Last All-Christian Town in West Bank Under Siege by Israeli Settlers

Taybeh, occupied West Bank – Beneath a painting of Jesus and his disciples, Sandra Basir brings out two fire extinguishers she and her husband keep to protect their home. They hold onto them because last time settlers burned a neighbor's car in front of their house, no one came to help.

"Civil Defense – when do they show up? After everything is over," says Roland Basir, Sandra's husband.

The couple's nightly routine in this all-Christian Palestinian town now mirrors that of many rural Palestinian communities besieged by settler attacks and night raids. Sandra checks the doors multiple times before bed. They keep a dog outside to warn of intruders. Sandra remains half-awake, listening for anyone who might come for their four young children as they sleep.

Their seven-year-old son has stopped playing outside, and for months, he has told his father not to go to work, fearing he won't come back. "That's our life now," Sandra says, tears welling in her eyes. "A child that age should only be playing."

Quarry and factory confiscated

For over 20 years, Roland built a quarry and concrete block factory on the edge of town, investing about $5 million. After providing jobs for 40 local Palestinians, he watched his life's work be taken by settlers, including armed adults and teenagers.

Over the past three years, he and his workers have been repeatedly chased off by gunfire, and heavy machinery has been torched. The most brazen attack came in March when about 30–40 settlers stormed the quarry. Video and photos show them raising Israeli flags and praying on the land. Before leaving, they smashed offices, broke electrical panels, and tore cameras off the walls.

Roland documented everything and filed complaints with the liaison office, police, and every agency he could reach, but to no avail. Settlers returned the next day and continued their attacks. He says the stone extracted from his land is now registered under a settler's name and sold onward. Last week, he stopped operations, effectively abandoning the quarry.

"They've taken the quarry, the factory, the land. What's left for them to take? My children? My home?" Roland asks.

A once-safe haven now in the crosshairs

A few years ago, no one in Taybeh thought trouble like this would come. Madees Khoury, who runs the family-founded Taybeh Brewery established in 1994, lived through the Second Intifada, the Arab Spring, and every Gaza war, but nothing touched this ancient town with its centuries-old churches and statues of the Virgin Mary and Jesus on street corners. "Taybeh was always safe, never touched – never, never did I imagine it would come to this," Madees says.

The town, believed to be where Jesus retreated before his final journey to Jerusalem, is the last in the West Bank with a fully Christian population of about 1,200 people, home to the remnants of the fifth-century Church of Saint George.

The situation changed when Israeli settlers, after displacing Bedouin from eastern areas, turned their attention to the hills around Taybeh and began attacks inside the town last year. Mayor Suleiman Khourieh estimates around seven settler outposts now surround the town, with four to five on Taybeh land.

Settlers regularly release cattle, sheep, and camels onto private farmland. Last year, Christian leaders reported fires set near the church and cemetery. A few months ago, armed settlers lit fires along farmland and blocked fire trucks from reaching them.

Taybeh residents face restricted access to land and resources, including the Ein Samiya spring that supplies water to the brewery and nearby Palestinian communities, now under settler control.

Madees Khoury recalls a February morning when a group of settlers entered the town center searching for a nonexistent horse, while her cousin's horse and foal stood just meters away. When the family called the Israeli Civil Administration to have them removed, the officials who arrived instead accompanied the settlers, broke down a door, and helped lead the horse away. "Instead of removing them, the officials came with the settlers onto my father's and uncle's private property... and led the horse and foal away," she says.

The newest outpost, established last week, sits on the town's western edge, in Area B, which is supposed to be under Palestinian civil administration.

Giving form to state protection

Following attacks, including a break-in at a family's home in Taybeh on August 5, the Israeli military on August 9 declared Taybeh and the neighboring village of Rammun closed military zones. The order bars Israelis and foreigners from entering without a specific connection to the village, but few believe it will deter settlers.

"This decision brings nothing practical," Mayor Khourieh says, "because settlers are still there." Father Bashar Fawadleh, priest at the Church of the Redeemer in Taybeh, puts it bluntly: "We don't feel they've really banned settlers from coming to Taybeh."

According to Roland, on the day the closure order was announced, settlers broke into the quarry office, smashing cabinets and equipment. The next morning, he tried to return but encountered settlers; police took two and a half hours to arrive, by which time the settlers had left.

'A cross we must bear'

The emigration of Christian Palestinians is a long-standing issue, as their population in the West Bank has dwindled to around 40,000, just over 1% of the population. Under the pressure of land restrictions and attacks, in Taybeh, the quiet of absence is being replaced by the quiet of fear.

Residents avoid going out, unwilling to risk checkpoints or stretches of road where settler vehicles might block the way. Tourism has vanished; a popular trail starting at the brewery sees almost no visitors. Amid a broader economic downturn and soaring export costs, Taybeh Brewery's revenue has dropped 80% compared to before October 2023.

Fifteen families have left Taybeh in the past two years, leaving behind dozens of parents, mostly heading to the US and Europe.

But almost no one describes leaving as a real option. "Where else can we go?" Roland Basir asks.

"This land is ours," Father Bashar says. "We cannot leave easily... we want to resist by rooting ourselves in this land, being part of it, for dignity, security, peace, and justice."

Mayor Khourieh, whose vineyard now sits behind a settler fence, says: "We are Christian Palestinians. We have lived in this town since Christ walked on it. This is our town. We will not leave. Even in death, we will be buried here, because this is holy land."

Father Bashar compares these threats to a cross: "For me, our problem is the cross we must carry on our shoulders." He pauses, then adds: "Amid this cross, in the hardest moments, we still have hope. In our hearts, we must place hope instead of fear."