Ramadan peace prevails in Jerusalem as all sides keep extremists at bay
| JERUSALEM
Al-Aqsa Mosque, located in a Jerusalem compound revered by both Muslims and Jews, has at times been a flashpoint linked to the ups and downs of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
Yet as war rages in Gaza and violence flares across the West Bank, one of Jerusalem’s most contested holy sites is, for now, a rare oasis of calm. Proof, some say, that close security coordination – and allowing Islamic site officials to manage their own affairs – can facilitate peaceful prayers.
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onEven without war in Gaza, Jerusalem is a flashpoint. At the center is Al-Aqsa Mosque, one of the three holiest sites in Islam. Yet amid cooperation on security, as seen by our reporter, a peace during this holy month of Ramadan has been holding.
Jordanian, Palestinian, and Israeli officials are mindful of what happened last year, when coordinated measures to maintain the peace during the confluence of Ramadan, Passover, and Easter ultimately broke down.
Yet amid warnings this year about potential clashes, and concerns about instigators from Israel’s far right and Hamas, visitors observing the second week of Ramadan at Al-Aqsa are praying, fasting, and celebrating peacefully.
Jerusalemites say this is the way it should be.
“We don’t want trouble; we are not looking for violence. All we want is to practice our religion peacefully without restrictions,” says Umm Hazem, a mother of four, awaiting sunset prayers. “When we are given a chance and are not harassed and attacked by Israeli extremists, we choose to be peaceful.”
As war rages in Gaza and violence flares across the West Bank, one of Jerusalem’s most contested holy sites is, for now, a rare oasis of calm.
Amid warnings from governments and Islamic authorities about potential clashes, and concerns about instigators from Israel’s far right and Hamas, visitors observing the second week of Ramadan at Al-Aqsa Mosque, one of Islam’s three holiest sites, are praying, fasting, and celebrating peacefully.
One could almost describe it as normal. Jerusalemites say this is the way it should be.
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onEven without war in Gaza, Jerusalem is a flashpoint. At the center is Al-Aqsa Mosque, one of the three holiest sites in Islam. Yet amid cooperation on security, as seen by our reporter, a peace during this holy month of Ramadan has been holding.
“We don’t want trouble; we are not looking for violence. All we want is to practice our religion peacefully without restrictions,” says Umm Hazem, a mother of four, as she sat in an Al-Aqsa courtyard, awaiting sunset prayers.
“When we are given a chance and are not harassed and attacked by Israeli extremists, we choose to be peaceful.”
Jordanian, Palestinian, and Israeli officials are mindful of what happened last year, when coordinated measures to maintain the peace during the confluence of Ramadan, Passover, and Easter ultimately broke down, leading to violent clashes and the entry of Israeli security forces into Al-Aqsa, damaging the mosque's interior.
Al-Aqsa, located in a compound revered by Muslims as Haram Sharif, the Noble Sanctuary, and by Jews as the Temple Mount, has at times been a flashpoint linked to the ups and downs of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
Yet the calm, even amid the devastating war in Gaza, is serving as proof that close security coordination – and allowing Islamic site officials to manage their own affairs – can facilitate peaceful prayers.
Worshippers, when unobstructed, simply want to pray, they say.
Hard compromises
Underpinning this Ramadan calm is a security arrangement proposed by Jordan, Jerusalem’s Islamic Waqf authority, and the United States that was coordinated and hashed out with the Israeli police in January, according to Jordanian and Waqf sources.
The coordination is subject to internal compromises on both sides, including, according to Israeli media, a decision by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to suppress inflammatory demands from his hard-right national security minister, Itamar Ben-Gvir. The resulting access to Al-Aqsa falls short of what the Waqf would have preferred.
Restrictions imposed by Israel on Palestinians in the West Bank have meant that for six days of the week, only Muslims in Israel can come to Al-Aqsa this Ramadan. And on Fridays, only a few thousand of those over of the age of 55 are allowed in from the West Bank to pray.
Al-Aqsa, revered by 1 billion Muslims, can be reached for much of this Ramadan by just tens of thousands of Muslims in Israel.
A key to the overall arrangement has been that the Waqf has dramatically increased its staff and security this holy month from 600 to 1,000 people, the most ever, and has enlisted dozens of local volunteers, the Waqf says.
While Palestinian security staff members patrol each corner of the grounds and the entrances to the mosques, shrines, and library, Jerusalem youths, known to their community and the Israeli police, act as plainclothes sentries to prevent provocations from either side.
On a visit to the compound Tuesday, Waqf security staff politely asked worshippers to check their bags, muttering into walkie-talkies as groups filed past.
One guard half-joked that they had direct orders to “break the arm of anyone who tries to throw a stone.”
“We are keeping the peace in order to protect Al-Aqsa,” says a guard, declining to be named. “We are protecting the site from being abused from troublemakers but also from being stormed by far-right settlers and the Israeli police. We don’t want to give them the excuse.”
The results: no political gatherings or rallies this Ramadan; no Hamas chants or flag-waving in Al-Aqsa – as happened during the 2021 Israel-Hamas war; and no one heeding Hamas’ multiple calls for Palestinians to “mobilize” and “march” on Al-Aqsa.
In Friday sermons, imams have warned the faithful against responding to far-right Israeli “extremists” and “terrorists” wishing to goad them into violence.
People are simply coming to pray; many are praying for peace.
“This Ramadan has been calm, despite the intense pressures and tensions. People are able to come, pray, break their fast, and observe the holiday, which is all they want,” says Sheikh Azzam Khatib, director of the Jerusalem Waqf.
“God willing, it will stay calm for all of Ramadan. This is what we are working so hard for. This is what we pray for.”
Four different Israeli security agencies are patrolling the outer compound entrances. Border police with semi-automatics patrolled as if in a war zone.
Under their gaze, thousands of prayergoers entered peacefully.
Monitor reporters witnessed multiple instances in which disputes arose over the entry of certain individuals, in which the Israeli police stopped them and then referred them to Waqf staff just past the door – ceding the matter to the Islamic authority.
Yet the potential for flare-ups still bubbles beneath the surface.
The right-wing Mr. Ben-Gvir is pushing for even more restrictions on Muslim prayergoers, and this week demanded that Jews have access to Al-Aqsa during the final 10 days of Ramadan (beginning this year at the very end of March) – the holiest days of the month.
That would break a precedent under which non-Muslim visitors are only permitted to enter Haram Sharif between early morning and noon Muslim prayers for the first 20 days of Ramadan.
The entrance of far-right Israeli groups accompanied by large security details during the final 10 days – when the compound is at its fullest, night and day – would likely lead to clashes, Waqf officials warn.
“If the extremists attack Al-Aqsa at this time of tensions,” Sheikh Khatib cautions, “there will be blood in Jerusalem.”
Family affair
On Tuesday, the ninth day of Ramadan, amid freezing, wind-driven rain, several hundred prayergoers huddled inside the Qibleh Mosque, the main prayer structure at Al-Aqsa.
The calm offered a rare respite, Jerusalemites said.
As older men sat and read the Quran between prayer times, children rolled, somersaulted, and played tag.
“I no longer let my sons out after 3 p.m.; Jerusalem is no longer safe if you are a Palestinian teenager,” says Mohammed, a taxi driver, while placing bags of food and a pillow on the floor. His three sons sat in another corner with their friends.
“This is the one chance for us to go out as a family, to be ourselves in a safe space,” he says, adding he was “praying for peace and a return to normalcy.”
As sunset neared, hundreds gathered to break the fast like one giant family on the mosque carpet – dates and yogurt placed on long plastic runners.
It was only during the iftar meal that the topic of Gaza came up.
As volunteers handed out takeout containers with shredded shawarma, grilled chicken, and rice, one prayergoer plopped his meal demonstrably in the center of the plastic runner.
“I wish we could give all this to Gaza!” he declared, pointing to the food. The faithful nodded in agreement. “We all wish we could,” said another.
“There is only one thing we can do as Palestinians of Jerusalem,” said a third, his voice wary. “Pray. And remain.”
