OCCUPIED JERUSALEM, (PIC)
When the question of who is the muezzin of al-Aqsa Mosque is raised, the intention is not merely to identify the name of a person who raises the call to prayer from the minarets of the blessed Mosque. In Jerusalem, every task within al-Aqsa carries a meaning that transcends daily function to Ribat and the preservation of the Arab Islamic identity in the face of the Israeli occupation and attempts to impose a new reality on the place and the people.
Who is the muezzin of al-Aqsa?
The direct answer is that al-Aqsa has more than one muezzin, because al-Aqsa Mosque, with its vast area, multiple buildings, and historical minarets, does not rely on only one person.
The muezzins belong to the Islamic Endowment Department in Jerusalem, and they are among the crews that undertake the service of the Mosque daily alongside the guards, custodians, employees, and scholars. Therefore, the question of who is the muezzin of al-Aqsa needs a simple correction, there is no single permanent muezzin in the exclusive sense, but rather there are muezzins who take turns in this mission according to an approved system.
This clarification is important because many deal with the phrase as if it refers to a single symbolic figure. It is true that some muezzins’ names stand out in the media due to the length of their service or because of their exposure to persecution and deportation, but al-Aqsa has remained throughout its history present with several voices, and each voice among them carries a message of steadfastness in a city that the occupation tries to suffocate day after day.
The call to prayer in al-Aqsa is not a passing detail
In any mosque, the call to prayer is a call to prayer. As for al-Aqsa Mosque, it is also a declaration of survival. When the call to prayer rises from the minarets of al-Aqsa, it confirms the identity of the place in front of a Judaization project that does not target the stone only, but targets the awareness, the narrative, and the Palestinian existence itself in Jerusalem.
For this reason, it was not strange that the Endowment crews, including the muezzins, were subjected to repeated restrictions by the occupation authorities. The matter for the occupation is neither administrative nor security as it claims, but rather political par excellence. Every organized Palestinian presence inside al-Aqsa disturbs it, because it dissipates its attempt to portray the Mosque as if it is a space capable of redefinition, division, or full subjection to its will.
The muezzin here does not perform a vocal role only. He is part of the daily steadfastness system. He opens his day in the heart of a city besieged by checkpoints, cameras, and incursions, and performs his mission in a place exposed to continuous targeting. Therefore, understanding the position of the muezzin of al-Aqsa begins with understanding the nature of the battle over Jerusalem itself.
What is the mechanism for choosing the muezzins of al-Aqsa?
The muezzins of al-Aqsa Mosque are employees belonging to the Islamic Endowment Department in Jerusalem, which is the entity responsible for managing the affairs of the Mosque and its care. It is expected that the muezzin possesses a good voice, mastery of the rules of the call to prayer, discipline in timing, and the ability to endure the nature of religious and service work within the Mosque.
But in Jerusalem, the professional aspect alone is not enough. Whoever works in al-Aqsa also needs a long breath, because the job there is not separated from the daily pressure. He may be summoned for investigation, or prevented from access, or subjected to constant monitoring. Therefore, the muezzin in al-Aqsa performs a religious work, but at the same time, he lives the conditions of Ribat, with all the practical meaning the word carries, not just as a slogan.
And here a harsh paradox appears. What should be a purely devotional matter, the occupation turns into a field of daily constriction and testing. Nevertheless, the Endowment and its crews remained maintaining the regularity of the call to prayer and service, despite all that surrounds the scene of attempts at intimidation and restriction.
Why do people search for a specific name?
Many of those searching for the phrase “who is the muezzin of al-Aqsa” actually mean to get to know one of the well-known voices that have been linked in people’s minds to the place, or a personality that appeared in the media after a ban, arrest, or deportation decision. This is understandable, because the personalities who serve in al-Aqsa often turn into popular symbols when the occupation authorities target them.
But it is more accurate professionally and historically to say that al-Aqsa has muezzins, and not one muezzin. Names change over the years, while the function itself remains constant as part of the living structure of the Mosque. This constancy in itself is a message. The occupation bets on exhausting the people, while the Jerusalemites respond by renewing presence and continuing service.
From here, reducing the issue to the name of one individual may wrong the reality of the scene. The call to prayer in al-Aqsa is not an isolated individual heroism, but a collective expression of the steadfastness of a religious and national institution that still guards the place with what it possesses of capabilities and will.
Minarets, voices, and the Jerusalemite memory
Al-Aqsa Mosque has historical minarets that have formed for centuries part of the visual and spiritual scene of Jerusalem. From these minarets, the call to prayer was linked to the memory of the people of the city, as it was linked to the lives of Palestinians in the vicinity of Jerusalem and outside it. The voice that comes out of al-Aqsa is not heard by people as a voice of prayer only, but as a confirmation that the Mosque is still present and that its people are still in it.
Jerusalem is a city where the symbolic clashes with the daily in every detail. And when the occupation tries to restrict raising the call to prayer in different places, or when it imposes checkpoints on the worshipers, it understands perfectly what this call represents. Therefore, the battle over the voice seems to be a direct extension of the battle over sovereignty and identity.
It is impossible to separate the muezzin of al-Aqsa from this memory. He is not a performer of a memorized ritual, but a carrier of the voice of a city resisting erasure. And even when people do not know his name, they know his impact. And this impact in Jerusalem is not minor.
Between function and Ribat
It may seem to some that the talk about the muezzin of al-Aqsa must remain confined to defining his function. But this is a simplification that does not fit Jerusalem nor the reality of the Mosque today. Al-Aqsa is not a mosque living in normal circumstances, but a site targeted politically, religiously, and through settlement. Therefore, everyone who works in it, from the guard to the preacher to the muezzin, moves within a highly sensitive equation.
Ribat here is not a media slogan. It is a disciplined daily presence, and a continuation in performing the duty despite the harassment. The muezzin who reaches his place at the specified time, and raises the call to prayer from the heart of this siege, practices an act that transcends the limits of routine. He says practically that the occupation did not succeed in snatching the place from its people, and that the management of the Mosque is still Palestinian-Arab-Islamic despite the attempts to circumvent it.
This does not mean ignoring the complexity. The working conditions in Jerusalem are harsh, and may vary from one stage to another according to the political and security escalation. But the constant is that the call to prayer in al-Aqsa remained standing, and this is a fact that has its weight in the battle of narrative and existence.
And over a period of 40 days since February 28, 2026, the voice of the call to prayer was absent from al-Aqsa, after the occupation forces closed it under the pretext of the state of emergency during its war with Iran.
What does the muezzin of al-Aqsa represent to the Palestinians?
The muezzin of al-Aqsa represents to the Palestinians more than an owner of a beautiful voice or a religious employee. He is part of the image of Jerusalem that the Palestinians want to preserve in the face of falsification. When people hear the call to prayer from al-Aqsa in a live broadcast or a circulated recording, they do not only receive a call to worship, but they evoke a besieged city and a people who are steadfast in it.
And because the Palestinian and Arab audience sometimes lives geographically far from Jerusalem and emotionally close to it, the voice of the call to prayer becomes one of the last living bridges that connect people to the place. Here, the personality of the muezzin, even if the details of his name and biography are not known, acquires an emotional and political dimension at the same time.
This explains why any assault on a muezzin, guard, or employee in al-Aqsa turns into an event that transcends its individual framework. The target in the end is not only a specific person, but the meaning that his presence carries inside the Mosque.
And according to Jerusalem Governorate, the occupation continues its constriction on the employees of the Islamic Endowment Department, where it deported about 25 employees and arrested four of them, since the beginning of the year (2026) in an attempt to weaken the ability of the Department to manage the affairs of the Mosque and organize religious activities.
Who is the muezzin of al-Aqsa in the public consciousness?
If we want a more accurate answer at the level of popular consciousness, it can be said that the muezzin of al-Aqsa is everyone who carries this trust inside the blessed Mosque under the supervision of the Islamic Endowments, and continues to raise the call to prayer despite the policy of constriction, incursion, and attempts to impose hegemony. This is a definition that may not satisfy the curiosity of those looking for a specific name, but it is the closest to the reality of al-Aqsa today.
Names are important when we document, archive, and give justice to those who exert effort. But the most important thing is not to overlook that the issue is bigger than the name. In Jerusalem, the workers in al-Aqsa turn into witnesses to a heavy stage of the city’s history. Some of them are known on a wide scale, and some of them remain away from the spotlight, however, all of them participate in protecting the Islamic presence of the Mosque, each from his position.
For this reason, the more correct question is perhaps not only who is the muezzin of al-Aqsa, but what does it mean that the Mosque maintains its minarets, its call to prayer, and its Palestinian crew despite all that is happening? Here the real answer begins.
In a time when the occupation tries to dismantle the meaning before the place, the call to prayer from al-Aqsa remains a clear reminder that Jerusalem is not a narrative open to absurdity, and that those who serve the Mosque, including the muezzins, are not passing faces, but a daily line of defense that deserves to be known, protected, and told.
