After about an hour, at around 3:00 P.M., I went over to the jeep. There was a soldier with a badge on his shoulder who I think was the commander. He was tall, blond and thin with fair skin. My Hebrew is good. I told him I had to cross the roadblock to get to my sister’s engagement party. He refused. I told him it was my right to cross the roadblock and he said: “No, you have no right.” I told him: “You can run a security check and inspect my ID, but you can’t stop me from crossing.”
The commander replied angrily and demanded my ID. He took it from me and pulled me by my collar. He swore and said: “Son of a bitch.” I answered: “You’re a son of a bitch.” Then he dragged me about ten meters to where the other soldiers were standing and began hitting me on the mouth. He hit me all over my body with his hands and his rifle butt. Two soldiers joined him. I remember exactly what they looked like and could identify them. Both were blond and short, with a medium build and a fair complexion. One had freckles. They hit me in the face, body and legs right in front of the people waiting at the roadblock, and in front of camera crews from Al-Jazeera and Kuwaiti TV. I tried to fend off the blows with my hands and shouted at the soldiers. While they were beating me, the soldiers swore and called me “bastard” and “son of a bitch”.
After they beat me relentlessly for 10 minutes, the people standing at the roadblock started yelling at them and shouting, “Oh God, Oh God”. Some of them started throwing stones at the soldiers. I saw two women, one of them elderly, go up to the soldiers. The soldiers threatened them with their guns, but they weren’t deterred and shouted at the soldiers to let me go and stop hitting me. The soldiers kicked them both and drove them away, threatening them with their guns. Then they went on beating me. The men at the roadblock kept shouting at the soldiers and tried to go up to them, but the commander and another soldier started chasing them. The other two soldiers kept on beating me. The freckled soldier told me: “The commander has gone and now we’re going to beat you to death.” I told him I wasn’t scared. They kept hitting me with their guns, especially around my waist. Then the freckled soldier hit me four times in my right lower jaw with the barrel of his rifle. I felt the jaw swell up and go numb. A lot of blood came out of my mouth. Meanwhile, the commander and soldier returned, having removed the people from the roadblock.
Then four military jeeps arrived. One soldier blindfolded me with a piece of cloth and tied my hands in front of me with zip ties. Two soldiers grabbed me, one on each side, picked me up and tossed me into one of the jeeps. My right shoulder smashed against the side of the jeep and I fell inside, landing on my right side. I hit the floor with my shoulder and my right hip. When I was inside, the soldiers punched me in the back.
Then one of the soldiers grabbed me by the arms and sat me down on the back seat. He took off my blindfold and started washing the blood from my face. I remember that soldier. He was tall and full-bodied. His face was red. He sounded like he was trying to calm me down and said to: “Don’t be angry, never mind, be a man. Not all Jews are like that, there are good ones and bad ones.” He wiped the blood off my face and then put the blindfold back on my eyes. Then he said: “Here, the checkpoint commander has arrived. I’ll explain to him what happened to you and ask him to let you go so you can attend your sister’s wedding.” I could see him through the blindfold. He got off the jeep and took the commander aside. They stood about a meter from the jeep and I could hear them. I heard him tell the commander that I was trying to get to my sister’s wedding and that the soldiers had beaten me.
I didn’t hear the entire conversation and I don’t remember everything. I remember the soldier telling the commander: “Please don’t embarrass me in front of the other soldiers, don’t tell them that I told you what happened.” I heard the commander say: “Okay, now we’ll take him in the jeep.” The soldier returned to the jeep and loosened my blindfold. He sat with two other soldiers in the back and the commander who had beaten me was in the front seat. The jeep set off, and during the ride the soldiers didn’t hurt me.
Around 4:30 P.M. we arrived at the Ofer military camp, which is four or five kilometers from the roadblock. I was in very bad shape. My body was aching all over and especially my right jaw, which was also very swollen. I felt nauseous and was still bleeding from the mouth, although less than before.
When we arrived, the soldiers took me out of the jeep and sat me in a chair in front of one of the rooms. About 15 minutes later, they took me into the room and removed the blindfold. I saw a soldier sitting in the room. He didn’t tell me who he was, but I guess he was a military doctor because he checked my mouth, jaw and the rest of my body. The room was full of ammunition, crates and weapons, and didn’t look at all like a medical clinic. The commander who had hit me was also in the room. After the examination, the soldier told me: “You have fractures in your face, and I can’t leave you here under my responsibility. You have to be sent back or taken to hospital.” I told him I wanted to talk to a senior commander and file a complaint. The doctor said it was my right to do so, but nothing happened.
The doctor talked to the commander who hit me. I heard the commander ask for me to be taken out and then a soldier came in and took me back to the chair outside the room. There were several soldiers walking around, but no one was guarding me. I heard part of the conversation going on inside the room. The doctor asked the commander to release me because there was no medical equipment at the camp and I had to have an X-ray done at a hospital. Then the doctor came out of the room and said to me: “I’m sorry, there’s no X-ray equipment here and you need to get to a hospital” and left.
I stayed sitting on the chair until 7:00 P.M. During all that time, I was given no food and no medical treatment. I was only given something to drink. At around seven o’clock, the commander blindfolded me and then they took me back to the jeep and dropped me off at the Deir Ibzi’ checkpoint, after removing the blindfold and handcuffs and giving me back my ID card. I managed to get to my village, Beit Sira, and from there I went to the clinic in the village of Khirbet al-Misbah. The doctor on duty gave me an injection and painkillers and said I should get to a hospital to have X-rays, because he didn’t have the proper medical equipment.
Because of the difficulty crossing checkpoints and because it was late, I couldn’t get to a hospital that evening and went back home. The next morning, I wanted to go to Ramallah Hospital, but when I got to the ‘Ein Ariq Checkpoint, the same soldiers who had beaten me were there. I told them I was going to the hospital, but they wouldn’t let me through. The commander who had beaten me said: “Get out of here or I’ll shoot you.” I tried to insist and told him my medical condition required a hospital, but he just said: “You can go and die at home.” I had no choice but to go home, even though the pain in my jaw was terrible.
On Thursday, 5 June 2003, I heard that the checkpoints were open, so I decided to try to get to hospital again. When I reached the ‘Ein Ariq Checkpoint, there were other soldiers there letting people through on foot. I reached the hospital, where I was examined and X-rayed. The doctors told me I had bruising and a fracture in my lower right jaw and that I had to have surgery on my jaw. They scheduled the surgery for next week, on 11 June 2003.
A father of four, at the ‘Ein Ariq roadblock in Ramallah District, 2 June 2003
His testimony was given to Iyad Hadad on 8 June 2003
On Monday afternoon, 2 June 2003, I left work at a-Sheikh Zayed Hospital in Ramallah and set out home, to the village of Beit Sira, which is 30 kilometers from Ramallah. Around 2:00 P.M. I reached the entrance to the village of ‘Ein Ariq and saw dozens of Palestinians standing a few meters away from a dirt mound roadblock. There was a military jeep next to the roadblock, and five soldiers nearby. They weren’t letting people cross the roadblock, not even on foot. I joined the people waiting at the roadblock, hoping the soldiers would let us through. The soldiers hardly let anyone pass, and I understood from the people waiting there that they let only the residents of ‘Ein Ariq through. Some people tried to get closer to the roadblock, but the soldiers shouted at them to go back and threatened them with weapons.
At the time, some media crews came, and the story was reported on several networks. The whole world saw it. B’Tselem also filed a complaint on my behalf, but it was all in vain. Nothing came of it. The attackers remained free and perhaps even assaulted other people because they knew they were free to harm Palestinians.
After the incident I underwent jaw surgery and my jaw was closed for 60 days. I got my food through a straw and couldn’t move my head. I couldn’t speak or laugh and could only communicate in writing. I couldn’t wait to have the splint removed, but even after it was taken off, I had to undergo rehabilitation for two months and only later, gradually, my condition improved. I had more treatments and physical therapy until I was completely healed. The rib fractures took a few months to heal because they couldn’t be put in a cast. Every movement I made hurt immensely. Because of the pain, I also had a hard time sleeping during that period. For four or five months after the attack, I was confined to the house and was in a very bad state of mind.
The incident left me with a kind of paranoia. I’m afraid of anything to do with the Israeli military or police. I avoid roadblocks and police vehicles whenever I see them. It’s hard to move around like that, and was especially difficult in the years following incident, when the army was everywhere. It was very difficult for me to get to work then, because the army blocked all the roads with dirt mounds and checkpoints. This continued until 2006, when things calmed down a bit.
The assault was a turning point in my life. At the time, I had money I’d saved to build a separate house for my family, so we could leave the small room we lived in at my parents’ place. We were all crowded into one room with a kitchen and bathroom. But after the attack, I couldn’t do it, I didn’t have the strength. I only managed to fulfill my dream and move into a separate home of my own two years ago.
Sadly, my wife Maysoun died at 40, on 5 June 2017. She didn’t get the chance to celebrate the fulfillment of our dream. She died without seeing our children grow up, graduate university start their own families and succeed in life. Like every mother in the world, she dreamed of having her own grandchildren to pamper and play with. She didn’t even get the chance to move into our house, which she had dreamed of.
I used to be in charge of security at a hospital and recently started working as a consultant at the office of the mayor of Ramallah. But life isn’t measured by social status or money. You can’t fix feelings. Even if I have all the money in the world, I’ll never forget what happened. I will always remember how those soldiers hit me and humiliated me before dozens of people and TV cameras. Even my kids felt broken and humiliated. How could they not? With their father, who is their role model, beaten, humiliated and helpless.
At the time, my son Muhammad, who was six, broke into tears whenever he looked at me. The sight scared him because my face was swollen. He kept asking me: “Why did the Jews hit you, father? Why didn’t you hit them back? Why didn’t you tell Abu Amar [Yasser Arafat] to put them in jail? How did you let them do that to you?” Every time I heard those words, it was like being stabbed with a knife.
Amin Hamdan, now 47, from Beit Sira, Ramallah District, spoke again with B’Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad this year and described what he went through after their last meeting, immediately after he was beaten:
When you documented the incident, everything was still fresh. It had barely been five days since it happened. The soldiers caused a fracture to my right jaw and injuries to my mouth, as well as bruising and dry injuries all over my body. Later it turned out they’d also broken three of my ribs. For over a week, my face was so swollen it was hard to recognize me.
The Central Command Advocate’s Office contacted you about receiving medical documents in August 2003 and has received no reply to date.
Letter to B’Tselem dated 15 May 2007 from Lieut. Itai Asael, Assistant to the Chief Military Prosecutor
(B’Tselem had sent the Central Command Advocate’s Office the required medical documents on 10 September 2003, and re-sent them again further to this letter.)
The case has not been located in our office.
Letter to B’Tselem dated 23 August 2009 from Captain Itai Asael, Chief Military Prosecutor