’d seen Dad go through the gap in the fence, and then heard gunfire and ran away. He later found out an ambulance had come and he thought the soldiers had arrested my dad. I didn't believe him. I went out of the room and found my mother, my sisters and my brother Mu'taz crying. I asked them what happened, and they said dad had been injured. I told them it didn't make sense. Even an hour later, when news of his death was shared on social media, everyone was crying and I still didn't believe it. I said he’d been arrested and nothing had happened to him. Very quickly, relatives, friends and neighbors started arriving. I started to grasp that he was dead. In addition to our mourning over Dad, Israel refused to hand over his body. The Palestinian DCO told us the body was being held because Dad was a terrorist and wanted to cut the fence. Only on Wednesday evening did the Israeli DCO hand over the body, at Huwarah Checkpoint. Dad wasn't a terrorist. He worked in Israel for 35 years without a permit, and always crossed through the gaps in the fence to support us. He was arrested many times in Israel because he didn't have a work permit. His last arrest was in 2018, when he spent two months in prison. Yet he still returned to work in Israel every time. We have no other choice. There's no work in the West Bank, and whatever there is, is irregular and badly paid. We just want to work and earn a living, like everyone else. * According to the database on the protection of civilians of the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA). Updates: On 1 July 2022, media reports stated that an MPIU investigation had been launched.

4 August 2022

Apartheid

This is apartheid: The Israeli regime promotes and perpetuates Jewish supremacy between the Mediterranean Sea and the Jordan River

Today, B’Tselem published a new position paper that details how the Israeli regime enacts in all the territory it controls (Israeli sovereign territory, East Jerusalem, the West Bank, and the Gaza Strip) an apartheid regime. One organizing principle lies at the base of a wide array of Israeli policies: advancing and perpetuating the supremacy of one group – Jews – over another – Palestinians. In the position paper B’Tselem rejects the perception of Israel as a democracy (inside the Green Line) that simultaneously upholds a temporary military occupation (beyond it). B’Tselem reached the conclusion that the bar for defining the Israeli regime as an apartheid regime has been met after considering the accumulation of policies and laws that Israel devised to entrench its control over Palestinians. The key tool Israel uses to implement the principle of Jewish supremacy is engineering space geographically, demographically and politically. Jews go about their lives in a single, contiguous space where they enjoy full rights and self-determination. In contrast, Palestinians live in a space that is fragmented into several units, each with a different set of rights – given or denied by Israel, but always inferior to the rights accorded to Jews. The Israeli regime pursues this organizing principle in four major areas: Land – Israel works to Judaize the entire area, treating land as a resource chiefly meant to benefit the Jewish population. Since 1948, Israel has taken over 90% of the land within the Green Line and built hundreds of communities for the Jewish population. Since 1967, Israel has also enacted this policy in the West Bank, building more than 280 settlements for some 600,000 Jewish Israeli citizens. Israel has not built a single community for the Palestinian population in the entire area stretching from the Mediterranean Sea and the Jordan River (with the exception of several communities built to concentrate the Bedouin population after dispossessing them of most of their property rights). Citizenship – Jews living anywhere in the world, their children and grandchildren – and their spouses – are entitled to Israeli citizenship. In contrast, Palestinians cannot immigrate to Israeli-controlled areas, even if they, their parents or their grandparents were born and lived there. Israel makes it difficult for Palestinians who live in one of the units it controls to obtain status in another, and has enacted legislation that prohibits granting Palestinians who marry Israelis status within the Green Line. Freedom of movement – Israeli citizens enjoy freedom of movement in the entire area controlled by Israel (with the exception of the Gaza Strip) and may enter and leave the country freely. Palestinian subjects, on the other hand, require a special Israeli-issued permit to travel between the units (and sometimes inside them), and exit abroad also requires Israeli approval. Political participation – Palestinian citizens of Israel may vote and run for office, but leading politicians consistently undermine the legitimacy of Palestinian political representatives. The roughly five million Palestinians who live in the Occupied Territories, including East Jerusalem, cannot participate in the political system that governs their lives and determines their future. They are denied other political rights as well, including freedom of speech and association. In the entire area, control over these aspects of life lies entirely in Israel’s hands – the sole power determining the population registry; land allocation; voter rolls; and the right (or denial thereof) to travel within, enter or exit any part of the area. The Israeli regime has grown increasingly explicit regarding its Jewish supremacist ideology, a process that has seen two major unmasking milestones in recent years. One was the enactment of Basic Law: Israel – the Nation State of the Jewish People, which declares the distinction between Jews and non-Jews fundamental and legitimate, and permits institutional discrimination in land management and development, housing, citizenship, language and culture. The second came in the form of official statements regarding formal annexation of more parts of the West Bank, attesting to Israel’s long-term intentions and debunking claims of “temporary occupation.” B’Tselem stresses that the military occupation has not ended: Palestinians in the West Bank remain its direct subjects, while in the Gaza Strip they live under its effective control, exerted from the outside. At the same time, casting Israel as a “democracy” on one side of the Green Line, while it is “temporarily” occupying millions of people on the other side, is divorced from reality. This depiction ignores the fact that this state of affairs has been in place for over fifty years. It fails to take into consideration the hundreds of thousands of Jewish settlers living east of the Green Line. It glosses over the de-jure annexation of East Jerusalem and the de-facto annexation of the rest of the West Bank. These facts lead to the conclusion that these are not two parallel regimes, but a single one, governing the entire area and all the people living in it. B’Tselem’s Executive Director, Hagai El-Ad: “The fundamental tenets of Israel’s regime, although already implemented for many years, have recently grown more explicit. This happened both with the discussion of de jure annexation after decades of de facto annexation, and with the enactment of the Nation State Basic Law, which took the existing discrimination against Palestinians and turned it into an open constitutional principle. Israel is not a democracy that has a temporary occupation attached to it: it is one regime between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea, and we must look at the full picture and see it for what it is: apartheid. This sobering look at reality need not lead to despair, but quite the opposite. It is a call for change. After all, people created this regime, and people can change it.”

12 January 2021