Introduction 

Afrasianet - Sami Qarrah - Jerusalem is a city with deep historical roots, rich spiritual and cultural significance, and a unique center for the three Abrahamic religions. Throughout the ages, it has been the cradle of successive civilizations and the stage for protracted political conflicts, making it a symbol of cultural diversity, a meeting point for overlapping dimensions of identity, and a living embodiment of an ongoing struggle over land, belonging, and sovereignty.

While older generations of Palestinians in Jerusalem possess vivid and enduring memories of a city that was a natural extension of their cultural and national identity, contemporary Palestinian youth live under a completely different reality, reflecting profound structural transformations on multiple levels. Geographically, these young people are exposed to constant changes in the city's structure as a result of deliberate policies aimed at reshaping Jerusalem's demographic and geographic composition.

These policies include settlement construction, house demolitions, revocation of residency permits, prevention of family reunification, restrictions on freedom of movement, and other measures designed to reduce the Palestinian population in the city. These measures severely restrict Palestinian movement within the holy city, negatively impacting their ability to access their ancestral homes and maintain their physical and symbolic connection to the city. Culturally, numerous external influences, particularly from Israeli and Western cultures, are penetrating the fabric of Palestinian society in Jerusalem, contributing to the gradual erosion of authentic Palestinian heritage, customs, and traditions.

These influences manifest in daily life practices, social patterns, popular celebrations, and forms of artistic and cultural expression. This unequal cultural intrusion leads to a sense of cultural alienation among young Jerusalemites, distinct from that experienced by their peers in the West Bank. They find themselves in a constant struggle between preserving their Palestinian roots and identity and adapting to a different cultural reality imposed by daily contact with Israeli society and the influences of Western culture. Linguistically, the language environment of young people is undergoing profound changes. Arabic is losing its status as their mother tongue and a fundamental pillar of their cultural identity, while Hebrew is increasingly used in various spheres, including education in schools and universities, the job market, and public facilities.

This gradual decline in Arabic not only weakens their language skills but also threatens the cohesion of their national identity, given that language is a central element in shaping collective memory and preserving cultural heritage. The linguistic alienation faced by young Palestinians in Jerusalem manifests in difficulties communicating with older generations, the loss of vocabulary and expressions that represent their popular culture, and a growing sense of detachment from their original environment.

These geographical, cultural, and linguistic shifts intertwine, resulting in a multidimensional alienation that deepens the sense of marginalization and isolation among Palestinian youth in Jerusalem, weakening their connection to their original identity and their deep ties to their historic city. This alienation not only creates a generational gap but also poses a structural threat to the very fabric of Palestinian identity, undermining the foundations of cultural and social resilience against attempts at erasure and forced change.

Therefore, this phenomenon cannot be viewed as merely a side effect of modernization or urban development; rather, it is part of a deliberate approach aimed at redefining the identity of Jerusalemites by imposing dominant cultural and political narratives that exclude the other and reshape the city's symbolic, cultural, and social landscape. Confronting these challenges requires a profound understanding of the complex nature of this alienation and a rethinking of strategies to support Palestinian youth.

This involves strengthening educational institutions, cultural activities, and community initiatives that foster belonging and identity, and provide alternatives that empower them to resist attempts at erasure and forced assimilation. Preserving this identity remains a national and moral responsibility, touching the very core of Jerusalem's future and its people.

It calls for concerted efforts to rebuild the connections between young people and their collective memory, and between them and their holy city. Geographical Alienation: The Erosion of the Landscape and the Multiplicity of Narratives In a city where stone intertwines with history, and the street with myth, daily life in Jerusalem is inextricably linked to the question of existence and identity.

The city, whose hills are swept by winds laden with stories, is not as it appears on modern maps; rather, it is being rewritten to the rhythm of urban transformation and the fading of memory. For Palestinians, especially the younger generation, Jerusalem is no longer the city that resides in their hearts, but rather a distorted, altered space, hidden behind a veil of symbolic exclusion and physical transformation that erases its original features. The place that once represented the natural extension of their ancestral environment, with its narrow alleyways, ancient trees, and open markets, is now besieged by concrete walls, checkpoints, and foreign names.

This is the new Jerusalem, not as its inhabitants see it, but as it has been imposed upon them. In neighborhoods like Beit Hanina and Shuafat, for example, a new generation is growing up surrounded by concrete walls, barbed wire, and military checkpoints. These elements become part of this new generation's daily life, no longer surprising or questioning, but rather absorbed as a natural part of the urban environment. In this way, the sense of the city grows not as a vast, shared space, but as a collection of separate, isolated blocks, fragmented and with their features obscured. Jerusalem is no longer as our ancestors described it, nor as it was portrayed in our collective memory.

The city that once pulsated with life, with its open markets, winding streets, and olive trees whose roots ran deep into the hills, has transformed into a faded landscape, bearing no resemblance to the image experienced by previous generations. These landmarks now exist only in memories and oral histories, and with their fading presence, the bonds of belonging have weakened, and a sense of alienation has crept in, even within the city itself.

This alienation is no longer merely a matter of geographical distance; it has become an internal estrangement, a cumulative feeling that grows with every new image imposed upon our consciousness: signs in foreign languages, intrusive architecture that bears no relation to the environment or our identity, and a daily scene emptied of its historical symbols. Jerusalem is no longer defined by the cultural and historical symbols that shaped Palestinian identity for decades. Instead, its presence is now contingent upon the erasure of those symbols and the marginalization of its original landmarks.

In the heart of the city, public spaces have been reshaped to reflect a singular narrative that excludes the Palestinian one. This narrative is promoted in parks, cultural centers, and archaeological sites through Hebrew and English (and perhaps a token Arabic) signage, presenting a distorted view of the city's history and its Palestinian inhabitants.

Thus, Jerusalem is transformed from a symbol of identity into a contested space, not only geographically, but also in terms of memory, vision, and language. This deliberate erasure of Palestinian identity and obliteration of cultural and historical landmarks is clearly evident in urban reshaping policies. These policies go beyond mere construction or renovation, as seen in infrastructure projects where new roads are built to facilitate movement and meet evolving needs, while older roads deemed inefficient or hindering development are erased.

They extend to the erasure of history and the rewriting of collective memory. Let's take, for example, the Mamilla (Ma'man Allah) neighborhood, near Jaffa Gate in Jerusalem, which has now been transformed into a luxurious shopping center teeming with visitors, but it stands on the ruins of what was once a vibrant Palestinian area whose features have been erased.

Another example illustrating how the reshaping of public spaces in Jerusalem is used for political and symbolic purposes, where history is reproduced within a singular narrative that excludes the other, is the Mughrabi Quarter adjacent to the Western Wall (also known as the Wailing Wall). Established in the 13th century, this quarter was an integral part of the Old City and was inhabited by Palestinians of North African origin.

The Mughrabi Quarter contained homes, schools, mosques, and religious centers, and was home to a vibrant community deeply rooted in the city's historical fabric. However, on June 10, 1967, just one day after the occupation of East Jerusalem, Israeli authorities demolished the entire quarter within 48 hours, displacing approximately 650 of its residents, under the pretext of creating a large plaza in front of the Western Wall to facilitate Jewish prayer.

In his book "Under the Wall: The Mughrabi Quarter in Jerusalem – Its Life and Death 1187-1967" (2024), French historian Vincent Lemaire reveals that this demolition was not spontaneous, as the Israeli narrative claims, but rather an official decision made at the highest political and military levels. This is based on archival documents proving that the evictions and expulsions were carried out systematically within a few hours. Lemaire also points to a tacit agreement between Israel and Jordan, manifested in Amman's silence in exchange for its continued religious custodianship of the Al-Aqsa Mosque.

This contributed to the erasure of the historical Maghrebi presence in Jerusalem. Today, no trace of the neighborhood's history or its inhabitants remains at the site. The space has been transformed into a stage presented within a purely Israeli narrative that focuses on Jewish religious symbolism, completely obliterating Palestinian memory.

These policies not only alter the city but also reshape the relationship between its inhabitants and their land. When new generations grow up in environments devoid of the markers that once shaped their place's identity, the relationship between the individual and the place becomes fragile and unstable. A young person living in a neighborhood whose name no longer holds any meaning for them, and which no longer contains any trace of their family's memory, feels as though the place is being gradually taken from them.

This has led to tangible changes on the ground. A 2019 report by B'Tselem reveals that the rate of home demolitions in East Jerusalem has doubled under the pretext of "unlicensed" construction, as part of a systematic planning framework that deliberately disregards the Palestinians' inherent right to growth and urban expansion. According to the report, between 2004 and the end of 2019, Israeli authorities demolished a total of 978 Palestinian homes, forcibly displacing 3,177 people, including 1,710 children.

This reflects an ongoing policy of displacement, with the threat of demolition still hanging over tens of thousands of other homes, jeopardizing families' stability and their right to live in dignity on their land. This threat, however, is not limited to physical demolition; it also deprives residents, especially young people, of their sense of spatial stability and reinforces the feeling that their presence in their city is not an inherent right, but rather a precarious, conditional status that could be revoked at any moment.

For young people, these transformations not only alter the city's landscape but also disrupt their sense of belonging. Growing up in neighborhoods where homes are subject to demolition, where original names are erased, and where landmarks that form collective memory are disappearing, makes you feel like a stranger in the city where you were born.

The homeland is transformed from a space of containment into a space of temporary waiting. In his poetry collection, originally published in English under the title "Companions," the Palestinian poet Mohammed Al-Kurd describes this symbolic violence as an extension of the colonial setback, stating, "In Jerusalem, maps are drawn to erase our existence."

This situation generates feelings of both anxiety and displacement, as the sense of stability fades, replaced by a growing awareness that the Palestinian presence in Jerusalem is not an established right, but rather a fragile existence, conditioned by constant pressure and threatened with exclusion at any moment. This makes the experience of young people in Jerusalem one of double alienation: from the space itself, and from the dominant narrative that governs it.

This disparity leads to two historical visions of Jerusalem: one, preserved in the memories of older generations, pulsating with Palestinian continuity; and the other, experienced by young people, distorted by new urban planning and imposed political realities. More often than not, the younger generation inherits a fragmented memory, not based on direct lived experience, but on transmitted narratives, images, or oral accounts—thus deepening their psychological sense of alienation from the city that should be closest to their hearts. In Jerusalem, the struggle is not merely about sovereignty or construction, but about who has the right to tell the story. Without a recognized historical narrative, young Palestinians become strangers in the city of their birth.

Cultural Penetration and the Erosion of Identity: Palestinian Youth in Jerusalem Face Daily Challenges The geographical proximity to West Jerusalem and the proliferation of Israeli institutions and Western consumer culture have introduced new behavioral patterns and norms into the lives of Palestinian youth, often appearing alien to their cultural and social context. While cultural exchange is often a factor that enriches human experiences, the Palestinian context, particularly in East Jerusalem and the areas adjacent to West Jerusalem, witnesses an unequal pattern of this exchange, characterized by imbalance, dominance, and a lack of dialogue.

The dominant culture, represented by the Israeli state through its official institutions and its educational and media influence, in addition to the presence of Western consumer culture, does not allow for free or equal interaction with Palestinian culture. Instead, it gradually imposes itself on the details of daily Palestinian life.

This manifests itself in the renaming of streets, the opening of institutions that adopt Hebrew or Western curricula, and the promotion of lifestyles disconnected from traditional Palestinian values. This impact extends beyond the city's physical infrastructure to its symbolic and emotional consciousness, as the new generation begins to adopt patterns of thought and consumption that distance it from its original identity. In East Jerusalem, many young people suffer from a sense of division between two languages, two identities, and two educational systems.

Some are forced to enroll in schools that follow the Israeli curriculum to secure better future opportunities, which, in turn, means a gradual reduction of their connection to the Palestinian narrative and a weakening of their ties to Palestinian cultural heritage. This adaptation is not a free choice, but rather the result of constant pressure from an authoritarian structure that is reshaping identity in an invisible yet effective way. In this context, young Jerusalemites are increasingly reliant on Israeli higher education institutions and services.

A report published in English by the Israeli Ministry of Jerusalem and Heritage indicates that 51% of official East Jerusalem schools follow the Israeli curriculum. A report by Alaa Majed, titled "Studying Hebrew in East Jerusalem: A New Direction Towards the Future" (2025), indicates a significant increase in the number of East Jerusalem students, particularly high school students, learning Hebrew as a strategic option for entering higher education institutions and participating in the job market.

This represents a gradual shift towards a cognitive framework that diverges from their national identity. Palestinian youth in Jerusalem face overlapping cultural influences, reflected in their entertainment, clothing, music, and social behavior, becoming part of their daily lives. Due to geographical proximity and constant contact with the Israeli environment, these influences gradually permeate their psychological and cultural makeup.

It is not uncommon to see some young people gravitating towards contemporary Israeli music, frequenting cafes with Hebrew menus, or adopting clothing styles reminiscent of Tel Aviv. These phenomena do not necessarily reflect a voluntary attraction to Western culture, but rather a forced openness to a dominant cultural model that may appear modern on the surface, but which weakens the symbolic structure of Palestinian identity.

This unbalanced interaction does not produce a healthy cultural exchange, but rather perpetuates a kind of soft hegemony that reshapes the cultural inclinations, aesthetic standards, and behaviors of young people, in the absence of strong Palestinian institutions capable of offering alternatives. Often, what appears to be an individual choice or an openness to the outside world may conceal a gradual loss of belonging and an erosion of the foundations of Palestinian cultural identity, especially when critical awareness and authentic cultural alternatives are lacking.

While outward expressions of identity, such as clothing or music, remain personal and subject to change, these external changes indicate a deeper and more profound disconnection from the cultural world in which their parents or grandparents lived. This disconnection reflects radical shifts in belonging and identity, as the new generation faces challenges in preserving cultural heritage amidst renewed and dominant cultural influences, particularly given the political and social conditions they experience.

Therefore, what appears to be a superficial change in appearances is in fact an expression of a deeper crisis in the relationship between generations and the original culture, which raises questions about how to preserve national identity under these increasing pressures.

In his autobiographical novel, *Arab Dancers* (2011), originally written in Hebrew and translated into Arabic and published in 2011, writer and journalist Sayed Kashua embodies this cultural tension. Kashua tells the story of a Palestinian teenager attending an elite Israeli boarding school. The novel reflects a double alienation: between a Palestinian environment to which he no longer belongs and an Israeli society that does not fully accept him. In a farewell essay published in English in Haaretz (2014), Kashua writes, “I have lost my little war… I no longer see any hope in a world where my children can live in coexistence between Arabs and Israeli Jews.”

These words encapsulate a feeling common among many young people in Jerusalem: a sense of marginalization and a loss of hope in the possibility of fully belonging to either world. Academic studies indicate that this disturbance in national and cultural identity stems from the constant oscillation between two fundamentally different cultures, exacerbating the individual's state of division and internal conflict.

These studies also reveal that students from East Jerusalem suffer from culture shock, language barriers, and a sense of isolation. These are not merely passing disturbances, but rather indicators of a profound rupture in their experience of belonging and identity. In light of these transformations, the question of cultural identity is no longer a theoretical matter, but a daily struggle waged by Palestinian youth to preserve what remains of their heritage in a city being silently reshaped.

What sometimes appears to be a change in appearance or lifestyle masks fundamental shifts in cultural references and affiliations, posing major challenges to new generations in how to safeguard their identity in the face of a dominant culture that permeates without any real institutional resistance.

Linguistic Alienation: The Suppression of the Arabic Language Linguistic alienation is one of the most impactful forms of alienation in the experience of Palestinian youth, as it is not merely a means of communication, but rather the very essence of identity and cultural belonging. Arabic, the primary repository of Palestinian heritage, is gradually declining in favor of Hebrew, especially among young people in Jerusalem, due to the increasing shift towards Israeli schools and educational institutions that use Hebrew as the main language. Even in Palestinian schools, Hebrew has become essential for understanding daily life, from using public transportation and navigating the job market to interacting with official institutions.

This trend is even more pronounced in higher education, where a large number of Palestinian students enroll in Israeli universities, where Arabic is often limited to language courses, deepening linguistic alienation and gradually marginalizing the Arabic language. An academic study conducted by researcher Rabah Halabi from the Hebrew University on issues of integration, language, and identity among Palestinian students in Israeli universities and institutes revealed that 70% of Palestinian students feel that the university environment does not reflect their linguistic and cultural identity. This deepens their sense of isolation on campus and diminishes the presence of their mother tongue in their daily lives.

The general environment in Jerusalem is also witnessing a rapid spread of Hebrew, even in shops and advertisements. This is gradually leading to a decline in young people's ability to fully express themselves in Arabic and contributing to the formation of a new linguistic consciousness that does not necessarily reflect their cultural and historical depth.

This linguistic coercion is not limited to the academic sphere; it also has profound psychological and social repercussions. In a study targeting Palestinian students at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, researcher Yara Saadi-Ibrahim (2021) observed these students' feeling of being mere "visitors who leave no trace" in an academic space that does not reflect their linguistic or cultural identity. This study reflects daily experiences of linguistic and cultural isolation on campus.

The economic dimension in exacerbating this phenomenon cannot be ignored. Living pressures drive many young Palestinians to seek employment opportunities in West Jerusalem or in Israeli institutions, where proficiency in Hebrew is a prerequisite for acceptance and career advancement. As a result, the need to use Hebrew in daily life, especially in professional and official contexts, is increasing, shrinking the Arabic language space for these young people and weakening their ability to accurately express their feelings and thoughts. Within Palestinian homes in Jerusalem, this linguistic shift is creating generational gaps.

Grandparents who speak only Arabic find it difficult to communicate with their grandchildren who incorporate Hebrew into their daily conversations. Classical Arabic poetry, idiomatic expressions, and even traditional humor may become unfamiliar to young people, not because they reject them, but because they lack sufficient exposure to them. This alienation is not merely a loss of vocabulary; it is a gradual separation from a culture deeply rooted in its language, with its rich proverbs, oral traditions, and profound spiritual expressions.

The Disintegration of Palestinian Society in Jerusalem: Youth at the Crossroads of Identity and Alienation The alienation experienced by Palestinian youth in Jerusalem—whether geographically, culturally, or linguistically—cannot be reduced to a mere passing effect of modernization or development. Rather, it is the product of a complex system that denies them their right to full belonging while simultaneously reshaping their identity from within. These young people are growing up in a city whose physical landscape has been radically altered, becoming alien to previous generations.

Their culture is gradually eroding in favor of the dominant culture, and their mother tongue faces the threat of becoming merely a second language. The profound repercussions of this phenomenon are evident in the growing disconnect between young people and the experiences, values, and language of their parents and grandparents, reinforcing the risk of Palestinian identity disintegration across successive generations.

Faced with this challenge, some young people are striving to reclaim their identity by engaging in social activities, cultural projects, and alternative educational initiatives that foster belonging and national awareness. Others, however, quietly retreat, succumbing to the bitter feeling that Jerusalem is no longer theirs, or perhaps never was. Recent studies underscore the fragility of this paradoxical dichotomy.

Palestinian youth in Jerusalem experience profound cultural fragmentation; they are economically integrated into Israeli society, but emotionally and politically they lack roots and stability. Their reality, therefore, is not true integration, but rather a painful alienation. Recognizing this alienation is not only a social and humanitarian necessity, but also an imperative moral obligation.

If any vision for Jerusalem is to be just and inclusive, it must begin by acknowledging the lived reality of those most vulnerable: the youth of Jerusalem, who today stand at a crossroads between loss and adaptation, between memory and change. In this context, genuine resilience in East Jerusalem cannot be discussed without linking it to serious efforts to build a more just and hopeful future for its young people. Resilience is not merely about clinging to one's place or resisting attempts at erasure; it also encompasses building the tools for cultural, psychological, and intellectual survival.

Therefore, establishing alternative educational environments, fostering vibrant cultural initiatives, and creating safe spaces for dialogue are essential elements of a future resilience project that restores young people's voice, confidence, and identity. These young people do not live in a vacuum; rather, they stand at a crossroads between amnesia and the birth of a future whose contours are yet to be defined. Acknowledging and addressing this state of alienation is not only an analytical necessity but also an urgent moral, political, and cultural imperative.

Envisioning Jerusalem as a just and inclusive city will only be complete with the restoration of its youth's dignity, recognizing them as both the bearers of memory and the pillars of the future. In conclusion, the experience of Palestinian youth in Jerusalem is not simply a reflection of urban changes, but an expression of multidimensional alienation that touches the very core of identity and belonging. Geographical shifts, cultural encroachment, and linguistic marginalization are reshaping the relationship between people and place, emptying the city of its Palestinian symbols.

To confront this reality, resisting repressive policies is insufficient; a long-term national project is needed, one that fosters alternative education and local cultural initiatives, protects the Arabic language and promotes its use in educational institutions and daily life, and creates safe and supportive spaces for dialogue among young people to preserve their cultural and historical identity.

Through these efforts, Palestinian youth in Jerusalem can reclaim their status as bearers of memory and identity and become active partners in building the city's future, instead of being victims of an imposed reality. 

References

Qashou, S. (2011). Arab Dancers. Cairo: Al-Mahrousa Center for Publishing, Press and Information Services.

Loumer, F. (2024). Under the Wall: The Mughrabi Quarter in Jerusalem – Its Life and Death 1187–1967. (Translated by Dr. Talhami).

Beirut: Institute for Palestine Studies. Majed, Alaa. (2025).

Studying Hebrew in East Jerusalem: A new direction towards the future! Amad Media.