The economic situation in the West Bank has declined significantly in the year since October 7, in large part due to Palestinians who are no longer able to work legally in Israel. “There are many who have nothing to eat, Murad Anaya, 32, from the West Bank city of Qalqilya, told Davar. “Some people turned off the fridge because it was empty. I know one who sold his clothes iron for 20 shekels [$5] so he could have money for bread. Another went to Ramallah to sell his car, because he has no money."
Like around 130,000 other West Bank Palestinians, Anaya used to be employed in Israel.
“I worked in a supermarket. I was nearly a manager of several branches,” he said. “Every day I left Qalqilya and came back. On weekends I would stay in Israel, because branches needed to be opened on Saturday nights. On Friday, October 6, I told everyone I was going home. The other guys stayed. They called me on Saturday and said there were missiles. Things got worse, and they went home. On Sunday, the crossings were closed and we couldn't get through.”
The number of Palestinian workers in Israel plummeted from 130,000 in August to just 8,000 in October. According to insurance data, in November the number of workers hit 28,000, at which it’s essentially stabilized.
“Since then, I haven’t done anything,” Anaya said. “I’ve just been helping my wife at home.”
Anaya was part of an informal savings club wherein 20 people deposited money each month and took turns receiving the monthly collection.
“I took 100,000 shekels [$27,000] in April,” he said. “I also registered with the employment office. I’m getting along.”
At first, Anaya said, employers tried to help some Palestinian workers, but they didn’t realize how long the de facto ban on entry permits would last.
“We thought that the lockdown would be, as they always were in the past, just for a few days,” he said. “At first, I gave money to the guys who worked with me so that they could live, for as long as I could. Now I can’t. I won’t be able to last much longer. I don’t know what to do. Had I known that the war would continue, I would not have given out my money.”
“Some people have nothing,” Anaya continued. “They are living day to day. It’s been 11 months of war. We put money aside, but in the end all of our savings will run out.”
According to the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics, the average daily wage for a Palestinian worker in Israel was 298 shekels ($80), more than double the average daily wage for workers in areas controlled by the Palestinian Authority, 139 shekels ($37).
“For us, the average [monthly] salary is 3,000 shekels [$809],” Anaya said. “I got 16,000 to 20,000 shekels [$4,315 to $5,394] every month. The minimum wage here is 1,800 shekels [$485], yours [in Israel] is 6,300 shekels [$1,699].”
The wage gaps between Israel and the PA have turned Palestinian workers in Israel into members of the PA’s middle class. According to Khaled Dukhi, director of the Palestinian Workers Department at the Israeli workers’ rights organisation Kav LaOved, a Palestinian worker in Israel earns more than a doctor in a PA hospital.
“They had purchasing power. They owned cars, they took out loans in PA banks,” Dukhi explains. “People got used to a certain standard of living, education, pocket money, shopping. Suddenly they have zero revenue. We can assume for some who had savings or jewellery, or whatever they had that was on the side, they used it. They have no other income. They would sell the jewellery. For every day that passes, they become the lowest class in the PA. Those who own a dunam of land and live off it have become accustomed to a low standard of living. They have no source of income.”
At this point, workers have little hope, Dukhi said. Palestinian can withdraw their pension savings either by presenting a letter of dismissal or giving up their work permit. “Out of about 100,000 workers, about half withdrew the money,” Dukhi noted. “The rest have not received a letter of dismissal or hope to return to work in Israel.”
Anaya explained that those who worked in Israel do not receive unemployment benefits from the PA. “We haven’t received a single shekel since October,” he said. “During the teachers’ strike, workers in Israel laughed at the teachers because of their low wages, so they asked workers to give and help the teachers. They gave. Now no one is giving to us. The workers donated when they were rich, but now no one looks at us.”
According to the Bank of Israel, the contribution of Palestinian workers in Israel to the PA’s economy stood at 3 billion shekels [$809 million] a year until September 2023. The lack of work in Israel is taking its toll on West Bank cities.
“In Qalqilya, 40%-50% of the working population worked in Israel,” Anaya said. “They contributed to half of the city’s domestic economy. Now the situation is terrible. What is saving the city are Israel Arabs who come to shop. Jenin is closed. Tulkarem is closed. Now they come to us. Some money comes in, but not like someone who works in Israel and earns 7,000 shekels [$1,886] a month. That’s two or three times the average salary in Qalqilya.”
“The Palestinian economy depends on the income of these workers, on taxes, and on the entry of Israeli Arabs who shop in PA cities,” Dukhi, who travels to PA cities for his job, said. “Every day, 12,000 workers left Jenin for Israel, and every day 2 to 5 million shekels [$539,000 to $1.3 million] came in from purchases by Arab citizens of Israel. This was shut down. Tulkarem has no income at all. I saw stalls at the entrances to the cities for Israeli Arabs, in vegetable stalls, but it's still a minority. In Qalqilya, the [Israeli] army goes in and out. There is now about a third of what was coming in before October 7.”
Dukhi described the situation as “a ticking time bomb.” “The defense establishment also says that we need to release a bit of the pressure,” he said. “From a security point of view, almost all of them thought only about making a living. If a father works in Israel, his children and siblings don’t throw stones. If there is no revenue, those same people will turn to crime or terrorism. They have no alternative.”
As for Anaya, he’s fearful for the future. “I want to leave,” he said. “The situation is making people frustrated and desperate.”
This article was translated from Hebrew and edited for context by Benji Sharp.
