One of Jerusalem’s most defining features in Ramadan is the proliferation of stalls in every corner of the city, both inside and outside the Old City walls. These stalls sell bread in its various forms, along with colorful juices ranging from bright lemon yellow and carob brown to the white of almond juice and the electric orange of carrot and orange juices.

Within the Old City walls, these colors, combined with the tempting varieties of breads, create a cozy and sentimental atmosphere brimming with tranquility. This mingles with the aroma of falafel and freshly baked ka‘ek permeating the ancient alleyways. Especially on Fridays during Ramadan, all visitors to Jerusalem make sure to indulge in the city’s baked goods from the stalls scattered along the roads leading to al-Aqsa Mosque.

This is what Hajja Umm Mahmoud, a 65-year-old from Kufr Kanna in the Galilee, does. She says she cannot leave Jerusalem without buying several golden loaves of bread from one of the stalls at the Lions’ Gate to bring home. She says: “My son, this bread is blessed by Jerusalem. That’s why, especially during Ramadan, I make sure to have Jerusalem bread on the iftar table and that it’s the first thing I eat, for the blessing that comes from Jerusalem through bread, which is a gift from God.”1

Nafiz Asila, a well-known social activist and resident of the Old City, who makes a point of wandering through all the alleyways to absorb the atmosphere and beauty of the holy month of Ramadan, explains that a loaf of bread is not just an item on the table, but a witness to the complexity and simplicity of life, a story that tells of migration, diversity, and inheritance.

He adds: “During Ramadan, the city of Jerusalem witnesses a great diversity in the types of bread available.”2 Culturally and historically, Jerusalem’s religious significance and its welcoming of Muslim visitors from around the world have contributed to its diverse bread traditions. Locals are keen to revive these centuries-old customs, offering a wide variety of breads that are only found in such abundance and diversity during Ramadan.

These include shrak bread, local tabun bread, Iraqi tabun bread, bread mixed with sunflower seeds, braided bread, French baguettes, and fino bread, among others, suitable for both iftar and suhur. “In my view,” Asila continues, “this diversity, especially during Ramadan, reflects the depth of Jerusalem’s history and the richness of its culture. It is not merely a variety of food, but a complete artistic, social, and religious phenomenon.”

Bread is a staple of the Ramadan table. Dr. Ali Qleibo, a professor of sociology at Al-Quds University and author of numerous books, writes about bread and its significance in Ramadan:

The aroma of fresh bread entices the fasting person to dip the bread in hummus and olive oil with some pickles and olives, and to savor its taste with vegetables in a plate of fattoush. Due to the importance of dipping and the necessity of bread in all dishes, bread is the cornerstone of all meals, whether it be tabun bread, regular kamaj, or shrak. Indeed, the most important and richest Ramadan dishes, such as fattet maqadem or fattet lahm, depend entirely on the presence of bread.

In addition to bread, “on a daily basis, two types of pastries are added during Ramadan,” Qleibo begins.4 “First, braided bread—a quintessential Jerusalem bread, distinguished by its braided shape and crisp texture, garnished with sesame seeds and nigella seeds. And second, the delicate, crispy Ramadan barazeq loaf, made without any added sugar and coated with a fine layer of sesame seeds.”

Qleibo adds: “Bread receives the utmost respect and reverence. During Ramadan, with the abundance and variety of food, other dishes might be discarded after two or three days, but bread is always set aside.” Even at lavish feasts, bread is not thrown away like other foods. Instead, it is collected and placed in a separate bag to be used as animal feed.

This year, 100,000 worshippers came to al-Aqsa Mosque to pray on the second Friday of Ramadan seeking warmth from the biting cold. For this second Friday of Ramadan, Israeli police forces, deployed in their thousands throughout every alley of the Old City, did not impose restrictions on the entry of worshippers, although they did detain several young men.

Israel treats the holy month of Ramadan as a security escalation and a threat, rather than as a month of worship, prayer, and tranquility, as Sheikh Abdul Hakim Asad from the village of al-Khadir, near Jerusalem, stated. He had reached Jerusalem for the first time in five years, while his brother, Abdullah, was unable to enter because the Israeli COGAT did not grant him an entry permit, claiming that the permit is only valid for one visit and does not allow a second return to Jerusalem, Sheikh Asad explained.

Following prayers, Sheikh Asad bought bread, cakes, and sweets for his grandchildren and bade farewell to Jerusalem, as if he might never return. He explained that another war between Israel and Iran was imminent, and that he was old and might die before being allowed to return to Jerusalem. Therefore, when he prayed in al-Aqsa, he prayed as if it were his last time.

Wiping away his tears as he spoke these words, he continued: “I hope God grants me a long life so I can come and pray again at al-Aqsa Mosque. And if I don’t, I pray that God will reward me for this visit.”5

He concluded his sorrowful words: “We have entrusted al-Aqsa Mosque to you, O sons of Jerusalem, so protect it.” He left, wrapping his black-and-white kufiyyeh around his face against the intense, bitter cold despite the bright sun.

At the Lions’ Gate, Palestinian rural women displayed a portion of their produce, hoping to earn some profit. Among them was Umm Khalil, 45, who had managed to enter Jerusalem with bunches of sage, some garlands of dried figs, and a little chard. She said that all these products are from her home in the village of Beit Ummar, near Bethlehem. She hopes to sell all her produce and return home with a little money, which she describes as blessed, because it comes from Jerusalem.

She says this is the first time she has been able to enter Jerusalem since October 7, 2023, when Israel launched its war on Gaza. Previously, she used to come and sell fresh fruits and vegetables at Damascus Gate. She adds: “I swear, I miss Jerusalem and its blessings. I swear, I miss every stone in it. May the coming days pass peacefully, and may war not break out, because everyone is talking about it, so that we can return to Jerusalem.”6

Umm Khalil did not buy bread in the city, because she bakes it at home. She preferred to take some cakes and sweets for her two sons.

In side conversations among worshippers who decided to stay at al-Aqsa Mosque for a while after prayers, the discussion revolved around the possibility of war on Iran and its impact on Palestinians. The group was divided between those who expected war and those who did not.

Like a rude awakening after the illusory moment of tranquility on Friday, Jerusalemites awoke on Saturday to the jarring news that Israel had preemptively launched missiles on Iran, and the United States soon followed.

An eerie calm descended over Jerusalem, and public life came to a standstill as everyone braced for another round of violence.

Israel emptied al-Aqsa Mosque and blocked ‘isha and tarawih prayers, then shut the holy site altogether. The war means no prayers at al-Aqsa, the closure of markets, and economic and social devastation for the people of Jerusalem. During the holy month of Ramadan, despite expectations of some return to normalcy after two years of war in Gaza, the Palestinians of Jerusalem will suffer for yet another year.