As incense wafted through the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the solemn chants of priests echoed off its ancient stone walls, the heart of Christendom felt unusually subdued. On Holy Thursday, just days before Easter, Jerusalem’s most sacred Christian space was missing something—its people.
For centuries, Easter in Jerusalem has drawn thousands of Palestinian Christians to commemorate the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. But this year, the crowd outside the Old City’s holy sites was strikingly small. Absent were many of the faithful from nearby Bethlehem, Ramallah and Taybeh—West Bank towns where Christians have long kept Easter traditions alive.
“They are trying to make it unbearable for us,” said Omar Haramy, head of the Jerusalem-based Christian group Sabeel. “People are afraid. Many no longer want to risk coming.”
Since the outbreak of war between Israel and Hamas in October 2023, Israeli authorities have sharply tightened restrictions on Palestinian access to East Jerusalem, where the Holy Sepulchre stands. Permits, once routinely granted during religious holidays, have become rare. Of the 50,000 Christians living in the West Bank, only about 4,000 were granted access this Easter, according to church officials—many of them limited to just one family member per application.
Even those with permits faced roadblocks. A group from Taybeh, a Christian village in the West Bank, said they were denied entry for Palm Sunday despite holding valid documents.
The permits, valid for just one week, don’t allow overnight stays in Jerusalem. That means pilgrims must pass through multiple military checkpoints each day—often enduring hours of scrutiny—to participate in rituals that typically stretch late into the night. Many now stay home.
Among the most painful losses for Palestinian Christians is access to the Holy Fire ceremony on Easter Saturday, a centuries-old rite central to the Orthodox faith. Once a vibrant, packed event, it has increasingly become the target of Israeli security clampdowns.
“We were beaten last year trying to attend,” said Haramy. “They treat us like we are the threat.”
A City Turning Hostile
Tensions in the Old City have grown steadily, driven in part by Israel’s shift to a hard-right government. Since Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu returned to power with ultranationalist allies, acts of religious intolerance towards Christians have surged.
In 2023, the Roman Catholic Patriarch of Jerusalem, Pierbattista Pizzaballa, accused the government of fostering “a cultural and political atmosphere that can justify, or tolerate, actions against Christians.”
Recent data from the Rossing Center for Education and Dialogue, a respected Israeli NGO, recorded a sharp rise in hate incidents—from vandalism and arson attacks on churches to assaults on clergy. In many cases, the perpetrators have been young Jewish men, often linked to settler groups, acting with apparent impunity.
“It’s a campaign to Judaise the Old City,” said John Munayer, the centre’s director of international engagement. “It’s about making it unbearable for Christians who have been here for centuries.”
One such attack made headlines in March when Orthodox Jews were filmed spitting at Christian worshippers. Itamar Ben-Gvir, Israel’s national security minister, brushed it off, calling the act “an old Jewish tradition.”
Netanyahu’s office later said the country remains “committed to safeguarding the sacred right of worship and pilgrimage to holy sites of all faiths.”
But many here say that rings hollow.
Father Nikon Golovko, of the Russian Ecclesiastical Mission in Jerusalem, said hostility has escalated over the past decade. “They spit on us in the street,” he said quietly, after the foot-washing ceremony. “It sends a message that the city belongs only to Jews. It wasn’t always like this.”
Gaza’s Shadow
Easter arrives this year under the cloud of war. More than 51,000 Palestinians have been killed in Gaza since the fighting began, including Christians. On Palm Sunday, an Israeli missile struck Gaza’s only Christian-run hospital. Just two churches remain standing.
Roughly 500 Christians are sheltering in Holy Family Church, too afraid to speak publicly for fear of retaliation.
Even in a season meant to offer hope, the mood across Jerusalem is sombre. Still, many say that staying away is not an option.
Xavier Abu Eid, a political analyst and author, called Easter “a time to resist by remembering who we are.”
“Our presence here is not only spiritual—it is political,” he said. “Keeping our traditions, praying at our holy sites—it has become an act of resistance.”
Abu Eid added, “This generation of Palestinian Christians will decide if we stay. So we stay.”
