The Temple Mount: The very words evoke strong feelings among diverse peoples. Let us explore other aspects of what makes this site arguably “the center of the world.”
For Jews, the Temple Mount is the site of the First and Second Temples – the center of ancient worship and the heart of Jewish memory. Yet the rhythms of modern life on the Mount are shaped in large part by the Muslim calendar, especially Ramadan, which brings tens of thousands of worshipers to al-Haram al-Sharif.
During this month-long daytime fast, the esplanade is crowded, especially in the final 10 nights, and security is heightened to protect and control tens of thousands of worshipers – and the Jews who brave the ascent, as well as those praying at the Western Wall below.
For Jewish visitors, Ramadan is not just an observation of Muslim practice – it is a period when access and visibility on the Mount are constrained, and when the smallest gestures of prayer can carry heightened significance. Whispering a “Shema” prayer, prostrating quietly, or holding and learning from a Torah page becomes a deliberate act of devotion against the backdrop of centuries of exclusion.
Historically, Jewish access to the Mount has been limited, and tensions have flared during Ramadan when overlapping holidays or large crowds have complicated movement. Today, police allow controlled Jewish prayer in certain areas – a small but powerful reclaiming of presence during times when the site holy to two cultures is otherwise filled.
“There has never been a time in Jerusalem’s history with such religious tolerance for all believers like this period of Israeli rule,” said Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz, rabbi of the Western Wall and Holy Sites. “The hundreds of thousands of Muslims who ascend the Temple Mount uninterrupted daily, and even more so throughout the blessed days of Ramadan, can testify to this.”
For Jewish visitors, Ramadan underscores the fragility – and the value – of access. It is a reminder that while the Mount remains under Waqf administration, the right to ascend and pray, even quietly, is a hard-won achievement. Each visit, each whispered prayer, is part of a continuum that stretches from Solomon to today: a living connection to Jewish history at the site where history itself was and continues to be made.
Perspectives: The Temple Mount today – change in practice
For decades after 1967, the Temple Mount was defined by a simple rule: Jews could visit but not pray. Muslim worshipers claimed the esplanade; Israeli police enforced quiet access below. The arrangement was called the “status quo,” and for a long time it mostly worked – until recently.
Small but meaningful changes are quietly shifting that balance. Jewish visitors now regularly ascend the Mount, sometimes bringing prayer books, sometimes whispering under their breath. Police often allow these gestures, as long as they are discreet and brief. As mentioned in the main article, one visitor described prostrating for up to five minutes without interruption – an apparently small event but large in the grand spiritual scheme and historic for those who have long been excluded.
The Mount’s paradox is clear: Laws may or may not change, but practice does. Court rulings affirm the right to visit certain areas, while rabbinic authorities weigh ritual restrictions; police calibrate security, and visitors navigate the gray zone. The Mount is controlled, yet negotiable; sacred, yet monitored.
High-profile visits have a way of escalating attention. Politicians have ascended and walked the site – like former prime minister Ariel Sharon in 2000 when he was the leader of the opposition and, more recently, National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, who has ascended several times, most recently on October 8, 2025, the day after the second anniversary of the Oct. 7 massacre.
Such visits, whether drawing scrutiny and criticism from some, or support and encouragement from others, remind everyone that such presence is both symbolic and significant, and IT can also be provocative. These visits are rare but potent reminders that the Mount is always more than a physical space; it is a living focal point of memory and sovereignty.
For decades after 1967, the Temple Mount was defined by a simple rule: Jews could visit but not pray. Muslim worshipers claimed the esplanade; Israeli police enforced quiet access below. The arrangement was called the “status quo,” and for a long time it mostly worked – until recently.
Small but meaningful changes are quietly shifting that balance. Jewish visitors now regularly ascend the Mount, sometimes bringing prayer books, sometimes whispering under their breath. Police often allow these gestures, as long as they are discreet and brief. As mentioned in the main article, one visitor described prostrating for up to five minutes without interruption – an apparently small event but large in the grand spiritual scheme and historic for those who have long been excluded.
The Mount’s paradox is clear: Laws may or may not change, but practice does. Court rulings affirm the right to visit certain areas, while rabbinic authorities weigh ritual restrictions; police calibrate security, and visitors navigate the gray zone. The Mount is controlled, yet negotiable; sacred, yet monitored.
High-profile visits have a way of escalating attention. Politicians have ascended and walked the site – like former prime minister Ariel Sharon in 2000 when he was the leader of the opposition and, more recently, National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, who has ascended several times, most recently on October 8, 2025, the day after the second anniversary of the Oct. 7 massacre.
Such visits, whether drawing scrutiny and criticism from some, or support and encouragement from others, remind everyone that such presence is both symbolic and significant, and it can also be provocative. These visits are rare but potent reminders that the Mount is always more than a physical space; it is a living focal point of memory and sovereignty.
Debates continue behind the scenes, sometimes spilling out into the open. Some rabbis forbid ascent on halachic grounds; others advocate for broader Jewish presence. Activist groups press for expanded access, while police remain cautious, mindful of crowd dynamics and regional and cultural sensitivities.
On the Muslim side, fears of encroachment persist, shaping responses even to quiet, controlled visits, as mentioned in the main article. But why should Jews feel like they are encroaching on a place that is originally – and should now be at least equally – theirs?
The result is a holy, contentious site where tiny shifts carry enormous symbolic weight. Each allowed prayer, each permitted tour, is a visible crack in decades – or even centuries-old patterns.
For those who climb its steps, the experience is more than procedural – it is a living connection to centuries of prayer and Jewish history. On the Temple Mount, the “status quo” is never still; it moves and shifts – incrementally, carefully, and with immense meaning.