Category: Reports - Page 334 - International Solidarity Movement

We Remember: Tom Hurndall

13 January 2012 | International Solidarity Movement

Tom was 21 years old when he was shot. A photography student, he had left the UK to volunteer as a ‘human shield’ in Iraq. Here he heard about the ISM, one of whose volunteers, Rachel Corrie, had just been killed by a bulldozer whilst protesting house demolitions in Rafah. He headed there himself, arriving on the 6th April.

On the day of his shooting, Tom was with other ISM activists walking through Rafah when Israeli sniper fire started. Almost everyone ran for safety, but Tom noticed that three children, aged between four and seven, had remained motionless, paralysed with fear. Tom went back for them. He got the little boy to safety, and then went back for the two girls. He was wearing a fluorescent vest, and was clearly unarmed. An Israeli sniper shot him in the head.

There was a two hour delay at the border of the Gaza Strip before an ambulance was able to take him to a hospital in Be’er Sheva. In a coma, he was transferred to a hospital in the UK, where he died the following year.

The soldier who shot him, Taysir Hayb, was convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to eleven and a half years in prison. A British inquest into the killing found that the killing was intentional – in other words, murder.

Tom’s shooting followed the murder of Rachel Corrie, run over by a bulldozer on the 16th March, and the near fatal shooting of Brian Avery, shot in the face in Jenin on April 5th. Later that month, another Brit, filmmaker James Miller, was also killed by a sniper in Rafah. The Israeli military have refused to accept any responsibility for what they did to Rachel, Brian or James.

Hurndall was trying to save Palestinian homes and infrastructure but frequently came under Israeli fire and seemed to have lost his fear of death. “While approaching the area, they (the Israelis) continually fired one- to two-second bursts from what I could see was a Bradley fighting vehicle… It was strange that as we approached and the guns were firing, it sent shivers down my spine, but nothing more than that. We walked down the middle of the street, wearing bright orange, and one of us shouted through a loudspeaker, ‘We are International volunteers. Don’t shoot!’ That was followed by another volley of fire, though I can’t be sure where from…” – Robert Fisk, The Independent, 2009

Tom Hurndall was a young man with a dream…he paid for it with his life. –The Telegraph, 2004

Tom, blind to nationalities and borders, exuded humanity. He wanted, he wrote in his journal, “to make a difference”. He did. He also had an outrageous sense of humour and will be missed, most of all, because he made those of us who were his friends smile. He is survived by his parents, sister Sophie, and his brothers Billy and Freddy. – Carl Arindell, The Guardian, 2004.

Today International Solidarity Movement pays tribute to Tom Hurndall for his bravery and sacrifices. He is never far from our thoughts, and he continues to inspire our Palestinian, Israeli, and International volunteers throughout our campaigns in the Occupied Territories. Tom would want us to remember him. But we also know he’d want us to remember that thousands of innocent Palestinians have died under similar circumstances. These people’s deaths have not been investigated, and have often been lied about, claiming the victims to be combatants or explained away with empty phrases like “caught in the crossfire” or “tragic accident.”

While the ISM acknowledges that the Israeli military court found Wahid Taysir guilty of manslaughter, an injustice was committed by his early release from prison in September 2010 due to “good behavior.”

The international community will continue to question the policy and decision makers responsible for Tom’s murder and the murder of thousands of other innocent people.

13 January 2009: Hibba al-Najjar

13 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“The first two years I could manage but this year I have been suffering a lot from the loss of my mother. When I see girls from my school with their mother or talking about their mother, I miss my mother even more. I need to have her with me.”

Hibba al-Najjar (17) sitting opposite her home in Khuza'a village (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

In the early morning of 13 January 2009, following two days of home demolitions, the Israeli army started to shell the village of Khuza’a and its surroundings, using high explosive and white phosphorous artillery shells. Israeli bulldozers, tanks and snipers were located on the edge of the village. At around 7:00 soldiers ordered the residents of eastern Khuza’a, to leave the area and move towards the centre of the village. Holding a white flag, Rawhiya al-Najjar (47) led a group of approximately 20 women in an attempt to leave as ordered. Shortly after the group turned the first corner a soldier shot and killed Rawhiya. Another woman in the group, Yasmin al-Najjar (23), was injured by two bullets when she tried to take Rawhiya off the road. Medical staff who tried to evacuate Rawhiya’s body were shot at and had to take refuge in a nearby house, and were only able to take the body from the street after more than 10 hours.

“I can still hear the bullet hit my mother in the head. I was standing right beside her when the soldier stepped into the doorway of the house ahead and shot her. I could see him,” says Rawhiya’s 17 year old daughter Hibba as she depicts the situation with her arms. “I keep wondering why they killed my mother while she was carrying a white cloth in the street, but why I was not killed when I was on the roof of our house earlier that morning.” Hibba still cannot make sense of what happened that day.

Hibba is an the only child. She lives with her father, Naser, his second wife, Nuha, and their three children. Her father married Nuha when it became clear that Rawhiya was not able to have any more children and convinced him to marry a second wife. Naser became unemployed after the full closure on the Gaza Strip was imposed. Now the family is dependent on aid and shared agriculture with relatives on lands next to the village, close to the border with Israel.

From the day of the incident Hibba and her family stayed away from the house for two weeks, saying it was too dangerous to move in that part of Khuza’a. For the two months after that they only went to their house during the daytime and spent the night at the house of relatives in a safer area.

Since the death of her mother Hibba suffers from nightmares, insomnia, stress, and bedwetting. “Before, I would sleep immediately. Now I can’t get to sleep at night,” says Hibba. Sometimes her father finds her sleepwalking and talking about her mother. Lately she has also begun to experience blurry vision and dizziness. When Hibba started to lose her hair a few months ago, Naser took his daughter to a hospital. The doctor told Hibba and her father that she needs to spend some time outside of the Gaza Strip. Naser is thinking of taking her to Egypt for a little while next summer. However, the closure and high costs make this option far from easy. Hibba says she would like to go out of Gaza but adds that “it will not make me forget anything.”

Hibba’s schoolwork has also been affected by the traumatic experience and death of her mother. “My mother used to help me with my homework and I used to be very good at school. Now my grades are lower and I am not able to focus in class. When I open a book I feel tired and remember my mother. Even when I study well for an exam, I often forget everything during the exam,” she says. Hibba enjoys subjects like Islamic religion and geography but feels sad knowing her scores have dropped a lot. This is the final year of high school for Hibba. However, she doesn’t think about what comes after the final exams next summer; “I don’t want to think long-term.”

Hibba does not like the month of January as it reminds here of the time of the offensive. However, she says 13 January is like any other day for her, “there is no difference with other days because I remember my mother every day regardless.” When she feels most sad she usually takes a chair and sits outside the house for a while. Sometimes talking to relatives and her best friend, who is also her neighbour, brings some relief. Hibba is glad to have such a good friend who tries to support her; “I can tell her everything. Without my friend I would have crumbled under the pressure of my loss.”

Hibba does not think about the future but rather relives what happened to her and her mother on 13 January 2009. “Since the morning I have been thinking a lot of the incident and how we left my mother in the street,” she says, having to pause after every few words. Many things in daily life remind her of her old life with and her future without her mother. “Whenever I see an old woman in the street I wonder if I will still have a clear memory of my mother when I am at that age.”

Discussing PCHR’s submission of complaints to the Israeli authorities regarding the killing of her mother, Hibba says she does not care: “Nothing can compensate for the loss of my mother but I wish that the soldier who shot my mother will be brought to justice.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the al-Najjar family on 23 June 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

12 January 2009 – The Ayad family
11 January 2009: The Hamouda family
10 January 2009: Wafa al-Radea
9 January 2009 – The Abu Oda family
8 January 2009: The Al-Rahel family
7 January 2009 – The Mattar family
6 January 2009: Al-Dayah family
5 January 2009: Amal al-Samouni
4 January 2009: The Abdel Dayem family
3 January 2009: Motee’ and Isma’il as-Selawy
2 January 2009: Eyad al-Astal
1 January 2009: The Nasla family
31 December 2008: The Abu Areeda family
30 December 2008: The Hamdan family
29 December 2008: Balousha family
28 December 2008: The Abu Taima family
27 December 2008: The Al Ashi family

12 January 2009 – The Ayad family

12 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“If there is another war I won’t be moving, even if we die there, I don’t want to go through that again”

Mustafa, Abdel Kareem and Rezeq Ayad (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

On 12 January 2009, the Ayad family home in the Zaytoon area of Gaza City was bulldozed by Israeli forces. Rezeq Ayad, 60, his wife Yusra, 58, and their four sons Mustafa, 16, Muhammed, 20, Abdel Kareem 26, and Khalil, 29, and Khalil’s two daughters were left homeless as a result of the attack. The family had left the area a few days prior to the destruction of their home, as a result of the intense Israeli bombardment of the area.

Speaking to Rezeq Ayad and his son, Abdel Kareem, the relief they feel having put their displacement behind them is clear. Now back in the family home – which they started rebuilding in May 2010 and moved into in October 2010 – the two are glad and thankful that the family are now safe and relatively secure once again. “I remember that time and I just thank God we are all still alive,” says Rezeq.

“We had left the house with nothing but the clothes we were wearing and a few blankets and mattresses,” explains Abdel Kareem, “we lost everything with the house when it was bulldozed.” In the aftermath of the attack the whole family were forced to find alternative shelter. “I and my wife moved to relatives in Asqoula in Gaza City,” says Rezeq, “my son Abdel Kareem was forced to move to the al Samouni neighbourhood and my son Khalil had no choice but to spend two years in a tent camp with his wife and young daughters.”

Rezeq’s son, Muhammed Ayad, who was 17 at the time, built a small structure among the ruins of the family home and stayed there so he could watch over the house and his donkeys, which he kept in the area.

Abdel Kareem and his wife Shaheera, 22, spent a little over a year in a makeshift hut that he built from corrugated iron and plastic. “My wife is from the al Samouni family; after the massacre of the al Samouni’s in that area during the war she didn’t want to move there out of fear of another attack taking place. But we had nowhere else to go.” Abdel Kareem describes the conditions the couple endured over that year as “intolerable.” “During the summer it was unbearably hot, during the winter, unbearably cold.”

Shaheera was pregnant with the young couple’s first child at the time the couple were homeless. “There was no running water or electricity in the hut. Shaheera would have to wait for me to come home from work to bring her water. Her pregnancy was very difficult. I was working selling vegetables and transporting goods to save money to build my house,” says Abdul Kareem, “the day we moved in my wife gave birth to my little girl Ru’al.” Reflecting on the incident Abdul stresses that he would be unwilling to put himself and his family through the same experience once more. “If there is another war I won’t be moving, even if we die there, I don’t want to go through that again.”

Khalil Ayad, his wife Nabila and their daughters Islam, 5, and Gadeer, 4, were also forced into haphazard makeshift accommodation after the attack. “Khalil went to a tent camp in the Zaytoon area of Gaza. There were a lot of families displaced during the war that moved there temporarily. But Khalil’s was the last family to leave. They spent two years there in total” says Rezeq. “They would collect firewood to cook and boil water and they shared a common well with the rest of the camp residents for water.” During this experience, Nabila gave birth to, Rezeq, now 1. Like Shaheera, Nabila’s pregnancy occurred under very difficult circumstances.

Talking of the future, Abdel Kareem’s hopes are simple. “I hope to be strong enough to continue my life and to be a good man” he says. As regards the families complaint with the Israeli government Rezeq and Abdel Kareem are dismissive of any potential for redress; “We don’t expect anything from the case. The house was a small home in a quiet residential neighbourhood. It was clearly not a military target. The soldiers knew what they were doing; they just wanted to destroy it. They will not investigate.”

Discussing how he was able to rebuild the family home following its destruction Rezeq explains that he had savings from his time as a school teacher in a local UNRWA school. Talking about what he had planned to do with the money he had saved over a lifetime, prior to spending it all on repairing the damage caused by the Israeli military, Rezeq says that he had hoped to help his sons with their marriage and their education. “I spent everything I had saved,” says Rezeq with a smile and a shrug of his shoulders, “so now I start again.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the Ayad family on 2 August 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

11 January 2009: The Hamouda family
10 January 2009: Wafa al-Radea
9 January 2009 – The Abu Oda family
8 January 2009: The Al-Rahel family
7 January 2009 – The Mattar family
6 January 2009: Al-Dayah family
5 January 2009: Amal al-Samouni
4 January 2009: The Abdel Dayem family
3 January 2009: Motee’ and Isma’il as-Selawy
2 January 2009: Eyad al-Astal
1 January 2009: The Nasla family
31 December 2008: The Abu Areeda family
30 December 2008: The Hamdan family
29 December 2008: Balousha family
28 December 2008: The Abu Taima family
27 December 2008: The Al Ashi family

11 January 2009: The Hamouda family

11 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“I cannot even pick up another child in my arms, I had a new grandchild, he is six months old, but I have yet to take him in my arms, I feel that place belongs to Fares”

Talat and Intissar Hamouda (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

In the early morning of 11 January 2009, the home of Intissar Hamouda, 41, in Tal Al-Hawa. Gaza City, came under attack from Israeli forces. Israeli tank fire resulted in the death of her son, Fares Hamouda, who was two years old at the time of the attack, and her step son Muhammed who she cared for with her husband Talat, 54, Muhammed’s father. Fares died immediately in Intissar’s arms, while Muhammed bled to death as medical crews were unable to reach them.

“Muhammed and Fares had a lot in common. After I had Fares I could not breastfeed so we had to give him manufactured milk. Muhammed lost his mother at ten months and so was also fed manufactured baby milk. As a result, both had similar illnesses with similar symptoms,” says Intissar. Throughout their brief time together the brothers remained close. “Fares would refuse to go to sleep until Muhammed came home from school. On the day of the attack Fares was sick, but he refused to take medicine from me, he wanted it from Muhammed,” says Intissar.

Following the attack Intissar was severely debilitated. “I could not walk on my legs even six months after the incident due to injuries in my legs and pelvis; I needed help from my step daughters and sisters to move around the house.” Intissar has since undergone three surgeries to remove shrapnel from her abdomen as well as reconstructive plastic surgery.

Fares was not only close to his half brother Muhammed, but also to Intissar’s step daughter Kariman and step grandchild Rania, who were 13 and 2 respectively at the time of the incident. Both have been traumatised as a result. “Kariman became extremely aggressive in school and at the advice of teachers Talat decided to withdraw her from it,” says Imtissar. “Three months following the incident I came back to the house with Rania to get her toys and other things, but she begged me not to enter the house and wouldn’t take anything from it.” Similarly, Intissar said that “ten days ago we were in the Old City shopping and Rania saw a funeral of someone killed in a recent Israeli attack, it reminded Rania of Fares and Muhammed and she started to cry, when I explained they had gone to heaven, she replied, “just like Muhammed and Fares”.”

Intissar and Talat have both been emotionally affected by the loss of their sons. “I cannot even pick up another child in my arms, I had a new grandchild, he is six months old, but I have yet to take him in my arms, I feel that place belongs to Fares,” says Talat. The anniversary is particularly hard on Intissar, who still suffers chronic pain from nerve damage as a result of the attack. “As the day approaches they show interviews taken of me after the incident or start to talk about the attack,” says Intissar, “I can’t even watch stories of other women with similar experiences, so I don’t turn on the television.”

As regards the future the couple feel they have nothing left to be taken from them. “We lost the nearest things to us, we have nothing else left to lose,” says Intissar. “I am no longer even afraid of the bombings.” However Intissar clings to some hope that she can have another child following the death of Fares, who she tried to conceive for 21 years. “I have tried through artificial insemination already, but it didn’t work. I’m hoping to try again.” Similarly Talat has hopes that there will be political reconciliation among the Palestinian political factions. Regarding the prospects of their complaint in Israeli courts, Intissar is unimpressed; “the Israeli’s committed war crimes against us, they destroy the houses over the heads of civilians, I expect no justice from them.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the Hamouda Family on 21 July 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

10 January 2009: Wafa al-Radea
9 January 2009 – The Abu Oda family
8 January 2009: The Al-Rahel family
7 January 2009 – The Mattar family
6 January 2009: Al-Dayah family
5 January 2009: Amal al-Samouni
4 January 2009: The Abdel Dayem family
3 January 2009: Motee’ and Isma’il as-Selawy
2 January 2009: Eyad al-Astal
1 January 2009: The Nasla family
31 December 2008: The Abu Areeda family
30 December 2008: The Hamdan family
29 December 2008: Balousha family
28 December 2008: The Abu Taima family
27 December 2008: The Al Ashi family

Resistance continues, demonstration in the No Go Zone

by Nathan Stuckey

11 January 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza

The No Go Zone – Click here for more images

Every Tuesday we gather in front of the Beit Hanoun Agricultural College, members of the Beit Hanoun Local Initiative, the International Solidarity Movement and other activists from all over Gaza. We gather, and we march into the no go zone. Sometimes we are shot at, sometimes there is no response. We accept both of these. We cannot control when the Israeli’s will shoot at us, at unarmed civilian demonstrators on their own land. We are not discouraged by the appearance that nothing changes, you never know when change will happen, but you can be sure that if you do nothing, nothing will change. So every Tuesday, we march into the no go zone, the rest of the week, everyone struggles against the occupation in their own way. Teachers teach, farmers farm, fisherman fish, but under occupation all of these things can become revolutionary things, life itself can become a revolutionary act.

The megaphone announces the start of the demonstration; Bella Ciao is our marching song. We set off down the road into the no go zone. There about thirty of us, men, women and children, somehow, it feels like more this week. We do not take the usual path into the no go zone, once inside the no zone we turn to the left. We walk toward the road that leads to Erez, one of the few gates into and out of the prison that is Gaza, few Gazans are permitted to use it, it is mostly for NGO workers. We stop about twenty meters from it; we plant a flag in the ground. This flag joins the others we have planted in the no go zone, unlike wheat which requires months to go grow and is inevitably destroyed by the periodic assaults of Israeli bulldozers in the no go zone flags can be planted fully grown. Eventually Israeli bulldozers will come and grind them beneath their wheels and we will have to plant new flags to replace them, but until then you can see our flags wave over the no zone. The wall that surrounds Gaza is studded with Israeli flags, in case anyone should forget who it is that imprisons Gaza.

We planted our flag, then, Sabur Zaaneen from the Local Initiative spoke, he denounced “encounters with the leaders of the occupation and negotiations with the occupation, instead we must work toward the prosecution of the leaders of the occupation in international forums.” He also said that “resistance to the occupation must continue, it will continue until the end of the occupation, the resistance must unite to confront the occupation.” As we walked back to Beit Hanoun it was impossible not to admire our flags floating in the wind, three of them lining the no go zone, and the wheat that we had planted last month, growing. Israel can destroy, but things will always grow again. Oppression inevitably breeds resistance, a resistance that will continue to grow until the oppression is removed.