Trying Times in Taybeh – Part One
an article by Leila Waran in the
June 2026 issue of ONE magazine
[NOTE: The peace lamp burning beneath the Icon of the Holy Trinity on the south
side of our church was manufactured by citizens of Taybeh and presented to Father Alexei upon his visit there in 2015]
Palestinian journalist Jirias Azar
believed Taybeh in the West Bank, was a haven – “a quiet rural area with fewer people and more nature; a place
where you can live a calm and pleasant life,” he said.
In 2022, after three years of renovating a house in the ancient Palestinian Christian
village, he and his wife, Celina, settled in, hoping to build a family and
a peaceful life together. Their son, Sharbel, was born the next year.
However, their sense of calm began
to dissipate after 7 October 2023, when Israel launched a full-scale assault on Gaza in response to Hamas attacks on Israel
border communities. As Israel’s war on Gaza intensified, so did Israeli
military violence and settler attacks across the West Bank.
According to the United Nations,
more than 1,800 settler attacks were recorded across the Palestinian West Bank last year.
From January to September 2025, about 60 percent were in the governorates of Nablus, Hebron, and Ramallah, where Taybeh
is situated.
“I started to feel scared,” said Mr. Azar, 36. “It made me
think that maybe life in Taybeh could become like these other places.”
Last summer, the couple’s
sense of safety collapsed. On 28 July, just after 2 AM, they were awakened
by a series of bangs. Mr. Azar saw flames outside their kitchen.
Their car was on fire. They grabbed Sharbel and ran into the dark, their neighbors shouting, “Settlers! There are settlers! They fled to Mr. Azar’s family home in Ramallah.
Their car and everything in it – work equipment, documents, and personal
belongings – had been destroyed. Graffiti in Hebrew on a neighbor’s wall declared revenge for the neighboring
village Al- Mughayyir, which has been the site of ongoing violence between Israeli settlers and Palestinian landowners for
many years.
After his
brother’s car was burned in another attack on their property in Taybeh three months later, the couple put their house
up for sale.
“I
worked for 13 years to buy a car, build a house and obtain equipment for my work, and then I lost everything in less than
a minute.: he said. Mrs. Azar said she never imagined such an incident would
happen to them. “We are still living that night. I still dream about
it,: she said. “I can’t go back to the house. I can’t imagine
living there again.”
The Azars
are part of a quiet exodus reshaping the ancient village of Taybeh. With
a population of about 1,200, it is the West Bank’s last entirely Christian village and one of the oldest continuously
inhabited communities in the Holy Land. In the Gospel of John, Jesus seeks
refuge in Taybeh after the resurrection of Lazarus.
The Rev. Bashar Fawadleh, the priest at Christ the Redeemer Latin (Roman) Catholic
Church in Taybeh, said 15 families – roughly 4 percent of the population – moved out in the past two years. People are leaving because of Israeli occupation, said the priest, who is often
the first to run to the aid of community members who have suffered settler violence.
“People are tired,” he explained.
“People are without rights -rights to live, rights to move, rights to pray, rights to learn, rights to travel.”
As well, since 2023, settler violence
and Israeli military restrictions displaced almost 3.000 Palestinians across the West Bank, including 636 in the first six
month of 2025 alone, the United Nations Office for the Coordination Humanitarian Affairs Ocha reports.
Roland Bassir has run a stone-and-concrete
factory on the edge of Taybeh for 20 years; he once employed 57 people. After the war in Gaza began, settlers known as the Hilltop Youth
blocked his quarry road and grazed cattle through the site daily, until his employees were too frightened to come to
work.
In mid-March,
between 30 and 40 settlers stormed the site, raise Israeli flags, and “prayed Talmudic prayers and rituals,” Father
Fawadleh said. “That means they want to occupy the area. That’s
the end.”
“I
called the Israeli police. They did not respond” Mr. Bassir said.
“We called the Coordination and Liaison Office. After three days, the
army came, stayed for 15 minutes, and left. Then the settlers returned.”
Mr. Bassir’s experience reflects
a documented pattern. According to the Israeli human rights organization
Yesh Din, since 2005 only 3 percent of police investigations into settler violence against Palestinians have resulted in convictions,
and 94 percent of cases close without an indictment .
In mid-May, Mr. Bassir’s
employees had dropped to 15, and often none of them were able to work. “I
have spent 20 years building this place and investing in it, “ he said. “Now I can’t work there.”
