Erased Israeli Settlers' Brutal War on Palestinian Communities in the West Bank
Scroll downCredit: Avishay Mohar, B'TselemThese images appear again and again – from the ground, from the air, and on maps: dozens of Palestinian communities wiped off the landscape, while illegal Israeli settler outposts continue to spread across the West Bank.
Since October 7, 2023, this phenomenon has intensified significantly. Unlike the war in Gaza, there is no discussion in Israel about ending this parallel campaign of dispossession. Quite the opposite: Large quantities of weapons have been distributed to settlers, who have since carried out attacks on Palestinian communities while Israeli authorities stand by. Jewish settler violence goes unchecked. So does the illegal construction of new outposts. The Judea and Samaria District Police have been reduced to irrelevance. This state of affairs has allowed for a dramatic transformation on the ground.
AnizanZanuta
A case in point is Khirbet Zanuta, a village in the southern West Bank that was home to around 250 people. In 2021, a new settler outpost, Meitarim Farm, popped up nearby. It didn't take long for threats and attacks to begin. The settlers made their intentions clear: the violence would stop only if the residents left.
For two years, the villagers resisted, holding on to their homes and community. The police offered no help, no protection. By the end of October 2023, just a few weeks after the war broke out, they could no longer hold on and left. The same happened to 35 residents of the nearby community of Anizan.
After their departure, settlers demolished the village structures and fenced off the land. When residents tried to return, the state prevented them from rebuilding their homes.
Like Zanuta, more villages are vanishing from the map – places that once existed and no longer do – while new settler outposts continue to appear. And now, as a result of the war, the settlers have access to growing numbers of drones and off-road vehicles; even the farm outposts are entitled to military protection, and if they request it, they can receive new access roads.
Settlers burn the ruins of Maktal Msallam, October 2023.Credit: Activists from Masafer YattaA Chronicle of Expulsion
- A herding community lives and grazes its flock in open areas surrounding its homes.
- A settler outpost is established nearby
- Harassment of the herding community begins and intensifies:
- Settlers drive residents from grazing lands and repeatedly enter the village; they seize farmland and water resources; over time, the violence escalates, and settlers begin to use the army and police against the local population
- The friction becomes routine; settlers file complaints against the local residents, leading to their arrests
- Another illegal outpost is established, this one even closer to the community’s homes
- The community is expelled
Mass displacement
Dozens of communities erased
The blitz began as soon as the war broke out. In just three months, more than 50 herding communities were forced out. Some were full-fledged villages. Others were lone families living on their own.
Data: Kerem NavotSince then, Palestinians were expelled from 30 additional locations in the West Bank. Often, the pattern was similar: Settlers, sometimes in army uniforms, went from one small community to the next, threatening residents: If you stay, you'll be harassed, your animals stolen, your property destroyed, you'll be beaten. The army and police were aware, and did nothing. In some cases, the Judea and Samaria District Police dismissed reports of violence as "false complaints."
Tactics of expulsion
Shortcut to expanding outposts
As of early 2023, around 180 outposts existed across the West Bank. During the Gaza war, with support from the Netanyahu-Smotrich government, these outposts gained significant state backing, both political and financial. The Ministry of Settlements and National Missions, for example, supplied settlers with drones and off-road vehicles. In some cases, reservists, sometimes recruited by settlers, were deployed to guard the farm outposts.
Settlers in Zanuta, August of last year. Credit: Evyatar RubinSince then, around 120 additional outposts have been established. The settlers there serve as the "advance force" in the displacement of Palestinian communities. They harass herding communities, invade their homes, accuse them of stealing livestock, seize their grazing lands, physically assault residents and vandalize their property.
Settlers in Susya, December 2024.Credit: Nasser Nawaj'ah, B'TselemTerritorial control and fortification
From incidents to pattern
Territory de facto controlled by outposts
* According to data from Kerem NavotFollowing the expulsion of communities amid ongoing harassment, new areas come under the control of settlers from illegal outposts – adding to land already held by established settlements and closed military zones. According to Kerem Navot, these areas now comprise over a quarter of Area C. Settlers secure control by building roads, setting up new outposts, and fencing off land, turning these areas into closed zones for Palestinians.
The Ein al-Rashash case
The new neighbors from Malachei Hashalom outpost
Since the 1990s, about 50 people lived in Ein al-Rashash, near its namesake spring, with another 25 in the nearby community of Khirbet Jib'it. In 2015, settlers founded the Malachei Hashalom outpost (now being legalized). Though residents may not have known it then, the countdown had begun. Farm outposts usually have a similar make-up: one nuclear family, a few visiting teens, livestock, a small group of structures, and an access road.
The road and the second outpost
In 2019, a road was built from Malachei Hashalom, extending deep into the area. In 2020, Rashash Farm outpost appeared at its end. Linking outposts creates a "contiguous Jewish zone" that effectively encloses Palestinian communities. Roads are key. During the Gaza war, dozens more were opened. By mid-2024, Peace Now counted 139 new roads – some built by the army citing security needs, others illegally by settlers. This pattern keeps repeating.
Communities vanish, an outpost is born
Harassment of the community began well before October 7, with violent incidents: smashed windows, destroyed solar panels, a torched structure and assaults. Other forms included nighttime sirens and flashlights, ATVs driven into sheep herds, and settlers entering homes. On October 9, 2023, settlers blocked the access road, cutting off water transport. Four days later, residents left. In the following months, Khirbet Jib'it was also abandoned. In 2024, the Gal Yosef outpost was established near the emptied communities, with a new road connecting it to the main highway.
Mughayyir al-Deir
A “textbook” case of expulsion
This is the village of Mughayyir al-Deir. It no longer exists. Its residents have been displaced and are now scattered, with no permanent homes. In many ways, the outcome was foreseeable.
Until 2023, the nearest settlement was Mitzpeh Dani. Since then, two new outposts were established nearby: Ruach Haaretz Farm to the east, and Hanania Farm to the west. Then came a road linking Ruach Haaretz to the village. Finally, a satellite outpost of Ruach Haaretz was established just 100 meters (about 330 feet) from the village homes. Five days after that last outpost was set up, the residents of Mughayyir al-Deir left, with no remaining means to safely stay.
From community to fragmented families
It is hard to escape the stench, or the tiny particles in the air that sting the eyes in the community's new dwelling place. Surrounded by a landfill, a cemetery, an industrial zone and a quarry, "dwelling" may not be the right word, but rather staying for an unknown period of time, trying to rebuild their lives.
Only several months ago, they still had a home: the herding community of Mughayyir al-Deir. "I used to be responsible for the community," says Ibrahim Muhammad al-Malihat, 60. "Today, I'm displaced, a nomad."
Once home to 150 people living on the edge of a wadi east of Ramallah, the community is now gone, fragmented, its members forced to scatter across the West Bank. Families are now on their own or in small clusters, settling wherever they can find refuge.
al-Malihat now lives on the outskirts of Beitunia, a suburb of Ramallah, with his ten children and eight other families. "I found this place, and they're letting us stay here for now," he says. The area is surrounded by buildings and industrial facilities – a stark contrast to the open spaces of their original home, where they had lived for nearly 40 years. At least, he notes, one facility owner provides them with water and electricity. "The children aren't doing well," he says. "It's like being put in a cage."
Mughayyir al-Deir's story is a textbook case of expulsion. Over two years, settler outposts popped up around the village, gradually encroaching on the community. Initially, there were two outposts: Ruach Haaretz to the east and Hanania Farm to the west. A road was carved between the road leading to Ruach Haaretz and the village. In the final stage, another outpost, made up of a sheep pen and a shed canopy, was built just meters from the community's homes.
Five days later, the villagers left. On their way out, settlers attacked some of them so violently that they ended up in the hospital. During the incident, a settler was also wounded by stone-throwing and taken to the hospital.
Before the war in Gaza, the residents of Wadi al-Siq – just across the valley – were still living in their homes. But five days after October 7, they were attacked and forced to flee. Some villagers, along with anti-occupation activists who were present, were detained for hours by settlers and settler-soldiers. They were tied up and severely beaten. Some were stripped, then photographed bound in their underwear. According to testimonies, two were urinated on and had cigarettes put out on their skin; there was even an attempt to sexually assault one of them with a foreign object.
News of the brutal attack spread across the entire region.
"After Wadi al-Siq, some settlers working with the security forces came to us," al-Malihat says. "They told us, 'Leave for ten days and then come back. The settlers are thugs. We can't protect you.'"
The message was clear: Leave, and there would be nothing to return to. So they decided to stay.
As the Gaza war dragged on, armed settlers multiplied around the villagers. One by one, local communities began to leave. "The settlers decided everything for us," says al-Malihat. "They harassed us in our homes, in the pastures. The sheep could no longer graze. People only left the house to go to work. The village became a prison."
For two years, al-Malihat says, the community endured stone-throwing, blockade of the village's main entrance and threats when venturing into their grazing areas. A major concern was the settlers' potential theft of their sheep – a real threat, given that settlers had in the past mixed flocks, then filed police complaints falsely accusing the Bedouins of the theft.
Then, on May 18, a new settler outpost was set up next to the village. The settlers manning the outpost were armed and operated with impunity, confident that Israeli authorities would not intervene. When Haaretz visited that week, settlers were seen walking through the village, attempting to enter yards. A newly carved road connected the old and new outposts. The army and police were fully aware of the situation but refused to intervene. An IDF spokesperson officially stated: "The area in question does not encroach on the land where the Bedouin live."
Realizing they had no protection and nowhere to turn, the community decided to leave. But even that was monitored. Under settlers' watch, they evacuated in stages: first the sheep, then the women and children. The men remained to dismantle structures.
That's when settlers intervened, trying to stop them from continuing. Clashes broke out. Residents, along with an Israeli peace activist, fled toward the steep wadi. According to their accounts, they were pelted with stones and shot at during the escape.
At some point, they realized they had nowhere left to flee. "A settler named Amir shot us between the legs," Omar al-Malihat, 14, recalled. "We were surrounded. They were throwing stones. Then Amir said, 'Come on, I won't hurt you.' So we approached."
According to Omar, once they reached the settlers, they were forced to their knees and beaten. "They hit us on the head, punched, slapped, beat us with batons. They wouldn't let us move. And they stole our phones and money."
The group was eventually evacuated to hospitals. Ibrahim al-Malihat has not returned to his home since. "We left behind pens, metal structures, trees, solar panels," he says. "After the attack, how could we ever go back?"
The accounts of Ibrahim al-Malihat, other villagers, and the Israeli activist who was with them all describe the same experience: sheer terror, a real fear they wouldn't make it out alive. That fear has since given way to grief, and to the painful realization that the life they once knew is gone.
Days later, settlers blocked the road to the village. Some homes still stand; others have been demolished.
A vision of future construction – for Jews only
Alongside the expansion of settlement outposts, the government has used the war in Gaza to push forward plans for the next stages. Essentially: more housing for Jews, more demolitions for Palestinians. The current wave of displacement and dispossession appears to be only a prelude to what's coming next. During this period, an unprecedented number of housing units beyond the Green Line have been approved. Since October 7, 2023, roughly 30,000 housing units have been advanced – some finalized, others pending approval.
Approval of housing units in the West Bank over the years
* Data: Peace NowBut the groundwork was laid earlier, long before the war and October 7. Under the coalition agreements, the defense minister's consent was no longer required during each stage of approving housing units in settlements beyond the Green Line. Later, Minister Bezalel Smotrich took control of the governance structure in the West Bank, and has since gained unprecedented influence over the planning bodies as well.
With global attention focused on Gaza, the West Bank became even more of a no-man's-land. The election of Donald Trump gave the settlement enterprise a further boost. In 2025, more settlement housing plans were approved than in any year since at least 2012 (when the settlement watch organization Peace Now began collecting data) – and likely more than any year prior.
The approved plans are not limited to one region. They span the entire West Bank, including many housing units in remote areas of the West Bank. One of the most controversial is the E1 corridor near Ma'aleh Adumim, which, if developed, would sever the northern West Bank from the south. This will have far-reaching implications for the feasibility of a two-state solution. Long held back due to international pressure, the plan is now closer than ever to being realized.
In 2024 alone, 24,000 dunams (nearly 6,000 acres) were declared state land – more than in any year since the late 1990s. Though "state land" is meant for public use, in practice it serves as a land reserve for settlements and as a means to block Palestinian access to the land.
The IDF Spokesperson responded:
"IDF forces and the Civil Administration operate in Judea and Samaria to prevent terrorism and maintain public order, in accordance with the law and directives from government officials. The IDF supplies weapons to reservist forces, including defense units in local communities, for the purposes of defense and preparedness. The army highly values the contributions of its reservists. Any unauthorized use of military weapons is investigated and addressed based on the specific circumstances."
The spokesperson added: "The Civil Administration works to remove illegal construction in Area C in accordance with the law, subject to operational assessments and approval by the relevant government authorities. The defense establishment is committed to maintaining a stable and functional living environment for all residents of the area."
The police did not provide a response.
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