The occupation routine in Balata Refugee Camp near Nablus: Army regularly accompanies hundreds of Jewish worshippers to “Joseph’s Tomb,” imposing draconian restrictions on the residents
The “Joseph’s Tomb” compound is situated on the eastern outskirts of Nablus, close to Balata Refugee Camp. In an unusual step, the Interim Accords (“Oslo Agreement”) established that the compound would constitute an Israeli enclave inside Area A. Once every two weeks (and sometimes as often as twice a week, during the Jewish High Holiday season), the Israeli Army accompanies night-time visits to the compound attended by hundreds of Jewish worshippers. During the visits, the military imposes sweeping restrictions on the freedom of movement of Palestinian residents in the area, who become prisoners in their own homes. During the visits, youths from Balata Refugee Camp throw stones at the worshippers and the security forces. The soldiers respond by firing tear gas, which spreads into local homes. In some cases, live fire is used. Youths have been injured during these clashes.
The visits make the lives of local residents a misery. The fact that they take place at night disrupts the residents’ sleep, due to the noise caused by the worshippers and the confrontations. Each such visit raises anxiety among the residents – including families with young children, elderly people, and the sick – who are forced to close themselves in their homes.
Image
Palestinian girls pass by the ''Tomb of Joseph'' compound (the white dome) in Nablus. Photo by Salma a-Deb’i, B'Tselem, 1 Nov. 2017.
During the period August-October 2017, B'Tselem documented several visits to the tomb compound, each involving hundreds of worshippers. Dozens of soldiers accompanied the visits, shutting down the area and restriction the movement of residents inside the camp. B'Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb’i collected testimonies from residents in the area, as detailed below.
For many years, Israel has preferred the interests of Jewish worshippers to the rights of the Palestinian residents, including their right to security, wellbeing, and their daily routine. This order of priorities is not unique to “Joseph’s Tomb.” For fifty years, Israel has maintained a violent daily routine in the Territories. All the Israeli authorities act above the heads of the Palestinian residents, who are completely excluded from decision-making processes relating to their lives. The combination of the lack of political representation for Palestinians and the imposition of an Israeli law enforcement system that consistently prevents action against those who harm Palestinians means that there are virtually no limits on physical or administrative violence, and allows all aspects of their lives to be harmed. In some cases, Palestinian rights are violated without any justification, while in others flimsy security justifications are employed. In all cases, however, the violations are grounded in the overt preference for Israeli needs and interests. This is true throughout the Territories, and it is true in the reality imposed on the residents of Balata Refugee Camp. As the testimonies explain, this reality is dominated by constant uncertainty regarding the present and the future, the violation of privacy, and the potential disruption of personal life at any moment.
‘Amer Saqer, 38, a bakery owner and resident of ‘Askar Refugee Camp to the east of Nablus, described the impact of the frequent entry of soldiers to the camp on his work:
I live with my family in ‘Askar Refugee Camp, and every day I walk to my bakery, which is situated on the road connecting Balata Refugee Camp to Nablus and the villages to the east. My workers and I usually arrive at the bakery at three o’clock in the morning and start work straight away. But in recent years we have suffered from the visits by settlers to Jacob’s Tomb once every two weeks, accompanied by soldiers. When they arrive, they deploy everywhere and we can’t get to work on time. They don’t let anyone through. We have to stay at home until the soldiers leave, or search for alternative routes to the bakery. Even if we manage to get here we can’t open the bakery, because it’s close to the center of the events. When I open the bakery after the clashes have ended, it’s full of tear gas and I have to open the doors and wait for it to disperse so that we can work. The delay in opening the bakery leads to delays in preparing the dough, so that residents get their bread late and look elsewhere. I end up with unsold bread and have to sell some of it at a loss and give the remainder to the poor.
Nur Dweikat, 58, married and mother of five, lives about 50 meters from the northern entrance to Balata Refugee Camp. In testimony taken by B'Tselem on 12 September 2017, she stated:
On 28 August 2017, at about 11:50 PM, I heard a commotion outside my home. My son had told me earlier that the settlers were planning to enter Joseph’s Tomb in order to pray there. Before the settlers come, the soldiers usually disperse through the area around the tomb and the whole area to the east, and about two hours later the settlers arrive.
What bothers me are the sounds of shooting, stun grenades, and tear gas. The gas smell and burning sensation in the are terrible and I’m scared that someone will choke because of it, so I close all the windows at home and turn the air-conditioner on as soon as I hear that the soldiers are coming. In the past, before social media, we didn’t know in advance that the army was coming, but today we learn of this through the social media and we can prepare. We make sure to get home early and not to dawdle outside, and to let our guests know about it. A few times in the past, we had guests and had to smuggle them out by roundabout routes. When my grandchildren want to come to sleep over, I tell them that they’re welcome on any day, but not when the settlers come.
Rima Dweikat, 47, married and mother of four, is a resident of Balata Refugee Camp. In testimony taken on 12 September 2017, she stated:
Rima Dweikat. Photo by Salma a-Deb’i, B'Tselem
On 28 August 2017, at around midnight, I heard a lot of noise from the street and assumed that the soldiers had arrived. I realized that we wouldn’t be able to go to sleep. I can’t get to sleep when they come, because of the noise they make as they walk outside our home, their shooting, and the tear gas and stun grenades they throw. Sometimes the children come into my room and say, ‘Mom, the soldiers are on the steps in front of our home.’ They stay in bed with me because they’re scared. I’m worried that the soldiers will bang on our door and scare my children, whose room is right by the entrance to our home. When the soldiers arrive, the children and I usually stay awake and don’t manage to go to sleep until they leave the area. They usually stay until the early morning, and only then I fall asleep.
When I wake up in the morning and open the windows, the air outside is still saturated with tear gas. Sometimes the gas canisters fall in our garden, and although we close the windows the smell still gets in and bothers us.
As soon as the youths in the camp see the soldiers, they start throwing stones at them, and then clashes break out all over the place. There’s no way that the presence of soldiers will pass without resistance from the youths. The youths also burn tires, which bothers us a lot, and we’re afraid that someone will get hurt. We feel like hostages inside our own home and we don’t know how the night will end. This suffering has gone on for years already. The soldiers come to protect the settlers, and we have to close ourselves off in our home as if it was a prison. It’s totally unjust.
Samer ‘Amira, 43. married and mother of five, works at the Coordination Center in Balata Refugee Camp and works on the eastern edge of the camp. In testimony taken on 28 September 2017, she stated:
On 28 September 2017, at about 1:00 AM, a noise awoke me and I immediately knew that there were soldiers in the neighborhood. I got up straight away and closed the windows in all the rooms so that tear gas wouldn’t come in. I hear shots, and then all my children, aged eight through 17, woke up. My sons, ages 16 and 13, went to the windows and wanted to open them so that they could see what was happening outside, but I shouted at them to go back to bed.
Every time the soldiers enter the camp to protect the settlers, it all starts over again: clashes break out and I get scared and nervous. I’m a mother and I’m not worried for myself, but for my children. The older children want to go out and join the confrontations. My little girls Sireen and Lian, shake with fear and can’t get to sleep. They are afraid that the soldiers will come into our home or that someone from our family will get hurt. I find myself torn between the older children and the little ones, and I don’t know what to do. I stay awake all the time, following what’s happening and watching my children. I only calm down when everyone goes to sleep. Only then I can be sure that they won’t go out onto the street or stand by the windows, exposed to shooting by the soldiers.
At about 5:30 AM I saw on Facebook that the soldiers had left the camp. I woke up my little children so that they could go to school. The smell of gas was everywhere. The children went off to school and I went to work at the Coordination Center in the camp. I spent the whole day just looking at my watch waiting for my shift to end so that I could go home to sleep.
On Wednesday, 1 November 2017, soldiers entered the camp around midnight and clashes erupted with local youths. Firiyal Dweikat, a widow aged 53, lives on her own in a house in Nablus about 100 meters from Joseph’s Tomb. At about 4:00 AM Dweikat woke up to the sound of breaking glass tear gas filling her home.
In testimony taken on 1 November 2017, FiriyalDweikat stated:
Firiyal Dweikat. Photo by Salma a-Deb’i, B'Tselem
Just after midnight I was in the kitchen making myself a cup of chamomile tea. I heard a noise on the street, and when I looked out of the window I saw a few young men on the road, and Palestinian police officers driving past in a patrol vehicle. I realized that the settlers were going to be coming. The Palestinian police officers usually leave just before the military arrives. They come first and then the settlers come to pray at Joseph’s Tomb.
I thought to myself that I wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night, because of the noise of the settlers and the youths from the camp, the shooting, and the smell and burningof tear gas. At about 3:15 AM the settlers turned off the lights they bring with them to light up the streets. I calmed down and got ready to go to bed. I fell asleep, but only for a very short time. At 4:00 AM I woke up to the sound of breaking glass. I lifted my head up but I couldn’t see anything – the whole house was full of smoke. I choked and thought that my home was going up in flames. I just managed to put clothes on, opened my door, and began to shout for help. I called my nephew Ramzi, who lives nearby, and asked him and his wife to come to help me because they’re close by. Straight after that I collapsed and fell to the ground. I barely managed to get back up again. I tried to walk but fell over again. In the meantime Ramzi and his wife Ghada had arrived, and they helped me get up.
Ghada Dweikat, 41, married and mother of five, described what happened when she reached Firiyal’s home:
I didn’t know what to do. There was a smell of tear gas in the whole area. My eyes were watering constantly and I was coughing because of the tear gas. I quickly went out toward the main road. I saw a Palestinian police patrol vehicle that was arriving after the army and settlers had left. I asked them to help and they told me that they had already called for an ambulance. Maybe they heard Firiyal shouting and realized that she’d been injured by the gas, because there was a smell of gas everywhere.
A little later the ambulance and fire brigade arrived. In the meantime I tried to help Firiyal with onion and water, but she was in a bad condition. When the ambulance arrived, the crew took her in and connected her to oxygen. They wanted to take her to hospital but she refused. She was afraid that her home was going to burn down. But later we realized that the smoke was from a gas canister that came into the living room through the window. I saw another gas canister by the entrance to the house.
After Firiyal’s condition improved a bit, the ambulance left the scene. We stayed with her on the street, by the entrance to her home. No-one was able to go inside until 6:00 AM. In the morning we went in to inspect the house. Firiyal, who has suffered from high blood pressure for several years, took her medicines. Even after two hours there was still a smell of tear gas in the house.
On Friday, 18 August 2023, at around 11:30 P.M., cousins Mahmoud (18) and Yihya (16) a-Nawaj’ah arrived at the Meitar checkpoint. They were traveling in a car belonging to a Palestinian citizen of Israel. The two were on their way back from Israel to their home in the community of al-Jawaya, which lies southeast of the town of Yatta in the South Hebron Hills. When they reached the checkpoint, Israeli soldiers had the driver and two passengers get out of the car and conducted body searches on them. The soldiers took their bags, cellphones, and a bracelet and ring Yihya was wearing. They also took 8,000 NIS (~2,100 USD) in cash, money the cousins had earned working and were carrying in their pockets. Next, the soldiers tied the hands of the three individuals behind their backs using plastic bags, covered their eyes with plastic bags, and placed them in a military jeep. When they asked where they were being taken, the soldiers told them they were going to the Beit Yatir checkpoint (a checkpoint near the Mezadot Yehuda military base). Once they arrived at the military base, the three were taken out of the jeep and seated on the ground. Throughout the night and until the following afternoon, the three remained on the ground, handcuffed and blindfolded. Even in the intense heat of the day, the soldiers denied them water, food and access to the bathroom. When they requested to sit in a more shaded area, the soldiers refused. They were also forbidden from contacting their families or a lawyer to inform them of their whereabouts. Later, the three were taken to a room in the military base where the plastic bags around their hands were replaced with zip ties – this time, in front of them – and the bags covering their eyes were replaced with cloth blindfolds. They were interrogated in Arabic and asked for their names, ages, how they entered Israel and what they were doing there. From there, they were taken to another military facility, where fingerprints were taken from all three while they remained handcuffed and blindfolded. The soldiers then separated the driver from Mahmoud and Yihya and later released him. Mahmoud and Yihya were put in a car and sat there for about half an hour. Then, after a short drive to the Beit ‘Einun roundabout on Route 60, which sits north of Hebron, the soldiers took them out of the car and told them that they were being released. Only after the two pleaded did the soldiers remove the handcuffs and blindfolds. They returned their cellphones and Yihya’s jewelry that had been taken during the arrest. When the cousins asked the soldiers about the money that was taken from them, the soldiers claimed it had been transferred to the police and then left. Mahmoud called his father, who came to pick them up and took them home after more than twenty hours without food or drink. The next day, Mahmoud and Yihya went to the Kiryat Arba police station to demand their money back, but the police officers referred them to the Border Police camp in the settlement of Telem. Upon arriving there, they were told to come back the next day. On 31 August 2023, the two contacted HaMoked: Center for the Defence of the Individual to file a complaint on their behalf with the police demanding their money be returned. B’Tselem field researcher Basel al-‘Adrah collected testimonies from the two cousins. Mahmoud a-Nawaj’ah (18), a resident of a-Jawaya testified: Ever since I finished school, I’ve helped support my family. In June 2023, I started working in the town of ‘Araba, inside the Green Line. I didn’t have a work permit, so I crossed in illegally. After about a month, my 16-year-old cousin Yihya a-Nawaj’ah joined me. On 18 August 2023, we decided to go home and paid a Palestinian citizen of Israel to drive us. At around 11:30 P.M., we reached the Meitar checkpoint. The guard there stopped the car and asked to see IDs. The driver showed them his ID, and I told them I didn’t have mine with me. Yihya said he didn’t have one because he’s sixteen and hasn’t gotten one yet. The guard instructed us to get out of the car and asked the driver to park it in the lot next to the checkpoint. A few soldiers made us move away from the car, and another soldier searched the vehicle with an electronic device. Meanwhile, the soldiers told me to call my parents and ask them to send my ID number or a photo. I tried calling, but no one answered. Yihya, the driver and I got taken into a room at the checkpoint, where our photos were taken, and then our faces were identified. Afterward, we were taken to a small cell, got physically searched, and everything that was on us was taken: our cellphones, our bags with all our clothes, the 5,000 NIS (~1,300 USD) I made in all the months I’d worked, and 3,000 NIS (~780 USD) Yihya had made that was on him. Then our hands were tied behind our backs with plastic bags, and we were blindfolded with plastic bags too. All three of us were put in a black military jeep. I asked where they were taking us, and one of the soldiers said: “Mezadot Yehuda.” After about a ten-minute drive, at around 12:30 A.M., we were taken out of the vehicle and sat on the ground inside a military base. I could feel cars zooming by very close to us. It was really scary, and I was very worried about what would happen, especially since no one in our family knew we’d been detained. I asked the soldiers if I could try calling someone from my family again, but they refused. When we asked for water and food, they refused that too, didn’t give us anything, and ordered us to shut up and not talk to each other, either. We asked how much longer we’d stay on the floor like that, and one of the soldiers said we had a lot more time. We were there all night. The next morning, about an hour and a half after we heard the call to dawn prayer, it got very hot. We couldn’t take the heat of the sun anymore and asked the soldiers to move us somewhere with more shade, but they refused. Around noon, it had become completely unbearable, and we asked them again and again if we could move, but they said no each time. At some point, I managed to take the plastic bag off my eyes, but within seconds, soldiers came over to put it back on and yelled at me that I wasn’t allowed to take it off. We sat on the ground handcuffed and blindfolded for 15 hours straight. Then, the soldiers brought us into a room in the base. They took the plastic off our eyes and covered them again with cloth. They also tied our hands tightly with zip ties – this time in front. They sat us down on chairs. Suddenly, someone I hadn’t seen began talking to us. He said his name was Khaled, and he asked each of us questions in mediocre Arabic. He asked for my name, my age, where I worked and how I entered Israel. He asked Yihya and the driver the same questions. After that, the soldiers put us back in the jeep, drove for about forty minutes, took us out again, and brought us into a room again, where they took our fingerprints while we were still handcuffed and blindfolded. After that, they put me and Yihya in a civilian car. I don’t know where the soldiers took the driver. We waited in the car for about half an hour before it started moving. A while later, we got dropped off and told we could go. They hadn’t taken off our blindfolds or untied our hands. They only did it after we begged them, and then we realized we were at the Beit ‘Einun roundabout. One of the soldiers gave us back our cellphones. We asked about our money, and the soldier said it was with the police, and then the soldiers left. I managed to take a photo of their license plate. That was at about 5:30 or 6:00 P.M. I called my father, and he came to pick us up. We were exhausted. Later, I called the driver, and he told me he had been released and that his friends came to pick him up, but that the soldiers confiscated his car. The next day, Yihya and I went to the police station in Kiryat Arba to get our money back, but they said our case was being dealt with in the Telem base. We went there, and they told us to come back the next day. The following morning, the Kiryat Arba police called me, and the interpreter asked me to tell him what happened, and how much money it was. I told him and said I was planning on going to Telem the next day to pick up my money. He told me they’d be in touch, but that never happened. Yihya a-Nawaj’ah (16), from Yatta, said: I was looking for work over the summer in order to have some pocket money for my last year of high school. My cousin, Mahmoud a-Nawaj’ah, got me a job where he works near ‘Araba in Israel, and I started working there on 15 July 2023. The first day of school was 20 August 2023, and I wanted some time to prepare, so we both left work on 18 August 2023. We left at around 9:30 P.M. with a Palestinian citizen of Israel who drove us for a fee, and at around 11:30 P.M., when we arrived at the Meitar checkpoint, the guard there detained us when he saw Mahmoud and I didn’t have IDs on us. The guy who was driving us showed the guard his ID, and the guard told Mahmoud and me to get out and the driver to park in the lot next to the checkpoint. The two of us got out of the car, and two soldiers led us through the lot. Then three more soldiers came, and one of them searched the car with an electronic device. The soldiers demanded to see IDs again, but we said we didn’t have them. They took the three of us to a room at the checkpoint, took our pictures in there, and then did a body search inside a small booth. They took our cellphones, and from me, they also took a bracelet and ring I was wearing, and the 3,000 NIS (~780 USD) I had made at work. They took Mahmoud’s 5,000 NIS (~1,300 USD), too. Then, the soldiers tied our hands behind our backs and blindfolded us with plastic bags. After that, the soldiers put us in a jeep and after a 10-minute ride, we were taken out and sat on the ground inside a military base. It was scary because I couldn’t see anything, and I didn’t know what the soldiers were planning. I felt cars zooming right next to me. I asked the soldiers to go to the bathroom a few times, but they didn’t let me. They also didn’t give us water or food, and they forbade us from talking to each other. Mahmoud and I asked to call our family or a lawyer, but one of the soldiers kept saying the same word every time: “forbidden.” About an hour and a half after we heard the call to dawn prayer, when the sun was already up, we asked them to move us to the shade, but they refused. Around noon, we couldn’t stand the scorching heat anymore – we had been there for 15 hours straight – but they continued to refuse our request to move to a shadier spot. At some point, they moved all three of us to a room in the base and replaced the plastic blindfold with a cloth one and the plastic bags tying our hands with zip ties; they put them in front this time. One of the soldiers tied my hands really tight, and it hurt. Then, someone who said his name was Khaled asked the three of us some questions in mediocre Arabic. He asked how old we were, where we worked, and how we entered Israel. After that, they took the three of us out of the room and put us back in the jeep. After a forty-minute ride, we were brought into another room where they took our fingerprints – even though our hands were still tied and we still had blindfolds on. They then put just Mahmoud and me in a car, and we waited for about half an hour inside it. After a short ride, the soldiers dropped us off and told us we could go, but they didn’t take off the handcuffs and blindfolds. We asked them to take them off, but one of them said they weren’t allowed. We didn’t understand why he wanted to leave us like that in the middle of the road, so we persisted until, finally, one of them untied our hands and took off our blindfolds. I felt relieved. They also gave us back our phones, and they gave me my bracelet and ring. They didn’t return the money they took from us, and when we asked for it, the soldier told us that the police had it. After that, they drove off, and Mahmoud called his father, who came to pick us up. We were so hungry and tired, and we just wanted to sleep.
On Sunday, 23 October 2022, at around 10:00 P.M., brothers Rajeh (24) and Bassem (21) a-Razem set out from their home in the Jaber neighborhood in the Hebron city center to deliver goods to the family store, which is located about 200 meters away. As they approached the Jaber checkpoint, the brothers saw several soldiers chasing youths from the neighborhood. Bassem got scared and ran back towards the house, while Rajeh kept walking towards the store. One of the soldiers suddenly approached Rajeh, pushed him, knocked him down and pressed his knee into his neck, choking him. More soldiers arrived. They handcuffed and blindfolded Rajeh and made him sit by the checkpoint. Bassem and Rajeh’s parents, who heard the commotion, rushed to the scene to rescue Rajeh, but the soldiers pushed them, swore at them and did not allow them to come near. The soldiers also attacked neighbors who came to the family’s aid, including: Ahmad Jaber (19), who was also handcuffed; his father, Minwer Jaber (48), who told the soldiers he was a member of the Palestinian security apparatus; and Minwer’s brother, Munzer Jaber (56), and his son Mu’taz (36). The soldiers also detained ‘Aref Jaber (48), who came to the spot to document the event. About half an hour later, an officer arrived at the checkpoint and released everyone except Rajeh, whom the soldiers held at the checkpoint, handcuffed and blindfolded, until 12:30 A.M. The Israeli media reported that two soldiers and an officer were suspended following the incident, which the IDF Chief of Staff described as a “a flagrant departure from IDF values.” Yet this case is no exception. It is part of the violent routine that is all too familiar to Palestinians in downtown Hebron – and throughout the West Bank. The only exception here was media exposure. Even then, how did the military choose to penalize soldiers who were documented verbally and physically assaulting Palestinians and falsely arresting one? By suspending them from operations. This is no mistake: the soldiers did not misinterpret orders and the Chief of Staff did not misunderstand the severity of the incident. It is Israel’s policy. B’Tselem field researcher Manal al-Ja’bari took testimonies on 25 October 2022 from some of the residents attacked: Rajeh a-Razem (24) from the a-Salaimeh neighborhood said: On 23 October 2022, at around 10:00 P.M., my father asked my brother Bassem and me to take goods to the store. Because we’re not allowed through the Jaber checkpoint by car, we have to transport goods with a small cart. We finished transporting the first batch and were taking the rest when we saw about four soldiers near the checkpoint yelling at some young guys on the street and chasing them. Bassem ran towards home, and I continued with the goods towards the checkpoint. Suddenly, one of the soldiers attacked me, knocked me down and sat on top of me, pressing his knee into my neck. He was choking me. Another soldier pointed his rifle at me. The soldiers asked me in Arabic about Bassem, who he was and why he ran away. I was afraid they’d hurt my brother, so I told them I didn’t know him, and then the soldier who was pointing his rifle at me shouted something in Hebrew that I didn’t understand. I told him I didn’t understand and he hit me, slapped me and shouted at me that I was a terrorist. The other soldier, who was still pressing his knee into my neck and choking me, also slapped me. Then, he pulled me to my feet and led me towards the checkpoint, where he tied my hands in front of me with zip ties, blindfolded me and made me sit in front of the checkpoint. Meanwhile, my parents arrived. I heard them talking to the soldiers. The soldiers were shouting at them and swearing at my mother. It sounded as if they were attacking my father, too. At some point they lifted me to my feet, dragged me a few steps and then made sit back down on the ground. I heard other people from the neighborhood shouting and it sounded like there was a struggle going on. I think the soldiers hit one of the residents, and I heard him tell them in English he was a police officer. I couldn’t see what was happening because I was blindfolded. They held me like that until about 12:30 A.M., and then they let me go and I went home. My family told me the soldiers had attacked Minwer Jaber and his family when they tried to help me. Ibtesam Jaber, a 37-year-old mother of six from the Jaber neighborhood, said: At around 10:30 P.M., my husband Minwer and I were at home. Suddenly, I heard shouting out on the street. Minwer went outside to see what was going on and our son Ahmad, who was woken by the shouting, followed him outside. I looked out the window and saw Rajeh a-Razem handcuffed and blindfolded. The soldiers had him sitting on the ground near the Jaber checkpoint. I saw his parents trying to get them to let him go, but the soldiers were pushing them and swearing at them. My husband came back inside to call the Palestinian DCO and get help for the young man. Meanwhile, I heard my son Ahmad shouting. Minwer rushed back out, barefoot. I saw three soldiers leading Ahmad to the checkpoint, hitting him as they went. They pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down over his face, tied his hands behind his back with zip ties and sat him down at the checkpoint, too. Afterwards, they pulled him and Rajeh to their feet and started dragging them, but Minwer blocked their path and asked why they were taking Ahmad, who had been asleep at home and had done nothing. One of the soldiers got angry and aggressive and said in Arabic that Ahmad was a Palestinian terrorist. The soldiers pushed my husband and ordered him to go home, but he refused to back off until they released both young men. One of the soldiers assaulted my husband and beat him. I yelled at them from the porch to let my husband and son go. One of the soldiers pointed his weapon at me, started swearing at me in Arabic and ordered me to go inside, while another soldier kept beating my husband. He pushed Minwer up against a wall, and his body and head got hit. Minwer shouted at the soldiers in English that he was a member of the security apparatus, but it didn’t help. In the meantime, my brother-in-law Munzer and his son Mu’taz came to help, but the soldiers attacked them too, handcuffed them and made them sit on the road. Ahmad Jaber (18) from the Jaber neighborhood said: I started heading downstairs to see what was going on, and before I even got to the street, three soldiers attacked me. One grabbed me by the shoulder, pulled the hood of my sweatshirt down over my face and started dragging me to the Jaber checkpoint, swearing at me and kicking me. He told me I was a Palestinian terrorist. Then he pushed me against the wall of a building. He started talking to me in Hebrew, and I didn’t understand what he wanted. Then he pulled my leg, knocked me down to the ground, trod on my legs and slammed my face into the wall. I heard my father’s voice and tried to raise my head, but the soldiers wouldn’t let me speak. They were very aggressive. The soldier punched and hit me several times on the head and kicked me. Then he tied my hands behind my back with zip ties and made me sit next to the checkpoint. A few minutes later, the soldiers pulled me and Rajeh up and led us a few steps on foot until my father blocked their way and asked why they were detaining us. The soldiers attacked my father, pushed him and ordered him to go home. He refused to back away, and then the soldiers started beating him. My mother shouted at the soldiers from the porch. One of the soldiers pointed his weapon at her and swore at her. Another soldier pushed my father against the wall, and he hit his head against it. My father shouted at the soldiers in English that he was a member of the security apparatus, but they didn’t stop. Meanwhile, my uncle Munzer and his son Mu’taz came to help, and the soldiers attacked them too. They handcuffed them and made them sit down next to the same building by the roadside. After about half an hour, an army officer arrived. He talked to us and let all of us go except Rajeh. A Palestinian ambulance arrived, and the crew gave my father first aid. He had bruises all over his body. Rajeh was only let go around 12:30 A.M. That evening, soldiers went up to our roof. They stayed there all night, making noise and disturbing our sleep.
On Tuesday, 30 August 2022, at around 5:00 P.M., three young settlers drove a car through the village of Kisan in Bethlehem District. They sped inside the village and ran over a goat belonging to a local resident. They then tried to escape, but their car was blocked by a vehicle carrying cargo and they had to slow down. At that point, children and youths from the village threw stones at them and smashed the car windows. The settlers turned around and left the village. They returned some 15 minutes later, with about 15 other settlers and about 10 soldiers. The settlers threw stones at village homes in front of the soldiers, who refused to intervene when locals approached them. Some youths from the village threw stones at the settlers in an attempt to fend them off. One of the settlers drew a handgun and fired a single bullet towards the village residents. The soldiers fired a barrage of tear gas canisters at the homes, causing some residents to choke. They received first aid from Palestinian paramedics who arrived at the scene. At around 7:00 P.M., the settlers and most of the soldiers left the village. It is not uncommon for settlers to enter Kisan. Local residents, especially the shepherds, are by now used to harassment almost every day. While violent assaults, as occurred in this incident, are rarer, they do occur in the village due to Israel’s overall policy in the West Bank. This policy also explains why soldiers were present during the incident, why they refused to intervene and protect the Palestinian residents, and why they took action only after Palestinians began throwing stones too. On 1 September 2022, B’Tselem field researcher Manal al-Ja’bari collected testimonies from residents of Kisan who were hurt in the incident. Saleh al-’Abayat (59), a father of eight, said: I have 250 heads of sheep, which provide my family’s livelihood. On 30 August 2022, at around 5:00 P.M., I was sitting by my house. A car with three young settlers inside drove along the nearby road at a crazy speed. They ran over a goat that belongs to our neighbor, ‘Adnan al-’Abayat, near his house. The settlers tried to get away, but a vehicle carrying hay was driving in front of them, so they had to slow down. Some kids and young guys from the village threw stones at them and shattered the windows. The settlers turned around and drove off. About 15 minutes later, they came back with more than 15 settlers and two military jeeps, which let out about 10 soldiers. The settlers threw stones at village homes in front of the soldiers. Some residents asked the soldiers to make the settlers to back away, but the soldiers ignored them, so some kids and young guys started throwing stones too, to try and make the settlers leave. One of the settlers drew a handgun and fired one shot in their direction, and the soldiers started firing dozens of tear gas canisters at village homes. I heard women and children screaming all over the village. Before I managed to run away and take cover, some tear gas canisters landed near me. I think there were four. The gas surrounded me from every direction, and I fell down. I passed out, and when I came to, maybe a few minutes later, I saw I was far from my house and next to a Palestinian ambulance whose crew was giving me first aid. They put an oxygen mask on my face. The soldiers were still firing tear gas canisters. At around 7:00 P.M., a Civil Administration car arrived. An officer, who I think is the area commander, got out. He shouted at the residents who were throwing stones at the settlers, and then the soldiers and the settlers left. Red Crescent crews treated people who were choking on the tear gas. I still have trouble breathing, and my eyes are stinging. Thank God, my grandchildren weren’t hurt. My daughter-in-law took them to the top floor and shut the windows and doors, so they weren’t hurt. ‘Adnan al-’Abayat (33), a father of three, said: On Tuesday, 30 August 2022, at around 5:00 P.M., I was sitting in the yard by the house with my family. I saw a car with an Israeli license plate speeding along a road in our village, with three young settlers inside. Three children who were playing on the road ran away. The car kept going and ran over a goat of ours that was in the pasture by our house, near the road. After that the settlers tried to escape, but a vehicle carrying hay was driving ahead of them so they had to slow down. Some young guys and kids from the village attacked the car with stones and smashed its windows. At some point, the settlers managed to get away. About 15 minutes later, they came back with more settlers and two military jeeps. They threw stones at residents’ homes, and the soldiers did nothing to try and stop them. Young guys from the village threw stones back at them, and then one of the settlers drew his gun and fired one bullet in their direction. At that point, the soldiers started raining tear gas canisters down on the homes. The canisters landed in the yards of homes, making many residents choke, including elderly people, children and sick people. My wife Sabah (32) and our little kids choked on it, too. I tried to reassure them, to take them inside and give them first aid, but before I could do it, one of the canisters hit my 7-year-old son Ayham on the left side of his face. While I was trying to help him, I saw my neighbor, Saleh al-’Abayat (59), choke and fall over. I left Ayham with my wife and ran over to him, and a tear gas canister hit me in the left leg. In the meantime, two Palestinian ambulances came and gave us all first aid. They bandaged my leg. At around 7:00 P.M., an officer came in a Civil Administration car, and it was only then that the soldiers stopped firing tear gas. The settlers left the area. The officer yelled at us, accusing us of attacking the settlers and wrecking their car, and then he left the area with the rest of the soldiers, except six who stayed. Samaher al-’Abayat (41), a mother of eight, said: At around 5:30 P.M., I was sitting with my family in the yard when I heard screaming in the village. We saw settlers attacking the village. Before I managed to get the children inside, and before my husband managed to get the flock into the pen, tear gas canisters started landing in the yard. My young kids, ‘Ali (4), Ahmad (6), Azhar (7) and Jawaher (9), started screaming and crying. One of the canisters hit a sheep directly in the leg. The kids felt like they were choking, and their eyes stung. They screamed and writhed in pain. Ahmad has liver disease, and the first thing on my mind was getting him away from the yard, where the canisters were falling and sending gas clouds up everywhere. My husband choked too, while he was trying to gather all the flock to get them inside the pen. I tried to calm the children down after I got them inside. I tried using onion to ease the effect of the gas. Then a team of Palestinian paramedics came to the village. They gave us first aid – my husband, my young boys and me. The tear gas firing went on until about 7:00 P.M. My kids didn’t sleep that night because of the pain and stinging in their eyes, especially Ahmad, who also had a stomach ache. My eyes also still hurt and sting, and I’m having trouble seeing.
