“The Old City Is Breathing Its Last Breath”—Jerusalem Merchants Decry Enforced Market Closures

The markets of the Old City in Jerusalem are not accustomed to this heavy stagnation, especially during the holy month of Ramadan. The alleys that were once packed with passersby and echoed with the calls of vendors are now wider and lonelier, after shops closed and movement dwindled under the pretext of a state of emergency following the United States–Israel war on Iran that was launched on February 28, 2026. That same day, Israel closed al-Aqsa Mosque, just as the holy month of Ramadan was underway. The mosque remains closed. Israel also closed the Old City to all but those who can prove they reside there.

Between tightly shut iron doors and stalls now devoid of activity, the rhythm of life in the heart of the Old City has changed. Palestinian merchants are left watching immense inactivity decimate one of the most important and vibrant seasons of the year, leaving the Old City a ghost town.

These restrictions coincide with a massive security deployment around the mosque and the Old City, where Israeli police have imposed strict movement controls, closed several gates, and banned gatherings. The measures have even affected Waqf Department employees, directly impacting the daily administration of the mosque’s affairs. Police have also forcibly dispersed worshippers who were performing Islamic prayers outside the Old City walls, since the mosque was inaccessible.

Jerusalem Story spoke with some Palestinian merchants about the negative impact of the markets’ closure on their daily livelihoods and how it has disrupted the city’s many markets that have long formed the heart of the Old City’s economic and social life and fabric.

It was not easy to persuade merchants to talk. Some feared being pursued by authorities for expressing their opinions; others no longer believed that highlighting the story of the markets’ decline through the media could bring any change to the situation.

The JS Team managed to persuade three merchants to share their perspectives, they firmly refused to be photographed.

Abdel Karim al-Tamimi was one of the merchants who was interviewed. His family owns five shops in the Old City: four in the Cotton Merchants’ Market next to al-Aqsa Mosque, and one on al-Wad Street.

Abdel Karim appeared uneasy and spoke sparingly. He began by describing the usual bustle of the Cotton Merchants’ Market during Ramadan, especially in the final 10 days of the holy month. The market serves as a passageway to al-Aqsa, and it is the largest market with shops located in an alley that leads directly to the mosque.

“Fifty-five shops operate in the Cotton Merchants’ Market, and during Ramadan they are almost never without customers,”1 Abdel Karim said. “Today, all the doors of these shops are closed. If al-Aqsa is closed, then for whom should we open our doors?”

Abdel Karim stressed that barring worshippers from al-Aqsa Mosque effectively kills the Old City’s markets, especially the Cotton Merchants’ Market, which serves as a route for reaching Islam’s qibla (the direction that Muslims face when performing their prayers).

His family’s shops in the Cotton Merchants’ Market specialize in modest religious clothing and items used for prayer, including prayer garments, rugs, and prayer beads, in addition to gifts, Palestinian ceramic pieces, and other items.

With visible frustration, Abdel Karim explained that he and his brothers had purchased goods worth hundreds of thousands of New Israeli shekels in preparation for Ramadan sales across their five shops. Israeli police forcibly closed all the shops in the Old City from the first day of the US–Israel war on Iran. One of the stated pretexts for the closure is that there are no shelters in these shops. However, shops, cafes, and religious sites elsewhere in the city remain open, regardless of whether they have shelters or not. For example, the Israeli Mamilla Mall, just next to the Old City, has been allowed to continue operating as usual.

As a result, merchandise that vendors normally sell to visitors in the Old City, and especially worshippers heading to al-Aqsa Mosque, has piled up unsold.

Since his family’s shops were shut, Abdel Karim refuses to return to the Old City. “I can’t bear to see the Cotton Merchants’ Market empty of worshippers during Ramadan, and I can’t stand looking at the goods piled up in our shops and the warehouse with no hope of selling them,” he said.

“We have two options: either return the goods to the traders we bought from or ask them to wait until the markets reopen so we can sell them, but that could take a long time,” he added.

With the state of emergency now extended until March 26, Abdel Karim is not optimistic that his family’s shops will reopen during the remaining days of Ramadan, which ends March 19. He refuses, however, to close the shops permanently and seek a livelihood outside the Old City or the commercial sector. Instead, he is determined to keep trying, holding on to the hope of remaining steadfast near the blessed sanctuary of al-Aqsa Mosque.

Before ending the conversation, Abdel Karim spoke about his family’s fifth shop on al-Wad Street. He explained that it specializes in selling tourist souvenirs and relies entirely on the flow of visitors to the Old City. Since the coronavirus pandemic in 2020-21, followed by three successive wars since late 2023, the shop has only opened for a handful of months.

In the nearby Khan al-Zeit Market, which runs parallel to al-Wad Street, stands Za‘atra Roastery, one of the most famous roasteries in the Old City.

Jerusalem Story spoke with one of the owner’s family members, who preferred not to be named. He revealed that they had stocked large quantities of goods in anticipation of Eid al-Fitr, as roasteries are a traditional destination for Jerusalemites celebrating happy occasions.

As soon as the war broke out, however, the owners returned all the merchandise, expecting that al-Aqsa Mosque and the Old City would become immediate targets under the pretext of a “state of emergency.”

The young merchant recalled the lively Ramadan seasons of previous years. He said that usually during the final 10 days of the holy month, the sound of the machines roasting different kinds of nuts never stops, and workers are constantly packaging goods, because supplies sell out quickly as Jerusalemites begin preparing for Eid. The bustling movement in the market energizes them and motivates them to keep working despite fasting and exhaustion. This year, however, all of that vanished in the blink of an eye.

What pains him the most and deepens his sense of injustice is that restrictions on gatherings do not apply to any markets or commercial streets outside the Old City. To the merchant, this suggests a deliberate decision at the highest Israeli political level to restrict access to al-Aqsa Mosque and the markets surrounding it.

He also revealed that one of his neighbors already began clearing out his shop to return it to the landlord after he was unable to keep up with rent and various tax obligations. Another neighbor, he said, asked the landlord to grant him until after Ramadan to sell off his remaining goods before handing back the shop as well.

When asked whether the owners of Za‘atra Roastery might face the same fate, he replied: “We have two choices, and both are bitter. Either we endure and remain steadfast despite the suffocating financial crisis, or we close the roastery and leave it vulnerable to the ambitions of settlers.”2

“The busy Ramadan season usually helps merchants hold on for another year until the next season arrives. But this year, the season has been dealt with a fatal blow, and that will make it much harder for many Old City merchants to stay afloat,” he added.

In the same market stands the Kalouti jewelry shop, which has been active in the same sector for 150 years. Musa al-Kalouti has worked there alongside his father for the past 50 years, following generations of grandfathers before them.

A recent incident, however, has made him hesitant to even approach his shop.

After Israeli police forced merchants to close their shops during the first days of the war, Musa managed to return to the Old City on the sixth day. But as soon as he opened the shop doors, members of Israel’s special forces approached him and ordered him to close the shop immediately. When he asked for five minutes to shut the shop properly, an officer demanded his identification card, photographed both the card and Musa himself, and warned him that he would be issued a fine of NIS 5,000 (about $1,600) for opening the shop's door.

“I had to close the shop immediately,”3 he said. “The officer told me: We are monitoring you through the cameras. If you try to open again, you will receive a fine, either by hand or through the mailbox.”

Since then, Musa has felt effectively restrained, unable even to reach his shop to check on it or spend a few hours safeguarding the valuable goods inside.

He noted that Jerusalem’s merchants are accustomed to cycles of prosperity and decline. Markets may flourish for months or even years before suffering setbacks again, but in recent years, those setbacks have come one after another, alongside direct pressure on markets and merchants from various tax authorities, as well as municipal and police staff who issue arbitrary fines for even the smallest matters.

Describing the situation in the Old City’s markets during the current war, Musa revealed: “The Old City is taking its last breath.” Many merchants, he explained, can’t continue operation, because they rent their shops rather than own them.

Israeli authorities claim that the reason behind the closure is the absence of shelters where merchants and shoppers could take refuge when sirens sound, but Musa pointed out that all the shops outside the Old City walls and in neighborhoods across Jerusalem also lack shelters, yet none of them have been closed since the war began.

Like many others, he had prepared for the long-awaited Ramadan season, purchasing goods worth thousands of shekels to sell ahead of Eid. Jerusalemites, he explained, traditionally gift their wife gold jewelry on Eid in appreciation of their efforts during Ramadan. Those preparing for marriage also present gold to their future wives on the first day of the holiday. Others buy watches or silver jewelry for themselves to wear during the celebrations.

Now, all those goods sit unsold in the small shop. With every new war, people cut back on spending on luxuries, uncertain about what the future may bring.

Of the more than 1,000 shops in the Old City markets, only grocery stores and bakeries have been permitted to open since the war began; all other businesses remain closed. Yet despite the bleak scene, merchants say the stagnation cannot only be measured in financial losses or shuttered storefronts. It is a daily reality for traders accustomed to the hustle and bustle of the marketplace.

Between half-open doors and watchful glances awaiting the return of shoppers, hope still lingers that the markets will soon regain their familiar rhythm, and that the alleys will once again pulse with life.