Tag: Prisoner

Torture as a daily routine: a witness from Israeli prisons

His face is hollowed out, white skin pulled over prominent cheekbones. The eyes, tired but wide open, never stop. Abed just got out of Al-Naqab prison in southern Israel five days ago. He still can’t believe it.

“I lost 60 kilos in less than a year.” He shows a giant picture of himself hanging in the lobby: a fleshy, muscular man, smiling with a small child in his arms. “That’s my daughter, that’s me. It’s been a year.” The man in front of me looks like the specter of the hanging image. Even the little girl zomping behind us doesn’t seem to recognize him: when her father calls her name, she throws herself into her cousin’s arms, almost frightened. “My daughter when she first saw me was hiding, calling me uncle. It was so sad.”

Abed’s message to the world

Abed is 28 years old and was a baker by trade. They arrested him last December in a night raid where the Israeli military stormed his home by breaking down his door, smashing several pieces of furniture and windows. And they took him away. He would never hear from his family or have any contact with the outside world again until November 30, 2024.

We are at his home in the refugee camp in Jenin, perhaps the city most affected by Israeli attacks in the West Bank over the past year. To get there, one has to travel several roads flooded with mud and water, with a panoramic view of piles of debris and damaged or demolished houses. Indeed, the destruction by Tel Aviv’s D9s and bulldozers has spared no infrastructure in the camp, which is considered by Israel to be one of the strongholds of resistance in the West Bank: every road, as well as the water and electricity systems, have been systematically and methodically devastated.

“They arrested me only because I am Palestinian,” begins the account of Abed, who is at pains to emphasize that he was not linked to any party and was not part of the resistance. “The conditions under which they kept us were terrible. I don’t know if I will be able to talk about what I experienced… even animals are not kept like that.” But then, he is a river of words.

“They gave me shampoo six times in a year,” he recounts. “We could shower, but they wouldn’t give us anything to wash with.” Before October 7, life for Palestinians in prison was different. Then the detainees suffered Israel’s revenge on their skin. “We became numbers. They called us by number all the time.” He shows us, it was written in marker on his ID card. It must have been seven to eight digits; reading it feels like going back to moments in history that one hoped had been surpassed. “The first day they gave me a plastic plate, spoon and fork, the disposable kind. I had to use it for a year.” He smiles. “It’s crazy, but when I went out, I wanted to take them with me. I don’t know how to use the real ones anymore.”

There were 14 of them living in a cell that was made for nine people. They slept without mattresses, in beds as hard as stones or on the floor, cramped together to keep warm. “We didn’t have enough clothes, and they didn’t give us anything to cover ourselves. People would make socks by cutting pieces from the blankets.” Abed continued, “When they brought us food, it was not enough for human beings. It was not enough to survive… I lost 60 kg, but if my situation in prison was not so good, the condition of many others was worse.”

News from outside the prison came only when new inmates arrived. There was no contact with the outside world. “Since October 7, they took everything away: no TV, no books, no newspapers, no visits, no letters to family members, no contact with the lawyer.” Not even the hearings were an opportunity to meet the lawyer, or a friendly face. “There was no real court, it was a room, they moved everything online.” He adds: “Every time they moved us from the cell to that room, or somewhere else, we knew we would not come back healthy.” Beatings were the norm, and they could also come during the many searches or counts they did of inmates in cells.

“I have scabies. Almost everyone in prison has scabies, at least 90 percent… I had it all over my body… it was not normal. They didn’t give us medicine. It was torture.” He then talks about a weird episode. “Once they finally sent me to the ‘doctor’ – in prison there was no hospital, and anyway they didn’t give you anything… there was a group of people who were not Israelis, they were international. I asked one of these ‘doctors’ where he was from, he told me [he was] French; he didn’t help me. Sometimes I think they were doing tests on us, like we were animals.”

He repeats several times, “I just want to be considered a human being, it doesn’t matter that I am Palestinian, I am a human being.”

He shows us video of when he was released from prison a few days ago. When he was released, he was greeted by a crowd of his family and friends, where he hugged his mother and he cried. “For a year, I never cried. But as soon as I saw my mother, I cried,” he recounts. “My mother was sick. I could never write to her. But whenever I had a chance to see the moon from my cell, I sent her a message through the moon…”

At least 47 inmates have died in Israeli prisons since Oct. 7 due to torture or lack of treatment by Israel. I ask him if he has witnessed such incidents. He seethes. “One of these 47 was in my cell,” he says. “They brought him, who was already beaten to a pulp; he was injured. They had moved him there. Then they beat him again. At night they came in and counted us, they did that a lot. It was winter, it was cold. He was still lying on the ground, because he was sick, he couldn’t get up. I remember seeing blood coming out of his chest, I think he had internal bleeding but also external bleeding, he was bleeding. The police picked him up and carried him out of the cell, I could see him. They left him there in the open for hours and hours. It took him six hours to die. In front of my eyes.” They wanted to kill him, he says between the lines. He was politicized, from the Hamas party. He would not give his name.

He is afraid; he does not want to go back to prison. “I never want to live that condition of life again,” he says. The state of Israel in fact does not forget. Abed points us to Karim, a young boy of perhaps 15 who has been sitting by his side since the start of the chat. “Every time they raid here in the camp, the military enters his house and beats his whole family. This is because a member of his family in the past had relations with the resistance… Even though he is dead, they continue to take revenge and punish the whole family. They beat everyone.”

“Even if we believe in peace, where is the peace? I want peace. Israel does not want peace.”

He asks if he can leave a message for the rest of the world. He takes my notebook and writes in large Arabic characters, underlining the wording several times: 

ALL PALESTINIANS LOVE LIFE.

The voice of family members of detainees in Israeli jails

On Monday 25 November, about eighty women, mothers, sisters and wives, gathered in Nablus, in the West Bank, to demonstrate in solidarity with the nearly 100 women detained in Israeli jails, along with around 12,000 men, to demand their release and an end to the ongoing genocide in Gaza. Their family members have been in Israeli jails for months or years, yet nothing has been heard from them since 7 October last year.

Women gather in Nablus in support of prisoners and against the genocide in Gaza.

“We want to live in a free country! Out with the occupation forces! They burn Gaza with phosphorus bombs, and tomorrow it’s our turn,” they chanted in one of the city’s main squares while clutching pictures of their loved ones imprisoned.

Woman holding pictures of loved one.

And again: “We will not tire; they are the occupiers and the criminals. They kill the children of Palestine, men and women rise up against this.”

“My son has been in prison for two and a half years,” says Hanan, holding a photo of a smiling young man in his 30s. She has not heard from him for more than a year. “The situation in prison is very bad now,” she says. “We don’t know anything anymore because we have no chance to communicate with them in any way. No institution, red cross or human rights association, no lawyer can reach them to tell us how they are. We are very worried about our sons.” She adds: “I hope my voice will reach the whole world, and that someone will help us.”

Women gather in Nablus in support of prisoners and against the genocide in Gaza.

There are a many, too many stories. Their families brave the risks of arrest and detention to take to the streets, sometimes weekly, to demand the release of their loved ones and demand news.

“My son Samir has been in prison for eight months in administrative detention,” says another woman, a photo of the young man in her arms. “Every time his detention period ends, they renew it for him. The Israeli administration refuses permission to the lawyer and anyone else to visit him. We only hear from him when someone is released from of the same prison.

“My son is sick, and he has no treatment. They don’t give him medicine. They don’t send people for treatment.”

Also in Tulkarem, where every Tuesday dozens of people gather outside the headquarters of the International Red Cross in the hope that their voices will be heard outside the country. A band of young boys with drums and musical instruments set the rhythm for the chants, while family members and representatives of local human rights associations pass the microphone around. “With soul and blood, we will defend our prisoners! Raise your voice for those who have sacrificed their freedom,” they shout together.

“Conditions in prisons since October 7 are completely different. The number of prisoners has more than doubled,” says Ibrahim Nemer, one of the representatives of the Palestinian Prisoners Club of Tulkarem. “There are more than 12,00 political prisoners in jails now.”

People gathering in Tulkarem in support of prisoners held in Israeli jails.

According to Addameer, leading Palestinian human rights organisation on prisoners rights, before Oct. 7 there were 5,000 political prisoners. The number of administrative detentions has also increased tremendously. There are almost 3,400 people in administrative detention, whereas before it was 1,200.

Administrative detention means that a suspect is arrested and held in jail potentially indefinitely, without being told the reasons for the arrest and without the Israeli authorities being required to present evidence against him. Thus, with no possibility of defence.

“There are no longer humane living conditions in the prisons. Everything that the prisoners’ movement had conquered has been taken away,” Ibrahim continues. “TV, books, and there are no more visits for relatives. They don’t give enough food or water … Most of the prisoners have lost dozens of pounds.”

Prisoners are forced to keep the same clothes for weeks, and despite the cold they are not given the necessary blankets. Even shampoo and soap are not provided.

“It’s torture. There is no other way to describe it.”

Ibrahim describes horrific conditions in Israeli jails over the last year. “Most of the prisoners have scabies. They used to go outside two hours a day, now no outside hours are allowed in most prisons. Obviously, this is contrary to human rights.”

A further problem is their legal status. The West Bank has been occupied by the Israeli army since 1967. This would make its detainees prisoners of war, or political prisoners. “Instead, Israel does not recognize this status, but considers them common prisoners, delinquents. If it considered them political prisoners, or prisoners of war, it would have to treat them differently in accordance with international law,” explains Ibrahim.

Tulkarem.

“The military is always invading the cells where they are detained with dogs, beating them. Many prisoners have been killed in prison, the number has increased a lot since October 7, many have died because of torture and the absence of medical care. The conditions are not conducive to life … so that prisoners are just thinking about how to survive …”

According to the Palestinian Prisoner’s Society, at least forty prisoners have died in Israeli custody since Oct. 7. But it could be many more. At least 25 bodies have not yet been returned to their families.

“We are back to the prison-system of hundreds of years ago. We know that many people internationally are with us, but that is not enough. Because all governments are supporting Israel with weapons, money, and even soldiers. We need to put more pressure on governments to stop aid and support for Israel and free all political prisoners who are being held,” continues Ibrahim.

He has two sons in prison, and a brother. One son with a one-year sentence; one with a three-year sentence. And the brother with a 21-year prison sentence.

“We are like everyone, yani, like all Palestinian families … but the difficult conditions the prisoners are suffering make families worry about the very lives of their loved ones in prison. The problem is not only that they are detained and the time they have to wait for them to be released, but today every day we fear for their lives.”

Bodies of the martyrs who died while in Israeli jail still held by the occupation.

Human Rights Defender Accused of Supporting Terror

Alison Russell, a Scottish-born Belgian citizen and Human Rights Defender, was detained by the Israeli occupation authorities while documenting the demolition of a house in Masafer Yatta, in the South Hebron Hills of the occupied West Bank.

She was deported after very perfunctory proceedings at the Jerusalem Magistrate’s Court. Israeli police alleged in a public statement that Alison “supported a terrorist organization”. Her attorney pointed out that this claim had no basis. Nevertheless, the presiding judge issued a verdict couched in fiery nationalist rhetoric, claiming that “There are many faces to Hamas terror. There are various kinds of terrorists. Some terrorists wield guns and bombs while others use a computer keyboard”.

The Human Rights Defender was taken to the Ben Gurion Airport, and deported, with a decree issued to bar her re-entry. Itamar Ben Gvir, the Kahane linked Minister of Police in the Netanyahu government, issued a personal statement celebrating “The deportation of the Belgian terrorist supporter who had supported the Hamas Nazis” and “congratulating the Judea and Samaria Police for their good work”.   

In the last month and a half, the charge of being a “supporter of a terrorist organization” has become an excuse for an extensive campaign of political persecution against anyone who dares to post any protest the unfolding genocide in Gaza. This is affected against Palestinians who have Israeli citizenship, and against Israeli Jews such as the teacher Meir Baruchin who was detained for almost a week on completely unfounded charges. In the Gaza Strip, a far more brutal procedure for the same allegations is implemented. A Gazan journalist or political activist accused of “supporting Hamas” may expect to be targeted and/or have their family targeted by a missile from an Israeli warplane. Such was, for example, the fate of Ahmed Abu Artema and countless other Palestinian activists and journalists.

Nowadays in Israel, all it takes to be charged with “supporting terrorism” is to express sorrow and pain over the killing of children in the bombing of the Gaza Strip. State Attorney Amit Isman strongly criticized these detentions, but Israel’s police, controlled by Ben-Gvir, persist in carrying out such detentions. 

In the case of human rights defender Alison Russell, the far-fetched charges of “supporting terrorism” or “keyboard terrorism” cover up the real reason for her detention and deportation. In court, the state asserted that “she had many times disrupted the activities of the IDF troops, whenever she came in contact with them”. Indeed, it is highly disturbing for the troops to have outside observers and witnesses present where acts of oppression take place, which often constitute blatant violations of International Law. 

Not in vain do the soldiers regularly confiscate the mobile phones of activists and even the footage of international TV crews. Alison, like the other human rights defenders who come from all over the world to express solidarity with the Palestinian people in their difficult time, together with Israeli people of conscience, are struggling to stem the wave of ethnic cleansing which is going on all over the West Bank, under cover of the war in Gaza.

The shepherd communities, the most vulnerable part of Palestinian society, have become the target of a brutal attack by the fanatic settler militias, and already sixteen such communities have been forced to leave their land under violent attacks and explicit threats of murder.

The tiny villages at Masafer Yatta in the South Hebron Hills are attacked by settlers on one side and the army on the other: The settlers attack the villages, destroy whatever is at hand and threaten entire communities with murder, and in these criminal acts they enjoy complete immunity from the police and army. For its part, the army arrives to destroy the houses of the villagers, houses which were declared to be “illegal” by the Supreme Court. Alison was detained and deported when she tried to document the destruction of one of these houses..

The police had stated “a deportation order from Israel” was issued to Alison, as well as a decree  to “prevent her from entering Israel” in the future. We would like to emphasize that Alison never wanted to “enter Israel”. She wanted to come to the West Bank, a Palestinian territory occupied by Israel, by the express invitation of Palestinian residents to document and intervene in human rights abuses and stop an ongoing nakba.

In the words of Alison herself, “The UN, created when the world was saying ‘nie wieder faschismus,’ has given up on Palestine. But right now, right here, in a tiny little corner of Palestine, there are a dozen villages that are under direct and immediate threat. When the handful of determined people that are here manage to organize a group to sleep in the hamlets, we delay their expulsion…I’m here ‘cos I really think our action is effective. Please make it more effective by getting involved too.”

Alison points to a sign that says, “Humanitarian support to Palestinians at risk of forcible transfer in the West Bank.”

An unbreakable will

The family of Maher Al-Akhras, who is on hunger strike in Israeli prison. Credit: Diana Khwaelid

“I will go on a hunger strike until I get freedom or martyrdom.”

This is what the prisoner Maher Al-Akhras (52), from the village of Hajjah, Jenin district, said after the Israeli occupation forces raided his house and arrested him without charges last Thursday night, August 24.

The prisoner Maher works as a farmer. He owns a farm with cows and takes care of his family of 6 children, the youngest of whom is his daughter Toqa, who is 9 years old. He is a man who loves his family, supports the families of prisoners and martyrs and is always present for help and solidarity.

He is considered one of the most famous prisoners who went on an open hunger strike in order to get freedom. He is a former prisoner, and the Israeli occupying forces have not brought clear charges against him.

Credit: Diana Khwaelid

Maher suffers from a difficult health situation, and his wife said that she feels afraid for her husband, since he suffers from high blood pressure and diabetes, and recently underwent surgery. The lawyer also said that he is in pain and does not feel well. Maher refuses to take any medication from the Israeli prison administration and to get treatment, because he was arrested without charge and wrongfully. He is one of dozens of prisoners who were arrested without a clear charge, and are held under administrative detention in Israeli jail. This is one of the ways through which the occupation imposes its control on the Palestinian people.

His daughter Toqa added that she worries for her father, and she stressed that the occupation is unjust and brutal and that she misses him very much. Like any child in the world, she has the right to live with her father in peace.

Her mum assured her that Maher is a strong person and believes in his just cause, that his will will not be broken, that the Lord is taking care of him, and she hopes that he will be released.

Maher’s mother, who is 74 years old, said that she misses her son, and she is worried for him because of his health, and prays for him day and night, until he comes out safely. She believes that the occupation’s racist practices will not continue, and that the occupation will disappear.

Maher, who has been on hunger strike for 6 days, is sacrificing his life and health in order to demand his freedom, to tell the occupation that the Palestinian people have the right to live in freedom and peace.

Credit: Diana Khwaelid