Amidst the crumbling structures and uprooted roads of the Tulkarm refugee camp in the West Bank, a sorrowful landscape unfolds, reminiscent of the devastation seen in Gaza—hence the local nickname “Little Gaza.” However, this heart-wrenching scene is a stark reminder that Gaza's battle scars extend beyond its borders.

The anatomy of conflict is evolving in the West Bank as Israel applies familiar military strategies—tanks, airstrikes, and widespread destruction—that have long characterized its operations in Gaza. Human rights organizations, like B’Tselem, deem this the “Gazafication” of the West Bank—a worrying trend that has attracted little global attention or serious indignation.

Since the onset of military assaults in January, around 40,000 Palestinians have been forcibly displaced, marking the greatest displacement since Israel seized the territory in 1967. The ramifications of this violence ripple through generations, breeding a cycle of loss, desperation, and ultimately, anger.

On the fringes of a forbidden area, I met 12-year-old Mohammed Abdul Jalil, his voice ringing with youthful bravado. His home had been destroyed, and the military operations had shuttered his school for two months. When I asked him about his dreams for the future, he declared: “I want to be martyred,” revealing a tragic ambition forged in a crucible of violence and loss.

Local Palestinian Authority official Faisal Salameh poignantly articulated the desperation fuelling such dreams. He lamented, “Of course more kids want to be martyrs. Why would these children not love life? Because they’ve been thrown out of their homes and schools, losing all semblance of a normal existence.” The crushing sorrow of countless families like Mohammed’s amplifies the risk of a burgeoning cycle of resentment and violence.

Following a temporary cease-fire in Gaza, Israeli forces redirected their military focus to the West Bank, particularly targeting refugee camps in Tulkarm, Jenin, and Tubas. Although it is true these camps have served as havens for militants, the consequences of military actions have been dire for innocent civilians.

One such victim, Suha Mueen, stood as a testament to this destruction. After losing her home to Israeli demolition, she was left to seek refuge in another rented place that was soon commandeered by troops. “Where can we go? The mosques are already full,” she wept, her plight symbolizing the everyday suffering of Palestinians caught in the crossfire.

The Palestinian Authority, instead of serving as a stabilizing force, has also started to crack down on militants, purportedly to prove its capability to maintain order to both Israel and the U.S. Yet this effort appears to be intensifying the Palestinian Authority's unpopularity, seen by locals as ineffective and corrupt.

Surprisingly, it seems Hamas is gaining traction in the West Bank, where it symbolizes defiance against an occupying force. Polls suggest its popularity might surpass that of the Palestinian Authority, which is viewed as failing to offer tangible solutions. Thus, rather than quashing Hamas, the Israeli military operations may be sowing the very seeds of despair that fuel its growth.

As conversations about Israel annexing the West Bank emerge again, the ordinary Palestinians I encountered expressed a resigned acceptance of a status quo they feel they are already living in—one that many claim feels like annexation without the official title. Former Prime Minister Ehud Barak warns that any effort toward full annexation could prove catastrophic for Israel, effectively eroding the foundational dream of a viable and democratic Jewish state.

The shift in American foreign policy, under administrations from Trump to Biden, has left many Palestinians fearing wider repercussions as the might of the Israeli military persists in the West Bank, largely unchecked.

In this looming shadow of violence, the suffering faced by Palestinians may be heart-wrenching, but it poses an equally dire threat to Israel's own identity. As the world watches the terror escalate in the West Bank, the long-term implications of these policies could change the fabric of Israeli society itself.

As we reflect on these realities, it becomes increasingly urgent to seek a path toward peace, lest we witness the emergence of further cycles of violence that will haunt generations to come.