“The Will to Run, Little Space to Move:” Jerusalemite Palestinians Make Headway at the Palestinian Marathon

After a two-year suspension, the in-person Palestine Marathon kicked off in its 10th edition on May 8, 2026. The race started from the Manger Square, near the Church of the Nativity, in Bethlehem. About 18,000 people participated, with close to 13,000 in-person runners and around 5,000 others participating in virtual runs around the world.

The slogan for the 2026 Palestine Marathon was “Run for Freedom,” with the aim of highlighting Palestinians’ lack of freedom of movement while contributing to the Palestinian tourism sector and general economy. Mainly, however, the idea behind the marathon—as explained on the Palestine Marathon website—is to establish a running culture among Palestinians.

Bearing in mind the increasing militarized borders, with more than 225 new checkpoints installed as of October 2023, the new color-coded gates erected all over the West Bank, and the Separation Wall all fueling “closure, restrictions on mobility, and the permit regime scaffolding,”1 it is remarkable that anyone would dare to run under these circumstances. In addition to the dangerous political situation, social norms also do not help create a running community. However, runners have been on the increase: Compared to a decade ago, when hardly a couple of hundred people—most of whom were foreigners—cared for running, the numbers have now reached thousands of Palestinians, over 50 percent of whom are women, according to the Palestine Marathon website.

But to get a good idea about the Palestine Marathon and the running communities across the areas, it is important to recognize how it all began . . . with the “Right to Movement.”

In late 2012, the “Right to Movement” grassroots project was founded by two Danish women (Signe Smidt and Laerke Hein) and a Palestinian Jerusalemite man (George Zeidan). The seemingly simple idea soon turned into something beyond exceptional: the groups of volunteers expanded, with solid networks enabling successful campaigns that allowed for organizing serious training runs, participation opportunities, and athletes’ investments. RTM hosted countless events, including runs, hikes, and retreats. It also organized solidarity marches, awareness-raising campaigns, gala dinners, and environmental jogs both locally and across the globe.2 With eye-opening themes such as “run the wall,” they managed to gather funds that drew worldwide participation. They also managed to send delegations of runners to various marathons locally, regionally, and internationally.

RTM made exceptional headways with the creation of community athlete groups (also known as local chapters) in cities including Bethlehem, Jerusalem, Ramallah, Hebron, Haifa, and Gaza. It had in fact been the leadership of RTM that helped initiate and organize the first Palestine Marathon in 2013, which it led for three consecutive years before it was later adopted at the national [Palestinian Authority (PA)] level.

As with everything else in this corner of the world, George Zeidan explains, the Palestinian running groups, marathons, and the mere act of running are all quite political.3 After all, the name “Right to Movement” emanated from the fact that Palestinians do not have the space to go freely on their feet: Bethlehem’s running route (or lack thereof) is a symbol of restricted movement of an imprisoned population, seeing that military restrictions block the way and impede access of Palestinian residents. Technically, if runners are to complete a full distance marathon of 42 km in Bethlehem, they would have to repeat the same 10.5 km four times to complete it.4

Sari,5 an active member of RTM Jerusalem, ran his first half-marathon in Bethlehem in 2026, with an impressive score of about two hours. As he explains it, being a runner has given him the exceptional ability of precisely estimating a one-kilometer distance, which makes him think of just how close Bethlehem is to Jerusalem. “I can tell you with accuracy that if I were to run from my house in Beit Safafa to the heart of Bethlehem’s Nativity Church,” he explains, “it would take three kilometers. That’s it.” Banksy’s Walled Off Hotel, which is just ahead of the checkpoint and directly beside the Separation Wall, is only one kilometer away. In other words, it is an average five-minute run if all obstacles were marginally cleared away.

But to run from Jerusalem to Bethlehem would be impossible due to the military reality on the ground, namely with Checkpoint 300, its large metal gate, a series of tunnels and turnstiles, and armed Israeli soldiers in the vicinity and others ready to scan the documents of passersby, with the required licenses and permits to enter.

As Sari explains it, the military reality has become so overwhelming (not to mention time-consuming and heart-wrenching) that most Palestinians doubt the distance from Jerusalem to Bethlehem is less than three kilometers. Beyond the heavily armed and restricted physical space, “people’s imagination, too, seems to have become constricted,” he says. “Meanwhile, the proximity is so close that if it weren’t for the made-up restrictions, Bethlehem could easily be considered part of Jerusalem,” he explains.

Sondus Mohder, 20-year-old basketball coach from Jerusalem’s Wadi al-Joz neighborhood, ranked second place at the Bethlehem Marathon’s full-distance race in the women’s category this year. Being from Jerusalem, she shared that it is extremely difficult for her to come to terms with the fact that most Palestinian runners are not allowed to join any of her daily jogs. Palestinians of Jerusalem may run in Bethlehem, but Palestinians of Bethlehem (and elsewhere within the confines of the West Bank) would not be allowed to run in Jerusalem. This is because of the privileges and restrictions that come with their respective IDs: Israeli (residents or citizens) (for Jerusalemites) or PA (for Bethlehemites) (see Precarious Status).

“When I share stories [on social media],” Sondus says, “the most common remarks I get are from people wishing they were able to step foot in these streets of Jerusalem. They have so little space,” she explains. “It makes me uncomfortable to know that they’re so close and yet deprived of reaching Jerusalem.”6

Speaking of uncomfortable, Jerusalemite Palestinian runners have expressed their sense of unease in even considering to run the Israeli marathon in Jerusalem, organized by the Israeli Jerusalem Municipality. Besides the discriminatory policies and the event’s slogans highlighting “the Jewish unity of Jerusalem,” the fact that the majority of Palestinians are banned from entering Jerusalem is enough to shake their complacency. Added to that, many of the Israeli marathon’s routes are considered occupied territory under international law—therefore showcasing the geopolitical domination, and endorsing Israeli control and dismissal of the Palestinian population. As well, the city tends to close off Palestinian neighborhoods to facilitate the runners’ route, adding to the sense that this is not an event that Palestinian residents are truly welcome to join.7

As George Zeidan explains it, each of RTM’s community groups have their own sets of challenges pertaining to its distinct geopolitical realities, thus representing the specific characters of the fragmented areas. Palestinian Jerusalemite runners, as an example, get to see how constricted the general space really is: They can visibly see the checkpoints, the separation, depopulation, and settlement expansion, and get a good insight into the displacement of people from their neighborhoods (such as in Lifta, Sataf, Silwan, and Sheikh Jarrah). Moreover, he explains that Jerusalemites cannot visibly put on T-shirts or sweaters that may contain the word “Palestine” (let alone feature the Palestinian flag) as that could lead to severe punishment—with the probability of getting arrested—in Jerusalem. “It’s almost like one has to hide his or her own identity,” he explains.

Samer Jolani, 40, from Ras al-‘Amud neighborhood of Jerusalem, won first place at the Palestine Marathon in Bethlehem on May 8, 2026. This was the first time a Jerusalemite Palestinian won this race. His chip time was 03:10:10.8

A father of four with a very tight schedule in full-time pharmaceutical work, Samer makes use of each break and every extra time in the evening to train: “I am lucky that my wife is so understanding,” he mentions.9 Having so diligently invested in his running capabilities, Samer is clearly pleased with the result he achieved, but he had also hoped for more backing, future visioning, or national sponsoring. He shared that, aside from family, friends, RTM fellow runners, and this interview with Jerusalem Story—hardly anyone followed up with him after the marathon ended. “Sport is key, yet it is still not being taken seriously enough.”

Despite the lack of sponsorship opportunities (aside from the efforts of RTM,) Samer highlights the fact that “running itself is therapy.” His drive, discipline, stamina, and perseverance have all yielded impressive results.

Comparing Samer’s scores across the years, anyone wondering whether it is “too late to start running” will be prompted to reconsider: He won first place in 2026 at the age of 40, with the finish time of 03:10:10.10 A decade ago, in 2016, his finish time was 03:52:51.11

Samer had also delivered improved results in 2019, with his end time being 03:04:36. This had set the record for the highest Palestinian score, and fourth highest overall score [after three foreign participants.] “This year’s win was the right chance, and the right time,” he reflects.

As far as motivation goes, he is living proof that age is not a deterrent to runners: In 2015, when Samer was barely 30 years old, his time for the half-marathon was 02:02:04; in 2017, only two years after, his gun time was 01:29:52.12

Samer mentions another impressive athlete from Jerusalem: Naji Abu Dhaim (Abu Khaled), 67, from Jabal Mukabbir neighborhood. A diligent and consistent runner, Abu Khaled’s chip time at the marathon in Bethlehem this year was 01:40:0—landing him first place at the half-marathon for his age group.

“Running is a spiritual activity,” Sondus shares. She adds that she most enjoys running at the break of dawn, right after fajr prayer, when “no people bother me in the street.” Running in the wee hours of the morning can be quite spiritual and therapeutic, she reflects: “Running has had a remarkable way in making me a better person, not only for myself but for the society at large.” She notices that it has made her feel more mature, empowered, and resilient.

“Running a full marathon is beyond tiring,” Samer admits. As of 2019, he had undergone several injuries, including to his knees. There were long months when he had to stop fully, but he persisted regardless: “It is a type of addiction,” he says, adding that it keeps him young, which also happens to be great for his kids, who enjoy joining him in recreational activities and have recently been joining him in his lighter runs.