On June 16, Israeli Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich attended a dedication ceremony for the new Israeli settlement of Doran, built on land belonging to Palestinians in Dura, south of Hebron. At the inauguration, he took the opportunity to make a drastic announcement: The 1997 Hebron Protocol had been cancelled.
Signed as part of the Oslo Accords — and just three years after an Israeli-American settler had massacred 29 Palestinians in Hebron’s Ibrahimi Mosque — the protocol effectively divided Hebron into two: H1, constituting 80 percent of the city, where the Israeli army handed over control to the Palestinian Authority; and H2, comprising the Old City and its surrounding neighborhoods, where the Israeli army remained in control.
Crucially, even in H2, the Palestinian-run Hebron Municipality retained limited civil authority over planning, construction permits, and infrastructure development. Yet Smotrich’s decision effectively removes that authority, stripping the municipality of planning jurisdiction — including over the city’s holy sites, most notably the Ibrahimi Mosque — and placing it fully under the control of the Civil Administration, the Israeli military unit that oversees civilian policy in the occupied West Bank.
On the same day as Smotrich’s announcement, in an apparent attempt to contain the diplomatic fallout, Israel’s Foreign Ministry claimed the protocol had not been scrapped in full. In a post on X, the ministry clarified “that contrary to the finance minister’s statements, the Hebron Agreement was not canceled.” The ministry explained that the security cabinet had decided months earlier to assume control over planning and construction in areas linked to Israeli settlers and Jewish sites.
But this move alone will have far-reaching implications for Hebron — some of which are already evident on the ground.
“In the past, whenever Israel planned construction in the southern part of Hebron, we were officially notified and had the opportunity to submit objections — a process that usually took around two years,” said Khaled Al-Qawasmi, Hebron’s deputy mayor and a former minister of local government in the Palestinian Authority. “Recently, however, settlers received approval to add another floor to the religious institute within a very short period and without notifying the municipality.”
Al-Qawasmi was referring to Israeli officials’ approval of a settler dormitory serving students at the Shavei Hevron Yeshiva, which is located in the illegal Beit Romano settlement in the heart of Hebron. Approximately 900 settlers already live inside the Palestinian city, and the dormitory project would add two floors to a commercial building on Al-Shalala Street, the main route Palestinians use to reach Hebron’s Old City.
“[Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin] Netanyahu and Smotrich are effectively taking steps toward the de facto annexation of these areas, as they no longer fall under our jurisdiction,” Al-Qawasmi added.
Demolishing the status quo
For many Palestinians, Israel’s takeover of planning and construction in the heart of Hebron has raised concerns about the future of the Ibrahimi Mosque complex — one of the most prominent religious and historical landmarks in Palestine.
Also known as the Tomb of the Patriarchs, the site is considered holy by Jews, Muslims, and Christians for its association with Abraham, the first Jewish patriarch (known to Muslims as the Prophet Ibrahim), and it possesses unique architectural and cultural significance. Palestinians even secured UNESCO World Heritage status for Hebron’s Old City and the Ibrahimi Mosque, with both placed on the agency’s list of sites in danger.
In June 2023, after a 20-year campaign by Israeli settlers, Israel opened an elevator at the mosque — a provocative move long opposed by Palestinians and completed without the consent of the Hebron Municipality. The recent changes to the Hebron Protocol will allow Israel to take further unilateral actions to change the structure of the holy site, without even the pretense of seeking coordination or approval from local Palestinian authorities.
Indeed, since these changes came into effect, Israeli authorities have already started making structural modifications to the mosque without Palestinian approval, including efforts to increase settlers’ access to the site and solidify Israeli control over the city.
“The occupation has begun altering the Ibrahimi Mosque by constructing a roof over its inner courtyard in an attempt to change its Arab and Islamic character,” Al-Qawasmi said. Israel’s stated justification for the project is to protect settlers and other visitors from the elements, but as Al-Qawasmi notes, “this also violates UNESCO’s designation of the mosque and its surroundings as a World Heritage Site in Danger.”
According to Al-Qawasmi, restrictions on Muslim worshippers have also intensified. “They are no longer allowed to remain in the mosque’s courtyards; they are only permitted to access the designated prayer area, and soldiers frequently check their identity cards,” he explained.
For more than three weeks, since the start of the roof construction, the Israeli army has also prevented the call to prayer from being sounded at the mosque. According to a member of the Waqf who spoke to +972 on condition of anonymity, the army claims this is necessary while the work takes place.
Several Palestinians who have experienced the army’s heightened restrictions told +972 that the ability of worshippers to enter the mosque is largely dependent on the mood of the particular Israeli soldiers at the gate, who decide how many Palestinians to let in each day. The intention, many believe, is to turn people away so frequently that they are eventually discouraged from even trying to enter.
‘This gate has turned life into hell’
On the same day that Smotrich announced the revocation of the Hebron Protocol, Israeli forces installed an iron gate at the entrance to Al-Shalala Street in Hebron’s Old City. Dotted with hundreds of shops, the thoroughfare is one of the main routes used by residents, visitors, and worshippers to reach the Ibrahimi Mosque, an approximately 15-minute walk from the gate.
While vehicles were already prohibited from reaching the mosque itself, the gate — which can be opened and closed at the whim of Israeli soldiers — prevents cars from accessing nearby homes and the market. But for many who live and work here, the gate is far more than a traffic barrier; it has become yet another obstacle in a city already marred by road closures and movement restrictions. In the one square kilometer around the Ibrahimi Mosque alone, Israel has erected over 120 checkpoints and gates.
The presence of Israeli settlers and soldiers in and around the Old City has also led to frequent harassment, violence, and closures, all contributing to a deep sense of insecurity for Palestinians. On Jewish holidays, Israeli soldiers force Palestinian shopkeepers to close their businesses and clear the streets before escorting settlers through the Old City’s alleys. Residents say Israeli settlers frequently provoke Palestinians along the way.
Just two meters from the newly installed gate, Badr Al-Tamimi runs a souvenir shop. He told +972 Magazine that the closure has had devastating consequences for both residents and business owners.
“Closing the Old City with this gate has turned life into hell for those who live and work here,” he explained. “Visitors coming to pray at the Ibrahimi Mosque or to shop now feel that entering the area is like walking into a cage. You may get in, but you cannot leave without being searched, humiliated, delayed, or even arrested. There is a real decline in people coming to the Old City.”
As the West Bank’s most populous governorate, home to approximately one-quarter of the West Bank’s Palestinian population, Hebron serves as a primary commercial hub in Palestine. Its industrial and agricultural sectors — particularly the stone and marble industries — drive this economic activity, as well as tourism due to its religious and historical significance.
However, in the last three years, the city has experienced a noticeable economic downturn due to movement restrictions, road closures, and a concomitant decline in commercial, industrial, and tourism activities. In a recent press conference, Hebron Governor Khaled Dodin said the Israeli army had effectively sealed the city with 106 iron gates, while blocking 16 roads into the area with earth mounds.
As Al-Tamimi spoke, an eerie silence filled the streets, which were unusually empty. Shop owners stood outside their stores talking among themselves, while only a handful of customers could be seen. For him, the Khan Market inside the Old City has now reached a breaking point.
“This used to be one of the Old City’s most important markets, but it has collapsed commercially: Many shop owners open their stores in the morning and close them in the evening without making a single sale,” he said. “Foreign tourist groups stopped coming in recent years, and now local customers are also discouraged by the gate and the settlers’ provocative tours.”
Providing municipal services to residents living inside the closed areas has also become increasingly difficult, Al-Qawasmi explained. “Even routine services such as garbage collection require prior military coordination. Municipal workers often wait at checkpoints while soldiers inspect their IDs, and some are denied entry altogether. The same restrictions apply to electricity and water maintenance crews.”
According to Al-Tamimi, the October 7 attacks and subsequent Israeli genocide in Gaza gave Israel more leeway to dispossess as many Palestinians as possible in Hebron and across the West Bank. “What happened was that the masks came off and its true face was revealed; the occupation’s appetite and plans to seize as much of the area as possible became clear,” he said. “The occupation no longer cares about justifying its actions.”
‘A prelude to something even worse’
For Zulaikha Al-Mohtaseb, a 64-year-old daycare director and community activist who has lived for decades in the area of the Old City now blocked by the gate, the restrictions have added another layer of hardship to everyday life.
“I can no longer take a taxi to my house — I have to walk from the gate carrying my shopping bags by hand,” she told +972. “During Eid, my brothers told me they could not visit because of the gate, so I had to go to them instead.”
Some families from the Old City have been forced to rent homes outside the closed-off areas — especially during Jewish holidays, when gates are shut and settler activity and attacks intensify — so that they can host their relatives and attend social gatherings.
Al-Mohtaseb’s front door opens directly onto Al-Shuhada Street, which runs parallel to Al-Shalala Street and once hosted one of Hebron’s main markets, before Israel closed the street for Palestinians in 1994. One of the Hebron Protocol’s provisions called for reopening Al-Shuhada Street to Palestinian vehicles, but following the Second Intifada Israel closed it off even to Palestinian pedestrians.
“In 2002, Israeli soldiers welded my front door shut, preventing me from using it,” she recalled. “In 2006, I received a permit to cross Al-Shuhada Street, but it lasted only one year. In 2009, after international activists walked through the street from my home, soldiers raided the house, damaged the furniture and welded the door shut again. It has remained closed ever since.”
Since then, Al-Mohtaseb has been forced to enter and leave her home through her neighbors’ house to reach Al-Shalala Street. “I also had to install metal fencing around my balcony after settlers tried to climb into my home and threw stones,” she added.
“But the harassment continues,” she went on. “Recently, while I was watering my flowers, a settler shouted, ‘Do you want us to throw you bananas?’ mocking me as I stood behind the metal fence in my own home.”
Several Palestinians told +972 that the gate installed at the end of Al-Shalala Street and the entrance to Khan Market aims to carry out what they called “silent displacement” from Hebron’s Old City.
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Imad Abu Shamsiya, a resident of the Old City who is an activist and one of the founders of the Human Rights Defenders in Hebron, told +972 that he believes this gate is “a prelude to something even worse — that it will eventually become a permanent checkpoint like the others in the Old City, such as the Tel Rumeida checkpoint. In that case, only residents of the area will be allowed to enter, during specific hours, and only at the soldiers’ discretion.
“This is what pushes people to think about leaving,” he continued. “Their livelihoods are destroyed as their shops are left without customers. In emergencies, you cannot get an ambulance, and you have to carry the patient on foot. Arrests, detentions, beatings, and humiliation affect everyone — women, men, and children alike. These are not temporary measures; they are daily practices.
“There is no sense of security when you live in a closed, isolated area surrounded by heavily armed soldiers and settlers, knowing that their goal is to force you to leave and seize your home, whatever the cost.”
In response to +972’s inquiry, the Israeli army said it was working “to maintain the existing status quo” at the Ibrahimi Mosque “for all communities that pray at the site.” It added that “following the renewed use of specific buildings in Hebron, security adjustments are being implemented in the area in accordance with the security situation.” The army denied any disruption or delay to municipal services and said pedestrian movement near the new gate “continues as usual.”
