Arrest and Detention in the Palestinian Occupied Territories

By Sofia Ijaz, 1L, Addameer (Palestine)

Every time I am called to appear before

your courts, I become nervous and afraid. Eighteen years ago, my sister was killed in a courtroom, such as this by a staff member. In my lifetime, I have been nine times imprisoned for an overall of almost 3 years, though I was never charged or convicted. During my imprisonment, I was paralyzed as a result of torture by your investigators. My wife was detained, my children were wounded, my land was stolen by settlers, and now my house is slated for demolition.” - Bassem Tamimi, father of four and human rights activist in the West Bank, in a statement to the military court at his trial on 5 June 2011.

There are thousands of stories in Palestine. You see them in the faces of young men sitting on street corners, unemployed and frustrated, and in the elderly, tired from decades of dislocation and humiliation. You hear them in the shouting of soldiers and the grinding of metal gates at check-points. You feel them in the heavy night air, when arrest raids are taking place under the cloak of darkness. Despite all the different ways military occupation affects daily life, the experience of imprisonment is one that almost all living in the Occupied West Bank, East Jerusalem, and the Gaza strip share. I will relay some of these stories which I came to know during my time in Palestine, working with the prisoner‘s rights group, Addameer, and witnessing trials at the Israeli military courts this summer.

Since the beginning of the Israeli military occupation in 1967, over 700,000 Palestinians have been arrested and detained under a set of military orders which govern civilian life. As per The Guardian, this means that an estimated 20% of the entire Palestinian population (or 40% of the entire male population according to Addameer) has been imprisoned at some time during their lives. Palestinians arrested by Israel and charged with criminal and security violations are tried in either of two military courts located in the West Bank. Some however are held in administrative detention without charge or trial for periods of up to 6 months, a term which is renewable indefinitely pursuant to Article 285 of Israeli Military Order 1651. According to Israel‘s Military Courts Report (2007), approximately 90% of all those charged are convicted. While Israel is permitted as an occupying power to establish military courts to try the civilian population, these courts are far from meeting basic requirements of international law regarding fair trial rights. For example, in contravention to the right to have adequate time and facilities to prepare a defence as per Article 14 (3) (b) of The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), a detainee can be held without access to counsel for 90 days. Furthermore, lawyers for the detainees face significant obstacles in preparing a defence due to court documents being written in Hebrew, incomplete disclosure of prosecution materials (deemed "secret evidence"), and difficulties meeting clients held in detention centers or prisons inside Israel. In contravention to the right to trial without undue delay as per Article 14 (3) (c) of the ICCPR, a detainee can be held for interrogation for 8 days without being brought before a judge. This interrogation period can be extended for an initial period of 90 days, which can be renewed for a subsequent 90 days; this means that a detainee can be held for 188 days in interrogation without charge. In addition, military officers have incredible leeway in determining what constitutes a violation. Pursuant to various military orders, such as Israel Defence Forces Military Order No. 101, a whole host of civic activities may be deemed offenses, including publishing "material having a political significance," carrying a Palestinian flag, or attending a demonstration.

I witnessed the military trials of cases Ad- dameer was working on at the Israeli Military Court in Ofer. Inside half a dozen trailer-like courtrooms, four to five detainees are tried during a given session, which lasts approximately 15 minutes. On August 14, I attended the trial of 18-year old Mahmoud from Hebron. (I am not using the detainee‘s real name as proceedings against him are ongoing). Mahmoud was accused of raising his hand in defiance of a soldier. Court proceedings are conducted exclusively in Hebrew, a language, in the vast majority of cases, not understood by the accused Palestinians. Translation is provided by an Israeli soldier. Mahmoud, who met his lawyer for the first time at the beginning of the proceedings, quickly tried to explain in Arabic that he did not raise his hand in defiance, but rather to cover his face in order to prevent the soldier from photographing him. When his lawyer (who only spoke Arabic) explained to the court what happened, the translator mistranslated the statement "preventing the solider" as "hitting the soldier." Another Palestinian lawyer in the room, who understood Hebrew, stood up and attempted to correct the mistake, but was silenced. Immediately, the verdict was pronounced: guilty of assaulting a soldier. (I was only able to follow this interchange because I speak Arabic).

At the same session, sixteen-year old Ziad (also not his real name) was being tried for throwing stones at a military jeep. "Throwing stones" was the most frequent charge in the trials I witnessed this summer. According to a July 2011 report by the Israeli Human Rights NGO B‘Tselem, between 2005 and 2010, 835 Palestinian minors were arrested and tried on charges of throwing stones; all except one were found guilty. During Ziad‘s trial, his father requested multiple times to address the Court. He was repeatedly silenced. Desperately, Ziad‘s father interrupted one last time, "My child is sick. He has thalassemia and was in the hospital undergoing a blood transfusion at the time you are accusing him of throwing stones. It‘s impossible. He is weak, he doesn‘t go out." The translator, unable to find the word for "thalassemia" in Hebrew, shrugged and told the judge to carry on. Ziad was found guilty and charged a penalty of 5,000 shekels.

As an observer at the trials, I was also able to meet family members of the detainees. For most, it was the only time they were able to meet their sons, brothers, fathers, and husbands throughout the course of detention. This is because eighteen of nineteen Israeli prisons are located outside of the occupied territory, an illegal practice under Article 76 of the Fourth Geneva Convention. Once, an excited sister next to me whispered loudly to her brother, past the guards sitting between them, that she found the perfect girl for him. A new bride mouthed to her recently arrested husband that she was pregnant. These flashes of news from outside made the prisoners smile, despite the grave situation before them.

Only after spending time in the Occupied Territories have I come to understand the different ways in which military occupation impacts daily life – routine imprisonment being one of the most debilitating effects. Occupation is a phenomenon far outside my ordinary frame of reference as a Canadian citizen. I continue to be struck by the profound patience demonstrated by those who face it every day, in all its forms.