No Livestock, No Hajj: How War and Restrictions Have Erased Eid al-Adha Traditions in Palestine

The impact has been compounded by a severe import blockade. No fresh meat has entered Gaza for three consecutive months, and Israel has blocked the entry of live sacrificial animals altogether . A former leading livestock breeder in Gaza, who now runs a small restaurant dependent on heavily restricted frozen meat imports, told reporters bluntly: "No live animals are being allowed into Gaza at all" .

Israel's Coordinator of Government Activities in the Territories (COGAT) has stated that it facilitates imports of meat, poultry, eggs, and dairy, noting that nearly 8,000 tons of such goods were delivered in a recent month—though explicitly not including live livestock . But even frozen and processed foods remain far out of reach for the majority of the population, whose purchasing power has been crushed by war and displacement.

West Bank: settler violence and livestock theft

In the West Bank, the drivers of deprivation are both economic and physical, with livestock directly stolen from Palestinian families. On the eve of Eid, Palestinian shepherd Sameeha Rasheed in Masafer Yatta lost her family's entire herd of sheep in a pre-dawn raid by Jewish settlers. "Instead of celebrating, Rasheed has been left with nothing," a Reuters report noted, as she was also deprived of the income from selling the animals not used by her family .

The scale is vast. The Palestinian Ministry of Agriculture reports that approximately 4,000 head of livestock have been stolen by settlers since the beginning of 2026 alone . Rasheed told reporters that settlers have been carrying out near-daily attacks on shepherds in her area, including spraying pepper gas toward homes and children .

These incidents are situated within a broader escalation of settler violence. In the first three months of 2026, the number of West Bank Palestinians displaced in the context of such violence and access restrictions reached 1,697—already surpassing the total for all of 2025 . Attacks have targeted water systems, livestock, trees, homes, vehicles, schools, and mosques .

Economic collapse and inaccessible food

The absence of livestock is not the only reason sacrificial rituals are impossible. Even when a small number of animals remain—gathered at a makeshift pen in the al-Mawasi tent camp on Gaza’s southern coast—almost no one can afford to buy them . "I can't even buy bread. No meat, no vegetables," said Abdel Rahman Madi, a resident of Gaza. "The prices are astronomical" .

Markets across Gaza are eerily empty. Goods sit on dusty shelves far beyond the reach of a population devastated by war, displacement, and deepening poverty . Traditional Eid sweets, new clothes for children, and festive foods have largely disappeared from daily life. "There's no food, no signs, nothing that tells you Eid is here," one resident said. "We eat rice and macaroni when we can find it" .

A holiday reshaped by displacement and loss

With the core rituals of sacrifice and charity severed, Palestinians are grasping for whatever gestures of normalcy they can manage.

Prayers in the rubble: Most mosques in Gaza are damaged or destroyed. This year, residents have again been forced to perform Eid prayers in small open-air spaces, streets, and tents in displacement centers .

Decoration in tents: Thousands of families live in displacement shelters or damaged homes. In an act of resilience, women like Om Mohammed Ashour hang colorful ribbons and paper decorations inside their tents to create a festive atmosphere for their children. "Life is very hard, but we want to bring a little joy to our children after everything they have been through," she said .

Children's play among ruins: Without new toys or safe spaces, children play on makeshift seesaws in bomb sites and chase each other through rubble—their games reflecting an environment dominated by war and loss . Families try to dress their children in whatever new clothes can be found, retaining one small fragment of tradition.

Hajj barred: The holiday is doubly severed for Gazans, who are also blocked from performing the Hajj pilgrimage this year due to ongoing Israeli border closures, breaking a second pillar of the religious observance .

For many, the absence of sacrifice is not a question of affordability but of existence. "There is no Eid anyway in Gaza," one resident said. "Gaza is deprived of everything" .

The Festival of Sacrifice, meant to embody charity, community, and shared abundance, has been reduced to a day of survival. But amid the deprivation, families continue to pray, children find ways to play, and mothers hang ribbons in tents—small, determined acts that refuse to let the holiday disappear entirely.