November 2019 saw another round of hostilities in the Gaza Strip. This time, Israel killed 35 Palestinians, 14 of whom were civilians who took no part in the fighting, including three women and eight children. According to OCHA figures, hospitals treated more than 100 individuals wounded in Israeli attacks, including more than 45 minors. During the fighting, Palestinian armed groups fired about 450 rockets and mortar shells at Israel, injuring several civilians.
The UN reports Israel destroyed 12 housing units and severely damaged at least 12 others. This left at least 24 families, with at least 135 members, 48 of them children under five, homeless. About 500 additional housing units were partially damaged.
Thirteen of the civilians who did not take part in the fighting were killed in three different attacks. In two of these attacks, two members of the military wings of Palestinian armed groups were also killed – Ahmad 'Abd al-’Aal (Hamas) and Muhammad a-Sawarkah (Islamic Jihad). No official source said the two men were the targets of the assault. As far as B'Tselem is aware, they were killed unintentionally along with their family members.
Among the dead were nine members of the a-Sawarkah family, including five children, who were killed in the bombing of their Deir al-Balah family compound. Shortly after this attack, the IDF Spokesperson stated in Arabic that the target was a top Islamic Jihad member, Rasmi Abu Malhus, information that proved erroneous and based on social media posts. The military later claimed the attack was aimed at an Islamic Jihad training facility. Media reports ultimately revealed that contrary to the military’s official statements, the target – the a-Sawarkah family compound – had not been reassessed for many months, and no attempt was made to make sure no civilians were on site prior to the attack.
This information brought to light more details about Israeli bombings in Gaza, including that contrary to claims made by all officials over the years, targets are added to the “target bank” in an almost arbitrary process and the military rewards personnel for naming more targets. It also emerged that prior to bombing a site listed in its “target bank”, the military rarely checks whether it is, in fact, being used for the purposes that earned it a place in the bank to begin with, or whether any civilians who may be hurt are on site. While this information emerged in the context of the deadly attack on the a-Sawarkah family, it also explains the bombings of hundreds of other homes in Gaza over the years – including during Operation Cast Lead, Operation Pillar of Defense and Operation Protective Edge –which killed thousands.
The military law enforcement system investigated only a handful of the thousands of deaths caused by these bombings, and all of the investigations thus far completed have ended in nothing, with the military repeatedly finding that “at the time the decision was taken, it was considered that the collateral damage expected from the attack would not be excessive in relation to the military advantage anticipated from it”, and that, “this assessment was not unreasonable under the circumstances”. However, the information that has now been revealed about the military’s practices shows that its processes are much less orderly and meticulous than previously stated and that it is highly doubtful that the extent of the “collateral damage expected from the attack” had, in fact, been assessed. These new revelations also raise questions about the true nature of this alleged “assessment”, the information on which it was based, and the information on the basis of which the site was initially added to the target bank. All of this corroborates the fact that this is simply a whitewashing mechanism.
The policy is formulated by government officials and top military commanders and backed by baseless legal opinions furnished by the Military Advocate General Corps. The military accordingly continues to implement this policy in every round of fighting, despite its horrifying outcomes. B'Tselem has repeatedly stated over the years that this policy is patently illegal and immoral. Now it turns out hundreds of senior and junior officials within the institutions that plan, approve and implement this policy have known this for years, yet nothing has been done to change it.
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From right to left: Isma’il, Ahmad and Ibrahim ‘Abd al-‘Aal. Photos courtesy of the family
13 Nov. 2019: The killing of three members of the 'Abd al-’Aal family and two members of Islamic Jihad in the Gaza City industrial area
On Wednesday morning, 13 November 2019, at around 9:00 A.M., the Israeli air force fired a missile at a tin structure used for storing and compressing metal scraps in the neighborhood of a-Tufah in Gaza City. Three employees, all residents of Gaza City, were on site at the time: Muhammad al-Yazji, 23 and father of one; his brother, Nasrallah, a 13-year-old eighth-grader; and Ahmad Abu ‘Aweidah, 23. On site were also two brothers who work in a family woodshop across the way: Ibrahim 'Abd al-’Aal, 17, and Ahmad 'Abd al-’Aal, 23. Muhammad al-Yazji and Ahmad Abu ‘Aweidah were wounded by shrapnel. Nasrallah al-Yazji suffered minor injuries in the leg. Ibrahim and Ahmad 'Abd al-’Aal ran to their family woodshop, but as soon as they entered, two missiles hit it. Another missile was fired at the wounded Muhammad al-Yazji and Ahmad Abu ‘Aweidah, who had fled the tin structure. Ibrahim and Ahmad 'Abd al-’Aal and their brother, Isma’il, 16, who was in the woodshop, were killed. Two members of the military wing of Islamic Jihad who were in the area, Soheil Qanitah and Mahmoud Hathat, were also killed.
In a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Muhammad Sabah on 13 November 2019, Muhammad al-Yazji recounted:
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Muhammad al-Yazji in hospital. Photo by: Muhammad Sabah, B’Tselem, 18 Nov. 2019
At around 9:00 A.M., I heard a huge explosion that shook the place. Ahmad Abu ‘Aweidah and I were hit by shrapnel all over our bodies and ran west. Ibrahim and Ahmad 'Abd al-’Aal ran to their woodshop, which is about thirty meters east of the tin shack. As soon as they went in there, I heard two explosions one after the other. We kept running until we were a few dozen meters away from the shack, and then I sat down against the wall of a house and started wiping the blood off my face, and Ahmad Abu ‘Aweidah went to get a car. When he was barely a few meters away from me, another missile landed near us. I was hit by shrapnel in the chest and other places in my body. I had trouble breathing and couldn’t move. I felt like I was going to die. I had a hard time seeing, too, especially in the right eye that had been directly hit.
In a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Muhammad Sabah on 2 December 2019, Nasrallah al-Yazji recounted:
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Nasrallah al-Yazji. Photo by: Muhammad Sabah, B’Tselem, 3 Dec. 2019
Suddenly there was a very strong explosion, and I saw a lot of smoke. I felt a sharp pain in my leg. I crawled and looked around inside the shack but couldn’t see anyone there. I couldn’t get up. I managed to crawl outside, and I heard Muhammad shouting and calling Ahmad Abu 'Aweidah. I saw blood on his face, and I saw Abu ‘Aweidah bleeding from the leg. I saw Ahmad 'Abd al-’Aal advancing toward the woodshop, and when he got there, two missiles fell on it.
I crawled toward Muhammad and Ahmad Abu ‘Aweidah, and then another missile fell on them. I called out to Muhammad and to someone who was standing on the roof of a nearby house. I said: “Help me, I can’t walk”, but he didn’t answer me. I don’t even know if he heard me. I tried to walk again, but I couldn’t. I kept crawling, and then I managed to walk a little, maybe 50 meters, until I came across someone who lifted me up and took me to the main road to find someone to evacuate me, but no car passed by.
I told him: “There are two more wounded people over there. Go over there. Help them”. He tried calling emergency services and kept walking until we came across a car that took me to a-Shifaa Hospital.
I still can’t believe this happened to us. My ears are still hurting from the bombing, and my leg still hurts. The incident left me terrified: the noise of the bombings, the blood, my injuries, my brother’s and Ahmad Abu ‘Aweidah’s. I was sure I was going to die, and I was scared no one would come help us and we wouldn’t get treated. It’s an industrial area, not a residential area, and because of the fighting there was no one around. People were scared. I’ve been anxious ever since, and every noise startles me.
Khitam 'Abd al-’Aal, Ibrahim’s, Ahmad’s and Isma’il’s mother, who is married and has 13 other children, spoke about the incident in a testimony she gave B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 8 December 2019:
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Khitam al-Yazji and her son Yunes. Photo by: Olfat al-Kurd, B’Tselem, 3 Dec. 2019
When I got to the hospital with my husband and two of my sons, Fathi, 22, and Mahmoud, 21, I went from place to place, looking for my sons. I was told Ahmad was in surgery, but they wouldn’t let me in to see him. I went back to the morgue and told myself I had to open the cold chamber and see the martyrs because one of my sons might be there. A lot of people were standing at the entrance, including Fathi. He told me: “Mother, Ibrahim”. I said to him: “May God have mercy on his soul”.
I sat beside the cold chamber, put my head in my hands and cried. I was in shock. My husband, Ayman, and his mother, Sa’dah, came and sat beside me. After a little while, my entire family and my husband’s entire family came and gathered around me, really close. A few minutes later, they brought my son Ibrahim’s body. I said: “May God have mercy on his soul”. A little while later, they also brought my son Isma’il’s body, and again, I said: “May God have mercy on Isma’il’s soul”. I held the gurney tight and told my husband: “It’s Isma’il”. His face was all bloody. I looked at him, and my heart broke. I couldn’t take any more and I told my husband I wanted to go home. I couldn’t stop crying
About fifteen minutes after I got home, Ibrahim’s and Isma’il’s bodies were brought to us. I hugged them and kissed them and wished them rest and mercy. I prayed to God to give me strength after their death. They took my sons’ bodies for prayer in the mosque nearby. I heard over the mosque speakers: “Hold off a little with the prayer for the martyrs because their third brother, Ahmad, has joined them.”
After about half an hour, they brought my son Ahmad and placed him before me. I cried and hugged him and kissed his head and prayed for Heaven’s mercy.
My sons were innocent. They were at work, and the Israeli military attacked them with missiles mercilessly. I lost three sons all at once. I look at their photographs and say: Three sons! It was a huge shock for me and my husband. I hoped Ahmad would survive, but he joined his brothers.
Does the Israeli air force know who my sons were? Ahmad was the life of the house. He always had a charming smile. Ibrahim worked night and day. I’d ask him to rest sometimes, but he was hardworking and didn’t like to stay home with nothing to do. I long to see Isma’il come home from school again.
They left a huge hole in our lives. I keep going over to their closet, touching their clothes, smelling them and crying. My heart has broken from the pain. They stole my happiness. I was waiting for Ahmad to marry his fiancée, Maryam 'Abd al-’Aal, his cousin on his father’s side. The wedding party was supposed to take place this April, but they took him away from her. She’s also in shock and crying over him all the time.
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From right to left: Islam, Raafat and Amir ‘Ayad. Photos courtesy of the family
13 November 2019: The killing of three members of the ‘Ayad family while they were riding a motorcycle in Gaza City
On Wednesday morning, 13 November 2019, at around 9:15 A.M., Raafat ‘Ayad, 54 and retired, was riding on a motorcycle with two of his sons, Islam, 23, and Amir, 7. The three were headed from their home in the Gaza City neighborhood of a-Zeitun to the home of Raafat’s ex-wife, Manal ‘Alwan, 43, several hundred meters away. Raafat was planning to drop off Amir and head to a-Shifaa Hospital to visit another of his sons, Ihab, 25, who had been wounded about ten minutes earlier when Israel attacked Palestinians who were launching rockets from farm fields near Raafat’s home. As they neared ‘Alwan’s home, the Israeli air force fired a missile directly at them, killing Raafat and seriously wounding Amir and Islam, both of whom died of their injuries shortly after.
Manal ‘Alwan, 43, a mother of four including Islam ‘Ayad, gave a testimony to B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd:
That morning, I was home with my daughter Iman, 13, Islam’s sister, doing housework. At around 9:30 A.M., I heard a motorcycle in front of the house. I was sure it was my ex-husband with the boys. Suddenly, I heard a huge explosion at the entrance to the house. I opened the door right away and saw my son, Islam, my ex-husband and his son, Amir, who’s still a kid. They were all lying on the ground with head injuries.
I was sure my ex-husband and son were dead right from the start, but I heard Amir groaning in pain. I started shouting at the top of my lungs: “People, save the child!” Women from the neighborhood saw I was breaking down and took me inside. I felt like I was in a nightmare. I didn’t understand what had happened, why they’d dropped a bomb. And it all happened right in front of my house.
Islam was a good young man and we were very close. When he was 16, the Israeli army caught him near the fence, and he spent three years in Nafha Prison. They didn’t let me visit him the whole time. Ever since he fell as a martyr, I haven’t been able to stop crying. My life has turned black, and I feel like the house is dark. My daughter Iman is also very sad. Her brother, Isma’il, was the one who pampered her and played with her.
I can’t forget little Amir’s cries of pain as he lay wounded on the ground, or the sight of my son Islam lying there.
Amir’s mother, Arzaq al-Masri, 30, who is divorced and has another child, lives in Beit Hanoun. Amir was transferred from her custody to his father Raafat’s three days before he was killed. In a testimony she gave B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd, she spoke about what went through when she got to the hospital.
I ran quickly to the cold chamber at a-Shifaa Hospital and found Amir there on a gurney. I grabbed his hands. I cried and shouted. I was in shock over what happened to him. I hugged him and couldn’t stop crying. My family could barely separate us. I couldn’t leave him. Then they took me home.
Saying goodbye to Amir was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through in my life. I cried and shouted, hugged him, touched his face and kissed him for the last time. My little boy Muhammad was with me, and he said goodbye to him, too. He cried and said Amir would be in heaven. Amir was everything in my life. I lost my happiness, my joy, my smile.
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From right to left: Muhannad a-Sawarkah, his father, Rasmi, and his cousin, Mu’az. Photos courtesy of the family
14 November 2019: The killing of nine members of the a-Sawarkah family when the family compound in Deir al-Balah was bombed
On Thursday night, at around 12:30 A.M., several hours before the ceasefire went into effect, the Israeli air force dropped at least three guided bombs on homes belonging to the a-Sawarkah family on the southern outskirts of Deir al-Balah, while the family members were sleeping. The family compound consists of two tin and cinder block structures and a caravan.
Eight family members were killed in the attack: Rasmi, 45, a former administrative employee with the Palestinian Authority Military Intelligence Agency; one of his wives, Maryam, 33; their two children, Salem, 2, and Firas, 1; Muhannad, 12, Rasmi’s son from a previous marriage; and Rasmi’s sister-in-law, Yusra, 39, and her two children, Mu’az, 7, and Wasim, 13. Yusra’s husband, Muhammad a-Sawarkah, 40, was wounded in the attack and died of his wounds eight days later.Rasmi’s second wife, Wisam, 33, and three of their children, Diaa’, 10, Yusef, 8, and Fahed, 6, were also wounded. Four of Muhammad and Yusra’s children, Narmin, 10, Rim, 8, Lama, 5 and Salem, 3, were also hurt. The rest of the family’s children, Nur, 11, Fawzi, 4, Rasmiya, 2, and Farah, 2 months old, were not physically hurt in the attack.
Shortly after the attack, the IDF Spokesperson stated in Arabic that it had been targeted at top Islamic Jihad member Rasmi Abu Malhus, information that proved erroneous and based on social media posts. The military later claimed the attack was aimed at an Islamic Jihad training facility. However, media reports indicate that contrary to the military’s official statements, the target, the a-Sawarkah family compound, had not been reassessed for many months prior to the attack. An admission from a security establishment official affirms this information: “Targets like a warehouse for weapons aren’t always checked [again] by the IDF before an attack; there’s no way for the IDF to check that. You can’t knock on their door.
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From right to left: Salem, Farah, Nur, Fahed, Diaa’, Fawzi, Rim, Lama. Photo by: Olfat al-Kurd, B’Tselem
‘Atef Lahlub, 47, a father of eight, lives about 200 meters from the a-Sawarkah family compound. He spoke about that night in a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Khaled al-‘Azayzeh:
On Thursday, at around 12:30 A.M., I was asleep in my house in the al-Barakah neighborhood, south of Deir al-Balah. I was woken by a very loud explosion that shook the walls of the house. I called my brother Ahmad, who told me the explosion had come from the direction of the homes of Rasmi and Muhammad a-Sawarkah, about 200 meters south of my house. I ran over there and, on the way, met more local residents who were hurrying there.
When I got there, all I saw was large craters where the houses had stood. We started looking for the occupants along with several paramedics and people from the civil defense. We found Rasmi’s body lying north of his house. He was injured in the head. Then we found his wife, Wisam, who was shouting and looking for her children as we took her to the ambulance. She said she had a two-month-old baby and that her sons were buried under the sand. We kept looking. We dug with our hands and found Maryam, Rasmi’s wife, buried under the sand north of the house, and the baby, Farah, who was alive, and two kids dead next to her. We also found Muhammad, Rasmi’s brother, between his house and Rasmi’s house. He was unconscious. His wife Yusra was next to him, taking her last breaths. We also found two kids, Wasim and Mu’az, Muhammad’s sons, dead and buried under the sand.
After a few hours of searching, I went to the hospital and, together with relatives, counted the martyrs and the wounded. It turned out two kids were missing, Salem and Firas, Rasmi’s sons. I went back home and at 6:30 A.M., we found both of them next to each other, buried under the sand north of their house. They had both been killed.
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Taleb Mesmeh, a neighbor of the a-Sawarkah’s who helped dig for the family members. Photo by: Khaled al-‘Azayzeh, B’Tselem, 14 Nov. 2019
Wisam Abu Harb (a-Sawarkah), 33, Rasmi’s widow and a mother of six, recounted in a testimony she gave B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 27 Nov. 2019:
That night, around midnight, we were all asleep. Our house was a simple structure with a tin roof. Suddenly, I heard a powerful blast and thought the entire house, the stones and the iron rods, was collapsing on the children and me. I started to scream and called to my children, my husband and his wife. I couldn’t see anything in the dark.
I looked for my children and finally found all of them outside the house. Yusef, Diaa’ and Fahed were wounded from shrapnel. I was also wounded by a few pieces of shrapnel in my head and legs. I saw right away that Muhannad, my husband’s son, whom I raised since he was a week old, wasn’t there. I started to ask where he was and to look for him. I found him in a pit covered with sand. I could only see his head. I started to clean the sand from his head. He wasn’t breathing and it was obvious he was dead.
Afterwards, I went to the house of my brother-in-law Muhammad and found him and his wife there, both lying on the ground. My sister-in-law was dying, fighting for her life. Muhammad was wounded over his entire body. Their daughter Nur was standing next to them.
I started looking for my baby, Farah, 2 months old. I looked for her everywhere – in the ruins, between the stones – but I didn’t find her. I couldn’t see a thing in the dark. I also tried to look for my husband and his wife, but I couldn’t, because of the pile of sand and stones. I sent my son Diaa’, who is 10, to his grandmother’s house a short way off our house, to tell them what happened and to call an ambulance to rescue us.
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Two-month-old Farah a-Sawarkah was salvaged from the debris. Photo by: Khaled al-‘Azayzeh, B’Tselem, 5 Dec. 2019
Afterwards, the ambulances arrived and started taking away the wounded and the martyrs. I told the paramedics that I couldn’t find my 2-month-old baby. They found her under the sand. I was sure she was dead. I didn’t see her until I was at the hospital and I was happy to find out that she was alive.
After the hospital, we went to the home of my husband’s mother, and then I learned that my husband, his wife and their three children had all been killed, and that my sister-in-law Yusra and her two sons had been killed and her husband was in critical condition. I started to scream. I screamed at everyone. I screamed about what happened to us. Why were we bombed? What crime did the children commit? Why were they killed? My children now live in great fear.
The hardest was when they brought the martyrs home, so we could part from them. My heart burned from crying. I looked at Muhannad, my husband’s son, whom I raised as my own child, and I cried so hard. Since the bombing, my daughters wake up at night frightened and they start screaming. Especially Rasmiya, who is 2 years old. They go to the ruins of our house and come back wrapped in sadness and loss. They lost their father and their siblings, the house that gave them shelter and protection.
My life has become a great disaster. I live in a state of shock and great fear. May God have mercy on the martyrs, and give us the strength to bear the disasters that have befallen us. The pain is immense. I’ve become a widow, and my children – orphans. We’ve all become homeless, too. We now live with my brother-in-law’s children, who lost their parents, in my mother-in-law’s house.
Nur a-Sawarkah, 11, a sixth-grader, told B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd:
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Nur a-Sawarkah. Photo by: Khaled al-‘Azayzeh, B’Tselem, 5 Dec. 2019
I was at home that night. Everyone was sleeping and only I couldn’t fall asleep because of the noise of some drones. Afterwards I heard tremendous thunder when they bombed our house. My sisters Narmin, 10, and Rim, 8, were sleeping next to me. I ran outside fast – without seeing a thing, because the electricity was cut off by the bombing. I heard three bombings within a few seconds. At that moment I saw Narmin, who also tried to escape but didn’t succeed, because both of her legs were hit.
I moved westwards from the house and when the bombing stopped, I went back and started to look for my sisters. Instead of a house there were a pile of ruins and large pits. I found Wisam, my uncle’s wife, and her children, and together we started to look for my sisters and my cousins. I found my sister Rim buried under sand. Her face was covered with blood. I tried to save her, to pull her out of the sand. I found my brother Salem and my sister Lama next to my mother, who recited the ‘Shahada’ prayer and then was silent. I tried to wake her up, I said, ‘Get up, Mother, get up,’ but she didn’t hear me. I realized that she was dead.
Salem was crying. Afterwards I found my father, who was bleeding. He asked me to call an ambulance. I ran to the concrete warehouse 15 meters east of our house and asked the owner to call an ambulance. He called, and I went back home – to our destroyed house.
Time passed and the ambulance didn’t show up. No one came to rescue us. I was so frightened. All the time I heard drones above us. I was afraid of them and I was afraid they would bomb us again.
When I heard about everyone who was killed I froze with shock – I didn’t cry and I didn’t shout. I felt numb, I couldn’t feel any emotion. Since the Israeli army bombed our house and killed my family I haven’t cried, not even when I parted from the ones who were killed before the funeral. I only looked at them and felt deep sadness. I couldn’t believe what had happened to us. All the people who came to console us cried when they hugged and kissed me, and only I couldn’t cry.
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Salem, Nur’s three-year-old brother, who was injured in the attack. Photo by: Khaled al-‘Azayzeh, B’Tselem, 5 Dec. 2019
My father was in the hospital for about a week in critical condition. When I heard that he died, too, my body started to shake. I went into a terrible panic when I heard that. When I saw his body, so I could part from him, I ran away. I couldn’t look at him.
Three weeks have gone by since they were killed. I miss them all very much, and especially my brother Mu’az, whom I loved very much. We were very close. I keep walking back to the place where our house stood. I remember my brothers, Mother, Father. I remember how I would sit with my cousins, how we played together. The moments I had when the whole family sat around the table to eat. I remember how my mother always made sure that I and my siblings did our homework. We were the happiest family, and suddenly, in one blow, I lost my happiness.
Now I am scared all the time, especially at night. When I hear the planes, I get very frightened. Why did they bomb us, children who were sleeping in their house? What did we do to them? We didn’t do anything to the Israeli army, which took my mother and my father from me, my brothers and my aunt and uncle and my cousins. They took everything that was beautiful in my life away from me. We became orphans.
Over the course of five days of bombings and uncertainty in the Gaza Strip (“a round of fighting”), Israel killed 30 Palestinians. One-third of those killed did not participate in the fighting. All 10 were killed at the exact same moment, on the first night of the fighting, 9 May 2023, at around 2:00 A.M., when Israel, entirely on its own initiative, launched an air strike on three homes where Islamic Jihad operatives lived with their families: In the attack on the home of Tareq ‘Iz a-Din (48), he and his two children, ‘Ali (8) and Mayar (10), were killed. Neighbors living in the apartment above him were also killed: Dr. Jamal Khaswan (52), his wife Mirvat (44) and their son Yusef (19). In the attack on the home of Khalil al-Bahtini (44), he, his wife Layla (43), and their daughter Hajar (4) were killed. Two neighbors, who were sisters, were also killed, Daniyah ‘Addas (19) and Iman ‘Addas (17). In the attack on the home of Jihad Ghanam (62), he and his wife Wafa (61), were killed. Air strikes on homes are not an exception or an aberration, but part of Israel’s longstanding policy in the Gaza Strip. Thousands of Palestinians have already been killed, thousands more have been injured, tens of thousands of homes have been destroyed and hundreds of thousands of people have been left homeless. Entire families have lost their whole world in the blink of an eye, unable to protect their children or themselves inside their own homes. The difference is that in the past, when civilians were killed in Israeli strikes on Gaza, state officials made attempts to say the harm was unexpected: the unfortunate result of some sort of mishap or of bad, partial or obsolete intel, and other such claims. This time around, the masks were off and such claims were not even raised. Instead, Israel maintains the action was legal despite the foreseen results, since the innocents killed were simply “collateral damage,” and in any event, the blame lies with the Islamic Jihad operatives for hiding behind civilians. These justifications, and the legal opinions Israel provided to itself, clearing the strike, rely on an erroneous interpretation of international humanitarian law and a morally distorted worldview, both of which must be rejected. The claim that the action was proportionate and that the dead were just “collateral damage” nullifies the harm to civilians and drains all meaning out of one of the fundamental principles of international law. Furthermore, the question of whether the act was proportionate does not even come up in this case as the attack was aimed at residential buildings that are not legitimate military targets, making the entire strike illegal even before the extensive killing it caused. The claim that the blame for these deaths lies with the Islamic Jihad operatives automatically justifies any action Israel wishes to carry out in the Gaza Strip, no matter how horrifying the consequences, absolving it of the duty to keep harm to civilians and their property to a minimum. Israel is the one that chose to fire the missiles that caused death and destruction , and therefore, Israel alone bears full responsibility for the consequences. Israeli decision-makers chose the timing, the targets and the means for this attack. They consciously chose to fire missiles at homes in the middle of the night, while families were asleep in their beds, knowing it was expected that many - including small children - would be killed. As with any crime, there are people who are criminally liable, including the Prime Minister, the Minister of Defense, the Chief of Staff, the Commander of the Air Force and the Military Advocate General. To read the full document
Over the course of five days of bombings, terror and uncertainty in the Gaza Strip (“a round of fighting”), Israel killed 30 Palestinians. One-third of those killed did not participate in the fighting. All 10 were killed at the exact same moment, on the first night of the fighting, 9 May 2023, at around 2:00 A.M., when Israel, entirely on its own initiative, launched an air strike on three homes where Islamic Jihad operatives lived with their families: In the attack on the home of Tareq ‘Iz a-Din (48), he and his two children, ‘Ali (8) and Mayar (10), were killed. Neighbors living in the apartment above him were also killed: Dr. Jamal Khaswan (52), his wife Mirvat (44) and their son Yusef (19). In the attack on the home of Khalil al-Bahtini (44), he, his wife Layla (43), and their daughter Hajar (4) were killed. Two neighbors, who were sisters, were also killed, Daniyah ‘Addas (19) and Iman ‘Addas (17). In the attack on the home of Jihad Ghanam (62), he and his wife Wafa (61), were killed. The three apartments were completely destroyed, along with two others. Two more apartments were damaged. This was no mistake. Reporters who attended the military’s secret press briefings after the assault said they were told the officials who ordered the strike knew other people were in the homes and that there was a high chance they would also be killed. For example, it was reported that “the IDF knew uninvolved individuals were present in the vicinity of the three Islamic Jihad commanders and that they were likely to be harmed, but these assessments were taken into account when making the decision to carry out the targeted killings.” Given that the strikes were to be launched in the middle of the night against homes where the families of Islamic Jihad operatives live, this was the logical assumption. In the past, when civilians were killed in Israeli strikes in Gaza, state officials tried to pass it off as an unexpected outcome – the unfortunate result of some sort of mishap or of bad, partial or obsolete intel, and other such claims. This time around, the masks were off and such claims were not even raised. Instead, Israel maintains the action was legal despite the foreseen results. Israel’s vain attempts to justify the killings Israeli justification No. 1: It is merely legal “collateral damage” One of the claims Israel made was that the strike was legal under international humanitarian law, as it was “proportionate”. The ten innocent people killed were, therefore, simply “collateral damage.” The IDF Spokesperson, for example, said: “We carried out a very targeted operation here with a very clear message and a quality level of extremely localized collateral damage.” Amos Yadlin, the former head of the IDF’s Intelligence Directorate, explained that “the IDF and the ISA showed, through the targeted killing itself, an impressive capacity for precision strikes, in multiple sites simultaneously, with minimum collateral damage (harming uninvolved individuals is unfortunate but proportionate), based on extremely accurate intelligence.” But this assertion is baseless. According to the principle of proportionality, a strike would be illegal if the “collateral damage” it is expected to inflict on civilians and their property is excessive in relation to the “direct and concrete” military advantage the attacking party can expect to gain from it. The application of this principle is elusive and vague, since there are no set definitions for what might be considered “excessive” harm or what “military advantage” is, nor is it clear how a balance can be struck between such disparate criteria. Given this, when setting out to examine proportionality in a specific case, dispassionate legal analysis is almost impossible, and it is inevitable that a person’s worldview will inform a given interpretation. Still, as with any other legal principle, not every interpretation can be considered legitimate and there are certainly cases in which the question of whether or not a strike was “proportionate” has an obvious answer. An interpretation entirely divorced from the purpose and spirit of international humanitarian law – such as an interpretation according to which a strike the military launched in the dead of night on family homes is proportionate – is unfounded. If this interpretation is seen as valid, it is difficult to see what point or value is left in international humanitarian law, as it nullifies those protections granted to civilians. Furthermore, the question of proportionality is relevant only when the strike itself is legal, meaning aimed at a legitimate military objective. Otherwise, the strike would be illegal, regardless of whether or not civilians and their property were harmed. A “legitimate military objective” is defined as one that makes an “effective contribution to military action”, that its total or partial destruction of a legitimate target is one that offers the attacking side a “definite military advantage.” The attack that night targeted the apartments of three Islamic Jihad operatives. Their homes, and two others belonging to neighbors, were completely destroyed. Can the homes of operatives be considered legitimate military targets according to the above definition? The answer is clearly no, and Israel never tried to claim otherwise. No official said the apartments were the site of any sort of activity that made an “effective contribution to military action” or that striking them offered Israel a “definite military advantage.” Damaging the homes was not the objective of the strike, but an incidental outcome of it, making the entire strike illegal, before even taking into account before the extensive killing it caused. Israeli justification No. 2: Islamic Jihad operatives are to blame, as they hide behind civilians Another justification Israeli officials have offered is that Islamic Jihad operatives are responsible, as they choose to hide behind civilians. Thus, for example, IDF Chief of Staff Herzl Halevy said: “If we could, we would have operated without hurting uninvolved people at all, but we must remember – terrorists act from inside the civilian population and put Gazan residents in danger.” This claim is puzzling given that the operatives were asleep in their homes with their families, not engaging in military activity “from inside the civilian population.” But more importantly, it leads to illegal outcomes. Armed organizations in Gaza do violate international humanitarian law and make no distinction between military and civilian targets. This conflation subverts the most fundamental principle of humanitarian law, namely, reducing harm to civilians as much as possible and keeping them out of combat zones. According to Israel, this conduct gives it carte blanche to do as it wishes, releasing it from the obligation to obey the law and justifying the extensive harm it inflicts on the civilian population. This interpretation automatically justifies any action Israel wishes to carry out in the Gaza Strip, no matter how horrifying the consequences, absolving it of the duty to keep harm to civilians and their property to a minimum and draining all meaning out of the principle that one party’s failure to follow the rules does not release the other from its obligation to do so. Israel is the one that chose to fire the missiles that caused death and destruction, and therefore, Israel alone bears the full responsibility for harming Palestinian civilians and their property. Any interpretation that puts the responsibility for this action and its consequences on the Palestinians must be flatly rejected. Until next time: During the rounds of fighting that have taken place in the Gaza Strip in recent years, Israel has attacked densely populated residential areas from the air, ground and sea. Thousands of Palestinians have been killed, thousands more have been injured, tens of thousands of homes have been destroyed and hundreds of thousands of people have been left homeless. Entire families have lost their whole world in the blink of an eye, unable to protect their children or themselves inside their own homes. Though patently illegal, this policy is fully backed by Israel’s political, legal and military leadership. Thus, the air strike on homes in the Gaza Strip on the night of 9 May 2023 is not an exception or an aberration. As in many other cases, it was not undertaken as an act of self-defense, in the face of clear and immediate danger that could not be averted by any other means. On the contrary: Israeli decision-makers chose the timing, the targets and the means. They consciously chose to fire missiles at homes in the middle of the night, while families were asleep in their beds, knowing it was expected that many - including small children - would be killed. The legal opinions Israel provided to itself, clearing the strike, rely on an erroneous interpretation of international humanitarian law and a morally distorted worldview, both of which must be rejected. As with any crime, there are people who are criminally liable, including the Prime Minister, the Minister of Defense, the Chief of Staff, the Commander of the Air Force and the Military Advocate General. Not long ago Israeli officials were trying to claim the moral high ground by distancing themselves from illegal acts that blatantly violate International law. Such acts were described as having a “black flag” of flagrant “illegality that pains the eye and outrages the heart" flying over them. But nowadays Israeli decision-makers no longer even bother trying to hide the fact that for them, killing innocent people, including small children, is considered legitimate, not for lack of choice, not in the face of insurmountable, immediate life-threatening danger, but as the high road, as the culmination of a reflective decision-making process, by choice, by will.
About 15 months after the round of fighting that took place in Gaza in May 2021 (operation “Guardian of the Walls”), Israel rained fire on the Gaza Strip once again, launching a new “round” of fighting (Breaking Dawn). The fighting in August 2022 lasted three days and claimed the lives of 49 Palestinians. Over the past few months, B’Tselem has spoken to several of the wounded in the May 2021 fighting, who are still struggling to rehabilitate themselves. In that round, 233 Palestinians were killed, including 38 women and 54 children. More than half took no part in the fighting. According to the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, tens of thousands lost their homes and dozens of health care, and infrastructure facilities were damaged. The wreckage of buildings and fallen utility poles blocked streets and roads, impeding the passage of ambulances and other vehicles evacuating casualties. The damage to the electricity grid and the water infrastructure also made it difficult for hospitals to operate. In their testimonies, the wounded give their personal perspective on how they and their families are coping with the challenges of rehabilitation. In addition to the personal stories, the testimonies shed light on the wider context in which the wounded from this round of fighting, and previous ones, live as they desperately try to rehabilitate. Rehabilitation after a serious injury is a tough process under any circumstances, with complex physical and mental health aspects. In Gaza, however, it is tougher still, as the number of wounded keeps growing from one round of fighting to the next, while Gaza’s health infrastructure continues to crumble as a result of the Israeli blockade. According to the World Health Organization, two out of 30 hospitals in Gaza stopped functioning during the May 2021 fighting due to damage, and the others functioned on a partial basis only. In addition, 57 out of 93 primary care clinics stopped functioning, while the rest functioned partially. Gaza’s health care system is grappling with a dire shortage of medicine, equipment and physicians, particularly doctors with up-to-date training. Despite this, as part of its blockade on Gaza, Israel continues to restrict the entry of medicine and advanced medical equipment into Gaza and denies physicians exit for training, further harming the wounded and denying them proper rehabilitation. Israel also denies many of the wounded access to medical institutions in the West Bank, just a few dozen kilometers away, to receive medical treatments they need and are not available in the Gaza Strip. According to Handicap International, there are currently about 50 non-governmental rehabilitation centers in Gaza that rely on funding from foreign foundations. They suffer from staff shortages, have trouble training staff, and are only able to offer physiotherapy and psychosocial support. Occupational rehabilitation with assistive devices, for instance, is rarely available. When it comes to prosthetic limbs, Gaza currently has only two orthopedic rehabilitation facilities, one run by the Red Cross and the other, established in March 2022, operating with Qatari funding. Israel eschews responsibility and has absolved itself of any payment of compensation for almost all injuries, citing “warfare action” through legislative enactments, leaving Palestinian claimants with infinitesimal odds of receiving monetary compensation for the harm and suffering Israel caused them. Victims of the fighting in Gaza suffer extreme financial hardship and have no access to the kind of support that can enable rehabilitation. They live in constant fear and terror of more rounds of fighting, with the feeling that at any given moment, they could once again become targets for Israeli fire. We spoke with young adults and students who were severely injured, as well as parents of severely injured children, some of whom have lost family members and some have sustained permanent disabilities. They described their daily struggles, as they cope with debilitating physical and psychological injuries. Testimonies collected by B’Tselem field researchers in the Gaza Strip: Testimony of Muhammad Abu Sakran (17) from a-Shuja’iyeh neighborhood in Gaza City, who was severely wounded by a missile that landed in the doorway of his home and killed his grandfather and his father’s cousin. He still has a motor disability in his legs and in one hand, and life-threatening shrapnel lodged in his head. He gave his testimony to B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 1 August 2022. I was badly injured in the war last year. On the last day of Ramadan, 12 May 2021, at around 8:30 P.M., I was at home with my grandfather and my father’s cousin when suddenly, a missile was fired at our house. I spent a week in the ICU at a-Shifaa Hospital. Over the past year I’ve been treated at the El Wafa Rehabilitation Hospital, on the Doctors Without Borders wing. I’ve undergone surgery on my left leg and have had physiotherapy, occupational therapy and psychotherapy. Before the injury, I had a normal life. I went to a vocational school every day from 7:00 A.M. to 2:00 P.M. I liked carpentry class and gym class, and hung out with friends a lot. After school, I’d have lunch at home and then work a little at repairing bikes, which was a hobby of mine. I also helped my grandfather plow land and tend to his crops. Since the injury, I’ve stopped going to school and stay home most of the time. I have unbearable headaches and can’t use my right hand because of a neurological problem. When I do go outside, I use crutches. I hate them and the way my body looks, deformed by the shrapnel. I get irritated easily and am aggressive with my brothers. It’s killing me mentally. My medical condition is not improving and I simply can’t do anything on my own – no sports, no cycling. Whenever I see our front door, it reminds me of the missile that hit our home and killed my grandfather and my father’s cousin, so I withdraw into myself and cry. I watch shows and movies on my phone most of the time, but nothing makes me happy anymore. I keep remembering my time in hospital after the injury and thinking about my grandfather, who would take me to work with him. My life has become a nightmare of memories and pain. Testimony of Muhammad’s father, Hisham Abu Sakran (44) That night, Muhammad was home with his grandfather, Ahmad Ibrahim Abu Sakran (64), and my paternal cousin Muhammad Nahed Abu Sakran (25). Suddenly, a missile was fired at the house and they were both killed. Muhammad, who was next to them, was severely injured. When the missile landed, I was on the second floor. I rushed downstairs and found my father dead. I saw Muhammad lying next to Muhammad Nahed, and there was a lot of blood. There was smoke and debris everywhere. I picked them both up and carried them out to a car that was there, which took us to a-Shifaa Hospital. Someone brought my father to the hospital, too, and the doctors told me he’d been killed. Later, my cousin Muhammad Nahed also died of his wounds at the hospital. I was told my son had been martyred. Someone else said he was in the ICU and needed a blood transfusion. At around 1:00 A.M., the doctors asked me for blood for Muhammad. I waited until 3:00 A.M. without knowing how he was, and then I was told he was still in a very serious condition. They told us to pray for him. When I went into the room to see him, he was lying in bed without moving, hooked up to tubes everywhere. I couldn’t process it. I left the hospital and went home to say goodbye to my father and bury him. Muhammad spent a week in the ICU, and then he lay in hospital for about two months. My son Tamer (38) stayed with him the whole time he was in hospital. He had trouble talking and couldn’t eat or drink. After two weeks on the ward, he was able to eat light food. From there, he was transferred to El Wafa Rehabilitation Hospital and put on the Doctors Without Borders wing for two months, where he had physiotherapy and occupational therapy. He was barely able to move at that point – he had trouble moving his right hand because of neurological damage, and had fractures in his left leg and shrapnel in the right. He got a lot of stitches and they put platinum in his legs. He was in constant pain and I was there most of the time, to help him as much as I could. After about two months at El Wafa Hospital, his platinum implants were corrected at a-Shifaa Hospital. Then I took him home, where his mental health just kept deteriorating. He stopped eating and drinking almost entirely again, and got angry and yelled most of the time. We went to Doctors Without Borders again, and they gave him mental health support. He also continued with physiotherapy there, and in May 2022 the outer platinum was removed from his left leg and the bone was treated. Now he uses crutches. Muhammad’s body is full of shrapnel and he’s still very weak. The doctors say he’s in danger because of a piece of shrapnel that’s stuck in his head, close to his brain. We’ve been warned he must never bang his head, because the shrapnel might move and damage his brain. Even sneezing could cause it. Until he was injured, Muhammad studied carpentry at the vocational school in Gaza. He hasn’t gone back to school since then and stays home most of the time. He’s very anxious. Testimony of ‘Abdallah Islim (23) from Gaza City, who was severely injured by a missile Israel fired at a car near which he was standing. Six people were killed in the attack, including a friend of his and a relative of the friend. He gave his testimony to B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-’Azayzeh on 18 May 2022. On 12 May 2021, at around 10:30 A.M., I was walking with ‘Abed al-Ghazali (28) to the restaurant we worked at on al-Wihada Street, in order to open up despite the bombings. When we got to al-Mughrabi Street, we ran into ‘Abed’s cousin, Nader al-Ghazali (46), outside the sewing shop he works at and chatted with him for a while. Just then, a car stopped a few meters away from us. I caught a glimpse of three passengers inside and suddenly, there was a strong blast. ‘Abed flew up in the air and hit the steel door of a store near us. I stayed put. There was blood everywhere and I felt very dizzy. I moved a few meters away and I realized I’d been hit by shrapnel along the entire rightside of my body. I fell down and recited the Shahadatein [“There is no God but Allah, Muhammad is Allah’s prophet”]. About three minutes later, there was another bombing. I felt I’d been hit in the stomach. I got up and walked a few meters to a nearby drugstore, and asked the pharmacist to help me check on ‘Abed. I was bleeding from the right eye and my clothes were soaked in blood, so he got scared and called out for help. A few young guys who were there drove me to a-Shifaa Hospital in their car. After three days in hospital, I was told ‘Abed and his cousin Nader had been martyred. I stayed in hospital for 15 days. In July 2021, I had abdominal surgery, but they couldn’t get all the shrapnel out and I’m still in pain. I also had chest surgery and some of my bones were removed. Since then, I’ve also been suffering from shortness of breath and chest pain, and I have trouble sleeping at night. I’ve have hearing loss in my right ear and the retina in my right eye is damaged. I don’t go out of the house much. I couldn’t go back to the restaurant, so I’ve lost my livelihood. I was the sole provider for my family, and now the whole family is suffering. Before that, we wanted for nothing. We ate well and I provided for everyone’s needs. I also paid university tuition for my sister Hanadi (24) and my brother Shadi (19), but they only managed to finish one semester and then I couldn’t cover their tuition anymore because of the injury. Before my injury, I managed to save up about 2,000 USD to buy a transit car for extra income, but I’ve spent almost all my savings on my medical care. Ever since I’ve been out of work, our situation has been getting worse. I don’t know how we’ll be able to go on. Testimony of Mu’awiyah al-Wahidi (43), a father of two from a-Zeitun neighborhood in Gaza City, who lost his right leg when a missile fired by Israel landed near his workplace. He gave his testimony to B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 18 May 2022. On 12 May 2021, at around 11:00 A.M., I was in my barbershop when suddenly, I heard a loud explosion outside. Right after that, Nader al-Ghazali (46) came into the barbershop in a panic, saying: “Help, Mu’awiyah! I can’t breathe!” He was in a terrible state. I took him outside and we walked about 30 meters from the barbershop. He was bleeding from the mouth, and then he fell down. I tried to give him first aid. I looked at the street and saw at least four martyrs lying near the car that had exploded. I recognized Sa’id al-Hittu and his wife Maysoun al-Hittu among the dead. Three minutes later, another missile landed right next to us and Nader was instantly killed. My right leg was severed and didn’t stop bleeding for 20 minutes. Everyone around me was in a panic – we were all scared there would be another airstrike. People gathered round me and called an ambulance. When it came, the paramedics took me and left all the martyrs on the street. I was taken to a-Shifaa Hospital and must have blacked out on the way. At the hospital, I was taken into surgery and my right leg was amputated. I later found out they’d planned to amputate my left leg, too. It was in a bad state, but they decided to treat afterwards. After a week in hospital, I was transferred to the care of Doctors Without Borders, which treats injured people and also operates at al-Awda Hospital in the northern Gaza Strip. I remember hearing the Israeli airstrikes on the way. I was discharged after about 40 days there, with an amputated leg and a lot of problems in the other leg. That was when my ordeal really started, and it’s been going on for a year now. To this day, my whole body is in pain. Twice a week, a team from the National Physiotherapy Authority visits me at home. My left leg is barely there and I need a hydraulic prosthetic, which should carry some of my body weight and make it easier for me to walk. But at Hamad Hospital in Gaza they told me they wouldn’t be able to help me get it, because Israel isn’t allowing prosthetic parts into Gaza. There’s a special wheelchair, too, that could make it easier for me to work, but it costs about 1,500 US dollars and I can’t afford it right now. One of the charities gave me an electric wheelchair that helps me move around outside, and sometimes I get donations from people. I live on the fourth floor without an elevator and it’s very difficult for me to go up and down the stairs, so I stay home most of the time. I feel like a burden to my family. Because I can’t help around the house anymore, my wife is also overworked and she’s started to suffer from a herniated disc in her back. My helplessness is affecting the entire household. My two sons, Sadim (8) and Siraj, (11), were top students. Since my injury, their grades have gone down. They see me so upset that I break things at home. It’s been a year since my injury and it’s still really hard to get out of this mental state. I became a victim of the Israeli army while I was at work, even though I was no threat to Israel in any way. Sometimes, when I go to the barbershop, I see the burning car and the martyrs lying on the ground in my mind’s eye. I remember how I picked up the martyr Nader al-Ghazali and ran from the other missile. It makes me cry and choke up every time. Once in a while, I try to go to the barbershop, but when a client comes in and asks for a haircut, I can’t always do it. All I want is to get the barbershop running well again and go back to work. I worked as a barber for 25 years and was the only breadwinner in our house. Despite my handicap, I get no disability pension from anyone. I feel like I’ve gone from business owner to beggar. Testimony of Ishaq Fayad (51), a father of six from Beit Hanoun in the northern Gaza Strip, who lost his right leg when a missile hit his home directly. He gave his testimony to B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-’Azayzeh on 19 May 2022. On the night of 14 May 2021, we were hosting about 60 relatives, half of them children, in our house on al-Ba’ li Street in central Beit Hanoun because our area was considered safer. Shortly before midnight, we heard explosions that kept getting closer to us. When they grew louder, everyone started shouting in fear. I tried to reassure them and told them they were safe. I went up to the top floor. When I got there, while I was still in an open-air part of the stairwell, there was a big explosion that threw me at least three meters away. A few seconds later, there was another explosio n from a missile that hit the neighbors’ house. Rubble from the walls and roof of our building was scattered everywhere. Only the pillars stayed standing. My right leg was nearly cut off. It was still connected by a piece of skin and an artery, and I tried to pull it towards me. Shrapnel from the missile had hit my left leg and it didn’t stop bleeding. I crawled down the stairs to the ground floor. When I got to the street, I saw a lot of people running in a panic, looking for family members. I was dizzy. My son Ibrahim (22) and his wife Ghazal (22) carried me to the house of our neighbors, the a-Z’anin family, where they tied my leg to stop the bleeding. A few minutes later, they took me outside so an ambulance could take me to hospital. About 15 minutes later, an ambulance arrived and took me to hospital in Beit Hanoun. There, I was bandaged, and then I was transferred to the Indonesian Hospital in Beit Lahiya. My son Jasser (23) went with me. I must have blacked out along the way. I woke up the following afternoon in hospital. Four days later, I was transferred to Nasr Hospital in Cairo, where I had about ten operations on my legs. I was also fitted with a fixator on my right leg. I was in terrible pain and lost a lot of weight during that time. I looked like a skeleton and was barely recognizable. My mental health was very poor. I’m lucky my wife Warda was there with me the whole time, supporting me. I stayed in hospital in Cairo for nine months, and on 13 March 2022 went back to Gaza. I continued treatment with Doctors Without Borders at al-Awda Hospital. The doctor there told me my right leg had to be amputated. I was shocked the situation was so bad. About three weeks later, my leg was amputated. I had two more operations on my leg, and I’m still having physiotherapy. I’ve also developed diabetes and hypertension but unfortunately, government drug stores in the Gaza Strip don’t carry the medicine I need, so I have to pay for it out of pocket. For instance, the pill I take for leg infections, Flucoral, costs 13 shekels (~4 USD) a pill. Since my leg was amputated, I’ve barely left the house, because I live on the second floor without an elevator. I’ve already fallen down the stairs. Before the injury, I was always on the go because I trade in sheep and goats. I’m not used to being unemployed and sitting at home. At least close friends come over to keep me company sometimes. Testimony of Majd al-’Ajleh (21), a law student from a-Shuja’iyeh neighborhood in Gaza City, who was injured by a missile fired by Israel when he was standing near his home. Since then, he has had a motor disability and speech difficulties. He gave his testimony to B’Tselem field researcher Muhammad Sabah on 26 May 2022. On Sunday, 15 May 2021, I set out from my house in a-Shuja’iyeh neighborhood. When I was still close by, at around 1:00 P.M., a missile fired from an airplane landed near me. Three of my cousins were killed in the strike: Yihya al-'Ajleh (24), Seif a-Din Abu al-'Ata (18), who had fled from his home in the eastern part of the neighborhood and was killed near his uncle’s home, and Muhammad Bhar (17), who was killed in the doorway to his brother’s home. My brother Muhammad and I were severely injured. I woke up at a-Shifaa Hospital after I was unconscious for 25 days. During that time, I had head surgery because of a fracture in my skull and abdominal surgery because of shrapnel that entered it and caused hemorrhaging and damage to the intestine. On 11 June 2021, I received a permit to go to al-Ahali Hospital in Hebron, where I had surgery on my right leg and arm. I was discharged from there about six months later, on 5 December 2021, and returned to Gaza unable to walk or talk. The head injury paralyzed the right side of my body, which is why I couldn’t move my right leg and arm. They’re both still in a cast. I still need a bone transplant on the left side of my skull. I’ve had months of physiotherapy and speech therapy at the ICRC hospital in Gaza, but I still have a hard time talking and walking. I’m using crutches until I get a prosthetic fitted at Hamad Hospital. My life has changed since the injury. My arm and leg are paralyzed, and I hate being treated like a disabled person and seen as handicapped. I need help most of the time because of the paralysis, and I’ve come to realize my life won’t go back to what it was. I see a psychotherapist to help with the mental challenges. Until the injury, everything was normal – I was a third-year law student at al-Azhar University in Gaza. But I haven’t gone back to school because of my condition. My dream was to go into law so I could help people exercise their rights. My mother also wanted her eldest son to be educated and successful. I’m worn out asking my mother and brothers for help all the time. They help me get dressed, eat, drink and go to the bathroom, and also come with me to all the treatments. I can’t move around freely, or even just go outside or hang out with friends. I’ve lost some of my close friends, who feel I’ve become a burden. I go from one treatment to another, from one hospital to another, hoping this suffering won’t last too much longer. Testimony of Lina al-Matrabi’i (27), a mother of three from a-Sabra neighborhood in Gaza City, whose five-year-old daughter Sarah was severely injured when a missile fired by Israel penetrated the ceiling of her home. She gave her testimony to B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 22 May 2022. On 14 May 2021, at around 8:30 P.M., my husband Zaher (43) was sitting in the living room and I was feeding five-year-old Sarah when suddenly, without any warning, a missile fell through the ceiling of the room. The apartment above us had been bombed. Sarah and I were covered in debris and I was afraid my husband had been killed, and that our house was marked as a target by the Israeli army. Sarah kept crying under the rubble. I managed to pull her towards me, and then my husband came and got her. I was about five months pregnant and shrapnel from the missile penetrated my belly, back and right arm. I put on my prayer clothes and we took Sarah outside to look for an ambulance or another car to evacuate her. She fainted several minutes later, and only then an ambulance came and took her to a-Shifaa Hospital. She was put in the ICU. She had damage to the skull that caused meningitis, an open fracture to the spine, and shrapnel that penetrated her spine and paralyzed both legs. The doctors told us her injuries were very dangerous and asked us to pray for her. Sarah woke up three days later, and they only let us see her after six days. Then she was transferred to the pediatric surgery ward at a-Shifaa Hospital for four days. She was in really bad shape and couldn’t see or talk. Ten days later, on 24 May 2021, we got permission to travel to Jordan, and we traveled through Erez Crossing to al-Hussein Hospital. There, she had more than ten operations on her back, which included rehabilitating her spinal cord and fixing it in place with screws. She also had skin graft surgery on her legs. She was in a terrible emotional state and barely ate. She kept bursting into tears or shouting, and had nightmares. She had psychotherapy there, too. About four months later, on 23 September 2021, I gave birth to my little boy, ‘Abdallah, in a C-section at the hospital in Jordan. It was one of the hardest times of my life, recovering from the C-section while Sarah was going through rehabilitation. About six months after Sarah’s injury, on 17 November 2021, we went back to Gaza. She was still in pretty bad shape. She couldn’t walk and was confined to a wheelchair. To this day, her condition hasn’t improved. The doctors at Hamad Hospital in Gaza referred her to physiotherapy and I take her every week or two. Sarah is also incontinent, so I drain her urine with a catheter and change her diapers regularly. Because my husband is out of work, we can’t give Sarah what she needs, so we sometimes get diapers donated by charities and aid organizations. We’re renting an apartment for 500 shekels (~USD 153) a month on the first floor of a building with an elevator, so it’s accessible for Sarah. Although Sarah’s condition isn’t stable yet and she’s tired most of the time, I take her to preschool when she’s not getting treatment. Thank God, she loves her friends and they help her and never leave her on her own. She doesn’t really understand the situation, and sometimes asks why the army bombed her and why she’s still sick. I reply that she’s strong. I have to hold her when she bathes, and I also dress her. It’s very hard and tiring, but even though it’s exhausting, I want her to stay as active as possible – so maybe it will take her mind off her disability for a little while. When she’s home, she crawls on the floor or sits on the couch or in the wheelchair. She’s still afraid all the time that something bad is about to happen, and she asks us not to mention the injury or the war. Sometimes, when she looks in the mirror, she asks me to cover her legs because it’s hard for her to see them. Every once in a while, I insist she let herself look at the injury, because maybe it will make it easier for her to accept the situation. She gets spooked by loud noises and is too afraid to stay home alone, so I take her a lot to the beach boardwalk, so she can let go and relax. What did Sarah do wrong? All she was doing was sitting at home having dinner. They bombed us without warning and robbed my daughter of every beautiful thing she had in her life. My heart is broken, but I try to stay strong around Sarah and hide my pain from her. Now she needs to be reassessed at a hospital outside Gaza, because the resources she needs aren’t available here. She’ll only be able to get better care outside Gaza, in hospitals in Arab countries, in Israel or in Europe. Testimony of Hibah al-Bahtiti (32), a mother of six from a-Shuja’iyeh neighborhood in Gaza City, whose six-year-old daughter Farah was severely wounded outside her house by a missile fired by Israel. She gave her testimony to B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 19 May 2022. On 12.5.21, the last day of Ramadan, at around 2:00 P.M., I sent my youngest daughter, Farah, out of the house to buy some things nearby. My sister-in-law Siham (30) was cleaning the stairs at the time. She was worried about Farah and called out to her to come back. Suddenly, there was a strong explosion outside. All the glass from the windows and stones from the building flew through the air. Siham yelled: “Farah’s been martyred!” I ran outside and saw a car going up in flames. Inside it was a martyr I didn’t recognize. There were a lot of injured people scattered near the car. Farah was lying on the ground, unconscious, quite close to our house. She was bleeding all over. I went into shock and was afraid she’d been martyred. It crushed me. Her aunt Wafa (23) yelled that Farah was still alive and started looking for a car to get her out of there. She was taken to the ICU at a-Shifaa Hospital, where they said she was very severely injured. Half an hour after Farah was evacuated, another ambulance came and took away Siham, who’d been injured by shrapnel in her left foot. Farah was unconscious for 12 days. That’s a very long time, and I was afraid she wouldn’t wake up. They only allowed her one visitor in the ICU, so my husband Rif’at (39) went. He said she was in very bad shape and that her left leg and arm were completely shattered. I could do nothing for her but pray. Farah had several operations, including a colectomy, and was fitted with platinum implants in her arm and leg. When she came out of the ICU, she didn’t talk and couldn’t hear well. She didn’t recognize any of us and for two weeks, I thought she had gone deaf or lost the ability to speak. I brought her brothers, cousins and friends to see her, and she started responding a little more. We filed several applications for a permit to go to a hospital in Jordan. We only got a permit to leave via Erez Crossing on 3 June 2021. I took her through Erez Crossing to the rehabilitation hospital in Jordan. The back of her head was injured and she had shrapnel in her lungs, abdomen, left arm, feet, left eye and right ear. The shrapnel in her left hand caused neurological damage to the wrist, and the shrapnel that penetrated her feet damaged the tendons. She also lost a lot of skin, and had skin grafts in her abdomen and left leg. She had a lot of other testing and imaging done at the hospital. We returned to Gaza on 5 September 2021, after three months in Jordan, and continued Farah’s rehabilitation at the Jordanian Hospital in Gaza. When her condition improved, she started walking. Now, a physiotherapist from the National Rehabilitation Association comes to our house. She can hold light objects in her right hand, but she still can’t control the left one. Farah is supposed to wear compression bandages that compress the skin to prevent swelling but they’re very tight, so sometimes she takes them off. She needs a skin graft and tendon extension. At the end of the month, we’re going to see a limb specialist. Whenever Farah sees her body in the mirror, she cries and asks why the Israelis did this to her. To this day, whenever she hears airplanes, she’s worried they’re coming to bomb her. I try to reassure her, telling her the war is over and we’re all with her. She has nightmares all the time and is scared of little things, such as water in the shower or doctors and injections. Since the injury she’s had trouble controlling her bladder, so I keep her in a diaper. Until recently, she wasn’t prepared to sleep alone and I slept next to her. Now she sleeps next to her sister, though she’s still scared and can’t relax. When she’s not getting treatments or going for tests, she goes to preschool, but she finds it hard to deal with the kids’ questions about her condition. I keep worrying one of the kids will unintentionally hurt her feelings. We got help from a respectable lady, who took Farah under her wing and covered our trip to Jordan and all our expenses there. But now, our financial situation is very bad. We are crowded into one house with 28 family members. We live only off what my husband makes from his fruit stand, which isn’t enough to provide for our six children: the twins Follah and Fuad (15), Muhammad (13), Ahmad (11), Yusef (8) and Farah (6).
