Story by Fadi Quran

On the afternoon of Feb. 24, 2012, Israeli soldiers arrested me during
the annual march to reopen Shuhada Street, in the occupied West Bank
city of Hebron. The street was once home to a popular market
frequented by Palestinians until the Israeli military sealed it off to
us in 1994. Palestinians have been protesting to reopen the road,
which we call Apartheid Street, every year since 2010.

What happened after my arrest that day still haunts me.

As thousands of us marched toward Shuhada, the Israeli military began
firing teargas and rubber bullets. A few of us ran for cover and found
ourselves face-to-face with Israeli soldiers. One of my friends was
injured after being hit by a teargas cannister, and I started tending
to him. But the soldiers began harassing us, and I told them: “We do
not fear you. This is Palestine. You should step back.”
The soldiers pepper sprayed me and pinned me to the ground. They
slammed my head against a humvee and threw me into the back of the
vehicle. About five minutes later, as they drove through the old city
of Hebron, the humvee suddenly stopped, Israeli soldiers rushed out,
and a boy began screaming. He was handcuffed and thrown in. He had
been walking to his sister’s house for lunch when they picked him up.

When we arrived at the Israeli military outpost in the Kiryat Shmona
settlement the soldiers dragged us out of the humvee. The kid, who was
14, was terrified. He pleaded with them not to pepper spray him,
having seen me not be able to open my eyes. They smacked him around
and told him to shut up. They then shackled my feet and had me sit on
a bench outside the interrogation room, walking the boy in for
questioning first. The Israeli military interrogator told him: “I can
make your family’s life hell. But I’ll let you go home. You just need
to confirm that the guy with you led the protest and told you to throw
the stones at us.” The boy started sobbing and said: “But I don’t know
this guy. I just met him when you picked me up.” The interrogator kept
pressing him, at one point raising a pistol to his face.

The charge brought against this poor kid was stone throwing, based on
the “testimony” of Israeli soldiers. The soldiers also accused me of
assaulting them, which could have resulted in me spending up to three
years in prison. They put me in solitary confinement for two days in a
holding cell in the settlement. They then moved me to a heavily
crowded underground holding cell in the Maskobiya prison in East
Jerusalem, to await a military court hearing.

But as a well-known activist, American citizen, and recent Stanford
graduate, my case gained international attention. I was also lucky, as
videos of my arrest emerged, showing that I did not assault the
soldiers and that their testimony was false.

I was released on Feb. 29 but the child was not as fortunate. I would
later learn from prisoner-rights organizations Defence for Children
International and Addameer that he spent three months in prison after
being advised by lawyers to admit to stone-throwing so he would get
out of jail sooner. Waiting for a ruling from Israel’s military courts
can take months or more.

This is far from an isolated incident. Between 500-700 children are
arrested a year. Israel denies mistreating prisoners but the majority
of detained children are beaten, as I was that day, according to
research by Save the Children. With a 95% conviction rate, according
to the nonprofit Military Court Watch, lawyers and kids know it’s
better to “confess” even if they are innocent, as waiting for a ruling
and being stuck in limbo in an Israeli jail is hell.

The world has turned a blind eye to this for years. Again and again
and again.

Just look at recent events. While the world celebrated the hostage
deal and the return of Israeli and Palestinian loved ones to their
families, Israel’s revolving door of arrests continued largely
unnoticed. Almost as many Palestinians have been arrested as released,
according to Palestinian prisoner associations. We know from recent
reports from organizations like Military Court Watch as well as
graphic videos showing Israeli soldiers beating, abusing, and
tormenting children, that many will face what no child ever should.

iving in the West Bank, and after years of monitoring child arrests as
part of leading Palestinian human rights organization Al-Haq from 2012
to 2014, and now at global civic organization Avaaz, I see the
systematic arrest of children as designed to achieve two goals.

The first is what Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have
described as pursuing an “intent to dominate” and “systematic
oppression” to maintain the system of apartheid. Palestinian children
in the West Bank are often snatched away in the dead of night,
subjected to questioning in the absence of any parent or guardian, and
languish in pretrial detention for agonizingly long periods. This
brutal treatment is not just anecdotal but is reflected in chilling
statistics: 72% of Palestinian children arrested in the West Bank
endure prolonged custody until the conclusion of legal proceedings, a
stark contrast to the 17.9% of Israeli children subjected to similar
conditions, according to HRW.

The second goal is to indoctrinate these children with learned
helplessness. The military experience suffocates a child’s sense of
agency. They can miss a school year, end up being in classes one year
younger than their friends, and often have unhealed trauma.

These chilling facts, along with my arrest in 2012, are what inspired
me to work with kids in areas with many arrests. I consulted with
experts in children’s psychological health, lawyers, activists, and
former prisoners to develop a curriculum for what children should do
if detained. The training includes walking the children through what
to expect, self-awareness and meditation tactics to calm their nerves,
and legal knowledge, as well as providing community support for
children who have gone through this experience.

Yet this can only do so much. We need all violence against Palestinian
children, including arbitrary detention, to end. The world has largely
watched in horror as Israel’s bombardment of Gaza has left at least
18,000 people dead, over 7,000 of whom are children, according to
Gaza’s health ministry.

The victimization of Palestinian children is profound enough that one
Hebrew University law professor has coined a word for it:
“Unchilding.” The international community must act to stop the
suffering of children, whether they are under bombardment, siege, or
in detention.

All children deserve dignity, protection, and a life free from fear.
Palestinian children should be no exception.

https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/world/i-saw-the-haunting-reality-of-palestinian-child-prisoners/ar-AA1lvfVQ?ocid=msedgdhp&pc=SCOOBE&cvid=e40b75d14246467a95bf4cdbd6d12bf0&ei=29