‘They destroyed the future’: Palestinian anger at rise in Israeli demolitions in East Jerusalem

They destroyed the future – The roar of a demolition echoes beneath the ancient walls of Jerusalem’s Old City, where a towering Israeli excavator rips through the foundations of a Palestinian home. From a nearby hill, I witness the destruction unfold, a stark symbol of a growing crisis in the eastern half of the city. Since late 2023, at least 59 residences in the al-Bustan area of Silwan have been razed, a number that has surged amid shifting global focus on conflicts in Gaza, Iran, and Lebanon. For Palestinians in this region, the relentless pace of displacement has sparked deep frustration, as they face the loss of land, heritage, and hope for a stable future.

A City of Conflict and Contrasting Claims

Jerusalem, revered by Jews, Christians, and Muslims alike, remains the epicenter of the Israel-Palestinian dispute. Its contested status is underscored by its history: in 1967, Israel seized control of East Jerusalem, including the holy sites, during the Middle East War. The city’s eastern neighborhoods, such as Silwan, have since become battlegrounds for competing narratives. While Israel asserts its sovereignty over the area, most countries do not recognize the annexation, leaving the region in a legal limbo that fuels ongoing tensions.

At the heart of the controversy lies the Jerusalem Municipality’s vision for al-Bustan. Over the past two decades, the local authority has championed plans to transform the area into a biblically themed park known as the King’s Garden, managed by a Jewish settler organization. This initiative has led to the acceleration of demolition orders, enforced by Israeli courts, which have escalated along the narrow streets of Silwan. For residents, the plan represents not just a physical erasure of their homes but a symbolic attack on their identity and aspirations.

Resilience and Resistance in the Face of Displacement

Residents like Fayez Awad, 58, describe the emotional devastation of losing their homes. “There is no future. They destroyed the future and everything else,” he says, sitting on the last remaining floor of his property. “We spent our whole lives building this house. This is all we managed to achieve in life. They brought us back to zero again, me and my children.” Awad’s words reflect the despair of a community that has seen decades of efforts to secure their place in the city.

For many, the struggle is not just about land but about survival. Palestinians highlight the difficulty of obtaining construction permits in East Jerusalem, a challenge that has left them increasingly vulnerable. According to the Israeli human rights group Bimkom, in 2025, only 7% of new housing approved in the city went to Palestinians, despite their comprising around 40% of the population. This disparity has forced families to negotiate with the municipality, often at the cost of their homes.

Despite these efforts, progress has been slow. In al-Bustan, half the homes have now been demolished, and residents are left with few options. Some have opted to destroy their own properties using sledgehammers, avoiding the steep fines imposed by the city. “We’re being given warnings that in the coming months they’ll destroy the rest of the houses,” says local activist Fakhri Abu Diab. His home was already torn down, and he now shares a caravan with his wife, living in the shadow of rubble. “Israel is using the geopolitical situation to finish the issue. It’s very difficult and painful, and the international community has left us all alone,” he adds.

Historical Roots and Legal Battles

The conflict in Silwan is deeply tied to historical claims over the land. Israeli law permits settlers to inhabit properties owned by Jews prior to the state’s creation in 1948, a provision that has been weaponized to justify the expansion of settlements. This legal framework has enabled the establishment of over 160 settlements in the West Bank and East Jerusalem, housing 700,000 Jews. Meanwhile, Palestinian families in Batn al-Hawa, another part of Silwan, are now labeled “illegal squatters,” despite having lived there for generations.

The area’s significance is further heightened by its proximity to the al-Aqsa Mosque compound, known as al-Haram al-Sharif to Muslims and the Temple Mount to Jews. For Israelis, this site is central to their plans for expanding settlements and asserting control. “Silwan sits on a very important site called ‘City of David’,” explains Yonatan Mizrahi of the anti-settlement NGO Peace Now. “Part of the plan is to create a touristic area that very much emphasizes the Jewish narrative and belonging to the land.” For Palestinians, the same land is the foundation of their hoped-for capital, a vision that has been repeatedly undermined by Israeli policies.

International Law and the Weight of Inaction

International law designates settlements and the forced transfer of populations from occupied territories as illegal acts. Yet, the current Israeli government has shown little hesitation in pursuing these measures, even as it pledges to “bury” the idea of a Palestinian state. The United Nations reports that approximately 200 Palestinian households—around 900 individuals—are facing eviction cases in Israeli courts, primarily initiated by settlers. These legal battles have left families in limbo, with their futures hanging in the balance.

While the international community has acknowledged the plight of Palestinians in Silwan, its response has been muted. The political climate, dominated by crises elsewhere, has allowed Israel to advance its agenda with minimal scrutiny. “The municipality is waging a war of bulldozers against us,” Abu Diab says, his voice tinged with bitterness. “Every day, they take more of our land, and we are left to fight for what little remains.” The situation has become increasingly dire, with residents forced to choose between relocation or resisting through self-destruction.

For Palestinians, the destruction of al-Bustan is more than a loss of property—it is a calculated strategy to reshape the city’s demographic and cultural landscape. The plan to turn the neighborhood into a Jewish-centric park mirrors broader efforts to dominate East Jerusalem. “This is about control,” says Mizrahi. “They want to erase our presence and replace it with a narrative that serves their vision of the city.” The bulldozers, he argues, are not just tearing down homes but dismantling the very fabric of Palestinian identity in the region.

As the demolitions continue, the residents of Silwan cling to fragments of their past. Awad, who has watched his home crumble, recalls the years it took to build, the memories etched into its walls. “This house was more than a shelter—it was our legacy,” he says. “Now, we are forced to start over, and even that seems impossible.” The struggle for East Jerusalem is not merely a territorial dispute but a fight for sovereignty, dignity, and the right to call the city home. With global attention diverted, the question remains: will the world intervene before the last Palestinian echoes of the city are silenced?

The Road Ahead

As the demolitions intensify, the future of Silwan—and its people—hangs in the balance. The neighborhood’s residents are divided between those who resist and those who accept the inevitable. “We are not giving up,” Abu Diab asserts, despite the looming threat of eviction. “Every stone we save is a step toward our survival.” Yet, the weight of displacement grows heavier with each passing day, as the bulldozers advance and the dream of a Palestinian capital in East Jerusalem seems ever more distant.

For the international community, the challenge lies in reconciling the geopolitical urgency of other conflicts with the slow, deliberate destruction in Jerusalem. As the world watches wars unfold in distant lands, the people of al-Bustan are left to confront the reality of their own struggle. Their story is a reminder that behind the headlines, the battle for Jerusalem continues, with each demolition marking a new chapter in the city’s contested history.