Judea and Samaria are not a side-note in Jewish history or a peripheral security concern for modern Israel. They are the geographic and spiritual core of the Jewish people’s national story and one of the most strategically consequential regions in the Middle East. To understand why this area matters, it helps to begin with a simple idea: for Jews, Judea and Samaria are not a distant colony or a modern “project.” They are the ancestral heartland where Judaism’s foundational events unfolded, where Jewish civilization took root, and where Jewish national identity was formed over thousands of years. In modern times, the same ridgelines and valleys that carried biblical history also shape Israel’s security reality, because they overlook Israel’s main population centers and sit along corridors that terrorists and hostile foreign-backed networks have repeatedly tried to exploit.
Many people encounter Judea and Samaria only through headlines about diplomacy, conflict, or contested terminology. But a serious, good-faith resource should explain the deeper layers: the historical and biblical connection, the complicated legal-administrative framework that governs the area today, and the strategic logic that makes this territory pivotal for Israel’s defensive posture. It should also clarify why simplistic slogans—especially those designed to delegitimize Israel—often collapse under basic scrutiny. This article aims to provide that foundation in an accessible way for readers who are new to the subject, while still being detailed enough to function as a substantial reference.
What do “Judea and Samaria” mean?
“Judea and Samaria” are the historical names for the central highlands of the Land of Israel. “Judea” corresponds broadly to the southern portion of this hill country, associated historically with the Kingdom of Judah and with Jerusalem’s wider region. “Samaria” corresponds broadly to the northern portion, associated with the Kingdom of Israel (often called the Northern Kingdom) and with ancient Israelite centers further north.
These names are not invented for modern politics. They are deeply rooted in Jewish historical memory and appear throughout classical Jewish sources. In the modern international media, the term “West Bank” is often used instead, referring to the territory west of the Jordan River. That term itself is historically recent, tied to Jordan’s occupation of the territory after the 1948 war and the fact that, for Jordan, it was the “west bank” of its kingdom relative to the Jordan River. Regardless of which label is used in conversation, the essential reality remains: we are talking about the central mountain ridge that runs north-south through the heart of the Land of Israel—geography that is both symbolically central to Jewish identity and militarily central to Israel’s security requirements.
The biblical and historical heartland: why this land is not “random”
For many Jews (and also for many Christians), the map of Judea and Samaria is a living map of biblical memory. Places like Hebron, Shiloh, and Shechem (Nablus) are not abstract names; they are locations tied to patriarchal narratives, the early Israelite period, and the development of Jewish religious and national life. Even when readers do not share religious belief, it is still historically meaningful that Jewish peoplehood—language, law, worship, calendar, and national consciousness—developed in this specific terrain.
One way to understand the emotional and civilizational weight of Judea and Samaria is to compare it to how other nations regard their core founding landscapes. Americans, for example, treat Philadelphia, Boston, or the Gettysburg battlefield as more than tourist sites; they are physical anchors of national memory. In much the same way—but on a far older timescale—Judea and Samaria hold concentrated layers of Jewish national origin.
Archaeology is often dragged into polemics here, and it is wise to be careful: archaeology rarely “proves” theology. But it can, and does, illuminate the existence of ancient Israelite life and the antiquity of Jewish connection to this land. Sites such as Shiloh, traditionally associated with the Tabernacle period, have drawn significant attention and ongoing research, with published discussions noting evidence of ancient settlement and destruction layers consistent with a long and complex history (1)(2). While archaeology must be interpreted with scholarly discipline and without sensationalism, it is simply false to suggest that Jewish rootedness in these areas is an invented modern narrative.
Hebron, in particular, has been central to Jewish history for millennia. The Cave of the Patriarchs (Machpelah) is one of Judaism’s most revered sites, associated with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, and Leah. The structure that stands there today includes monumental construction attributed historically to the Herodian period, underscoring the long continuity of sacred use over many centuries (3). Even when political debates rage, the basic fact remains: Jewish connection to Hebron is not a contemporary innovation.
Modern Israel and the return to the heartland
In the modern era, the status of Judea and Samaria became a central issue after the 1967 Six-Day War. Israel captured the territory from Jordan in a defensive war context, after a period in which Jordan had controlled the area. Since then, the territory has been internationally disputed and politically charged, but the modern Jewish return to parts of Judea and Samaria has been experienced by many Israelis as a homecoming to places that sit at the heart of Jewish history.
It is important to understand the diversity inside Israeli society regarding this question. Israeli communities in Judea and Samaria are not a monolith. They include religious Zionists motivated by biblical and historical attachment, secular Israelis looking for quality-of-life opportunities, families seeking more affordable housing, and communities built for strategic depth or to reinforce major population blocs close to the Green Line/Armistice Line. Politically, Israelis debate this issue intensely, including questions of sovereignty, security arrangements, and the future of any negotiated settlement. But even among those who disagree about policy, many still recognize the basic historical truth: this is the Jewish heartland, and its fate affects Israel’s identity and security in ways unlike nearly any other territory.
The legal and diplomatic framework: why Oslo matters
Many people assume Judea and Samaria is governed by a single, straightforward legal regime. In reality, the area is administered through layered arrangements shaped by history, military necessity, and negotiated agreements—especially the Oslo framework.
The Oslo Accords created a division of administrative responsibilities in parts of Judea and Samaria, commonly referred to as Areas A, B, and C. In simplified terms, these categories allocate varying degrees of civil and security control between Israel and the Palestinian self-governing Arab administration in parts of Judea and Samaria. This structure is often misunderstood by casual observers, but it is critical because it means the governance of the territory is not uniform. It is a patchwork in which Israeli and local Arab administrative responsibilities vary by area and by subject matter. Discussions of legality, building, policing, counter-terror operations, and civil services must account for this reality, not ignore it.
Some legal analyses argue that Oslo instituted “an agreed legal regime,” shaping how claims should be evaluated within the framework the parties accepted (4). While not everyone agrees on every legal implication, the basic point is unavoidable: Oslo is not a rumor, and it is not an optional footnote. It is an agreed-upon structure that still heavily influences how the area is administered and debated.
At the same time, international diplomacy around Judea and Samaria frequently references UN Security Council Resolution 242, passed after the 1967 war. Resolution 242 is often summarized in simplistic ways, but serious legal debate has focused for decades on its precise wording and intent—especially its withdrawal clause and its emphasis on “secure and recognized boundaries.” Multiple legal and scholarly treatments have argued that the resolution was drafted in a way that does not mandate a full withdrawal from all territories captured in 1967, but rather contemplates negotiations leading to secure borders that may differ from the pre-war armistice lines (5)(6). This matters because it undercuts a common propaganda claim that Israel is automatically and categorically required—by 242 alone—to withdraw completely to the 1949 Armistice Line regardless of security outcomes or negotiated agreements.
In other words, one can argue for many political outcomes, including territorial compromise, but it is misleading to present the most maximal anti-Israel demands as if they are the only reading of the relevant diplomatic texts.
Why the terrain matters: Judea and Samaria as Israel’s strategic high ground
Even if Judea and Samaria had no biblical significance at all, the territory would still matter enormously because of geography. Israel is a small country. In its narrowest point, the distance from the Mediterranean to the Armistice Line is extremely short, and the central highlands of Judea and Samaria rise above Israel’s coastal plain, where much of Israel’s population and economic infrastructure are concentrated. That means whoever controls the hill country holds commanding elevation over key routes, cities, and strategic corridors.
This is not theoretical. Military planners and security professionals have long examined how control of the high ground affects early warning, defensive maneuver, and the ability to prevent infiltration and attacks. Israeli strategic literature has repeatedly emphasized that the country’s security environment is shaped by non-state terrorist groups, state sponsors of terrorism, and the risk of the highlands becoming a platform for rocket fire, sniper fire, or mass-casualty attacks against Israel’s dense civilian centers (7). When critics demand that Israel treat Judea and Samaria like an irrelevant bargaining chip, they are often ignoring the physical realities that Israeli civilians live with and that Israeli defense planners must account for.
The most obvious recent example of what happens when territory becomes a terror platform is Gaza after Israel’s 2005 disengagement. While Judea and Samaria are not Gaza and the situations are not identical, the lesson Israelis draw is clear: vacuums in contested spaces can be exploited by Islamist terror regimes and Iranian-backed proxy networks, turning territory into a launching pad rather than a peaceful neighbor. This is why many Israelis are skeptical of proposals that treat withdrawal as inherently peace-producing without credible mechanisms to prevent terror takeovers.
Terror infrastructure and the challenge of security governance
A central difficulty in Judea and Samaria is the persistent presence of terror networks and incitement ecosystems that recruit, fund, and motivate attacks against Israeli civilians. The area has seen waves of violence over decades, including suicide bombings, shootings, stabbings, vehicle rammings, and other forms of terror. Israeli counter-terror operations in the area are frequently portrayed by hostile commentators as gratuitous aggression rather than what they are: a defensive response to a lethal threat.
This is also where moral clarity matters. A democratic state acting to protect its citizens is not morally equivalent to terrorist organizations deliberately targeting civilians. Any narrative that tries to erase this distinction is not “balanced”; it is ethically distorted.
Israel’s security posture in Judea and Samaria includes intelligence operations, arrests of militants, disruption of weapons smuggling, and the operation of defensive measures designed to reduce attacks. In many public conversations, security checkpoints and defensive barriers are described only as inconveniences or political symbols. In practice, they are part of a broader counter-terror architecture that Israeli authorities credit with reducing attacks, especially during intense waves of terrorism.
Some discussions of the Second Intifada period and its aftermath emphasize the legal and operational scrutiny Israel applies to the use of force and counter-terror measures, including the role of the Israeli Supreme Court and ongoing debate within Israeli society (8). A reader does not need to agree with every specific policy to grasp the foundational point: Israel’s measures arise in a context where buses, restaurants, markets, and homes have been targeted, and where terror groups have repeatedly attempted to exploit proximity to Israeli civilian centers.
Resilient Israeli communities: what they are and why they exist
Israeli communities in Judea and Samaria are often described in international discourse as if they are purely ideological outposts. In reality, they range from small towns to large cities, with schools, medical clinics, industrial zones, synagogues, community centers, and ordinary family life. Many residents commute to jobs inside Israel proper. Many communities sit near strategic routes or in areas viewed by Israelis as vital for defense.
It is also important to address a frequent misconception: the existence of Jewish communities in Judea and Samaria does not automatically mean Palestinians (Arab residents) are absent or erased. The region is home to both Jewish and Arab populations, and daily life is shaped by complex interactions—economic, social, and sometimes tense or violent. There are areas of cooperation and shared commerce, and there are areas where the relationship is poisoned by incitement, terror recruitment, and political radicalization.
Some critics argue that Jewish presence itself is illegitimate. That claim is not a neutral legal observation; it is a political demand that Jews be barred from living in historically Jewish places. When such a demand is applied only to Jews—while insisting that Arabs must have the right to live anywhere—it reveals itself as discriminatory rather than principled.
International law debates: avoiding slogans and looking at arguments
The legal arguments around Judea and Samaria are complex, and many people use them as talking points rather than engaging seriously. One commonly repeated claim is that all Israeli communities in Judea and Samaria are automatically illegal under international law. Yet legal and diplomatic positions have differed, including within the United States. For example, the Trump administration stated that Israeli civilian settlements in the West Bank are “not per se inconsistent with international law,” rejecting the idea of automatic illegality (4). One can oppose settlement expansion on political grounds and still acknowledge that the legal question is disputed rather than closed.
Likewise, as noted earlier, Resolution 242 is frequently invoked as a blunt instrument, but scholarly analysis has argued the resolution’s text and drafting history support an interpretation that it contemplates negotiated borders and does not require total withdrawal to the prior armistice lines (5)(6). The key point for an educational resource is not to demand the reader adopt one final legal conclusion, but to inoculate them against propaganda that insists there is only one “obvious” reading and that anyone who disagrees is acting in bad faith.
The existential regional context: Iran and the proxy strategy
To understand why Judea and Samaria are so sensitive, you must place them inside the broader regional contest. Israel is not facing a normal border dispute with a peace-minded neighbor; it is facing an environment where Iran and allied proxy groups seek to encircle and bleed the Jewish state through terror, rockets, and ideological warfare. Israeli security assessments frequently analyze these threats as part of a regional system, not isolated local crime. Strategic literature from Israeli security institutes routinely frames Israel’s challenges in the context of regional instability, Iranian ambitions, and non-state armed actors who thrive on chaos and exploit civilian populations (7).
In that environment, the nightmare scenario for many Israelis is that Judea and Samaria could become another platform for Iranian-backed terror infrastructure—closer than Gaza to Israel’s main cities, overlooking highways and airports, and enabling attacks that are harder to stop. This is why “security first” is not an excuse or a slogan in Israeli thinking; it is a survival doctrine shaped by experience.
Addressing common myths and misunderstandings
A responsible resource should address myths directly, because much of the global conversation about Judea and Samaria is driven by simplified or weaponized narratives.
One myth is that the conflict is fundamentally about real estate and could be solved if Israel simply “left.” Israel has made territorial concessions before and has repeatedly engaged in negotiations. Yet violence has persisted in many periods, often driven by maximalist ideologies that reject the legitimacy of a Jewish state in any borders. This does not mean every Palestinian grievance is fake or every Palestinian actor is a terrorist; it means that the conflict cannot be reduced to a property dispute when powerful armed movements treat Israel’s existence itself as the target.
Another myth is that Jewish history in Judea and Samaria is merely a religious claim with no broader significance. In reality, Jewish identity is not only theological; it is national, cultural, linguistic, and historical, and it developed in this land. Places like Shiloh and Hebron are tied to the narrative of Jewish peoplehood across thousands of years, and archaeological discussion of these sites reflects that they are ancient and significant locations with long patterns of settlement and destruction (1)(3). Denying that connection is not “progress”; it is historical erasure.
A third myth is that Israel’s security measures are primarily designed to harm civilians. In truth, counter-terror measures exist because civilians have been targeted and killed, and because terror organizations embed themselves in civilian areas, exploit humanitarian systems, and use the proximity of Judea and Samaria to Israel’s population centers as operational advantage. A state has not only the right but the obligation to defend its citizens—especially when facing adversaries that glorify civilian murder and treat it as strategy rather than tragedy.
Why this region shapes the future of Israel
Judea and Samaria sit at the intersection of three questions that define Israel’s future.
First is identity. The Jewish people’s bond to this land is not a modern invention; it is the landscape of Jewish origins and continuity. Debates about sovereignty and governance are real and ongoing, but they are debated within the reality that this is the historic heartland.
Second is security. Geography is not negotiable. The high ground overlooks the coastal plain, and the short distances involved mean that a terror platform in these hills could be devastating in ways that outsiders often underestimate. Israeli strategy documents and security analysis emphasize the broader regional threats and the difficulty of securing Israel’s narrow waist without defensible arrangements (7).
Third is diplomacy. The Oslo framework and Resolution 242 remain central reference points in international diplomacy, and both are widely misunderstood or misrepresented. Oslo created a complex division of responsibilities that still shapes daily governance, and 242 is best understood as a basis for negotiation toward secure and recognized borders, not as a simplistic demand for unilateral withdrawal regardless of security realities (4)(6).
A realistic, ethical framework for understanding Judea and Samaria
Any honest approach to Judea and Samaria must combine moral clarity with realism.
Moral clarity means rejecting false equivalence between a democratic state and terror organizations. It means acknowledging that Israel’s citizens—Jews, Muslims, Christians, Druze, and others—have the right to live without being bombed, shot, or stabbed. It means recognizing that incitement to murder and the glorification of terrorists are not “resistance” but a moral and political poison that destroys prospects for peace.
Realism means accepting that the region’s future cannot be built on fantasies. Peace requires security structures that prevent terror takeovers, governance arrangements that maintain order, and leadership that educates toward coexistence rather than martyrdom. It also requires outside observers to stop treating Israel as uniquely illegitimate for insisting on self-defense in a region where weakness is exploited ruthlessly.
Judea and Samaria are thus not merely a topic for activists; they are a central test case for whether the world will evaluate Israel by the standards applied to other democracies—or whether it will continue to indulge narratives that demand Jewish vulnerability as the price of being accepted.
Further reading
For readers who want to go deeper into the legal-diplomatic debate around Resolution 242, academic discussion of the text and its implications is a valuable starting point (5)(6). For understanding how Israel’s national security community frames threats and strategic depth, Israeli strategic surveys and analyses provide a window into the professional security logic that shapes policy (7). For readers encountering common claims about legality and Oslo’s governance implications, resources compiling these debates and referencing Oslo’s allocation of responsibilities can help clarify what is often misrepresented in public discourse (4).