Before 14-year-old Amr Khamour was killed, shot twice by Israeli forces as he threw rocks at a military jeep in his hometown, he spent his time dancing with friends and recording TikTok videos on his phone.
But after his death in January, his parents found a photo of a handwritten farewell message on his phone. “If I come to you a martyr, God willing,” he wrote to his mother, “don’t cry. And forgive me for any mistake I’ve made.”
“Do not grieve, father,” continued Amr, “I wished martyrdom and I received it.” Then he ended with words of love for his childhood sweetheart: “God gave me the person dear to me, Kariwan.”
Fighters who have taken up arms against Israel with groups such as Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad have long left their last wills, sometimes high-quality videos, to take responsibility for attacks where they expect to lose their lives.
Now young Palestinians like Amr – unaffiliated with the armed groups in the areas, but nevertheless willing to confront Israeli forces – are leaving their own messages. These farewells to loved ones, requests for forgiveness and exhortations to fight against Israel are known in Arabic as “wills”, even if their authors leave no material goods behind. Many scribble them on notebook paper, with words scratched out to show their uncertainty about what to say.
The suicide notes reflect the prevailing feeling among many young men that death is heroic, meaningful and inevitable in what is now the deadliest period for Palestinians in the Israeli-occupied West Bank in nearly two decades.
This week, Israel, which said it wanted to wipe out armed groups, launched its largest military incursion in decades in the West Bank, in the Palestinian city of Jenin, killing at least 12 Palestinians, launching airstrikes and destroying roads and infrastructure, local authorities said. officials said. In all, at least 155 Palestinians have been killed this year, most during Israeli military raids on Palestinian towns and cities, or in attacks by extremist Israeli settlers.
It has also been a particularly deadly time for Israelis. Military raids intensified last year after a spate of attacks by Palestinians against Israelis. At least 29 Israelis have been killed by Palestinian attackers so far this year, one of the highest tolls since 2008.
With the increase in violence, many young Palestinians feel additional pressure to become involved in the fight against Israel and act.
Palestinian society has long nurtured the “martyrs” – everyone killed by Israeli forces – with many of their images on walls and banners in Palestinian cities and, more recently, on social media platforms such as Instagram.
Farewell messages are often published by the Palestinian news media and widely shared on social media, inspiring more young Palestinians to write their own message.
Dr. Samah Jabr, the head of the Palestinian Authority’s mental health department, said writing such wills involved generational trauma for Palestinians living in the occupied territories, having to deal with checkpoints and near-daily raids by Israeli forces. Many young people feel a duty to take on adult roles, including confronting Israeli forces.
When Jalal Abukhater, a Palestinian writer from Jerusalem and the West Bank, goes to the wake of young Palestinians to pay his respects, he says, he often hears their friends talking about following their path.
“It’s not that they want to die, it’s that they feel they can’t give Palestine anything but martyrdom,” Mr Abukhater said. “They think throwing rocks at the Jeep is the bravest act.”
Some farewell messages written by young Palestinians in recent months quote the words of Uday al-Tamimi, 22.
While on the run after firing at an Israeli checkpoint at the entrance to the Shuafat refugee camp, killing a soldier, he wrote a message saying his attack was “a drop in the stormy sea of battle “.
“I know that sooner or later I will be tortured, and I know that I have not liberated Palestine through this operation,” wrote Mr. Tamimi, a resident of the camp. “But I did it with a goal in mind; for the operation to mobilize hundreds of young men to bear arms after me.”
Others have quoted the words of Ibrahim al-Nabulsi, 18, a member of a local armed group in Nablus, who left a short voice recording when he was cornered by Israeli forces in the moments before he was killed.
Mental health experts like Dr. Jabr and Ayed Houshia, a counselor at a boys’ school in the Dheisheh camp, said they and others should help Palestinian youth turn their fears or frustrations into productive actions rather than confrontations with Israeli forces that could kill them.
Amr’s parents said they had tried to prevent their son from sneaking out at night when Israeli troops invaded their town near Bethlehem.
The Israeli army said it raided Dheisheh on the morning of Amr’s assassination as part of an “anti-terrorism activity to arrest individuals”. It wouldn’t say who the soldiers were there to detain, but Palestinian state media reported that the military had detained an Italian activist.
The army said it was investigating Amr’s murder, but gave no further details.
Less than two weeks before Amr was killed, his friend, Adam Ayyad, 15, was shot and killed in a similar army raid on Dheisheh. Like Amr, he would sneak out of his house if the army invaded the camp to confront and throw stones at the soldiers, his family said.
About a month before Adam’s death, his mother, Wafaa Ayyad, found a farewell message from him. She tore it up and begged him not to write another one, she said.
But he did and kept it in his pocket, where it was found after he was shot and taken to the hospital.
“I wanted to do a lot of things, but we live in a place where it’s impossible to make your dreams come true,” Adam wrote. “Martyrdom is victory. It is true that your life ends, but at least it ends in happiness.”
Days later, Amr visited Adam’s grave at what is known as the martyrs’ cemetery on the outskirts of Dheisheh. He told his friends that he wanted to be buried in the empty plot next to Adam.
Around that time, Mr. Houshia, the school counselor, gathered his students and told them that resisting the Israeli occupation was not only about taking up arms, but also about studying and planning for a future. He advised them not to write any farewell messages themselves.
“Why does a 13-year-old child think about his death before he thinks about his future?” said Mr. Houshia.
Some students pushed back, insisting that a Palestinian homeland required sacrifices. Others admitted they had already prepared their latest messages, said Mohammad al-Afendi, 15, a 10th grader who attended the meeting.
After the sessions, he said, Mr. Houshia of some parents who reported that their sons had started to talk more about their future and their studies. But such guidance interventions are overshadowed by the day-to-day realities the young people live in, he said.
“We can advise the students, but we cannot prevent the army from entering the camp,” he said. “The occupation is the biggest motivator among young people who ask why they should stop when they are subjected to war and death.”
Months after Amr’s death, his friends often join his mother when she visits his grave, right on the plot where he said he wanted to be buried. It is covered with a sea of flowers, real and artificial, which she cares for carefully.
Some of Amr’s friends admit that they have already written their wills. There are also other indications that some of them could follow his path.
On one side of the cemetery is a row of empty graves. Like Amr, some of his friends say they have already claimed their plots.
