Plight of Palestinian refugees stretches across five generations
As a boy, Palestinian Abdullah Abu Massoud fled the war over the birth of Israel in 1948 and sought refuge in the nearby Gaza Strip.
Now 77, Abu Massoud is the white-haired patriarch of a refugee family spanning five generations, including a great-great-granddaughter. The future looks bleak.
"Fifty years have passed without a step forward," said Abu Massoud. "We don't belong here."
The plight of Palestinians uprooted by Israeli-Arab wars is one of the world's longest-running refugee crises, and a solution would likely require setting up a state of Palestine that would take in large numbers of them. Such a solution appears distant, even as President Donald Trump says he wants to try to broker an Israeli-Palestinian agreement.
Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands of Palestinians are being displaced again by regional conflicts, including civil war in Syria. The head of the UN. Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) which helps displaced Palestinians said they are no longer the world's focus.
"We are dealing here with a community that has essentially reached a crisis of existential nature," said Pierre Kraehenbuehl.
Abdullah Abu Massoud was born in a Bedouin encampment in what is now Israel. His family fled Israeli forces during the war over Israel's creation, walking to Egyptian-run Gaza. More than 700,000 Palestinians were uprooted at the time.
Bassama, 72, said that after Israel's capture of the territory in 1967, Gaza residents began talking of leaving, fearful of what Israeli rule might bring. Israel was offering transportation to Jordan, Bassama said.
In April 1968, the Abu Massouds and other displaced Palestinians from Gaza boarded a truck to Jordan's border. From there, they took buses to an area near the town of Jerash where UNRWA was setting up a tent camp. Bassama remembers her feet sticking out of the tiny tent while she slept.
Under US proposals in previous Israeli-Palestinian talks, a Palestinian state created from lands Israel captured in 1967 would welcome families like the Abu Massouds. In addition, an agreed upon number of refugees would be allowed to return to Israel and others could opt to stay in their host countries.
But disagreements remained, and talks failed. Palestinians wanted Israel to accept moral responsibility for the plight of refugees. Israel feared this would lead to a large-scale return to Israel and dilute its Jewish majority.
There have been no serious negotiations since gaps widened with the 2009 election of Benjamin Netanyahu as Israel's prime minister. Continued Israeli settlement expansion made a partition deal more difficult
Today, 5.3 million Palestinians and their descendants are registered with UNRWA in Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, the West Bank and Gaza Strip, making them eligible for health and education services. Some in Netanyahu's government allege UNRWA and others perpetuate the refugee problem artificially. UN. officials say refugee status is typically handed down through the generations in protracted conflicts.
|Most Palestinians in Jordan received citizenship as descendants of refugees from the neighboring West Bank, which was under Jordanian control for two decades, until 1967|
This has curtailed opportunities.
Alaa Abu Awad dropped out of school because there was no payoff for an education. As a tailor, he struggles to feed his family. Business has slowed because of rising prices and unemployment. He fears he'll spend his life in the camp.
Circumstances vary for displaced Palestinians like the Abu Massouds.
Fewer than 30 percent live in UN camps. Many are poor. Others became successful; Palestinians helped drive economies in Jordan and elsewhere in the Middle East.
In Lebanon, refugees cannot access public health or schools and are barred from most skilled professions.
In Palestinian-run areas of the West Bank and Gaza, descendants of refugees have the same rights as others. Pinned down by poverty, many remain in camps, which have been hotbeds of unrest against Israel and resentment against the Palestinian ruling elite.
Life in Jerash has changed the women.
Unlike Bassama's generation, the younger women wear face veils, signaling that a more fundamentalist version of Islam is taking root. The women say being covered head to toe also offers protection in the crowded camp.
Privacy is rare. In the Abu Massoud home, Bassama typically sits on a floor cushion, overseeing young female relatives as they cook and clean.
She accepts her refugee life as fate. She did her best to provide a home for their seven children, all now married.
Bassama has no hope of return and expects to be buried in the camp's rundown cemetery.