I’ve often told anyone who believes that the Israeli occupation is the worst part of a Palestinian woman’s life that we, as Palestinian women, are under two occupations. Neither is less oppressive than the other. The first is the visible and well-documented Israeli occupation. The second, less apparent to many, is the societal and patriarchal oppression that turns even speaking out into a crime against women.
Living in a society under a fascist occupation, whose goal is to eliminate us, is not, for me, the most oppressive force. I imagine many women share my perspective and would agree that something far more invasive and controlling affects our lives than checkpoints, soldiers, weapons, and missiles.
The first occupation is like a rope around our necks, but the second is like a rope tied around our hands, tightening every day, rendering us voiceless, unable to act or speak out.
Last month, while gathering stories about harassment, including sexual harassment at Israeli checkpoints targeting Palestinian women, I realized that many women did not want to discuss or publicize these crimes due to the overwhelming societal pressure and the way our culture blames the female victims. Some women shared their stories, but only anonymously.
I recall an incident over a year ago in a closed area in Al-Khalil/Hebron, where a family experienced harassment. The family kept the incident secret; to this day, we don’t know who they were or exactly what happened. It was reported that the women were forced to strip and were harassed. These women don’t even have the luxury of discussing what happened or seeking psychological help. Instead, they suffer alone.
The immense pressure on women to behave “perfectly” (according to societal standards) and to preserve their “honor” (which, of course, is often reduced to a woman’s reproductive organs) puts most women under unbearable psychological stress. They can’t speak about their problems, and as these incidents accumulate, with no options to voice their pain or object to the dehumanizing treatment, women grow sad, depressed, and without hope or dreams, losing any motivation to wake up each day.
As women, we don’t have the privilege of breaking down, raising our voices, expressing our thoughts, or resisting the humiliation we endure.
During one of my visits to Hebron’s closed area, I spoke with a woman who shared her overwhelming frustration with how much control the occupation has over every detail of Palestinian life. She also told me that no man had proposed to her daughter because they lived in a dangerous area. Men don’t want to marry women who live in areas sealed off by the Israeli army, and the girls are desperate to leave by any means.
I know many love stories have ended because of checkpoints, societal oppression, and the pressure on young women. But is there any woman who can openly talk about it? To this day, I haven’t met a single woman who feels comfortable sharing her experience, naming herself, or even talking about it with her family.
The last available statistics on violence against women in the West Bank and Gaza were from 2019, and I’m confident the numbers have only increased. The numbers would be much higher if every woman were free, to tell the truth and had the space and courage to do so.
52% of women in the West Bank have experienced violence from their husbands; 8.1% have suffered sexual violence. In Al-Khalil/Hebron, 69% of women have been subjected to violence by their husbands, and 13.7% have experienced sexual violence. More than half of the women have experienced violence at least once in their lifetime. As I mentioned, many cannot even talk about the violence they face. These statistics are from before the COVID-19 pandemic and the recent aggression and assaults on Palestine. Over the last five years, men have spent more time at home and have become jobless due to the extreme scarcity of work opportunities. The economic conditions have worsened significantly since 2019, and I expect current statistics will reflect even higher numbers.
In the harsh, ongoing conditions of an occupied country like Palestine — lockdowns, wars, assaults — people tend to remain inside their homes. I’m not suggesting that women alone suffer from oppression; the occupation’s violence affects everyone. But because women are seen as the weaker group, men often project their frustrations onto them. I firmly believe men also experience significant violence and oppression, which I do not minimize, but ultimately, it is women who bear the brunt of all this violence.
I’m not suggesting that all men are complicit, but even those who genuinely want to support women often find themselves constrained by societal pressure. In a patriarchal society, they may ultimately choose silence or compliance rather than actively standing up for women’s rights, as the pressure to conform to these deeply ingrained norms often outweighs the desire to challenge them. Unfortunately, only a small number of people see women as fully human, and until we are viewed as equals, the oppression of two occupations will always bind us.