Palestine is on a date with pain in the great hunger season


Palestine is on a date with pain in the great hunger season


I write my article at a time when seven Palestinian administrative prisoners are suffering from hunger strikes, some of which started more than fifty days ago; While the two captives, Kayed Phosphorous and Miqdad Al-Qawasma, crossed the eighty-day barrier, and now face, according to all medical reports, the possibility of sudden death, or bodily damage that cannot be treated in the future.

I do not know how the prisoners will end their strikes; The condition for each one to stop his strike is that he obtain his freedom, or in the worst option, that the Israeli security forces pledge a specific date for his release, provided that it is close to the expiry date of the existing detention order.

I had indicated in the past that administrative detentions against Palestinians are considered one of the vicious and oppressive practices of the occupation, not only because they do not respect basic human rights and do not allow the prisoner a fair opportunity to defend himself, but also because they leave the prisoner in a state of confusion and exhausted anxiety, as he does not know release date; In practice, the military law allows the commander of the occupation army to extend detention orders against any administrative prisoner for unlimited periods, provided that the duration of one order does not exceed the six-month period. Dozens of Palestinian citizens have been administratively detained for several years, without indictments being filed against them and without confronting them with open and clear evidence; Military court and Supreme Court judges routinely approved arrest warrants throughout the years of occupation.

I recently visited the prisoner Miqdad Al-Qawasmeh, who is lying in the Kaplan Hospital in Rehoboth; After the "Israeli Supreme Court" decided to suspend his administrative detention order, due to the seriousness of his health condition, because of which his consideration as a "danger" to the security of the "region" and the safety of people is invalidated. I conveyed to him the latest developments in his case, and an explanation of the prospects for my expected legal action; Note that, according to the latest development, he is no longer a captive in the traditional sense of the word, and has not become sick in the familiar sense of humans; The decision of the judges of the Supreme Court turned it into “Asid” (a carving of the words “captive and sick”), a situation developed by the dictionaries of the Israeli occupation, which can be applied to the Palestinians, if they decide to confront, with their empty stomachs, the will of the Sultan, and to seek their freedom, and they are according to the “staffs.” ».

His body was disturbingly weak.. He heard me, with his black eyes open, but he was unable to speak, I lowered my face to him to hear what he was trying to say, and between the breaths I found determination, and at every pause hope and a commandment not to bow. I told him: But you seek life; So he moved his palm slowly and threw it on my palm, I felt a heat and a shiver and asked him to take the mask off his face, I believe in smiles, the language of the soul for the soul, so he did, so I saw the remains of the morning of my tired boyfriend. I tried to reassure his parents as best I could; But they know that his health is critical. They told me about their feelings of hostility from people and some members of the hospital staff, especially after the news of Sheikh Ismail Haniyeh’s contact with them to check on Miqdad’s health, and after publishing pictures of Arab nurses embracing him gently and lovingly, we were outside the room and I was preparing to travel to visit a clinic. Ramleh prison, where Hisham Abu Hawash, Alaa Al-Araj, and Shadi Abu Akar lie, three knights who raised their hunger with swords in the face of injustice, and proceeded to melt their bodies with torches on the path of freedom and pottery convoys. Umm Miqdad approached me and said: “His aches are increasing, and I am becoming more anxious and my grief is increasing for him.

I do not want it to be recorded that he went on the highest hunger strike, but rather I want to save my son so that he can come back to our house and eat from my hand.” I heard her words, and I grieved and remembered my mother, and how much I hate hypocrisy platforms and ruminating slogans at preachers and trading in hunger and the suffering of the great. The repercussions of the September 6 operation and the escape of the six prisoners from the Gilboa prison may clash with the issue of the personal strikes that he is engaged in these days, as I mentioned, seven of the prisoners, the majority of whom belong to the Islamic Jihad movement, and with whom are elements of Fatah and Hamas. Last Wednesday, we read a statement issued by the prisoners of the Jihad movement in the prisons of the occupation, in which they announced the start of the movement's mujahideen on an open hunger strike in all prisons from north to south. The title of the strike, as they announced it, will be: “The battle to defend the legacy of the captive movement and its organizational structure,” which is a remarkable title for a bold step that calls for follow-up and verification of its outcomes and the extent to which the initiators succeeded in implementing the escalatory steps they announced, which were contained in the statement. Last Wednesday, we read a statement issued by the prisoners of the Jihad movement in the prisons of the occupation, in which they announced the start of the movement's mujahideen on an open hunger strike in all prisons from north to south. 

The title of the strike, as they announced it, will be: “The battle to defend the legacy of the captive movement and its organizational structure,” which is a remarkable title for a bold step that calls for follow-up and verification of its outcomes and the extent to which the initiators succeeded in implementing the escalatory steps they announced, which were contained in the statement. Last Wednesday, we read a statement issued by the prisoners of the Jihad movement in the prisons of the occupation, in which they announced the start of the movement's mujahideen on an open hunger strike in all prisons from north to south. The title of the strike, as they announced it, will be: “The battle to defend the legacy of the captive movement and its organizational structure,” which is a remarkable title for a bold step that calls for follow-up and verification of its outcomes and the extent to which the initiators succeeded in implementing the escalatory steps they announced, which were contained in the statement.

Umm Miqdad says: “His pain is increasing. I do not want him to record that he went on the highest hunger strike, but rather I want to save my son so that he can return to our house and eat from my hand.”

In my article today, I will not touch upon the content of the statement and its possible future consequences. We have to wait for what the coming days will lead to, and then I will return to discuss the dimensions of this step and its possible effects on the general Palestinian political situation, and on the reality of the captive movement, which suffers from a grave defect about which it seems no longer possible to remain silent. Until we return to the echoes of the statement, I will draw attention to the fifth clause of it, in which we call for the necessity of “ending the administrative detention of the brothers who are on administrative strike.” It is a natural demand that no one was able to skip, but I think that the initiators of this step were alert, and they took into account that their inclusion of such a demand, at this critical stage that the seven strikers are going through, is not necessarily in the interest of the strikers, but may complicate their case. It delays its dissolution, especially if the "strike committee" insists on achieving all of its six demands contained in the statement as a condition for reversing their step. I arrived at the Ramle prison yard at exactly one o'clock. I entered, and a jailer, a Russian immigrant who is fluent in the language of humanoid robots, greeted me. He asked me to go to the reception window to hand over my card, my phone, and my car keys. Behind the window sat an Arab jailer who knew me from my previous visits, and greeted me with a welcome that the immigrant did not like, as I understood from the movements of his neck bones.

I put everything I had into a small container, put it in the screening machine, and headed toward a gate, a freak like a plastic triumphal arch, adorned with red lamps that were all off, and as soon as I "stepped on the edge" it began to whistle with crazy noises. I took a step back, and the warden in charge of taming the machine jumped up and asked me angrily: Do you wear a belt? He did not wait for an answer, so he ordered me to remove it and to take off my shoes and insert them into the stomach of the examination machine. I put everything I had into a small container, put it in the screening machine, and headed toward a gate, a freak like a plastic triumphal arch, adorned with red lamps that were all off, and as soon as I "stepped on the edge" it began to whistle with crazy noises. I took a step back, and the warden in charge of taming the machine jumped up and asked me angrily: Do you wear a belt? He did not wait for an answer, so he ordered me to remove it and to take off my shoes and insert them into the stomach of the examination machine.

I put everything I had into a small container, put it in the screening machine, and headed toward a gate, a freak like a plastic triumphal arch, adorned with red lamps that were all off, and as soon as I "stepped on the edge" it began to whistle with crazy noises. I took a step back, and the warden in charge of taming the machine jumped up and asked me angrily: Do you wear a belt? He did not wait for an answer, so he ordered me to remove it and to take off my shoes and insert them into the stomach of the examination machine.
The inspection process ended peacefully; I went with the immigrant to the clinic. He was friendly with his calmness and his black mask covering the largest area of ​​his white face. His chest was bloated like that of a professional athlete and his hair was as short as a boxer. Suddenly, I heard him say to me in a low voice: “We may not be able to enter the clinic now, for I knew that one of the prisoners had died or had fallen there moments before they were trying to revive him.” He said with a gentle coldness and continued his walk. I held my breath ready to scream, and he looked at me and I felt that he was not lying to me.

A yellow ambulance stood in front of the clinic door, and a number of Prison Authority officers were around it We stopped in front of them, and one of them recognized me, an officer who declared to his colleagues, with a kind of glee, that he had known me for thirty years. This officer welcomed my presence, but immediately apologized that I could not enter.. There lay the body of a prisoner who had died a few minutes ago; Then he added, in a reassuring tone: He is a criminal, not one of your companions!
They took me back to the entrance hall, and I waited for an hour. Then, as they promised me, my escort came, and took me to the lawyers' room. I noticed that the yellow ambulance was still parked near the entrance to the clinic. I asked my companion about it, and he turned his arms around in a movement that I understood: You better not ask. I asked to bring the prisoner Alaa Al-Araj, and the officer in charge told me that they transferred him on the same day to a civilian hospital for medical examinations. I asked the two captives, Hisham Abu Hawash and Shadi Abu Akar.

They were dragged by a jailer in two wheelchairs, and, after fifty days of a hunger strike, they could not walk that far. I visited each one separately from behind cold, thick glass. Their voice over the phone was low and slow. They complained of headaches and joints, and of poor memory and ability to concentrate. They vomited constantly because they drank very little water. I reassured them about the family, and briefed them on the latest developments with the Military Prosecution, and promised them that I would follow up with all parties so that I could succeed in reaching a solution that they would be satisfied with. They, like the rest of their colleagues, are determined to gain their freedom and return to their families with dignity. I did not come with them to mention the idea of ​​the big strike, as this is a story that can be postponed.

I left the clinic and the ambulance was still parked; She remembered that they were waiting for the forensic diagnostic unit to complete its field examinations before transporting the body. Then, on my way out of the prison, I understood from one of the warders that they were still waiting for that unit to arrive. I turned my arms, imitating the movement of my immigrant escorts, and I didn't get a shiver. (Jawad Boulos - Palestinian writer)



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