Israeli soldiers stood in dozen-person groups at the entrances Muslims use to reach Al-Aqsa, and in frequent smaller clumps all along the way. I asked one soldier stationed at the corner of Al-Wad, the street leading to the mosque, whether this Friday was any different from others, and whether he expected any problems. He smiled, and said it was the same as any other day. A few feet away, a man selling bread concurred. “Every day is a day of rage,” he told me in Arabic.

The divided city is one claimed by both Israelis (in West Jerusalem) and Palestinians (in East Jerusalem) as their capital, and American presidents have typically treated its status as an issue to be resolved through negotiations. In the wake of Trump’s announcement, people in the Palestinian half of the city are angry, but few seemed eager for the new intifada, or uprising, that some Muslim leaders are calling for.

Crowds of men began streaming into the city for midday prayers. A few older women obligingly shouted things like “Trump is bad!” when they saw the waiting crowd of foreign journalists. All was quiet for about an hour, and then the same giant crowd streamed back out, many people stopping to shop on their way back to the Damascus Gate, where the cameras were conveniently waiting.

The area outside Damascus Gate is literally set up like a stage: Big steps lead down on three sides to the lowered platform where people emerge from the Old City. A few dozen people stood on the steps and chanted in Arabic, holding a sign featuring a truck that called on America to “dump Trump” and another sign showing Trump’s lips as urinals. A throng of journalists surrounded this group, outnumbering them roughly three-to-one. As protesters moved, the cameras shifted around them, moving like a flock of birds near a power line. Most Palestinians, however, went home.

A half-mile away at the Educational Bookshop on Salah Eddin Street, Najwa Muna fussed with her coffee machine and worried. That morning, she and her husband Imad had opened their store as usual. But they had closed the previous day when young men came running by and yelling “Close, close, close!”

Palestinians in East Jerusalem have integrated with Israelis to a significant extent; they depend on Israel and its tourists for their livelihoods, so there’s a lot at stake if they decide to protest or strike.

“It’s not good for us,” Muna said. She doesn’t like strike days, when kids don’t go to school and people don’t work and they can’t open their store. It was “too dangerous” to stay open when Palestinian leadership called for a shut-down, she said. But “every time, it’s the same.”

The Munas’ store is fervently pro-Palestinian: They host speakers on the nakba, the Arabic word for “catastrophe” that Palestinians use to speak about the birth of Israel in 1948. Their bookshelves are lined with investigative journalism about human-rights abuses in Gaza, the mistakes of Zionism, and the future of Palestine. Najwa said she “shook” when she heard Trump’s announcement on television: “We feel like Jerusalem is being stolen from us,” she said. Even so, she and her husband are not looking forward to the prospect of an intifada.