Israel just tore up a fundamental piece of the Oslo peace process architecture, and hardly anyone noticed.
While international attention stays glued to active frontlines, Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich quietly signed off on a dynamic shift in the occupied West Bank. He unilaterally revoked the civil planning and construction powers held by the Palestinian municipality of Hebron under the 1997 Hebron Agreement.
This isn't just another dry bureaucratic edit. It's a calculated, direct strike at the legal and administrative framework that has governed one of the most volatile flashpoints in the Middle East for nearly three decades. By stripping the Palestinian Authority of its zoning and licensing rights over the H2 zone—the Israeli-controlled sector of the city that includes Jewish settlements and the deeply contested Tomb of the Patriarchs—the Israeli government has effectively neutralized a cornerstone of the peace accords.
If you want to understand how the map of the West Bank is being permanently redrawn, you have to look past the rhetoric and focus on the zoning laws.
The Death of the 1997 Protocol
To grasp why this matters, you need to understand the fragile status quo that existed before Monday night. Signed in 1997 under international auspices with heavy US involvement, the Hebron Protocol split the ancient city into two distinct administrative zones:
- H1 Zone: Encompassing roughly 80% of the city, home to the vast majority of the Palestinian population, under full Palestinian civil and security control.
- H2 Zone: Comprising the remaining 20%, which includes the historic Old City, a few hundred ideologically driven Jewish settlers, and tens of thousands of Palestinians.
Under that 1997 deal, Israel retained absolute military and security control over H2. But there was a massive catch that always infuriated the Israeli settler movement: civil administrative powers, specifically the right to issue building permits, manage infrastructure, and oversee zoning, remained firmly with the Palestinian Hebron Municipality.
Smotrich, speaking at a cornerstone-laying ceremony for Doran—a new settlement outpost on Mount Hebron—explicitly targeted this arrangement. He called it "one of the most absurd clauses of the Oslo accords," mocking the fact that development within the Jewish settlement and at the shared holy sites was legally dependent on what he termed a "terrorist municipality."
By pushing this revocation through the Higher Planning Committee of the Civil Administration—a branch of the Defense Ministry that Smotrich holds direct authority over—the government didn't just bypass the Palestinian Authority. It sidelined them permanently. The civil powers over H2, including the Ibrahimi Mosque (Tomb of the Patriarchs), are now entirely in Israeli hands.
Annexation by Paperwork
Many observers make the mistake of waiting for a grand, dramatic declaration of annexation from Israel. That is not how things are playing out. The strategy under the current coalition is annexation by paperwork—a steady, deliberate transfer of administrative machinery from military rule to Israeli civilian agencies.
Look at the mechanics of how this Hebron decision came to be. It didn't emerge out of nowhere. It is the implementation phase of a secret security cabinet decision introduced by Smotrich months ago, back in February. It coordinates perfectly with other less-publicized legislative moves pushed through by Smotrich and Defense Minister Israel Katz, such as repealing old Jordanian laws that historically restricted the sale of Palestinian land to Jewish buyers in the West Bank.
When you control the planning committees, you control reality on the ground. You decide which roads get paved, which water lines get extended, which outposts get retroactively legalized, and which Palestinian homes get issued demolition orders for lacking permits that are now impossible for them to obtain.
The Palestinian leadership recognizes the gravity of this shift. Hebron Mayor Yusuf al-Jabari immediately denounced the move, pointing out that local powers must remain intact across both H1 and H2 under international law. The Palestinian Authority called it a "direct assault" on the city's legal status. Even the UN and UNESCO—which lists Hebron's Old City as a protected Palestinian World Heritage site—are being pulled into the diplomatic fallout.
But statements don't stop bulldozers, and they certainly don't reverse signed administrative orders.
Why Hebron is the Ultimate Prize
Hebron is different from almost any other city in the West Bank. In places like Ramallah or Nablus, Israeli settlements sit on the hills outside the municipal boundaries. In Hebron, the conflict is internal, intimate, and intensely bitter. Settlers live directly above, next to, and among the Palestinian population in the heart of the city.
The epicenter of this friction is the Tomb of the Patriarchs, known to Muslims as the Ibrahimi Mosque. It is the purported burial place of Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, and Jacob, making it sacred to both Jews and Muslims. It has also been the site of horrific bloodshed, most notably the 1994 massacre where a Jewish settler killed 29 Muslim worshippers inside the shrine.
The settlement movement has spent decades trying to untangle itself from Palestinian civic oversight at this specific site. Last year, the Civil Administration took temporary control over the area to execute construction work. Monday’s executive action turns that temporary overreach into permanent policy.
For Smotrich and his base, this is a massive ideological victory. For years, his stated goal has been to block the formation of a contiguous, viable Palestinian state. By systematically dismantling the municipal jurisdictions established under Oslo, the Israeli government is creating an irreversible reality. It is integrating the civil governance of West Bank settlements directly into domestic Israeli frameworks.
The International Void
The international response to this quiet coup has been utterly predictable: deep concern, rhetorical opposition, and zero material consequences.
The US State Department issued a carefully worded statement indicating displeasure, noting that the administration does not support Israel annexing the West Bank. But the warning lacked any real teeth. In an apparent effort to manage the international pushback, the Israeli Foreign Ministry tried to play down the move, claiming the 1997 agreement hadn't been canceled in its entirety and blaming the Palestinian municipality for a failure to cooperate on civilian matters.
This bureaucratic double-talk doesn't change the operational reality. The core of the Hebron Agreement is effectively dead.
With an Israeli election looming by October, Smotrich is currently struggling in national polls. For a politician whose support draws heavily from ideologically motivated settlers, delivering total civil control over Hebron's holiest sites is the ultimate piece of political currency. It satisfies his base, cements his legacy, and moves the needle closer to full de jure annexation of Judea and Samaria.
Don't look for a formal announcement that the Oslo Accords are over. Look at the zoning maps of Hebron. The partition lines are being erased, one administrative signature at a time.
