In early November 2021, according to figures the Israel Prison Service provided HaMoked: Center for the Defence of the Individual, Israel was holding 482 Palestinians in administrative detention. According to the Palestinian Authority Prisoners' Office, four of them are minors. Administrative detention is incarceration without trial alleging that a person intends to commit offense – without having done so yet. As the detainees are not given the grounds for their detention, which are based on classified evidence, they cannot mount a defense or refute the allegations made against them. Furthermore, unlike a regular prison sentence, administrative detention may be extended repeatedly, so the detainees cannot know when they will be released.
Israel uses this measure as a matter of routine. Over the years, it has held thousands of Palestinians in administrative detention for extended periods, some lasting years. Formally, judges review the administrative detention orders and the detainees may appeal to the Supreme Court. Yet this is merely a semblance of judicial overview and, barring highly exceptional cases, judges approve the vast majority of orders.
Administrative detention deeply affects the families of the detainees, especially in the case of minors. The families do not know when their loved ones will be released, and are forced to live in uncertainty for months on end. As Israel does not permit them regular contact, they have no way of knowing the physical and mental state of their incarcerated relatives. Phone calls are prohibited and visits are limited to a brief meeting behind a glass partition, with long intervals in between.
B'Tselem field researchers collected testimonies from the parents of three Palestinian minors currently being held in administrative detention. They described living in constant anxiety over their sons' wellbeing, with the uncertainty of never knowing when they will be released.
In a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad, Mu'amar Nakhleh (49) from Ramallah described how his family is coping with the incarceration of his 17-year-old son Amal:
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Amal Nakhleh, 17. Photo courtesy of family
Amal was born when his mother was six months pregnant. The doctors hooked him up to a ventilator and we feared he wouldn't survive. When we were asked for a name, we named him Amal (hope) because we hoped he would live. He was discharged from hospital about three months later.
In June 2020, Amal started vomiting blood. He had difficulty breathing and swallowing. Medical tests found a tumor in his lungs, which required surgery that could only be performed at the French Hospital in Jerusalem. We applied for permits to enter Israel for me and for him, so I could accompany him to the surgery, but my request was denied on security grounds. The ISA summoned Amal for questioning at Ofer Prison. On 1 June 2020, he met with them. They checked his ID card and after making him wait for two hours, they told him to go home because the interrogator wasn't there.
A few days later, we managed to sneak Amal into the hospital in Jerusalem with the help of some friends, and he had the surgery. He was discharged after five days. A few days later, someone from the ISA called us and summoned Amal for questioning again. I contacted the human rights organization Addameer, and they contacted the Israeli authorities and sent them his medical reports to prove he was ill. The Israelis informed Addameer he would not be arrested at that time. In October 2020, Amal was diagnosed with myasthenia gravis, a very rare disease that causes difficulty breathing and swallowing food, as well as cramps. He has to take medication every four hours.
On 2 November 2020, Amal was on his way to Rawabi with friends when soldiers arrested him. He was held for 38 days and released on 10 December. On Monday, 18 January 2021, he was summoned to the Palestinian Intelligence offices. They held him there overnight, and he came home the following day. He only managed to sleep at home for one night. Then, on the night between Wednesday and Thursday, soldiers and ISA agents came to our house at 3:00 A.M. They searched the house, told Amal to get dressed and get his medication, and arrested him. I immediately contacted Addameer to could find out where they had taken him. They checked me and informed me that the ISA had transferred Amal to administrative detention at Megiddo Prison.
Since then, his detention has been extended three times. His lawyer told us it might be extended a fourth time, and we're very anxious and tense. We don't have a moment’s peace. We worry about him all the time. His condition is currently stable and hasn’t grown worse, but he's at risk because of the length of the detention and his illness.
On 19 September 2021, when they extended Amal's detention for the third time, it was harder and more painful than the previous extensions because that time, he wasn't given a week’s notice and we believed he was about to be released. It felt like everything was happening in slow motion. I had calculated the dates and imagined: Now Amal's getting out of prison, he’s about to arrive and knock on the door, now is the moment we meet, a dream come true. But all that was taken away from us at the last minute, when our lawyer told us that minutes before he was supposed to be released, his detention had been extended for four months.
Since Amal was arrested, we've applied for a permit to visit him several times, but they only allowed his mother and me to visit him once, in April 2021. We saw him behind a glass partition and couldn't even hug him. The visit only lasted 40 minutes, which was barely enough time to ask him how he was doing and how his health was. He was tired and weak and said he was taking his medication regularly. I felt that he was just saying that so we wouldn't worry. Since the visit, we've applied every month, but all the requests have been rejected. They say I’m denied entry because I've been in prison, and that's why my wife is also denied. We submit requests every month. One time, the Red Cross informed us that we’d received permission to visit, but five days later they got back to us and said the ISA had gone back on their word and the permit had been revoked. That was really tough. Five days ago, we were informed we’ve received a permit to visit him on 8 November 2021. Amal's mother and I are now very anxious that our permit will be revoked again.
Update: On 8 November 2021, Amal Nakhleh's father and brother visited him in prison.
In a testimony she gave B'Tselem field researcher Musa Abu Hashhash, Safaa al-Harimi (43), a mother of five from Wadi Rahal in Bethlehem District, recounted the arrest of her 17-year-old son Sami:
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Sami al-Harimi, 17. Photo courtesy of family
My son Sami ran our family's small grocery store. On 20 September 2021, while he was asleep in bed, soldiers entered our home. Sami yelled that he hadn't done anything and that he didn't want to go to prison. At first, they took him for questioning at the Russian Compound in Jerusalem. After 10 days, he was issued an administrative detention order for four months. Our lawyer said the arrest was probably related to incitement on Facebook, but he didn't know any more than that. At first, we didn't even know which prison Sami was in, until we contacted HaMoked and found out he was in Ofer Prison.
I don't know why the military arrested my son. He worked in the grocery store from morning till night. It's very hard without him. I think about him all the time: when we sit down to eat, when I go into his room and see his empty bed. I keep calling the lawyer to check if there's any new information and if he's visited him. I'm trying to find out if he's coming home at the end of the four months’ detention, but no one knows. I worry about Sami very much. He's still a child and doesn't know how to deal with something like this. I saw how scared he was when he was arrested.
In a testimony she gave B'Tselem field researcher Abdulkarim Sadi, Asmaa Mansur (37), a mother of four from Jenin, spoke about the administrative detention of her 17-year-old son Muhammad:
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Muhammad Mansur, 17. Photo courtesy of family
In the early hours of 8 April 2021, soldiers entered our home. It was the first time in my life that happened to me. The soldiers broke the door down while we were asleep, and we woke up from their shouting. We ran to the door to stop them from entering the kids’ rooms. Three of our kids live with us – Muhammad (17), Masah (16) and Maryam (11). Meanwhile, the kids woke up from the shouting and came out of their rooms.
The soldiers went for Muhammad immediately. I saw one of them hit him on the head with a rifle butt. Another one tied Muhammad’s hands together, and then they put him in one of the rooms. After about five minutes, they led him out of the house without letting us give him clothes, say goodbye or hug him. They took away his cell phone. I asked them to let me say goodbye to him, but they yelled at me and wouldn't let me come near. When they led Muhammad out, I was shocked to see dozens of soldiers surrounding the house in every direction. There was also a masked man in plain clothes with them.
After they arrested Muhammad, he was taken for questioning at Jalameh Prison (Kishon) and held there for 28 days. Then he was transferred to administrative detention at Megiddo Prison. The first administrative detention order was issued for six months, until 8 October 2021. We expected him to be released, but the day before the order expired, the prison told us not to pick him up because his detention had been extended by another four months, until 8 February 2022. We couldn't believe it was happening.
I still have an anxiety attack whenever I think about the day he was arrested. I'm very sad about Muhammad. He was an outstanding student. The day before he was arrested, he had a test in which he got an A. Being in prison has denied him the opportunity to continue studying in high school, and deprived me of the joy of seeing him graduate successfully. I worry he’ll be in prison for a long time and it will ruin his future. Muhammad hoped to study abroad after graduating from high school.
Since Muhammad was arrested, we’ve only been allowed to visit him once. That was six months and five days after the arrest. It's hard to describe how shocking it is to see your son behind a glass partition. His father and I spoke with him on the phone for 45 minutes, through the glass. We both cried non-stop. Since then, only his lawyer has been able to visit him.
Since 1 January 2022, all the Palestinians in Israeli administrative detention have been boycotting the military court proceedings in their cases. No Israeli official has addressed their concerns, and the courts continue to hear the detention orders as usual. Since the boycott began, the courts have heard dozens of cases – in the absence of the detainees and their legal counsel. The boycott is intended to unmask the façade of judicial review regarding administrative detention orders. In these hearings, the detainees merely play the part of extras in a proceeding aimed at sanctioning their incarceration. The state’s choice to continue the hearings as usual reinforces this claim, demonstrating that the detainees’ physical presence in court is meaningless. According to official military figures, the amount of administrative detention orders rejected by the courts is negligible. In the vast majority of cases, the judges unwaveringly accept the military commander’s discretion, at most slightly shortening the length of the detention: From the beginning of 2009 through 2013, a total of 3,996 administrative detention orders were issued for Palestinians. Of the orders heard by the courts during that time, 2,422 (about 60%) were authorized and 1,052 (about 26%) were shortened with no restriction placed on their extension. Another 99 orders (2.5%) were rejected, 196 (5%) were shortened and their extension restricted, and 214 (5.3%) were authorized and their extension restricted. From the beginning of 2015 to the end of July 2017, a total of 3,909 administrative detention orders were issued for Palestinians. Of the orders heard by the courts during that time, 2,953 (about 75%) were authorized and 390 (about 10%) were shortened with no restrictions placed on their extension. Another 48 orders (1.2%) were rejected, 181 (4.6%) were shortened and their extension restricted, and 320 (8.1%) were authorized and their extension restricted. The decision to place a Palestinian in administrative detention is made by the regional military commander – without indictment or trial. Under the military law that applies in the West Bank, a person can be administratively detained for six months. However, the order can be extended indefinitely, so the detention is effectively unlimited and detainees never know when they will be released. Individuals held in administrative detention must be brought before a military judge within eight days – either of the original detention order or of its extension. The judge may uphold the order, reject it, or shorten the period of detention stipulated in it. The decision may be appealed to the Military Court of Appeals or the subject of a High Court petition. However, the judicial review is largely a façade. In the overwhelming majority of cases, the judges accept the ISA’s claim regarding the “security risk” that justifies the detainee’s immediate incarceration. As the evidence for the claim is not disclosed to the detainee and his counsel, he never knows the reason for the detention and cannot challenge the allegations supposedly made against him. In some cases, the judges request to see the classified material; in others, they do not review it or make any attempt to examine the information that led to the detention. In any case, the fact that the detainee cannot address this information empties the judicial process of any meaning. The major problem with the judicial review is the court’s working assumption that administrative detention is a lawful measure. The judges only question how this power is implemented: did the military commander apply reasonable discretion in the case before them? At no point do they examine the legality of the measure itself. In doing so, the judges completely ignore the fact that Israel’s use of administrative detention renders it unlawful. In violation of the restrictions placed by international law, Israel makes routine, extensive use of administrative detention. Over the years, it has placed thousands of Palestinians behind bars without charging them, without telling them what they are accused of, without disclosing the alleged evidence to them or to their lawyers, and without informing them when they will be released. According to the Israel Prison Service, Israel is currently holding 579 Palestinians in administrative detention. During the first and second intifadas, Israel held many hundreds of Palestinians in administrative detention. Since March 2002, not a single month has gone by without Israel holding at least 100 Palestinians in administrative detention. In 2003 (during the second intifada), the figure crossed the 1,000 mark several times. Unlike a prison sentence following trial, which is meant to punish a person for having committed a crime, administrative detention is meant to prevent a future crime. However, Israel uses this measure as a quick and easy substitute for a criminal trial, especially when the authorities have no proof of guilt or do not wish to disclose the evidence supposedly in their possession. Israel also exploits the availability of this measure to incarcerate Palestinians solely for holding particular political opinions or participating in nonviolent political activity. Palestinians are held in administrative detention for lengthy periods, lasting from months to several years with repeated extensions. In many cases, a new detention order is issued just before the current order expires, when the detainee is already preparing to go home and the family is waiting. Extensions are a matter of course. For example: At the end of August 2012, Israel was holding 184 Palestinians in administrative detention, 29 of them for half a year to a year (i.e., their detention had been extended at least once) and 106 for more than a year (i.e., their detention had been extended at least twice). At the end of August 2016, Israel was holding 652 Palestinians in administrative detention, 279 of them for half a year to a year (i.e., their detention had been extended at least once) and 96 for more than a year (i.e., their detention had been extended at least twice). At the end of August 2020, Israel was holding 355 Palestinians in administrative detention, 134 of them for half a year to a year (i.e., their detention had been extended at least once) and 54 for more than a year (i.e., their detention had been extended at least twice). Administrative detention is a cruel measure that the Israeli regime uses extensively and unlawfully. For the detainees, the hardship of being incarcerated in harsh prison conditions and being cut off from one’s family, friends and daily life is compounded by unbearable uncertainty – regarding both the reason for the detention and the date of release. The detention orders are heard in military courts, where the judges and prosecutors are uniformed Israelis operating by power of military orders. Some administrative detention orders are also the subject of High Court petitions, which are heard by Supreme Court Justices. They, too, do not represent the interests of the society to which the detainees belong, but rather the interests of the occupation regime. As such, they do not serve as an impartial arbitrator seeking justice; instead, they are a key mechanism in upholding Israel’s control over Palestinians in the West Bank.
In the early hours of 25 June 2020 and 7 July 2020, dozens of soldiers raided two homes of the extended Abu Hashhsash family in al-Fawwar Refugee Camp, under the pretext of searching for three family members. The soldiers entered both homes without masks. In the first, they beat three family members and blew up a fuse box in the metal workshop of another member. In the second, they set a dog on three members of the family and beat one of them. In both cases, right after the raid, an ISA agent called the family, who were not suspected of anything, and demanded that the relatives the military was looking for turn themselves in. In one case, the agent explicitly threatened that soldiers would return and turn the family's home into a “battleground”. Soldiers raiding Palestinians’ homes at the dead of night, waking entire families, including small children and infants, has long since been a fixture in the routine that the occupation regime imposes in the West Bank. In these raids – which, this time, included the use of violence and intimidation against family members, as well as damage to property – soldiers are not required to show a search warrant or even provide a reason. This is yet another example of the military’s abuse of power, even in the height of a global pandemic, with a lockdown imposed on most of the West Bank and fear among residents running higher than ever. A description of the incidents and testimonies given to B’Tselem field researcher Musa Abu Hashhsash (a member of the family) follows. 25 June 2020, the home of Sanaa and Yusef Abu Hashhsash: On Thursday, 25 June 2020, at around 4:00 A.M., some 30 soldiers raided a building in the center of al-Fawar Refugee Camp that is home to extended Abu Hashhsash family. Seven siblings live in the building, four of them married with children, bringing the total number of inhabitants to 25, including 12 minors . The soldiers said they were there to arrest two of the siblings, Sari (41) and Muhammad (52), who were not home that night. The soldiers first entered Yusef (46) and Sanaa Abu (41) Hashhash’s apartment on the ground floor and ordered the couple and their eight-year-old daughter, Jud, into the living room. Another two of their children, Yasin (17) and Adam (19), ran out of the house as soon as the soldiers came in. Islam (12) continued sleeping and Mahmoud (20) was sleeping at his uncle’s home on the first floor. Three soldiers stood watch over the family by the entrance to the living room, with their weapons drawn. The rest of the force went up to the first floor, where three of the single siblings live. Ya’qub (33) opened the door and was immediately assaulted by a soldier who hit him with a rifle butt and broke his nose. The soldiers then led him and his brother Ibrahim (42), who was not allowed to get dressed, down to the living room on the ground floor. One of the soldiers then forcefully woke Mahmoud and dragged him by the hair to the living room. The soldiers continued to the second floor, where three of the married siblings live with their families. One of the apartments was empty that night. In the second, the soldiers asked Iyad (45) about Sari and Muhammad’s whereabouts. In the last home, a soldier assaulted Ziad (58), slapping him and kicking him in the abdomen after he stated he did not know where his brothers were. The soldiers then took him down to Yusef and Sanaa’s living room. About half an hour later, the soldiers ordered the family to move to the building’s stairway and then went down the ground floor, where they blew up a fuse box in Yusef Abu Hashhsash’s metal workshop. Then they left the building. Ya’qub Abu Hashhsash had surgery to fix his broken nose on 29 June 2020. As soon as the soldiers left, an ISA agent called the family and threatened to send the soldiers back unless Sari and Muhammad turned themselves in. He also called other relatives and made the same threat several times a day for three days running, after which Sari Abu Hashhsash turned himself in at the al-Fawar checkpoint. Following his arrest and interrogation, a three-month administrative detention order was issued against him. As of the time of publication, he is being held at the Ofer military prison. In a testimony she gave on 1 July 2020, Sanaa Abu Hashhsash, a married mother of five, described that day’s events: On Thursday, 25 June 2020, at around 4:00 A.M., I woke up in a fright from banging on the door. My husband went to open it and dozens of soldiers suddenly came in. One of them, I think he was an officer, ordered us to go into the living room and told the soldiers to search the house. I realized they were looking for my brothers-in-law, Muhammad and Sari, who weren’t home. My husband, our young daughter Jud (8) and I went into the living room. My sons Adam (19) and Yasin (17) ran out of the house as soon as the soldiers entered. Islam (12) continued sleeping, and Muhammad (20) was sleeping at his uncle’s apartment on the first floor. Jud was petrified. It was the first time soldiers raided our home. She cried and held me tight. After a few minutes, my brother-in-law Ya’qub came into the living room. His nose was broken, and it looked crooked. A few minutes later, Ibrahim, my husband’s second brother, came in half naked, barefoot and only wearing boxer briefs. I was embarrassed to see him in that state, and so was he. Three soldiers stood at the doorway to the living room, pointing their weapons at us. One of them told us not to move or talk. A few minutes later, the soldiers brought in Ziad, my husband’s brother, and then they brought in my son Mahmoud. Later, Mahmoud told me that soldiers had come into the room he was sleeping in and one of them had kicked him and dragged him by the hair into the living room. They held us there for about half an hour, and then ordered us to go stand in the building’s stairway. Some of the soldiers entered a livestock pen near the house, where my husband has his workshop. A few minutes later I heard an explosion, and then they left the building. When we went back into the apartment, I was in shock and I tried to calm my daughter Jud down. Then we went to the workshop and I saw they’d blown up the fuse box. It was one of the hardest experiences I’ve ever had. Not only did they lock me in a room with my little daughter and my brother-in-law, who was half naked, while they kept pointing their weapons at us, but I was also worried about Yasin and Adam. I was afraid the soldiers would beat them like they beat Ya’qub, or that they’d been arrested. I was also scared that a confrontation would start between my brothers-in-law and the soldiers, and then they would start shooting. My husband Yusef is our main provider, and now after they blew up the fuse box in his workshop, it will be very hard on us financially. They caused thousands of shekels of damage, and business has been slow recently anyway because of the coronavirus. They punished me and my family for something we were not involved in, just because we live in the same place. In a testimony he gave on 26 June 2020, Ya’qub Abu Hashhsash recounted: At around 4:00 A.M., I was woken by noise from the stairway. I opened my bedroom door and suddenly, a soldier hit me in the nose with his rifle butt. When I left the room, I saw that many soldiers had raided the building and were spread out inside it. My nose really hurt , and before I realized what was happening, two soldiers carried me to the ground floor and brought me to the living room in my brother Yusef’s apartment. Yusef’s wife, Sanaa, and his little daughter were already there. Three soldiers were standing in the doorway and pointing their weapons at us. After a few minutes, they brought in my brother Ibrahim, who was half naked, and then they also brought in my brother Ziad and my nephew Mahmoud. I put my hand over my nose and tried to stop the bleeding. The pain was unbearable. Sanaa and her daughter were frightened, and she held onto her mother and cried. After about half an hour, the soldiers took us out to the building’s stairway, and they went into my brother Yusef’s workshop. We heard an explosion. We later found out that they’d blown up the fuse box. Before they left, they ordered us to tell my brothers Muhammad and Sari that they had to turn themselves in. In the morning, I went to al-Ahli Hospital in Hebron. They examined and x-rayed me, and it turned out that I had a fracture in my nose and that I have to undergo surgery, which is scheduled for 29 June 2020. In a testimony he gave on 2 July 2020, Ziad Abu Hashhsash, a married father of two, related: I woke up to loud banging on the front door. I opened up quickly and saw four soldiers in front of me, asking about my brother Sari. I told them I was asleep and that I didn’t know where he was. One of them slapped me and then repeated the question. I told him I didn’t know. Then, he slapped me again , kicked me in the stomach and ordered me to get out of the house quickly. My wife and two kids were away at her parent’s house. The soldiers carried me to the ground floor and put me in Yusef and Sanaa’s living room. My niece Jud, my brother Ya’qub, who I noticed had a nose injury, and my brother Ibrahim, who was half naked, were already in the living room. After a few minutes, they brought in my nephew Mahmoud. They held us there for half an hour. Meanwhile, they searched Yusef’s house and the livestock pen. They then ordered us to stand in the stairway. A few minutes later, I heard an explosion coming from Yusef’s workshop. The soldiers were looking for my brothers Muhammad and Sari, who weren’t home. After three days of phone calls from an ISA agent named “Nidal”, who threatened to raid the house again and turn it into a “battleground”, Sari turned himself in at the al-Fawwar checkpoint. 2 July 2020, the home of Arij and Musa Jamil Abu Hashhash: Musa (51) and Arij Abu Hashhsash (41) and their five children, aged 10 to 21. Arij and Musa are distant relatives of the two wanted brothers . The soldiers said they had come to arrest the couple’s son, Muhammad (19), who was not home at the time. The soldiers, accompanied by a dog, went up to the first floor and blew up a front door leading to a guest room, where 16-year-old Aysar was sitting. The dog lunged at him and left the room. Moments later, it came back and attacked Aysar again. Aysar held the dog’s head to stop it from moving, and a soldier yelled at him and ordered him to let go. One of the soldiers then told Aysar to stand with his face to the wall and his hands in the air. Some of the soldiers left to search the other rooms. The dog pounced on Arij and pushed her against the wall and then knocked down Musa, who has a speech impediment and difficulty walking. The dog attacked him again as he lay on the floor. After Musa had sat down in a chair opposite his bedroom, two soldiers ordered him to move into the living room. When he refused, one of them dragged him in by the arm. Then, they ordered the rest of the family into living room. An officer took Aysar to one of the bedrooms and questioned him about his brother Muhammad’s whereabouts. Every time he responded that he did not know where Muhammad was, the officer hit him. About half an hour later, the soldiers left the house. Immediately afterwards, an ISA agent called the family’s home and threatened Arij that if her son did not turn himself in that day, the soldiers would come back. About an hour later , around 6:30 A.M., Muhammad arrived at the checkpoint and turned himself him. He was taken to an interrogation facility in Ashkelon and then to the ISA detention facility in the Russian Compound in Jerusalem. From there he was transferred to the Ofer military prison, where he is currently being held. In a testimony he gave on 23 June 2020, Aysar Abu Hashhsash spoke about the incident: That morning, my brother Muhammad and I were in the living room, playing a game of PUBG on the mobile phone. One of our relatives asked Muhammad to help him unload petrol at a station near our house, so he left and I changed into my pajamas and got ready for bed. Then I heard a noise in the stairway. I thought it was Muhammad, so I went out to check why he was back so soon. Suddenly, I saw soldiers heading up to our floor. I closed the door, sat down on the couch and pretended to be busy with my phone. After a few minutes, soldiers broke down our door. A brown dog suddenly jumped at me and then he let go of me. It went out of the room and then came back and attacked me again. I grabbed its head to try and keep it off me, and a soldier yelled at me and ordered me to let go. The dog left the room and then the same soldier ordered me to get up and face the wall with my hands in the air. I heard my mother shouting outside the room, but I didn’t know what was going on in the rest of the house. I saw two soldiers. One of them was dragging my father into the living room. A few minutes later they brought my mother into the living room and then my sisters Athir (21) and Batul, who is my twin, and my little brother Tamim (10). The soldiers came and went, and I heard noises from the other rooms. One soldier stood behind me, I think he was an officer, and gave me three slaps on the back of my neck. He asked me about my brother Muhammad. I told him I didn’t know where he was and then he grabbed me by both cheeks and told me I was lying. Then he let go of me and went over to my father. He asked him about Muhammad and my father didn’t answer. My mother told the officer that Muhmmad doesn’t have a phone right now because it’s broken. The officer took me out of the living room and into my sister’s room. He pushed my face into her mattress and started asking again about Muhammad and where he was hiding the weapons . Every time I said I didn’t know, he punched me in the back. This happened several times and I kept answering the same thing. Finally, he hit me in the upper back with the butt of his rifle and made me stand up. Then he took me back to the living room and ordered me to stand facing the wall. Meanwhile, the soldiers searched the house. They asked my mother about the ground floor. They left the living room and I thought that they were gone, so I opened the door to check, and then one of them yelled at me to close it. Right after they left, I told my parents and my uncle, who lives next to us, what had happened in my sister’s bedroom. In a testimony he gave on 23 July 2020, Musa Jamil Abu Hashhsash related: I woke up from my wife’s shouting. She was standing outside our bedroom. I went out to see what was happening and before I could get a grip, a brown dog jumped at me and knocked me to the ground. He ran to the bathroom and then came back and jumped me again, while I was lying on the floor. I was shocked and didn’t understand what was happening. I barely managed to get up and sit on a chair in front of our bedroom, when two soldiers came to me and told me to go into the living room. I ignored them, and then one of them dragged me by the arm into the living room. I heard my wife yelling at them: “Leave him alone, he’s sick”. I went into the living room and saw my son Aysar standing there with his face to the wall and his hands in the air. The soldier sat me on a chair and a few minutes later, they brought my wife Arij, my two daughters, Asil and Batul, and my son Tamim into the room. I saw one of the soldiers, I think he was an officer, slap my son several times on the back of his neck and tell him he was lying. The same officer started asking me about Muhammad and ordered me to call him. My wife intervened and told him that Muhammad doesn’t have a phone. The officer asked about my illness, but I didn’t answer. I saw him take Aysar out of the room. About five minutes later, he brought him back in and ordered him to go back to facing the wall with his hands in the air. The officer put a soldier on guard to watch over us, with his weapon drawn, and left the room. A few minutes later, the officer and other soldiers came back into the room and asked my wife what’s on the ground floor. Then they left and ordered us to stay sitting and not move. The raid on our home was unnecessarily violent. My hand hurt for a week because of the dog’s attack. In a testimony she gave on 23 July 2020, Arij Abu Hashhsash recounted: At around 6:00 A.M., the soldiers left. About ten minutes later, an ISA agent named “Nidal” called and spoke to me in Arabic. He told me that he was looking for my son Muhammad, and that he knows he’s not a criminal but he’s suspected of a few things and he wants to punish him by law. He said Muhammad had to turn himself in that day . I didn’t answer him, and then he said he’d give me ten minutes to think about it and call back to see what I’d decided. After ten minutes, he called again and I told him Muhammad would turn himself in. I was afraid that if he didn’t, the soldiers would raid our home again and scare the whole family, especially my sick husband. Shortly after that, my brother-in-law Hani arrived and went with Muhammad to the checkpoint at the entrance to the camp. Muhammad turned himself over to the soldiers, and I was told they took him to a prison in Ashkelon and from there to the Russian Compound. They scheduled a court hearing for him on 16 July 2020 . For me, the raid was a moment of horror that I’ll never forget. I was most frightened when the dog attacked me, my sick husband and my son Aysar.
Israel Police continues to abuse Palestinians in al-’Esawiyah, including false arrests of minors, in operation ongoing since April 2019 Despite the unprecedented health crisis requiring residents of Israel and the Occupied Territories to take extreme social isolation measures, the Israel Police have chosen now, of all times, to escalate their abuse and collective punishment of Palestinians in the East Jerusalem neighborhood of al-’Esawiyah, as part of an operation that began in April 2019. Border Police and Special Patrol Unit officers invade the crowded neighborhood daily, even at night, and more so on weekends, for no apparent reason and initiate friction with the residents. In the ensuing confrontations, the police act violently, firing sponge rounds, tear gas canisters and stun grenades. They also close off the entrances to the neighborhood. During these incursions, the police arrest residents, mostly minors, and take them to a police station where they are interrogated alone. Most minors are released after a short period, sometimes after spending all night in custody. The police abuse of Palestinians in al-’Esawiyah, by now a permanent feature of life in the neighborhood, is illegal and cannot be justified even under the usual routine of occupation. Yet at this sensitive time, such conduct exposes residents to substantial, completely unnecessary health risks, as it encourages gatherings and forces arrested residents, including many minors, to leave home and be around strangers. The police conduct is jeopardizing public safety (including the health of the police officers) and violating the medical guidelines on social isolation. The fact that Israeli authorities disregard the lives of al-’Esawiyah residents, including children and teens, is nothing new. Yet continuing and even escalating such conduct during a pandemic is an especially appalling manifestation of this policy.
