Palestinians expelled from West Bank refugee camps left in limbo as Israeli demolitions continue

“They punished ordinary people. This is collective punishment.”

It has been more than nine months since Nehaya al-Jundi, 54, last saw her home in the Nur Shams Palestinian refugee camp in the occupied West Bank, after being forced to evacuate by the Israeli army.

“They punished the infrastructure, the institutions and the people of the countryside.”

In a cafe in nearby Tulkarm, Nehaya talks to the BBC about her family’s terrified flight when Israeli troops stormed the countryside in early February.

For two days, Nehaya watched and listened in horror as military bulldozers bulldozed the area around her home.

“We were under siege inside our house and we couldn’t get out,” he recalls, describing how our electricity, water and Internet connections were cut off.

Finally, on February 9, Nehaya escaped with her husband, Zaydan, 75, and their teenage daughter, Salma.

“When we left, I was surprised by the damage in the area,” he says.

The Israeli military launched “Operation Iron Wall” in late January, sending troops and armor to Nur Shams and two other refugee camps in the northern West Bank to confront Palestinian armed groups it said were responsible for attacks on Israeli soldiers and Jewish settlers.

The operation followed a largely unsuccessful attempt by the Palestinian Authority to quell the activities of local gunmen, many of them affiliated with Hamas or Palestinian Islamic Jihad, in the parts of the West Bank where it governs and controls security.

By the end of February, all three camps had been virtually emptied, in the largest displacement of Palestinians in the West Bank since Israel occupied the territory in the 1967 Six-Day War.

In Jenin, where the largest of the three camps dominates the western side of the city, we heard similar stories of terrified flight and long months of dislocation.

“We were in the house for three days without electricity or water,” says Nidal Abu Nase, 54, a development consultant and freelance book editor.

“The shooting never stopped.”

When the opportunity to escape finally came, Nidal’s family left with little more than their clothes, thinking they would soon return.

“I never made it home to pick up my things,” he says.

Ten months later, Nidal and at least 32,000 residents of the three camps still do not know when they will be allowed to return to their homes.

When that time finally comes, many will discover that they no longer have homes to return to.

Human Rights Watch says Israel has demolished 850 houses and other buildings in the three camps.

Other estimates value the magnitude of the damage much more.

In a report released earlier this week, HRW said Israel’s prolonged forced evacuations and associated destruction “amount to war crimes and crimes against humanity.”

“The Geneva Conventions prohibit the displacement of civilians from occupied territory except temporarily for compelling military reasons or for the security of the population,” HRW said.

The group said Israel’s actions “can also be considered ‘ethnic cleansing’.”

In February, Israel’s Defense Minister Israel Katz said he had ordered the army “to prepare for an extended stay in the camps that have been cleared for next year.”

As the end of the year approaches, there is still no end in sight.

An Israel Defense Forces spokesperson told the BBC that “in order to locate and uproot terrorist infrastructure at its source, the IDF has had to operate over an extended period.”

But already in August, Katz called the operation a success and stated that “there is no terror in the camps and the extent of terrorist alerts in [the West Bank] has fallen by 80%.”

The IDF says it has dismantled bomb-making facilities and other weapons hidden within the three camps.

It is unclear why Operation Iron Wall continues, although demolitions are still being carried out in the fields.

From the pattern of destruction and the Israeli army’s own explanations, it seems clear that the operation has longer-term objectives.

In a statement to the BBC, the IDF said armed groups had been able to exploit the densely built environment of the camps, making it difficult for the army to move freely.

“The IDF is acting to reform and stabilize the area,” the IDF spokesman said. “An inseparable part of this effort is the opening of new access routes into the fields, which requires the demolition of rows of buildings.”

Satellite images of all three camps show the extent of the damage, with narrow, barely visible streets now wide enough for military vehicles, including tanks, to pass through.

The demolitions, the IDF spokesman said, were based “on operational necessity,” and residents were able to submit objections and petitions to Israel’s Supreme Court.

All of those petitions, some of which argued that Israel’s actions violated international humanitarian law, have been rejected.

According to HRW, the Israeli military has been given “broad discretion to invoke grounds of urgent military necessity.”

HRW has called on the Israeli military to stop the forced displacement of Palestinian civilians throughout the Occupied Palestinian Territory and allow all residents of Jenin, Tulkarm and Nur Shams to return to their homes.

For tens of thousands of displaced people, the future remains uncertain.

Nehaya al-Jundi’s family eventually found refuge in a nearby village. But with their lives turned upside down and most of their possessions now out of reach, back at camp, it’s been a difficult year.

“Everything has been difficult since we left,” he says.

The close-knit community of Nur Shams has spread throughout the Tulkarm area. Some live with relatives, others in rental housing.

Many are unemployed and rely on modest donations from the cash-strapped Palestinian Authority and various NGOs.

With schools run by the United Nations agency for Palestinian refugees (UNRWA) also out of service in the camps, education has also been severely affected.

“My children were enrolled in UNRWA schools,” says Nidal Abu Nase, whose family has been living with other relatives since January.

“They went months without going to school.”

Most importantly, the camps’ strong community ties have been fractured.

Residents of the West Bank refugee camps are mostly descendants of Palestinians who fled or were expelled from their homes during the war surrounding the creation of Israel in 1948-49.

“For me, camp is identity and culture,” says Nidal.

“There was love and affection in the camp,” says Nehaya, “but not anymore because we are far from each other.”

Nehaya has not seen her house since February. Despite recent protests, very few residents have been allowed to return to the fields.

The community center where he ran rehabilitation services for the disabled has been converted into an Israeli military barracks.

And reports from youths who managed to sneak into Nur Shams suggest that Nehaya’s house is no longer habitable.

“They told me the house is wide open and completely destroyed.”

Alaa Badarneh additional information