As Easter arrives, Palestinian Christians in the occupied territories observe the holy occasion not with joyful celebrations but with solemn prayers and heavy hearts. Amid Israel’s ongoing brutal onslaught on Gaza and its military escalation in the West Bank, traditional Easter festivities have been largely cancelled, replaced by quiet church services and symbolic gestures of resilience.
In Ramallah, Father Elias Awwad of the Greek Orthodox Church told The New Arab's Arabic language edition, Al-Araby Al-Jadeed, that the usual public displays of Easter joy, such as parades, music, and decorations, have been abandoned.
"Palestine is bleeding. Our people are being killed—children and women. This Easter is confined to prayer and worship," he said. "We plead for peace, the release of prisoners, and for the Palestinian people to gain independence and live in dignity."
For the second year in a row, Palestinian Christians are commemorating Easter in the shadow of war. Journalist Hind Shreideh from Ramallah described it as "an extended Holy Week that has lasted 18 months, a daily crucifixion without pause".
She noted that even access to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem - Christianity’s most sacred site - is effectively blocked for many due to Israel's permit regime and checkpoints.
"Getting there has become an impossible privilege," she said.
In Gaza, where churches and mosques have faced bombardment alike, Christians defiantly marked Palm Sunday last week despite the devastation.
"Our resurrection is not just a memory. It is a daily act of resistance," said Shreideh. "Faith is our weapon against the darkness."
Suleiman Anfous, a resident of Aboud near Ramallah, echoed these sentiments. "How can we celebrate when our people in Gaza are being annihilated?" he asked. "This is not who we are."
While religious rituals continue quietly, public festivities have been set aside. "Easter remains a symbol of hope and triumph over darkness," he added. "We maintain the core traditions, especially for children, to teach them resilience and preserve our identity."
In Bethlehem, artist Mas’adah Hmeid participated in the traditional Holy Fire procession to the Church of the Nativity, but noted the absence of celebration.
"Easter comes this year with light and faith, but no joy," she said. At home, she continues to prepare traditional Easter treats like ma'amoul and painted eggs, but her heart is burdened by the suffering in Gaza. "This year's grief lives in us," she said, calling on the world to act to end the war.
In the northern West Bank town of Zababdeh, Easter celebrations were also scaled back. "We feel the pain of our Muslim brothers and sisters during Eid, as our people are killed, wounded, and imprisoned," said Joseph Lambros. "This year, like the last, there is no room for joy."
Even the usual sweets are made in silence. "We offer prayers to God alone. He is our only refuge in the face of this brutal assault."
Zababdeh Mayor Ghassan Dreibes confirmed that all public festivities had been cancelled. "Easter, the most important holiday for Christians, is marked only with religious observances now," he said.
The town, which previously held parades and welcomed the Holy Fire with great fanfare, now focuses solely on spiritual rituals. "This is our way of expressing our reality under a campaign of annihilation and destruction," he said. Zababdeh is also hosting around 1,000 displaced Palestinians from Jenin, victims of Israeli military raids.
In Jerusalem, the spiritual heart of Easter for millions of Christians worldwide, the atmosphere is similarly subdued. "All the joy of Easter has vanished," said George Sahhar, a local activist. "Churches issued a joint statement cancelling all celebrations beyond religious services - no scouts, no music, no decorations." Even for children, activities have been restricted to the home.
Elia Yaqoub, a mother of three in Jerusalem’s Old City, said her family has reduced Easter traditions to the bare minimum. "I made some date cookies just for the children, but we won’t even serve them on a guest tray," she said. "The videos and images coming from Gaza are horrifying. The children understand. When we tell them we're skipping a tradition because of Gaza, they accept it without protest."
Her five-year-old daughter Sandra had asked about going out to see the scout parades and dress up, as they had done in previous years. "I told her there would be no parades again this year, and no dinners out. Gaza is starving and dying. She nodded quietly and went back to painting Easter eggs with her siblings."
Yara Daoud, also from Jerusalem, noted the deep spiritual importance of Easter to local Christians. "For us, Easter is the real beginning of the year, not New Year’s Day," she said. This year marks a rare occasion where all Christian denominations celebrate Easter on the same day - a unifying moment muted by sorrow.
"Christians from the West Bank can’t come due to Israeli permit restrictions, and those from abroad have been barred too," she added.
In her family, as with many others, festive preparations have been minimal. "How can we bake cookies while Gaza is starving?" she asked. Public egg-painting events for children have been cancelled, and many feel ashamed to celebrate. "It's as if the war has extinguished our light," she said.
Daoud concluded with a reflection on the broader struggle: "Israel has always tried to suppress Christian presence during Easter, seeing it as authentically Palestinian and threatening to their narrative," she said.
"But Easter in Jerusalem remains a powerful symbol of Palestinian identity, with an Arab soul that provokes Israel."