Why Is Taxpayer Money Rewarding Attacks on Israelis?

By VirentaNews Staff — May 17, 2026

In a dimly lit government office in Ramallah, clerks process monthly payments to families scattered across the West Bank and Gaza Strip—payments not for loss due to war or natural disaster, but for the deliberate killing of civilians. These disbursements are part of a decades-old policy maintained by the Palestinian Authority (PA), officially known as the Palestinian Authority Martyrs Fund, but widely condemned as a ‘pay-for-slay’ program. Each sum, calibrated by the severity of the crime and the prison sentence handed down, flows from taxpayer-backed budgets and international aid, reaching families of those convicted of murdering Israeli civilians, including children and the elderly. The program, deeply embedded in Palestinian social welfare structures, is celebrated in some communities as a form of resistance support, while drawing fierce international rebuke as a state-sponsored incentive for terrorism.

Current Expansion of the Payments Program

The PA has not only maintained the controversial program but has institutionalized and expanded it in recent years. According to data from the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs, in 2023 alone, the PA allocated over $15 million to approximately 6,300 individuals linked to violence against Israelis. These funds are distributed through the Palestinian Authority’s Ministry of Social Development and are often supplemented by local municipalities and political factions like Fatah. Payments vary: a prisoner serving a life sentence for a deadly attack can receive up to 4,000 shekels ($1,100) per month, while families of those killed in clashes receive lump sums and recurring stipends. Even minors convicted of stabbings or car-ramming attacks are eligible. Israel and U.S. lawmakers argue that these disbursements, funded in part by Western aid, directly violate the principles of counterterrorism and obstruct any viable peace process. Despite bipartisan condemnation in Congress, including the passage of the Taylor Force Act—which restricts U.S. aid to the PA unless it ends the program—funding continues through other channels.

Origins of the ‘Martyrs Fund’

The roots of the payments program trace back to the First Intifada in the late 1980s, when Palestinian families of those killed or imprisoned during uprisings began receiving informal support from local committees and PLO-affiliated groups. After the Oslo Accords in 1994 established the Palestinian Authority, the program was formalized under President Yasser Arafat as part of a broader social welfare initiative to support families affected by conflict. Over time, the criteria shifted from general hardship to direct linkage with attacks on Israelis. By the Second Intifada (2000–2005), the program had become a tool of political legitimacy, with militants lionized as ‘martyrs’ and their families elevated in public discourse. Annual budgets for the program rose steadily, and today it constitutes a significant portion of the PA’s social spending. Successive Palestinian leaders, including Mahmoud Abbas, have defended it as a form of ‘compensation for victims of occupation,’ though critics argue it distorts victimhood and glorifies violence.

Key Figures Behind the Policy

President Mahmoud Abbas, now in his late 80s and leading a politically weakened administration, continues to endorse the payments as a matter of national duty. His Fatah party, which dominates the PA, views the program as a cornerstone of Palestinian identity and resistance. Senior officials, including Social Development Minister Majid al-Fatayri, oversee the disbursement mechanisms and publicly defend them as humanitarian. On the ground, local administrators in cities like Nablus and Jenin often coordinate with security forces and militant networks to verify eligibility, blurring the lines between state function and militant affiliation. Meanwhile, figures within Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad, though not formally part of the PA, benefit indirectly when their members are imprisoned by Israel and later receive PA stipends. This convergence reinforces a broader culture in which violence is financially rewarded and politically valorized, even as it isolates the PA from potential peace partners.

Consequences for Peace and Security

The ongoing payments deepen mistrust between Israelis and Palestinians and complicate diplomatic efforts. Israeli leaders across the political spectrum denounce the policy as state-sponsored terrorism, with former Prime Minister Naftali Bennett calling it ‘blood money.’ The psychological impact on Israeli society is profound—families of victims see their trauma monetized by the very authority with which peace is supposed to be negotiated. Internationally, the program undermines donor confidence. Countries like Canada and the UK have paused or redirected aid, while the U.S. continues legal battles over compliance with anti-terrorism funding laws. Within Palestinian society, critics—including activists and economists—warn that the program diverts limited resources from essential services like healthcare and education, entrenching a cycle of dependency on conflict-related funding.

The Bigger Picture

Beyond the immediate controversy, the ‘pay-for-slay’ policy reflects a broader crisis of governance and legitimacy in Palestinian politics. With no national elections in over 15 years and fragmented leadership between Ramallah and Gaza, the PA relies on symbolic acts—like honoring militants—to maintain relevance. Yet this strategy comes at a steep cost: it alienates potential allies, erodes moral credibility, and perpetuates a narrative where violence is rewarded more than reconciliation. As regional normalization deals expand between Israel and Arab states, the PA’s adherence to such policies risks further marginalization on the global stage.

What comes next may depend less on Ramallah than on external pressure. If Western donors enforce stricter conditions on aid or if Palestinian civil society gains momentum in demanding reform, the program could face real scrutiny. But absent systemic change, the monthly transfers will continue—quietly, bureaucratically, and with profound moral consequences.

Source: Jpost