Birds Unaccustomed to Gravity
The view from the home of 20-year-old Hamza Arakat. Hamza is the same age as the separation barrier. The wind is blocked they say. They also long to access Jerusalem and the Dome of the Rock, just in view. Hamza lost his little sister’s life because of this wall and checkpoints, as the young cancer patient could not get through to the nearby hospital and would often wait hours with his mother to try to pass.
Orthodox Jews pause in nature, a break from the giant bonfires and fervent celebrations of Lag b' Omer. It is one of the largest Hassidic gatherings in the world. It is also the site of a forcibly depopulated Palestinian village from 1948, a majority forced to live in refugee camps in Lebanon and Syria.
Somaya, one of the first real estate agents in the Palestinian city of Rawabi. She peeks out of Rawabi's PR office, selling the Palestinian dream: affordable homes and a comfortable life.
The Israeli-controlled checkpoint in Hebron (Bab al Zawiyah) separates Palestinians in their city — where Palestinians must enter the army and settler scrutiny to enter their homes. A new surveillance camera placed on the outside of the checkpoint (upper right) was installed just after the recent Israeli elections. Human rights groups say it can remotely shoot live ammunition as well as other special “crowd control” munitions.
Palestinian protestors used whatever means they could find to provide cover. Giant city gas bins used tires on fire, random pieces of wood. Palestinian protests in Ramallah, on Nakba day. May 1948 (and May 15th) marks the creation of the State of Israel. For Palestinians, it marks the Nakba (‘catastrophe’), when more than 700,000 Palestinians were forced out of their homes. Today – exactly 70 years later – those 700,000 have exceeded six million.
Counter-terrorism training for sport and tourism is rising. Here, about 20 American and French tourists participated in the "Shooting Adventure" workshop offered by Caliber 3, an Israeli ‘counter-terrorism’ training center in the Gush Etzion settlement in the Occupied Palestinian West Bank. For 100 euros, foreign visitors had two hours to learn how to defend themselves against “terrorists.” Provided by former IDF soldiers, counter-terrorism training for foreigners is increasing. "Line up!" Avoid taking your weapon like a guitar; point it at the ground. When you're ready, raise it up, aim and shoot. Obediently, the participants do so under the watchful eye of the instructor. With the butt wedged against the shoulder, each shout "ech ech ech" (fire, in Hebrew) to parody the shot. On this August afternoon, about 20 participated in the "Shooting Adventure" workshop.
A commander of the Israeli Forces Ammunition Research Center — who the army would only identify as “Major G” — speaks to reporters at a press tour. The soldier showed weapons the army said they found in the villages left behind by the Hamas militants after the October 7th invasion. Major G said they believed the weapons had been made locally. As press gathered at a flurry of Israeli army pressers, international press was denied access to Gaza and Palestinian journalists in Gaza were killed in unprecedented numbers.
Mohammed Saleh sits with his sister, Malak, in a room full of kindling gathered by their father in the weeks before he was killed by an Israeli settler. The firewood kept them warm during their first winter without their father. They believe it was his last gift. Their father was the first casualty in what they say was vengeance after October 7th in the West Bank. Mohammed Saleh witnessed his father’s death after he was shot by an Israeli settler. The 14-year-old boy from As-Sawiya, a village south of Nablus, has seen attacks against Palestinians intensify as the settlements grow. On Oct. 28, armed settlers approached Mohammed’s father, Bilal, as he picked olives in their family’s grove. An Israeli opened fire, striking Bilal, in what Mohammed’s family believes was a revenge attack against Palestinians for Hamas’s Oct. 7 assault. The father bled out as he was transported on the wooden ladder he had just used to reach olive branches. He died in front of his son. “I am just a boy, but now I am the man of the house,” Mohammed said.
Two Palestinian friends bounce lasers off the distant military base over their olive groves in protest. The town have been protesting and resisting against territorial expropriation of Beita’s land. Since May 2021, ten Palestinians have been killed, including two children, and many were injured or left with disabilities because of confrontations in Jabal Sabih in Beita. Amid attempts by Israeli settlers to re-establish an outpost on Jabal Sabih, Palestinian villagers have expressed their opposition in the form of marches and protests, bringing them into confrontations with the Israel Forces. They call their tactics "night confusion" utilizing lasers and music and prayer on loudspeakers.
Portrait of an Israeli Breslov follower in a freshwater Mikveh, in a nature reserve on the “depopulated” 1948 Palestinian village of Malha. Today, an Israeli mall stands nearby, named “Malha Mall”. During the photo session, the memorial sounds of the Holocaust sirens sounded in the backdrop.
A portrait of a mother, hidden pregnant belly, and daughter in lap. Over the last eight years, a 31-year-old pregnant mother of two known as Umm Ahmad has had two miscarriages and an induced abortion. She was four months pregnant when, in January 2015, a tear gas canister entered her house. She hid inside the bathroom to avoid the tear gas but was still asphyxiated by it and almost lost consciousness. She was taken in a taxi to al-Hussein Hospital in the nearby town of Beit Jala. Following advice from several doctors, she decided to have an induced abortion as the health of the fetus was abnormal. She expressed her fears to Amnesty International about being pregnant while living in the Aida refugee camp.
Two friends. Gazan refugees. Sanaa, 33, is a teacher and mother of six. Her family is from Beersheba. Her parents fled to Gaza during the Nakba and then to Jordan from Gaza in 1968, after the 1967 war. Sanaa was born in Jerash camp, and she still lives there with her family in a small house with two rooms. She teaches at a private school but without a contract. “I have no health insurance, and they can lay me off anytime. If I had a national [identity] number, I would have enjoyed all labor protections, and my children would have health insurance.” Although Palestinian children without citizenship benefit from a royal decree that stipulates that all children under the age of six have access to free healthcare services, Sanaa reports that she was discriminated against in a public hospital when one of her children became sick in early 2017. She described her experience with bitterness: “My child had whooping cough. I took him immediately to a public hospital. His condition was very bad, and I wanted to admit him to the hospital. But the doctor gave him medicine and sent us back home. At night, his condition deteriorated. He couldn’t breathe. I retook him to the hospital, but this time with the birth certificate of the son of my Jordanian friend. In no time, my child was admitted to the hospital for treatment.
This is Tala, 7, playing sleeping princess in a ridge in the earth, from a tractor on her family's farmland. After October 7th, she and her family are the only family of this community remaining. The violence and heightened militarization of the nearby settlers became too much to risk for the community to stay on their land. In February of 2018, Tala and her siblings from their farming community witnessed their father attacked by the Rotem settlement guard Didi. The brother and sister both show great fear.
A young boy cuddles his mother, exhausted after helping the men in village build a new well. Al Araqeeb Bedouin village has been demolished over 100 times in five years. The village is in the Negev, in Israel proper where some people say is path that Hagar wandered after being expelled with her son Isaac out of Hebron by Abraham. Despite the scarcity of water, one of the most common practices of Israeli demolition teams is choking off wells with rocks and sand. The only part of the village left standing in each successive demolition is the cemetery, which then serves as nucleus as the village is rebuilt, over and over again.
Thaer Rajabi, 9, wears a Palestinian flag as a cape while playing near an inflatable pool on the rooftop of an apartment building in the Batan Hawa neighborhood in Silwan. "The children were disappointed not to visit the sea for their Eid vacation after Ramadan — there was too much fear for us to leave our house. So I brought them this pool,” explained Kayed al Rajabi, 34-year-old father of six sons and two daughters, whose family is facing possible eviction from Israeli settlers. Silwan, Batn al Hawa area forms the largest number of households in single area in East Jerusalem under risk of eviction by settler organizations with 97 household compressing 453 people including 223 children.
An elder farmer from Ein Shibli, a community under extreme duress from violent settler Moshe Sharvit—lives in fear of violence and forced displacement. Here, Nabil Ishtaya took advantage of reporter presence to run to his home (amidst terrified screams from the community begging him not to) for the first time in weeks. The settlers had chased his family away and set fires to neighboring structures. He peers into window to see if any damage was done and an emaciated dog greeted him upon his return. A dead bird was hung on his clothesline, which he said was a warning.
Israeli settlers hang a dead bird on the clothesline of elder farmer Nabil Ishtaya, which he said was a warning.
Inside “Little Gaza,” where Israeli Soldiers train for Gaza invasions. Just 12 miles from Gaza, and two days before the full-scale Israeli Military invasion began in Gaza, reservists trained in an Israeli military replica of a generic Gazan village. The soldiers prepared for combat in narrow streets, with replicated mosques, graffiti, and a labyrinth of tunnels. Thousands of soldiers in southern Israel were waiting for the go-ahead from politicians and commanders to do what the Israeli military has trained for years to do: fight in the Gaza Strip. “Little Gaza” was built in 2006 and is known officially as the urban training center.
The forcibly displaced community of Zanuta — the traumatized herder community says they were chased away by violent Israeli settlers almost immediately after October 7th. It is now a ghost town, clothes seeping into the dirt, roofs open, health clinic busted, a decaying goat…and their school building busted into with broken glass and desks and books ripped and thrown on the floor.
The Qusra mayor, Hani Abu Ala, peers towards the settlement where violent settlers laid rampage in previous days. In the most severe incident, his village of Qusra (South of Nablus), saw four Palestinians killed by settlers, and nine were injured after settlers entered the village and opened fire. Soldiers of the IDF were also present at the incident, and it is still not clear whether the deaths were caused by settler fire or by the IDF. The day after the incident, during the funeral of the victims, settlers called on people to come and stop the funeral procession. Indeed, the funeral procession was attacked on its way to Qusra and a Palestinian father and son were killed. Since the beginning of the week, there have been dozens of violent incidents by settlers against Palestinians across the West Bank. In the most severe incident in the village of Qusra (South of Nablus), four Palestinians were killed, and nine were injured after settlers entered the village and opened fire. Soldiers of the IDF were also present at the incident, and it is still not clear whether the deaths were caused by settler fire or by the IDF. The day after the incident, during the funeral of the victims, settlers called on people to come and stop the funeral procession. Indeed, the funeral procession was attacked on its way to Qusra and a Palestinian father and son were killed.
An Israeli settler child walks out of a housing structure within view of a Palestinian town in distance. Two young men sit in structure beside her. The outpost overlooks nearby proximity of Palestinian towns and villages Beita, Yatma, Qabalan. This outpost had been emptied except for soldiers, but after October 7th, a full re-occupation by settlers began. The nearby Palestinian towns and villages have already faced violence and threats.
Young Palestinian community volunteers visit their neighboring Bedouin community of Zanba. They work with women from the community to set up psychosocial and safe play area services with the children. Here, they prepare a backdrop for theatre, showcasing East Jerusalem and the Dome of Rock, which they are not able to access despite proximity. It remains a powerful symbol for most Palestinians, not only one of most venerated places in Islam but one of the few open spaces in the old city usually safe from the occupation where one can relax in open space in an often-tense city and socialize.
On the night of Oct. 11, armed men wearing balaclavas and military uniforms entered the village of Susiya, going from house to house and banging on doors. “Your time is running out” the men said, according to witnesses. One resident said he and his children had a rifle pointed at them. Susiya youth Ahmed Nawaja has kept pigeons since childhood, which he says gives him a sense of peace. He wakes up with fear, expecting to see dead birds, sheep, and destroyed drinking wells.
Three sisters play afterschool in Beita. Their father, Imad Ali Dweikat, had recently been killed by the Israeli army at a gathering to protest settler grabs on the town’s olive groves of Mount Sabih. Their mother explains: My eldest cannot speak about him. Until now, she won't go to his grave. I try to get the girls to talk about their feelings, but they have trouble speaking about it. He had a nickname for each of his girls. He never got the chance to nickname his infant son. He called Alaa 'his first and biggest joy.' He called our second daughter, Baylasan, 'my bodyguard, my protector' because she's strong. Our third we called 'harkoosha' ['gremlin'] because she's a troublemaker. And Roaa was named 'a little smurf' because she's tiny. His dream was for the girls to finish university. He expected Alaa to become a doctor and Baylasan an engineer. He wanted them to achieve big things in life. He cared deeply about their education. Him protesting on the mountain that day was also about protecting his family and the girls' future.
Wadi Seeq was forcibly depopulated under a violent Israeli settler attack. All that remained were skeletons of shacks clustered in the shallow valley. Forty-odd families had lived here since the nineties, but the last of them had fled a month before. Inside the community school, overturned desks lay on the floor; lessons remained on the whiteboards.
Wounded father Awad Odeh, watches over his traumatized daughter in his relatives’ home after the attack on his home by settlers of Esh Kodesh. He received a call from his children and wife as they were under siege by settlers. He and other men ran to protect them. He was wounded as well as his six-year-old daughter, Rahaf. His children are too traumatized and afraid to return to their home. Their home is the closest to the settlers. Rahaf is not speaking since the attack and stays in a corner of her aunt’s home, silent. The Palestinian village of Qusra saw four people killed. Then, when the villagers tried to mourn their dead in a funeral procession, witnesses said armed settlers lay in wait and shot and killed a father and son.
Memorial created at the spot where journalist Shireen Abu Aqleh was killed by Israeli forces while covering Israeli incursions into Jenin refugee camp. From early morning till 11 pm for weeks after her killing, women, men, children, and families came from within the camp and beyond to pay respects. She was a voice that meant the world to generations of Palestinians and her killing (and the desecration of her funeral) was devastating. A memorial later built at this location was bulldozed by the Israel army in their recent demolitions.
“Little Gaza,” an Israeli army simulated town. A penetration training drill just 12 miles from Gaza, and two days before the full-scale Israeli Military invasion began in Gaza. This training group took part in a penetration drill inside “little Gaza,” located at a base in the Negev desert. The reservists practiced how to invade from the desert. From the edge of the simulated town, they moved among minarets protruding from mosques and rectangular cement houses. The soldiers faced off with men dressed in black t-shirts, pretending to be militants, and practiced spotting others in windows. They rehearsed carrying soldiers out of the simulated village. Meanwhile, in prep for the invasion of Gaza, the Israeli army laid waste to entire neighborhoods in real Gaza. “Little Gaza” was built in 2006 and is known officially as the urban training center.
Musicians for hire lead a procession of cars to a wedding party. Traditionally, they accompany the groom to pick up the bride and jump out and play for the arrival of the bride and groom at wedding hall.
Layan Harouda, 15 years old, floats in the Persian Gulf off the coast of Qatar on May 21. She fled Gaza with her family in November and wonders if they will ever be able to return home. She protected her younger siblings when airstrikes pounded her hometown of Gaza City late last year. She says the scenes of the wars she has lived through haunt her daily. ‘I was robbed of my youth, we have lived through things no one ever should,” she said. The survivors guilt she feels in Doha as her friends remain in Gaza ravage her stomach, she says.
The ongoing Israeli occupation and the relentless 19-month total war on Gaza portend a darkening future, with implications for fundamental rights including the right to life, freedom of speech, and assembly. Having lived for 15 years in East Jerusalem and raising two Palestinian-American children, I have come to see the complexities of Palestinian reality in anguished (and joyous) detail. This series traces the shattering confrontations, microscopic gestures of liberation, and the forging, holding, and remembering of space that define Palestinian life. This grant will allow me to cultivate techniques to narrate submerged histories and to connect the implications of the unending cycle of violence, forcible transfer, and what the ICC has recognized as a “plausible” genocide for the future of the region, and the future of humanity.
I am a professional photojournalist who has covered the regional effects of the occupation of Palestine for decades, and the current Israeli war on Gaza extensively for the Wall Street Journal, in my working life while gathering testimony and archives of Palestinian Photojournalists in Gaza as a volunteer for a UN OCHA project. The October 7th Hamas atrocities and the subsequent total war on Gaza have thrust me into full-on war coverage in the place my children and I call home. Navigating the disparate realities and cognitive dissonance has been exhausting.
This work, made between 2016 and 2024, ended abruptly after years of exhaustive efforts to gain residency for family reunification were made futile by the Israeli government. I made the anguished decision to take my family to the US and pursue a second MA (an MFA) at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, researching expanded approaches to visual storytelling and testimony.
Amidst rising Israeli military and settler violence in the West Bank and the conscious and continued informational isolation of Gaza, at least 232 Palestinian journalists have been killed. Gaza is the deadliest conflict for journalists in recorded history. Having spent my life in journalism, I believe we in the West have a responsibility to bring stories of the lives lived (and ended) in Palestine to light, to honor the legacy of journalist colleagues who have been killed amid devasting Israeli airstrikes, famine, the displacement of 90% of Gaza’s population, and the destruction of 80% of its buildings.
The Aftermath project allows me to connect eight years of documentary work with this crucial present, wherein Palestinian existence is being extinguished, civilian lives, and the physical spaces and historical geographies that have defined Palestine for centuries.
Tanya Habjouqa is a documentary photographer and educator, known for blending solemnity with an intuitive sense of metaphor through ongoing investigations into forms of community trauma and dispossession. Her artistic practice links collaborative portraiture, gender identities, representations of otherness, and human rights discourse with a mordant sense of irony.
Born in Amman to a Circassian father and Texan mother, the Circassian genocide and subsequent sanctuary in Jordan influenced her work from her earliest days. Her first monograph, Occupied Pleasures, was published in 2015 and heralded by TIME magazine and the Smithsonian as one of the best photo books of that year. The project won a World Press Photo award in 2014.
Tanya is a founding mentor in the Arab Documentary Program, which has nurtured the development of marginalized narratives and photographers from the Middle East and North Africa for over a decade. She has worked as a freelance photographer for the Wall Street Journal, NPR, Le Monde, National Geographic, the New Yorker, and the Washington Post, amongst others. She is represented by East Wing Gallery, and is concurrently teaching and securing her second Masters, an MFA at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, while researching artist books, print and paper-making, cartonera, historical archives, and documentary theatre.