The air in Beit Fajjar tastes of chalk. Here, south of Bethlehem, the landscape is scarred by deep, terraced cuts where men and machines wage a daily battle against the earth. Amidst the deafening roar of diamond-tipped saws slicing through limestone, Faraj al-Atrash surveys his quarry.

To the untrained eye, it is just a pit of white dust. To Atrash, and thousands of Palestinian families, it is survival. "This here is considered the main source of revenue for the entire region," Atrash noted, gesturing to the armada of yellow excavators eating away at the sheer rock walls.

But the dust settling on Atrash’s shoulders carries the weight of a deepening crisis. The famed "Jerusalem stone"—the pale, luminous rock that clads holy sites and luxury homes from Tel Aviv to New York—is under siege. Caught between the catastrophic economic fallout of the ongoing regional conflict and tightening Israeli military restrictions, the West Bank’s most vital industry is fighting for breath.

The Economics of ‘White Gold’

Often referred to as Palestine’s "White Gold," the stone and marble industry is the backbone of the West Bank economy. It is a sector that historically generates hundreds of millions of dollars annually—roughly $450 million (approx. KES 58.5 billion)—and employs up to 20,000 workers.

For a Kenyan reader, the significance is comparable to the tea sector in the Rift Valley: a primary export that puts food on the table for entire communities. The stone quarried here defines the architectural soul of the region, mandated by municipal laws in Jerusalem to preserve the city’s ancient aesthetic.

Yet, Atrash, a man in his fifties, warned that this lifeline is fraying. "Our livelihood is constantly under threat," he emphasized. "Lately, I feel like the occupation has begun to fight us on the economic front."

A Livelihood in the Crosshairs

The threats Atrash cites are not merely market fluctuations; they are existential and geopolitical. Most of the West Bank’s stone reserves lie in "Area C," the 60% of the territory under full Israeli civil and military control.

According to human rights organizations and industry unions, Israel has ceased issuing new permits for Palestinian quarries in these zones for decades. This bureaucratic deadlock leaves operators like Atrash in a precarious gray zone, facing constant risks:

• Equipment Confiscation: Israeli authorities frequently seize expensive machinery—bulldozers and excavators worth millions of shillings—citing a lack of permits.
• Settlement Expansion: As Israeli settlements expand, they often encroach on Palestinian quarrying land, further squeezing the industry.
• Export Paralysis: Since the escalation of violence in October 2023, checkpoints and closures have made moving stone to ports or into Israel—the primary buyer—logistically nightmarish.

Resilience in a Collapsing Economy

The pressure on the quarries comes at a time when the broader Palestinian economy is in freefall. The conflict has severed access to jobs inside Israel for over 100,000 Palestinian day laborers, leaving the domestic stone industry as one of the few remaining engines of employment.

Reports from global bodies like the UN Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD) have described the economic situation in the West Bank as "catastrophic," with GDP contracting sharply since late 2023. In this context, every block of stone pulled from the earth in Beit Fajjar represents a refusal to collapse.

For Atrash, the math is simple, even if the politics are impossible. He fears the loss of his machines and the strangulation of his trade, but the saws keep spinning. In a land where history is written in stone, the men of Beit Fajjar are determined to keep cutting it.