“Closing Burj al-Luqluq means closing the spirit and life of children in the Old City. Closing it is a message of ending everything Arab and Jerusalemite in the Old City and reinforcing the oppressive measures against Jerusalemites.”1 Montaser Idkedek, director of the Burj al-Luqluq Social Center Society, shared his thoughts on Israel’s recent closure of the institution he has spent years overseeing.

Located in the Bab Hutta neighborhood of the Old City, Burj al-Luqluq Social Center Society was forcibly shut by Israeli forces on February 17, 2026, the day before Ramadan started in Palestine, for an initial period of six months, subject to extension.2 The institution has long provided a unique space for the Old City’s Palestinian community—mostly children—to engage in sports, educational, and social activities.

Idkedek sees the closure as part of Israel’s broader systematic campaign to empty the Old City of its Palestinian inhabitants. “This closure is the start of something bigger and more significant, and all Jerusalem institutions are waiting to see what new Israeli measures will be taken against them,” he said.

On Tuesday, February 17, 2026, a large number of police and intelligence agents in civilian clothes stormed the center, which is adjacent to the ancient walls of Jerusalem’s Old City and is surrounded by a Jewish settlement outpost. Without prior warning, Israeli forces ordered the employees and everyone present to leave the premises, affixed the closure order issued by the far-right Minister of National Security Itamar Ben-Gvir, and sealed all the doors of the organization with red wax and iron.

The scene deeply saddened Mohammed Abu Shahin, 11, who lives near the center. He couldn’t contain himself, and burst into tears. This center is his entire life; he usually spends long hours there every day playing, studying, and socializing with other children. “I’m so sad,” he said. “I feel like my heart will stop, because this place is my second home.”3

The Burj al-Luqluq Social Center Society was founded in 1991. The land on which it is built covers about 9.5 dunums (approximately 1.5 acres) and includes sports facilities and other amenities. This makes it the largest open space for youth in the Old City, overlooking the al-Aqsa Mosque. The center provides various services for free to all segments of Jerusalem society, and to the residents of the Old City in particular.

Idkedek told Jerusalem Story, “We erect the largest lantern in Jerusalem every year to celebrate the holy month of Ramadan, along with various festivities for women and children after the nightly tarawih prayers at al-Aqsa Mosque. But this year, even before Ramadan began, the Israeli police informed us that this long-standing traditional activity was completely prohibited. A few days later, they shut down the center.”

The last activities at the center were Ramadan-themed events, such as distributing lanterns, preparing qatayef, and making prayer beads.

The closure of the center is a clear indication that this year’s Ramadan will be unlike any other. Israeli police also banned Ramadan decorations in the Old City’s alleyways—a long-standing tradition in the ancient city. These bright, colorful decorations typically illuminate the Old City, spreading light and festiveness, dispelling the gloom that pervades it throughout the rest of the year.

Authorities also forbade large groups from bringing food into al-Haram al-Sharif, which torpedoes one of the loveliest community moments of the year, when families gather with their various dishes spread across the mosque courtyard and break their fasts together as soon as the Ramadan cannon fires. 

The musaharati is a traditional volunteer role that is believed to date back to the time of the Prophet Muhammad. Derived from the word suhur, the musaharati chants and drums through the streets in the predawn hours, serving as a kind of community alarm clock to wake people for their predawn meal. He typically chants words such as, “O you who are sleeping, wake up and say God is one,” and “Life does not last forever, so fast in Ramadan.” It’s a traditional role that spread across the Islamic world for centuries.

Starting around 2018, after the Trump administration recognized Jerusalem as the capital of Israel, Jerusalem authorities began cracking down on the musaharatis and arresting them, due to complaints from settlers who live in the Old City.4 By now, the role is no longer allowed in the Old City and even in other Muslim neighborhoods elsewhere in the city, according to anonymous sources who spoke with Jerusalem Story.

As Palestinian Jerusalemite activist Ahmad al-Safadi, who was banned from al-Aqsa Mosque for six months, told Jerusalem Story: “Israel doesn’t want us to celebrate Ramadan as it should be, as Jerusalem should be during this holy month. They don’t want us to bring smiles to our children’s faces.”5

He added, “The situation in Jerusalem is extremely difficult with the Israeli measures that have robbed Ramadan of its spirit. This year’s Ramadan feels soulless. It’s truly a shame.”

In the months leading up to Ramadan, Israeli authorities had been issuing copious orders to individual Palestinians, banning them from entering al-Aqsa Mosque for various periods, generally until after Ramadan. In fact, more than 250 people received such bans in 2026 alone, including 38 staff members of the Waqf Department6 (see Israel Is Banning More and More Palestinian Figures from Entering al-Aqsa Mosque on Arbitrary Grounds). According to the Waqf Department, five of its staff were placed under administrative detention in the first week of Ramadan as well.

The remaining Waqf employees were also forbidden to carry out some of their standard preparations for the month of Ramadan, such as installing shelters from the sun or rain and setting up temporary field medical clinics. A paramedic named Saifuddin Abu Jum’ah, a resident of Jerusalem, was also banned from al-Aqsa Mosque for six months.7

Then, on the evening of February 16, 2026, just two days before Ramadan started, the imam of the mosque, Sheikh Mohammed al-Abbasi, was detained and served with a weeklong banning order right on the grounds of al-Haram al-Sharif itself.8 He was one of six imams to be served with such bans.

Professor Abdul Rahman Musa, 45, prayed throughout the night that he would be able to enter al-Aqsa Mosque on the first Friday of Ramadan. He told his children that he would travel to Jerusalem from the Palestinian neighborhood of al-‘Isawiyya, and that if entry was not allowed, as had happened on many Fridays throughout the year, he would return home, hoping that God would at least reward him for making an attempt.

As soon as he reached Damascus Gate, Musa was surprised by the large number of police and border guards lined up in the middle of the street and along the sides of the road, checking worshippers heading toward al-Aqsa Mosque. Despite more than five checkpoints that were specially set up from the bus station on Nablus Street to the entrance of al-Aqsa Mosque, Israeli forces did not actually stop anyone. Musa could not believe he entered al-Aqsa Mosque without being stopped once.

“It’s a strangely beautiful feeling to enter al-Aqsa Mosque without being stopped by a policeman for any reason,” he said, “or having them ask you to search your pockets or lift your shirt to expose your stomach. I thanked God profusely that I was able to enter on a Friday during this blessed month.”9

Musa added, “I immediately called my sisters and told them to come to al-Aqsa. I told them there are no checkpoints or barriers.”

According to figures from the Islamic Waqf Department, more than 80,000 worshippers prayed at al-Aqsa Mosque on the first Friday of Ramadan this year.10 While this is a high number compared to other Fridays throughout the year, it is low relative to first Friday prayers during Ramadan in previous years. The preacher on this first Friday in Ramadan spoke about the importance of Ramadan, calling on people “to be present at al-Aqsa, to protect it, and to respect its sanctity.”

Musa took a seat under a small olive tree in the eastern courtyard of the mosque, explaining that he would remain until the afternoon prayer and then depart for al-‘Isawiyya, as this opportunity may not present itself again next week. He added: “We in Jerusalem live in a time of anxiety and uncertainty.”

Palestinians from outside the city elsewhere in the West Bank also faced uncertainty regarding whether Israeli forces would grant them access to enter Jerusalem on the first Friday of Ramadan this year. Some were lucky. Among them was Abu Muhammad, 70, from the town of Beit ‘Awwa in the Hebron Governorate. He said that despite the overcrowding at the Israeli checkpoint at the entrance to Bethlehem, only a few were actually allowed to enter, including him.

He hurried toward al-Aqsa Mosque, even though he had arrived early:

He held prayer beads in his right hand and thanked God for allowing him to participate in Friday prayers at al-Aqsa Mosque during Ramadan.

The Israeli army had announced that it would allow no more than 10,000 holders of PA IDs to come to al-Aqsa Mosque for Friday prayers for a few hours, and after obtaining the necessary permits and obtaining security clearance. According to the army’s criteria, only men aged over 55, women over 50, and children under 12 accompanied by a first-degree relative were allowed to enter the city and pray. Their permits only granted them a few short afternoon hours in the city, after which they had to hasten back through the checkpoint and provide biodata such as an eye scan or a fingerprint to prove they had, in fact, returned on time.

At the Lions’ Gate (Bab al-Asbat), the closest gate to al-Aqsa Mosque from outside the Old City, thousands of worshippers streamed in. They finished their Friday prayers peacefully and with indescribable joy. Many were keen to buy Jerusalem’s famous ka‘ek (see Ka‘ek al-Quds: What’s the Secret?), even if it was not fresh, to bring back as gifts to their families in the West Bank unable to enter Jerusalem.

They also bought Turkish delights from vendors who had set up tents along the route from the Lions’ Gate to the Wadi al-Joz neighborhood, where their buses waited to take them back to their towns and villages. They thanked God for their being able to perform the first Friday prayer of Ramadan in the holiest place in Jerusalem for Muslims, and they all wondered what next Friday’s return to Jerusalem and al-Aqsa Mosque would be like.