His father had just been buried. Then West Bank settlers forced him to dig up the body
His father had just been buried. Then West Bank settlers forced him to dig up the body
His father had just been buried – It was a moment of quiet mourning when Mohammed Asasa returned to his family’s home in the West Bank village of Asasa, near Jenin. His father, Hussein, had been laid to rest just hours earlier, his 80-year-old body placed in a modest plot within the village graveyard. The burial followed Islamic tradition, honoring a man who had once been a respected figure in the community as a livestock trader and father of ten children. But the peace was short-lived. Within minutes of the funeral, a group of children burst into the house, their voices trembling with urgency: “The settlers are digging up the grave!”
Mohammed, the family’s patriarch, had anticipated no trouble. Before the funeral, he had secured permission from a nearby Israeli military base to ensure the ceremony could proceed without interruption. Yet, less than half an hour later, he found himself at the edge of the cemetery, his brothers by his side, watching as Jewish settlers—some armed—began dismantling the freshly dug grave. The settlers were from a newly re-established settlement called Sa-Nur, perched atop the hill that bordered the burial site. The family’s grief was abruptly turned into a confrontation as the settlers threatened to unearth Hussein’s remains.
“They were on the point of reaching the body,” Mohammed recalled in a tense voice. “I’m sure they were about to remove it, so we had to make a decision there and then.” The settlers, equipped with heavy hand tools, had already broken through the last slab covering the grave, their actions driven by a claim that the burial site was too close to their settlement. Mobile phone footage captured the family scrambling to retrieve their father’s remains, compelled by the settlers’ ultimatum: “Either you exhume the body or we’ll do it.”
“They think they own the whole area,” said a guest at the mourning tent, their tone laced with frustration. “Now that they’ve moved back in, no one feels safe anymore.”
The Israeli army later intervened, seizing the settlers’ digging tools to prevent further escalation. However, the family accused soldiers of failing to act decisively, as settlers forced them to disinter Hussein’s remains under the settlers’ watchful eyes. In a statement to the BBC, the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) defended their actions, asserting that they “condemn any attempt to act in a manner that harms public order, the rule of law, and the dignity of the living and the deceased.” Despite this, the incident left the Asasa family shaken, their sense of security shattered by the settlers’ aggression.
The UN human rights office called the event “appalling and emblematic of the dehumanisation of Palestinians” in the Occupied Territories. Ajith Sunghay, the local head of the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights, described the situation as one where “no one, dead or alive, is spared from the settlers’ wrath.” For the villagers of Asasa, the episode was a painful reminder of the simmering tensions that have grown since Sa-Nur’s reestablishment. The settlement, located adjacent to an IDF military base, has transformed the surrounding land into a “closed military area,” effectively restricting access for the local residents.
Residents say the area is now under constant surveillance, with settlers frequently patrolling and asserting control over the land. “Even if we coordinate with the army, the settlers are far more threatening,” said another Asasa sibling, as they stood near the cemetery. “They’ve taken over our fields, our groves, and even our graveyard. It’s like they’re claiming ownership of everything.” The olive trees, once a vital source of income for the village, have been uprooted in recent weeks, with settlers accusing the family of encroaching on their territory.
Meanwhile, the broader context of settler-related violence has intensified across the West Bank. According to reports from the New York Times, between the outbreak of the US-Israeli war against Iran and the end of April, 13 Palestinians had been killed in attacks by settlers, hundreds injured, and many displaced from their homes. This surge in violence has been fueled by the Netanyahu government’s policy of expanding settlements and creating new ones, a move critics argue has deepened the conflict and undermined Palestinian rights.
For the Asasa family, the incident was not just a personal tragedy but a symbol of a larger struggle. Their father’s burial, once a celebration of life and faith, had been turned into a demonstration of power. The settlers’ demand to dig up the grave reflected a broader pattern of territorial claims, where Palestinian land is increasingly viewed as a resource to be controlled or seized. “They’re not just taking our land,” said one villager. “They’re taking our dignity.”
Despite the IDF’s efforts to mediate, the settlers’ actions have sparked fear among the local population. Many now live under the shadow of potential conflict, unsure when the next confrontation will arise. The villagers say the settlement’s presence has altered the rhythm of daily life, with every movement requiring vigilance. “We used to feel at home here,” said a resident. “Now, even the cemetery is a place of tension.”
The incident at Sa-Nur has drawn international attention, highlighting the ongoing challenges faced by Palestinians in the West Bank. While the IDF maintains that it acts to maintain order, the family’s experience underscores the reality of settlers’ dominance in the region. As the sun set over the village, the Asasa brothers carried their father’s shrouded body away from the cemetery, their steps heavy with loss but resolute in their determination to protect their heritage. For them, the story of Hussein’s burial is more than a moment in time—it is a testament to the resilience of a people fighting to hold onto their land, their faith, and their identity in the face of relentless pressure.
Local leaders and activists have called for greater accountability, emphasizing that the situation in Asasa is part of a larger crisis. “This isn’t an isolated event,” said one community representative. “It’s a reflection of the systemic displacement and intimidation we face.” As the conflict continues, the Asasa family’s ordeal serves as a stark reminder of the human cost of settler expansion, where even the most sacred moments of life are disrupted by the encroachment of a foreign presence.