The young prisoners of the West Bank

Amid continuing violence, Israel has jailed more than 5,000 Palestinian youths

By John Murphy

Sun Foreign Reporter

November 18, 2007

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OFER MILITARY BASE, Bank West - It is just after 9 a.m., and an Israeli military court, deep inside this remote West Bank army base, is being called into session.

A soldier slams his palm on a table, bringing the courtroom to order for the case of a Palestinian charged with attempted murder. A pair of Israeli security guards enters with the defendant between them. A slight figure with large almond eyes and her hair wrapped in a headscarf, she shuffles in, her sneaker-covered feet bound in rattling leg chains.

Her name is Ayat Dababsa.

She is 15 years old.

In January, Ayat was arrested at a checkpoint in Hebron after Israeli soldiers discovered a kitchen knife in her school bag. She had no history of violence or trouble, and did not injure, or threaten, anyone. But interrogators took her into custody and hours later -- outside the presence of a parent or lawyer -- she signed a confession stating she had planned to use the knife to kill an Israeli soldier. The confession was written in Hebrew, a language she doesn't read.

Since then, she has been held without bail. If convicted, the ninth-grader will likely receive a prison sentence of five years or longer.

To Israeli authorities, Ayat's case typifies a generation of Palestinian youth more radical than their parents, less optimistic about chances for peace, and more ready to use force to achieve a Palestinian state. Since violence broke out in 2000, children as young as 11 have helped fill the ranks of Palestinian militant groups, throwing stones and Molotov cocktails, transporting explosives and weapons, and carrying out suicide bombings, according to a recent report by Israel's Shin Bet security service.

But to human rights organizations, Ayat is one of an alarming number of Palestinian youths being jailed under a largely concealed military justice system. During the last seven years of violence in the Middle East, Israel has put more than 5,000 Palestinian children behind bars, human rights groups and Palestinian officials estimate.

Little is known about these young prisoners. Israeli military, security and prison officials could not provide figures on the number of Palestinians younger than age 18 who have been detained since 2000. Nor would they allow visits with those behind bars. Advocacy groups and Palestinian officials acknowledge that their estimates of Palestinian child detainees are often incomplete, and they complain that access to court records and hearings is severely limited.

Still, international and Israeli human rights groups -- such as Defense for Children International, Machsom Watch and Yesh Din -- have grown deeply concerned by what they have observed of Israel's system of justice for Palestinian juveniles, a system that they say often denies minors their most basic rights.

Juveniles are protected by international agreements -- of which Israel is a signatory -- according them the rights of due process, protection from torture and mistreatment, and timely access to legal counsel. Detention is considered a punishment of last resort.

But the Israeli military justice system -- where only Palestinians are tried -- impedes meetings between young defendants and their families and attorneys, keeps minors behind bars for excessive periods, and routinely denies them bail, according to recent studies by Israeli and international human rights groups.

Palestinian juveniles facing charges in Israel's military courts -- unlike juveniles in most of the developed world, including the U.S. and Israel -- are handled by judges, police and probation officers with no training in juvenile justice. From arrest to sentencing to often lengthy prison terms, minors are effectively treated as adults, in violation of such agreements as the U.N. Convention on the Rights of the Child and the Geneva Conventions, critics say.

In fact, in the military court, a Palestinian child is even defined differently. The court considers any Palestinian 16 or older an adult -- a departure from the international standard of 18 that Israel applies to its own citizens -- subjecting them to more severe sentences. Those under 16 can be eligible for lighter sentences, the only concession the system accords minors.

Israel, however, says these international laws don't apply in the occupied territories.

Michael Sfard, an Israeli human rights attorney, says the system's treatment of minors amounts to a "gross violation of the rights of the child" as outlined by international conventions of the United Nations. The fact that an accused is a minor is seldom mentioned in these courts, he says. "These children are being tried as adults, for all practical purposes."

Israeli military prosecutors argue that Ayat's confession is enough for the judge to find her guilty. The attorneys defending Ayat, meanwhile, believe she had no intention of harming anyone when she carried a knife to a checkpoint, but likely got herself arrested on purpose to escape stresses at home -- a common practice among young Palestinian girls, defense attorneys say.

Guilty or not, critics say, a 15-year-old like Ayat should have the same rights and privileges Israeli civilian courts offer Israeli youths -- who are protected during police investigations, tried in juvenile courts and provided rehabilitation programs.

"She is perceived as a threat to the security of the state of Israel -- she is not seen as a juvenile who may have her own problems," says Rasha Shammas, an advocacy officer for child prisoners for Defense for Children International, an independent human rights organization that defends 60 percent of the juvenile cases brought by the Israeli military.

"Put yourself in my situation," says Mohammad Dababsa, Ayat's father, who sat in the rear of the courtroom, forbidden under court rules to speak to or approach his daughter. "You see your daughter who you miss and love. She is cuffed on her hands and feet, and soldiers are guarding her, and you can't even talk to her."

"She is a kid," he adds, "How can a kid be a threat to Israel?"

A threat to the state

Unfortunately, Israeli officials respond, Palestinian children are increasingly a grave threat to the Jewish state.

In 2002, a 13-year-old boy from Tulkarm in the West Bank was stopped by Israeli authorities after allegedly being recruited by Islamic Jihad to be a suicide bomber. The same year, a 17-year-old suicide bomber in Jerusalem killed seven Israelis at a hitchhiking stop. And in 2004, a 16-year-old boy blew himself up at a crowded fruit and vegetable market in Tel Aviv, killing three Israelis and injuring dozens more.

Nearly every week, the Israeli military issues reports of Palestinian teens caught with explosives and weapons at checkpoints throughout the West Bank.

Putting teens behind bars is "regrettable," Israeli officials say, but necessary to protect their citizens.

"Ultimately, that is part of the reality that has been forced upon us because of the deliberate strategy by extremist jihadist groups to exploit young people and to manipulate them in a terrorist war against us," said Mark Regev, spokesman for Israel's Foreign Ministry.

Still, human rights organizations, Palestinian parents and defense lawyers say that far too many minors are put behind bars in the name of security.

The Palestinian Authority says Israel has detained more than 6,500 Palestinians younger than 18, although officials are unable to provide records or explain how they reached that figure.

The Geneva-based Defense for Children, a nongovernmental organization dedicated to children's rights, has documented more than 5,200 cases of such arrests and detentions since 2000. Based on cases it has handled and prisoner and arrest records, the group estimates that more than 330 Palestinian minors were arrested in 2000, and approximately 650 to 750 each year since.

Israeli officials could not provide a breakdown of juvenile cases over the years but did say they are now keeping 300 Palestinians younger than 18 behind bars.

According to Defense for Children records, one-third to three-quarters of all juveniles are detained for throwing stones and lesser offenses such as membership in banned organization -- a charge that can stem from such nonviolent actions as setting up chairs for meetings or putting up posters for militant groups such as Hamas or Islamic Jihad.

The sentences have grown more severe over time, according to the group's records and defense attorneys. Before 2000, a Palestinian juvenile arrested for throwing stones at Israeli soldiers or Israeli cars -- one of the most common charges -- would spend one to three months in prison, according to a 2006 report by Defense for Children. Today, the typical sentence is six months, records show.

Concerned by the recent trend in tougher sentences, a group of Palestinian and Israeli lawyers launched a campaign Sept. 1 to try to paralyze the military courts. Since then, a majority of defense attorneys have stopped bargaining with prosecutors, forcing all cases to go to trial -- a timely and costly process.

"We want them to feel they are handicapped," said Ismaeil Al Taweil, one of the Palestinian defense attorneys leading the protest.

In response, Israeli military sources defended the harsher sentences, saying they are "in the interest of preserving public peace and order, and preventing felonies by deterring criminals from committing crimes."

That approach seemed to work for a Nablus teen named Tamir Khwaireh. At age 15, Tamir volunteered to become a suicide bomber for Islamic Jihad but was arrested by Israeli forces after his plans were exposed by an informant. He was sentenced to three years in prison and was released in August.

Now 19, Khwaireh looks back on his plans as a mistake.

"I was 15. I didn't know what it meant to lose my life," he said.

Prison was miserable, he said. The cells were small, the food was bad and the conditions unhealthy, he says. But he left with a desire to move on with his life, finish his high school degree and go to college.

"Everything is over. I'm a normal citizen. I learned from my experience that I'm going to continue my studies and look after my family's needs," he said.

The military court

The military courtroom where Ayat Dababsa is being tried appears no different from most courts. There is a judge's bench with an Israeli flag behind it, a court stenographer, guards, and desks for the prosecutors and defense attorneys.

Beyond that, the similarities end.

Located deep inside Israeli army bases surrounded by concrete walls and razor-wire fences, the courts are effectively hidden from public view.

Visitors, including journalists, must obtain permission to enter and often must be escorted by soldiers. Typically, only two members of the defendant's family are allowed at hearings. Unlike Israeli civilian courts, its rulings and decisions are not published or open to public view unless specifically requested.

Set up soon after Israel seized the West Bank and Gaza during the 1967 Arab-Israeli war, the courts have been widely criticized as a blunt instrument of the Israeli occupation.

Like all military courts of occupying powers overseeing a foreign population, there is a built-in bias against the defendants, defense attorneys say.

Defense attorneys -- most of them Palestinians working for nonprofit organizations -- frequently complain that they're not allowed access to defendants or their court files. Many defendants meet their attorney for the first time only once they're in court, according to a yearlong study of the military courts by the Israeli human rights group Machsom Watch.

The study also found that some of the Palestinian defense attorneys demonstrated a poor command of Hebrew, the language used in court.

In the hundreds of cases handled by Defense for Children, Palestinian juveniles were granted bail in just 3 percent to 5 percent of the cases. According to one military prosecutor, about 42 percent of all detained Palestinians -- both adults and juveniles -- are released on bail. He could not provide statistics for juvenile cases.

Faced with prison time from the moment of their arrest, many juveniles plead guilty because they could spend even more time behind bars waiting for trial, defense attorneys say. According to Israeli officials, about 94 percent of all Palestinians enter plea bargains.

"Without plea bargains, the system would collapse," said Sfard, the Israeli human rights lawyer.

According to Defense for Children attorneys, military prosecutors exaggerate the seriousness of allegations, noting that a minor caught with a knife in a bag -- as Ayat was -- is typically charged not only with possession of the knife but also with attempted murder.

That was also the case for Aisha Ginimat, a 16-year-old from a village near Hebron who was arrested at a checkpoint in 2006 for carrying a knife in her bag. She says she had the knife for protection and never threatened anyone with it. But Israeli officials said she intended to kill a soldier and charged her with attempted murder.

Faced with the possibility of a long prison sentence, she agreed to plead guilty to the lesser charge of possession of a knife and received a 10-month prison sentence, although she maintains she is innocent.

"They want to prove we Palestinian kids are terrorists," Aisha said in an interview at her home. "The way Israelis are treating Palestinian kids gives us every reason to hate them forever."

Many of the convictions are based on confessions. But in scores of statements given to Defense for Children, Palestinian minors have complained of mistreatment during interrogations. Some say they were coerced into giving confessions after being kicked, slapped, beaten and subjected to other abuse -- although such accusations are difficult for advocacy groups to verify.

Israeli officials say torture and mistreatment are forbidden, and all Palestinians have the right to report offenses in court, though very few do.

"Torture is illegal in Israel -- the Supreme Court has ruled on that unequivocally," said Regev of the Foreign Ministry. "And if there are cases of abuse, the people who are responsible for that abuse can face prosecution."

B'Tselem, an Israeli human rights group that investigates allegations of torture, says most Palestinians don't file complaints because they believe Israel will not take action against those who commit offenses.

In its 2007 human rights report on Israel and the occupied territories, Amnesty International found that military court trials did not meet international fair trial standards, and did not adequately investigate allegations of torture and mistreatment.

Israeli officials say whatever the shortcomings of the military courts, they are no worse than other justice systems around the world.

"I can't tell you now that we have the most perfect system and we have 100 percent no mistakes," said an Israeli military prosecutor, who spoke on the condition of anonymity. "We are doing our share of mistakes like the next guy. We ask ourselves all the time, 'Are we doing the right thing?'"

Administrative detention

Yet defense attorneys say they are troubled by a system that appears to be stacked against their Palestinian clients. Even when attorneys win their cases, it doesn't always guarantee that the defendant will walk free, they say.

At 4 a.m. on May 23, the family of Muhammad Assidah in Tell Village outside Nablus was stirred awake by the sound of approaching military jeeps.

After surrounding the house, soldiers stormed inside, seizing a computer and Assidah's 17-year old son, Obaidah.

He was handcuffed, blindfolded and whisked away to an interrogation center, according to his family.

In a statement given to Defense for Children, Obaidah says he was beaten and spent nine days in solitary confinement, unable to see his family or an attorney. Two months later, he appeared in court for the first time, charged with assisting a person suspected of being a member of Islamic Jihad.

The judge ruled that the prosecution's evidence -- a confession made by another juvenile accusing Obaidah, and the statements of an interrogator -- was insufficient and ordered Obaidah freed on $250 bail. Prosecutors appealed the decision, but the judge again decided he should be released.

At Obaidah's home near Nablus, his family laid out a banquet for his arrival, grilling meats and baking sweet cakes. But evening came, and he never arrived.

When the family phoned his attorney, they discovered that the military had ordered Obaidah back to prison. He was being held under administrative detention, a holdover from the period of British Mandate that allows the military to detain someone for a six-month period without charge. It is renewable indefinitely, giving the military the authority to jail someone for years.

The military prosecutor, who again spoke on condition of anonymity, said Obaidah's case was not common but sometimes necessary for security. According to Israel Prison Services, 12 Palestinians younger than 18 are currently in administrative detention.

A different standard?

By contrast, Israel offers young Israelis a seemingly different standard of justice, human rights groups say.

During the build-up to Israel's withdrawal of Jewish settlers and soldiers from the Gaza Strip in 2005, Shimshon Cytryn, an 18-year-old West Bank settler, got involved in a stone-throwing exchange with Palestinian youths in the Palestinian community of Muwasi.

In a highly publicized incident documented on video, Cytryn smashed a large rock over the head of a young Palestinian who lay injured on the ground. Cytryn then threatened an Israeli medic who arrived to assist the wounded Palestinian teen, according to court documents.

Israeli police arrested Cytryn and, convinced he had planned to kill the teen, charged him with attempted murder.

The fact that Cytryn was charged at all is unusual. A 2006 report conducted by Yesh Din, an Israeli human rights group, found that 90 percent of cases involving settler violence against Palestinians are never prosecuted because authorities claim a lack of evidence or that they cannot identify a suspect.

Cytryn was released on house arrest after six months in prison. Citing a lack of evidence, Israeli judges acquitted Cytryn of the attempted murder charge and convicted him of a lesser charge of aggravated assault. During his sentencing, defense attorneys argued that even though he was an adult, his behavior "was the result of a flare-up of emotions, which are typical of his age."

He was sentenced to six months' community service.

An upcoming report on Israel's military courts by Yesh Din will recommend that the Israeli army extend the rights it offers Israeli youths to their Palestinian peers. It will also urge Israel to open a military tribunal with prosecutors and judges trained to handle cases involving minors, to define a Palestinian minor as anyone younger than 18 and to close a loophole that allows juveniles to be tried as adults if they reach the age of adulthood during trial.

Lior Yavneh of Yesh Din said the group's proposal is critical to bolster defendants' rights. Still, he said, "it would not make the court a place where justice resides."

Regev, of the Israeli Foreign Ministry, acknowledged that the legal practices in the military courts might be "abnormal," but he added that legal technicalities prevent them from granting Palestinian defendants the standards used for Israelis. As long as Palestinians are under military occupation, Israel cannot apply international laws on their behalf, they argue.

Such a change, however, would require an end to 40 years of Israeli occupation and the creation of a Palestinian state that makes its own laws regarding minors.

Israeli officials add that even if they did decide to offer the same juvenile justice programs for Palestinians as they currently have for Israelis, they doubt they could rehabilitate Palestinian youths.

"What we have on the other side [Palestinian territories] is an ideological criminal phenomenon," the military prosecutor said. "These are not hoodlums. They are not some gang members like you might have in Israel, where there are more chances of amending their ways."

He continued: "In Israel, in most cases, the accused says, 'I'm sorry. I regret it. I wouldn't do it again.' Among Palestinians, that doesn't happen. In all my years, I can count on two hands the number of cases that someone stood before me and said, 'I'm sorry for what I did.'"

The case of Ayat

Ayat has not offered apologies either.

None of her relatives could explain how a girl who, they say, would hide in her room when Israeli soldiers patrolled the village would have mustered the courage to kill a soldier. She is "the quietest" in a family of 11 children, says her mother, Kifayeh. The girl "is afraid of her own shadow," said her 80-year-old grandmother, Fatima.

The confession Ayat signed says she planned to kill a soldier to avenge the death of her uncle, Musa Abdel Rahman, who died in an accidental shooting by Israeli soldiers in 1992. Ayat was less than a month old at the time.

In the limited contact the Dababsa family has had with Ayat since January, they say their daughter has shed no light on the subject.

Pointing to security issues, Israeli authorities don't allow Mohammad Dababsa to visit his daughter in prison. Ayat's mother and 20-year-old sister, Siham, have visited several times, but they say Ayat refused to speak with them about the charges or why she was carrying the 8-inch knife.

Ayat's lawyers say she has been reluctant to talk with them about her case, and they have asked the court to order a psychological assessment.

But whether she planned to kill a soldier or not, Ayat must have known that, given the tight security at West Bank checkpoints, she would be caught, prosecuted and likely sentenced to prison, her attorneys say.

If that's the case, they argue, she might have wanted to get caught with the knife to escape some problem -- possibly the economic difficulties the Dababsa family, like many in the West Bank, has confronted since the violence and security restrictions have destroyed the West Bank economy.

Retired Israeli Lt. Col. Anat Berko, a criminologist at the Interdisciplinary Center Herzliya, says such cases are quite common among young women who use Israeli prisons as an escape from a forced marriage, incest, abuse or other family problem.

"There are many, many cases," she says. "Perhaps in prison it's better for her than at home. At prison, they can feel much freer than at home."

Israeli defense lawyer Leah Tsemel, who has defended Palestinians in the military courts for 35 years, says she has handled a number of similar cases in recent years.

"When there is a problem in the family, this is the more honorable way out," she said. "The young Israelis would escape to Eilat or leave, but the young Palestinian has no place to go, so the most honorable solution would be to go to prison instead."

Many, she says, return to their communities as heroes.

Regardless, Ayat's lawyers say, her 11 months in jail illustrate the military courts' imbalance and injustice toward juveniles.

"She had the knife to be arrested -- nothing more," said Khaled Quzmar, one of her attorneys. "If she wanted to kill a solder, she would try to attack, but her knife was in her backpack. She'd didn't try to use it."

But the military prosecutor, speaking on the condition of anonymity, sees no mitigating circumstances in her case. She tried to commit a murder, he said.

"She went out of the house. She took the knife. She was on her way to stab someone," he said. He predicts she will receive about a five-year sentence, given the court's guidelines.