RAWABI, Palestinian Territories (AFP) — As Arabic rap thundered from loudspeakers and hundreds of spectators packed the stands in the occupied West Bank city of Rawabi, handlers put the finishing touches on gleaming Arabian stallions before leading them into the show ring.

“Palestinians have a huge passion for Arabian horses,” said Abdelnasser Musleh, a 30-year-old breeder speaking to
AFP at the horse beauty pageant.

“I think a big part of our identity, our culture, our presence is connected to horses. And we feel proud of this breed, the Arabian breed.”

Even as open land becomes increasingly scarce and contested amid expanding Israeli settlement construction in the West Bank, horse culture has emerged in unlikely nooks as a rare form of recreation that still draws Palestinians together, from urban neighbourhoods to rural villages.

Musleh himself has built something few would expect: An Arabian horse farm in the crowded Palestinian town of Kufr Aqab, north of Jerusalem on the West Bank side of the barrier built by Israel.

At the pageant, hard-faced men dressed in black Armani and Adidas tracksuits, gold chains glinting under the lights, carefully groomed their stallions as they waited for their moment in the spotlight.

Some applied glossy gel around the horses’ large, expressive eyes; others brushed their thin coats — two hallmarks of the Arabian breed, which Palestinians began reviving in the past few decades, according to Belgian competition judge Conrad Detailleur.

In a striking surge, there are now about 25,000 purebreds registered across Israel and the Palestinian territories through the Israel Arab Horse Society, compared to around 20 in the 1970s, according to Ashraf Rabee, a breeder who oversees registrations in the West Bank.

For Musleh, who has worked with horses for 13 years, the show offers something beyond competition.

“This is a place where Palestinians come together, where Palestinians unite, exchange knowledge about horses,” said Musleh.

In the neighbouring stalls, many of the participants were Palestinian citizens of Israel, also known as Arab-Israelis, who make up roughly 20 percent of the country’s population.

They had brought their horses through Israeli military checkpoints from cities like Haifa, Acre, Nazareth, Ramle, and Sakhnin, all known for their Arab or mixed populations.

Despite living in densely populated areas, Palestinian breeders continue to raise horses in remarkably urban settings.

“Palestinians don’t have pastures or they don’t have land to build stables. With the tiniest opportunities, under their houses, with a small arena, they still breed horses,” said Musleh.

His own farm sits wedged between high-rise buildings, a stone’s throw from the busy road leading to the main checkpoint between Jerusalem and the West Bank.

In places where young men might otherwise spend their evenings racing dirt bikes, many choose instead to raise horses.

In Israeli-annexed east Jerusalem, riders guide their horses through dense neighbourhoods before proudly trotting at dusk across Mount Scopus, overlooking Jordan.

Similarly, while walking through Nablus’s old city, for years home to armed groups resisting Israel’s military occupation, the sound of neighing still echoes through narrow alleyways, leading visitors to stables tucked inside centuries-old stone houses.

Hundreds of spectators — men, women and children — filled the bleachers at the Rawabi show.

Some smoked shisha, while others sprinted towards the arena when a friend or relative’s stallion won a prize.

Just before each horse entered the ring, handlers waved plastic bags beside the stallions to fire them up, encouraging the dramatic head tosses that make Arabian horses, in Musleh’s words, “the most expressive of all breeds”.

For many Palestinians, horse breeding is more than a hobby.

It is entwined with identity, heritage and a sense of belonging to the land. Poems, songs and graffiti celebrate horses and horsemen alike.

“The horse is a huge part of our Arab culture,” breeder Rashad al-Sah, from Arraba in Israel’s north, told AFP.

“You feel that the Arabian horse is part of you — even if you don’t own one yourself,” said Sah, whose colt Shahed won a prize at the show in Rawabi. “It’s in our blood.