Isaac Horovitz visited the Jenin refugee camp—once the epicenter of terror in Yehudah and Shomron and the launchpad for some of the deadliest attacks in Israel’s history. The iconic gate is gone. The Islamic Jihad headquarters has become an IDF training ground, and the school now serves as a staging area for soldiers.
It was not so long ago that operating in Jenin meant an almost-certain loss of life for IDF soldiers—and on one particular street, all the more so. In 2002, during Operation Defensive Shield, soldiers from the Nachshon Battalion of the Kfir Brigade engaged in fierce house-to-house combat, supported by attack helicopters, tanks and armored D9 bulldozers that cleared explosives and booby-trapped doors. Then they reached a small courtyard, later dubbed “The Bathtub.” This was the home of Mahmoud Tawalbeh, commander of the Jenin Battalion of Islamic Jihad. In that courtyard, the terrorists had prepared an ambush.
When the IDF soldiers entered, fire rained down on them from all directions, explosive devices were detonated and crossfire came from the upper floors. A brutal battle ensued. The bodies of three of Israeli soldiers were abducted, requiring Shayetet 13 commandos to recover them. Thirteen soldiers fell in the ambush; it was one of the deadliest clashes in Israel’s counterterrorism history and in the camp’s legacy. “The Bathtub” became a symbol of Jenin’s cruelty and terror.
Today, nothing remains of “The Bathtub.” The buildings are rubble, the courtyard gone, the street leading there barely recognizable. Only a newly built mosque stands at the far end.
“Not long ago,” says current Nachshon Battalion Commander Lt. Colonel Yoel Glickman, “people used to ask to see ‘The Bathtub.’ But now there’s nothing left to show.” The alley has disappeared. In fact, the entire refugee camp is effectively gone—it is a ghost town inhabited by IDF soldiers and the Nachshon Battalion. “This is our home now,” says Lt. Colonel Glickman “I live here. This is the quietest camp in Yehudah and Shomron.”
We wandered among the ruins for over an hour. I think we saw a single cat. That was it. The symbol of terror is no more.
The Rise of Jenin as a Terror Hub
Jenin, in northern Shomron, was once the Levite city of Ein Ganim in the territory of Yissachar. Surrounded by forests and gardens near the Jezreel Valley and Gilboa, it was picturesque—until it became a garden of evil.
Affluent by Palestinian standards, Jenin once welcomed thousands of Israeli Arabs who shopped every weekend, fueling the local economy. Its supply trucks still wait at checkpoints. The area is also home to the main campus of the Arab American University, a prestigious private institution that works in cooperation with US colleges.
But on Jenin’s eastern edge lies the refugee camp, a notorious terror base since the First Intifada. Though no larger than an average neighborhood at about one square kilometer, it once housed over 16,000 registered refugees, about a quarter of whom were officially classified as displaced or homeless.
During the Second Intifada, Jenin became a stronghold for Islamic Jihad and earned the grim title “Capital of the Suicide Bombers.” One of the most horrific attacks—the 2002 Pesach massacre at the Park Hotel in Netanya—originated here. Thirty Israelis were murdered and 160 injured. It remains the deadliest suicide bombing in Israel’s history and led to Operation Defensive Shield, ordered by then-Prime Minister Ariel Sharon.
The battle in Jenin during that operation was especially brutal. Well-organized terrorists forced IDF troops to demolish house after house. During the assault—including “The Bathtub” ambush—23 soldiers were killed. The terrorists didn’t surrender easily; they consulted Hezbollah’s Hassan Nasrallah before finally giving in. But they rebuilt.
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