In the almost three months since the U.S. and Israel launched air strikes on Iran, the world’s attention has been gripped by that conflict. Bombs and rockets rained down on Iran and Lebanon until a fragile ceasefire was pronounced on April 8, but the outcome of the war is still uncertain, as sporadic bombing continues, negotiations stumble, and “deals” are made and unmade. What will happen next? Regime change for Iran? An ending to its development of highly enriched uranium? Reopening of the Strait of Hormuz? Withdrawal of the U.S. blockade? Or an escalation of the conflict?

Meanwhile what has been happening to the people whose land lies beneath the missiles and drones? My friend Mohammed Sawalha who lives in the city of Nablus on Palestine’s West Bank wonders if they have been forgotten. When Iranian rockets flew toward Israel, major efforts were made to intercept them, but if they veered toward the West Bank there was no interception. Palestinian villages and fields are strewn with debris from the air battles in the sky above them.

Mohammed says their challenges have doubled, even tripled, since the Iran war began. No fuel for heat or gasoline. Difficulty obtaining fresh food. Few medical supplies in local hospitals. Schools shut down. Unemployment exceeding 70%. A new death penalty by hanging for imprisoned Palestinians passed in the Israeli Knesset. Unbridled attacks from Israeli settlers whose rampages are supported by the Israeli army.

In the past the settlers seemed to be crazed religious zealots bent on illegally reclaiming their biblical lands, but now the Israeli government, contrary to international law, fully encourages them. Settlements have become official policy, and in the first four months of 2026 alone, the Israeli government approved 34 more settlements in the West Bank.  

The Oslo agreements from 1993, designating Area C of the West Bank as Israeli-controlled, Area B as shared territory, and Area A as Palestinian, have been discarded. Settlers are actively taking Palestinian farmland in Areas A and B, stealing sheep and cattle, chopping down ancient olive trees, burning homes and cars, and beating or shooting villagers when they resist. Israeli soldiers freely patrol the streets of West Bank towns often threatening civilians. More than a thousand military checkpoints and permanent gates have cut through communities, separating people from their families, increasing a sense of isolation, and making travel extremely difficult.

Many people in western Massachusetts will remember Mohammed Sawalha as the founder and director of the Palestinian House of Friendship (palestinianhouseoffriendship.com) in Nablus. He came here annually for more than 15 years, invited by the American Friends of PHF (AFPHF) including Peter Titelman and me, Tom Weiner, Sherrill Hogen, Lois Barber, and many others. We also visited him and his family on the West Bank. When Mohammed came to Northampton, his western Mass. supporters gathered to eat Palestinian food contributed by Amanouz and Mosaic restaurants. We listened to music played by Michel Moushabeck and the Layaali Arabic music group, while hearing about PHF’s Smiling Faces summer camp, traditional dance and music programs, a Green initiative that taught children to plant vegetables and love their land, democracy-building workshops, and a music studio. The western Mass. community gave generously to these PHF programs even after Covid hit the world, though since Covid the fundraisers have gone online with help from Jewish Voice for Peace.  

As life has become increasingly difficult for people on the West Bank, PHF has distributed “Boxes of Love” to families in Nablus and surrounding villages. The Boxes contain food staples such as flour, rice, beans, and olive oil, as well as warm clothing during the winter, and books and toys for children. The contents of each Box cost about $80, and in the past few months PHF volunteers have distributed more than 800. Ninety percent of the cost of the Boxes has come from the American Friends of PHF. In addition, thanks to two generous donors, PHF was able to buy 300 olive saplings and give them to farmers whose crops had been devastated by settlers. Seventy families have come to Nablus from Gaza to get medical treatment for their children, and PHF offers support to them, as well as educational support to children whose schools are closed. 

I have asked Mohammed what he and his community will do as the war drags on, the vice of occupation grips tighter and life becomes more stressful on the West Bank. Will they leave, searching for new homes where they and their children can thrive? Without hesitating, Mohammed says, “No. The rich may leave, those who have second homes in Jordan or Egypt. But the rest of us will stay. We saw what happened to Palestinians who fled the Israeli military incursions of 1948 and 1967, and we know the sadness of people who become lifelong refugees. We prefer to die in our own lands, in our own homes.”

Katharine Gratwick Baker lives in Northampton and is one of the founders of the American Friends of PHF.