In West Bank, Israel denies Jenin families right to bury loved ones at home

In the occupied West Bank city of Jenin, the nearly two-week-long Israeli assault has caused severe damage to the city and its refugee camp, leaving 11 bodies stranded in Jenin's morgue. Families of the deceased are afraid to bury their loved ones in Jenin due to fears of attacks from Israeli snipers, drones, and artillery. The situation has further exacerbated the grief and suffering of the affected families.

Mahmoud al-Saadi, head of Jenin's emergency services, stated on Monday: "Families are afraid to bury their relatives in the refugee camp cemetery because Israeli snipers are stationed in high-rise buildings. Some bodies have been in the morgue for over 13 days. We need permission from the Israeli side to carry out the burials, but even that has been delayed multiple times." This delay adds to the emotional burden on grieving families.

Many people have died since Israel launched its latest assault on Jenin on January 21. At least 30 people have been killed by Israeli soldiers, while others have died of natural causes. Their bodies have been unable to be buried for an extended period, causing great distress to their families. For Bassam Turkman, a 55-year-old resident of the refugee camp, the sudden death of his 60-year-old brother, Osama, was an "irreparable loss," and the inability to properly bury him has only intensified the sorrow.

The Turkman family was forced to leave their home and seek refuge in the town of Burqin, west of Jenin. However, their fragile sense of stability collapsed again when their eldest brother's condition suddenly deteriorated and he passed away. Osama's body lay in the cold of the hospital morgue for days, and the family has been contemplating whether to bury him in the unfamiliar land of Burqin, or to cling to the faint hope of returning him to the refugee camp cemetery, to rest beside the home they were forced to flee.

Bassam pleaded with his family to choose Burqin. He told Al Jazeera: "We have always believed that respecting the dead means burying them as soon as possible. It doesn't feel right to leave him in the morgue indefinitely, especially since the hospital is already crowded with the bodies of those killed in the operation." The assault on Jenin followed Israel's 15-month-long assault on Gaza, where a fragile ceasefire has led to the deaths of nearly 62,000 Palestinians and left the region in ruins. According to the United Nations, the operation has led to the displacement of almost all of the nearly 20,000 residents of the Jenin refugee camp.

Bassam said: "We need to visit our dead, sit by their graves, talk to them, and remember them. Burying our loved ones away from home is a pain in itself." But in the end, Osama was buried in Burqin, about 4 kilometers (2.5 miles) from Jenin. As Israeli bulldozers destroyed the infrastructure of the refugee camp, Bassam and his family stood by Osama's grave. Standing next to the Turkman family to perform funeral prayers were members of the Khatib family. They were saying goodbye to 59-year-old Marwan Khatib, who died on the first day of the assault and was buried near Osama in the Burqin cemetery, keeping him company.

Bassam lamented: "The occupiers do not respect the living or the dead. To them, we are all terrorists." On January 28, Israeli forces shot 25-year-old Osama Abu Haya as he stood on the roof of a building. Due to the constant gunfire, his family and ambulances were unable to reach him, and he died of blood loss the next day. His family was also prohibited from holding a traditional funeral.

His brother, Tareq Abu Haya, said: "We wanted to bury Osama next to the other martyrs. But the soldiers blockaded the refugee camp. They even blocked the roads, preventing people from gathering." In Jenin, public processions for those killed by Israeli forces have long been a common act of mourning and resistance. Hundreds of people usually gather to accompany the deceased to the cemetery, and families from across the West Bank join the solemn ceremony to honor those whom many consider "martyrs."

The Abu Haya family could not bear to leave Osama unburied for days, but they knew they could never give him the farewell befitting a "martyr." Therefore, they chose to bury Osama in the nearby Martyrs' Triangle village, ensuring that he received a dignified farewell under the circumstances. Tareq said: "The decision was not easy, but we wanted him to have a decent funeral, even if it meant doing so far from home."

After 13 days of violence in the refugee camp, the Palestinian Liaison Office was finally able to coordinate with the Israeli side to allow funerals to be held for the bodies in the morgue. Israeli authorities imposed strict conditions: no processions, no public gatherings, only ambulances could quietly transport the dead to the cemetery, and each ambulance could only be accompanied by two family members. Just as the mourners began preparing for a collective burial, the Israeli military revoked the coordination, citing "security concerns."

The delays forced Mahmoud of the emergency services and his team to improvise, burying four people in the eastern part of Jenin, which was less affected by the attacks, but the burial of the other seven was postponed again. By Monday, the Israeli military finally allowed the remaining seven to be buried. However, the mourning procession had been transformed by the restrictions imposed by the Israeli military: no crowds of mourners, no slogans. One mourner, who wished to remain anonymous, said: "We have always commemorated our martyrs together. Now, we bury them in silence."