Fifty years after the Israeli seizure of the West Bank during the six-day war in 1967, the physical signs of occupation have become an embedded and dominating part of the landscape.

For Palestinians – whether they live in Jerusalem’s Old City, the south Hebron Hills, or further north in Nablus or the Jordan valley – daily life is hemmed in by Jewish settlements.

The Israeli separation wall looms over the terrain, and at checkpoints along Route 60 security forces man terminals and guard the bus stops at the main junctions.

These images, captured in the weeks leading up to the 50th anniversary of the occupation, show scenes from daily life for Palestinians in the West Bank, marked by segregation and control.

4.30am: Checkpoint 300, Bethlehem

Palestinian workers queue to go through Checkpoint 300 in Bethlehem to work in Israel Photograph: Peter Beaumont/The Guardian

Palestinian workers at Checkpoint 300 Photograph: Peter Beaumont/The Guardian

One of the main crossing points for Palestinian labourers entering Israel, Checkpoint 300 in Bethlehem has long queues from the early hours. Outside the entrance lanes, street vendors sell coffee, tea and food to the workers, some of whom have travelled from villages an hour away in the south Hebron Hills, getting up at 3am. On busy days, when the passage is slow, some climb on to the bars to pass over the heads of the men below, and jump to the front of the line.

Murad Wash, 34, installs floors in Jerusalem. “Today is one of the better days,” he says, drinking his tea and watching the steady stream of workers. “The line is moving quickly. The problem when it is slow is if there is a pick-up time with a car on the other side. If you miss that you have to pay for a taxi.”



“It is like being in a zoo,” he adds, nodding towards the barred lane and turnstiles that access the main part of the checkpoint. “People just want to feel human and have a good life, like anywhere else.”

6am: the Israeli separation wall at dawn, Route 60

The separation wall near Bethlehem’s Checkpoint 300 Photograph: Peter Beaumont/The Guardian

7.30am: the south Hebron Hills

Each school day, eight or so children walk the kilometre from their homes to their village school in the south Hebron Hills past the fence of the Jewish settlement of Maon. Attacks by the settlers on the children have led the Israeli military to provide an escort, which waits by the end of the settlements for the children to arrive.

The soldiers are supposed to walk with the children but in recent months have followed in their vehicle. Sometimes they are late, and that is when the children have been harassed.

Guy Butavia, an Israeli activist with the Taayush non-governmental organisation, and Italian volunteers walk with the children too. “Things were even more problematic before 2012. They have calmed down a bit since then, but incidents still happen, the last time a week and a half ago.”

He points to one of the hills where, 400 metres away, one of the settlers is watching and speaking into a phone. The children wait where the path passes the settlement fence for the Israeli soldiers to arrive, and a girl draws a hopscotch grid in the dust. They set off again when the vehicle arrives.

11am: Rachel’s Tomb, Bethlehem

A young Palestinian checks his phone while painting the separation wall in Bethlehem to make space on the wall for tourists to spray their own messages near the new hotel set up by the British graffiti artist Banksy Photograph: Peter Beaumont/The Guardian

Built in 2002, this section of Israel’s separation wall is famous for its graffiti, including street art by Banksy, and has become a magnet for tourists visiting the West Bank city.



Usama Nicola works with Wi’am, the Palestinian Conflict Transformation Centre, which has its office next to this section of the wall and which organises tours and educational events.

“We’ve been doing tours since the wall was completed in August 2002. Many people come to the West Bank and to Bethlehem to see the wall. People come to understand for themselves. They want to hear the other side of the story.

“The Israelis say they have built it for security. But people don’t believe it was built for security. At least that’s not its main purpose. It was built for annexation. But I believe this wall will be removed, in 10 years, 15 years. It will not last for ever, because injustice will not last for ever.”



Outside his kiosk, a few steps away, Hamoud Abdullah watches the wall being painted white for those who want to leave messages.



“We paint the wall, then we have spray cans to allow people to write what they feel about the wall.” He quickly adds: “Of course, it’s not to make the wall pretty.”

11.30am: Scouts’ drum band in Ramallah

A Palestinian drum band in Ramallah on Nakba Day in May Photograph: Peter Beaumont/The Guardian

While Israelis celebrate the creation of their state in 1948, Palestinians mark it as the Nakba (the catastrophe) – an event that led many to flee their homes to Gaza and the West Bank and to Jordan and elsewhere in the region. The annual parade in Ramallah is accompanied by Scout bands.

Raida Zaidan Auttina, 50, works for the ministry of education and is the regional Scout organiser for Ramallah governate. “There was a camp in Jordan last year. Six to eight Scouts were supposed to go from each of the governates, but we couldn’t get there because of the situation.”

4.30pm: Muslim Quarter of Jerusalem’s Old City

Israeli border police stand guard in the lanes of the Muslim Quarter of Jerusalem’s Old City, captured 50 years ago in 1967 during the six-day war Photograph: Peter Beaumont/The Guardian

6.15pm: Damascus Gate, Jerusalem’s Old City

Israeli flags at the Damascus Gate into the Muslim Quarter of Jerusalem’s Old City on the 50th anniversary of its capture by Israeli paratroopers in 1967 Photograph: Peter Beaumont/The Guardian

Jerusalem Day – and the flag march by religious Jews and settlers through the lanes of the Muslim Quarter of the Old City – has become an annual event to mark what they describe as the reunification of the city in 1967. It is a territorial assertion secured by hundreds of police.

Palestinians are told to close their shops and stay indoors. The teenagers on the march hammer on the metal doors and shout: “Jerusalem is ours!” Men blow rams’ horns as they march to the Western Wall, by Judaism’s holiest site. Others sing and dance.

8.30pm: demonstration at Qalandia checkpoint, Ramallah

Palestinian paramedic volunteers watch a young stone thrower with his slingshot as they get ready for an evening demonstration Photograph: Peter Beaumont/The Guardian

Clashes between Palestinian teenagers and Israeli security forces have become so familiar since the first intifada between 1987-93 that images of incidents have almost become cliched. Almost a rite of passage, sometimes the confrontations seem like a game, until a sponge-tipped bullet or a Ruger rifle round hits one of the teenagers, or canisters of teargas drop in their midst.

This evening, residents of al-Am’ari refugee camp in Ramallah have marched to the Qalandia checkpoint to show solidarity with hundreds of Palestinian prisoners on hunger strike in Israeli jails.

The procession starts late. Night has fallen before the marchers reach the point where the clashes take place. Paramedics mill and chat around their vehicles. Then a pick-up truck arrives to drop off the tyres that will be burned by the youths.

The confrontations begin. Soon the streets smell of gas and the sound of intermittent rounds snaps in the darkness. With no resolution between the two sides in sight, another day in the occupation comes to an end.