Released Palestinians Describe Worsening Abuses in Israeli Prisons

Palestinian boxer Muazzaz Abayat, 37, holds his 2-month-old son Mohammed and daughter Mira, 5, at home in the West Bank city of Bethlehem, Wednesday, July 17, 2024, days after his release from Israeli prison, frail, disoriented and with no initial memory of his family. (AP Photo/Maya Alleruzzo)
Palestinian boxer Muazzaz Abayat, 37, holds his 2-month-old son Mohammed and daughter Mira, 5, at home in the West Bank city of Bethlehem, Wednesday, July 17, 2024, days after his release from Israeli prison, frail, disoriented and with no initial memory of his family. (AP Photo/Maya Alleruzzo)
TT

Released Palestinians Describe Worsening Abuses in Israeli Prisons

Palestinian boxer Muazzaz Abayat, 37, holds his 2-month-old son Mohammed and daughter Mira, 5, at home in the West Bank city of Bethlehem, Wednesday, July 17, 2024, days after his release from Israeli prison, frail, disoriented and with no initial memory of his family. (AP Photo/Maya Alleruzzo)
Palestinian boxer Muazzaz Abayat, 37, holds his 2-month-old son Mohammed and daughter Mira, 5, at home in the West Bank city of Bethlehem, Wednesday, July 17, 2024, days after his release from Israeli prison, frail, disoriented and with no initial memory of his family. (AP Photo/Maya Alleruzzo)

Frequent beatings, overcrowding, withholding of basic rations. Released Palestinians have described to The Associated Press worsening abuses in Israeli prisons crammed with thousands detained since the war in Gaza began 10 months ago.

Israeli officials have acknowledged that they have made conditions harsher for Palestinians in prisons, with hard-line National Security Minister Itamar Ben Gvir boasting that prisons will no longer be “summer camps” under his watch.

Four released Palestinians told the AP that treatment had dramatically worsened in prisons run by the ministry since the Oct. 7 attacks that triggered the latest war between Israel and Hamas in Gaza. Some emerged from months of captivity emaciated and emotionally scarred.

A fifth prisoner, Muazzaz Abayat, was too weakened to detail his experience soon after his release in July following six months at southern Israel’s Naqab prison. Frail-looking and unable to focus, he could only muster the strength to speak for several minutes, saying he was regularly beaten.

Now at home outside Bethlehem, the 37-year-old can hardly leave his armchair.

“At night, he hallucinates and stands in the middle of the house, in shock or remembering the torment and pain he went through,” said his cousin, Aya Abayat. Like many of the detained, he was put under administrative detention, a procedure that allows Israel to detain people indefinitely without charge.

The AP cannot independently verify the accounts of the prisoners. But they described similar conditions, even though they were held separately. While Abayat was only able to speak briefly, the other four spoke to the AP at length, and one requested anonymity for fear of being rearrested. Their accounts match reports from human rights groups that have documented alleged abuse in Israeli detention facilities.

Alarm among rights groups over abuses of Palestinian prisoners has mainly focused on military facilities, particularly Sde Teiman, a desert base where Israeli military police have arrested 10 soldiers on suspicion of sodomizing a Palestinian detainee. The detention facility at the base has held most of the Palestinians seized in raids in the Gaza Strip since the war began.

The soldiers, five of whom have since been released, deny the sodomy allegation. Their defense lawyer has said that they used force to defend themselves against a detainee who attacked them during a search, but did not sexually abuse him.

The Israeli army says 36 Palestinian prisoners have died in military-run detention centers since October. It said some of them had “previous illnesses or injuries caused to them as a result of the ongoing hostilities,” without elaborating further.

According to autopsy reports for five of the detainees, two bore signs of physical trauma such as broken ribs, while the death of a third “could have been avoided if there had been greater care for his medical needs.” The reports were provided to the AP by Physicians for Human Rights-Israel, an Israeli rights organization whose doctors observed the autopsies.

Facing calls to shut down the Sde Teiman facility, the military has been transferring hundreds of Palestinians from the base to the prisons run by Ben Gvir’s ministry.

But according to Abayat and the others who spoke to the AP, conditions in those facilities are traumatic as well.

Munthir Amira, a West Bank political activist who was held in Ofer Prison, said guards regularly beat detainees for punishment or often for no reason at all.

He said he and 12 others shared a cell with only six beds and a few thin blankets, freezing during the winter months. When prisoners had to go to the bathroom, they were handcuffed and bent over, and they were let outside for only 15 minutes twice a week, he said. Amira was held in administrative detention, apparently over his Facebook posts critical of Israel.

He said he lost 33 kilograms (72 pounds) during his three months in detention because of minimal food.

The treatment drove some to the edge: Amira recounted a day when he and his cellmates watched through their cell window as another inmate tried to kill himself by jumping off a high fence. He said they banged on their door to get help. Instead, he said, soldiers with two large dogs entered their cell, bound their hands, lined them up in the corridor and beat them, including on their genitals.

He said that when he was first arrested in December, guards ordered him to strip naked and spread his legs, then beat him into submission when he refused. During the ensuing examination, one guard prodded his genitalia with a metal detector, he said.

The National Security Ministry said in a statement to the AP that it was not aware of the claims of abuse from the five released men. It said it follows “all basic rights required” for prisoners, and that detainees can file complaints that will be “fully examined.”

But it said it has intentionally “reduced conditions” for Palestinian detainees “to the minimum required by law” since Oct. 7. The purpose, it said, “is to deter ... terror activities.”

Since the war began, the Palestinian prison population has nearly doubled to almost 10,000, including detainees from Gaza and several thousand people seized from the West Bank and east Jerusalem, according to HaMoked, an Israeli rights group that gathers figures from prison authorities.

Those detained include alleged militants seized in raids in the West Bank and Palestinians suspected in attacks on soldiers or settlers. But others also have apparently been detained for social media posts critical of Israel or past activism, according to a report from the United Nations human rights office.

All four former detainees who spoke at length said hunger was perhaps their greatest challenge.

Breakfast was 250 grams (9 ounces) of yogurt and a single tomato or pepper shared among five people, said Omar Assaf, a Ramallah-based retired Arabic language professor, also held at Ofer. He, too, said he was interrogated over his social media posts.

For lunch and dinner, he said, each person received two-thirds of a cup of rice and a bowl of soup shared with others.

“You didn’t see the color of fruit ... not a piece of meat,” he said.

Harsher conditions were imposed immediately after Oct. 7, according to Mohamed al-Salhi, who at the time was serving a 23-year sentence in a Jerusalem prison for forming an armed group.

Days after the attack, he said, guards stripped his cell of everything, including radios, televisions and clothing. Eventually, the number of inmates in the cell grew from a half-dozen to 14, and curtains in the communal showers were removed, leaving them to wash exposed, he said. Al-Salhi was released in June after completing his sentence.

A half-dozen Palestinian families gathered outside Ofer one day earlier this month to await their relatives’ release. As the gate slid open, several emaciated-looking men, with unkempt hair and rough beards, walked out before dropping to the ground to pray.

Mutasim Swalim embraced his father. He said he spent a year in prison over a Facebook post.

“The taste of freedom is very nice,” he said.

Others declined to speak.

“I just spent two months in prison,” one said as he staggered by. “I don’t want to go back.”



They Fled War in Sudan. But they Haven't Been Able to Flee the Hunger

Sudanese refugees arrive in Acre, Chad, Sunday, Oct 6. 2024. (AP Photo/Sam Mednick)
Sudanese refugees arrive in Acre, Chad, Sunday, Oct 6. 2024. (AP Photo/Sam Mednick)
TT

They Fled War in Sudan. But they Haven't Been Able to Flee the Hunger

Sudanese refugees arrive in Acre, Chad, Sunday, Oct 6. 2024. (AP Photo/Sam Mednick)
Sudanese refugees arrive in Acre, Chad, Sunday, Oct 6. 2024. (AP Photo/Sam Mednick)

For months, Aziza Abrahim fled from one village in Sudan to the next as people were slaughtered. Yet the killing of relatives and her husband's disappearance aren't what forced the 23-year-old to leave the country for good. It was hunger, she said.
“We don’t have anything to eat because of the war,” Abrahim said, cradling her 1-year-old daughter under the sheet where she now shelters, days after crossing into Chad, The Associated Press reported.
The war in Sudan has created vast hunger, including famine. It has pushed people off their farms. Food in the markets is sparse, prices have spiked and aid groups say they’re struggling to reach the most vulnerable as warring parties limit access.
Some 24,000 people have been killed and millions displaced during the war that erupted in April 2023, sparked by tensions between the military and the Rapid Support Forces. Global experts confirmed famine in the Zamzam displacement camp in July. They warn that some 25 million people — more than half of Sudan’s population — are expected to face acute hunger this year.
“People are starving to death at the moment ... It’s man-made. It’s these men with guns and power who deny women and children food,” Jan Egeland, head of the Norwegian Refugee Council, told AP. Warring parties on both sides are blocking assistance and delaying authorization for aid groups, he said.
Between May and September, there were seven malnutrition-related deaths among children in one hospital at a displacement site in Chad run by Doctors Without Borders, known by its French acronym MSF. Such deaths can be from disease in hunger-weakened bodies.
In September, MSF was forced to stop caring for 5,000 malnourished children in North Darfur for several weeks, citing repeated, deliberate obstructions and blockades. US President Joe Biden has called on both sides to allow unhindered access and stop killing civilians.
But the fighting shows no signs of slowing. More than 2,600 people were killed across the country in October, according to the Armed Conflict Location & Event Data Project, which called it the bloodiest month of the war.
Violence is intensifying around North Darfur's capital, El Fasher, the only capital in the vast western Darfur region that the RSF doesn't hold. Darfur has experienced some of the war's worst atrocities, and the International Criminal Court prosecutor has said there are grounds to believe both sides may be committing war crimes, crimes against humanity or genocide.
Abrahim escaped her village in West Darfur and sought refuge for more than a year in nearby towns with friends and relatives. Her husband had left home to find work before the war, and she hasn’t heard from him since.
She struggled to eat and feed their daughter. Unable to farm, she cut wood and sold it in Chad, traveling eight hours by donkey there and back every few days, earning enough to buy grain. But after a few months the wood ran out, forcing her to leave for good.
Others who have fled to Chad described food prices spiking three-fold and stocks dwindling in the market. There were no vegetables, just grains and nuts.
Awatif Adam came to Chad in October. Her husband wasn't making enough transporting people with his donkey cart, and it was too risky to farm, she said. Her 6-year-old twin girls and 3-year-old son lost weight and were always hungry.
“My children were saying all the time, ‘Mom, give us food’,” she said. Their cries drove her to leave.
As more people stream into Chad, aid groups worry about supporting them.
Some 700,000 Sudanese have entered since the war began. Many live in squalid refugee camps or shelter at the border in makeshift displacement sites. And the number of arrivals at the Adre crossing between August and October jumped from 6,100 to 14,800, according to government and UN data., though it was not clear whether some people entered multiple times.
Earlier this year, the World Food Program cut rations by roughly half in Chad, citing a lack of funding.
While there's now enough money to return to full rations until the start of next year, more arrivals will strain the system and more hunger will result if funding doesn't keep pace, said Ramazani Karabaye, head of the World Food Program's operations in Adre.
During an AP visit to Adre in October, some people who fled Sudan at the start of the war said they were still struggling.
Khadiga Omer Adam said she doesn't have enough aid or money to eat regularly, which has complicated breastfeeding her already malnourished daughter, Salma Issa. The 35-year-old gave birth during the war's initial days, delivering alone in West Darfur. It was too dangerous for a midwife to reach her.
Adam had clutched the baby as she fled through villages, begging for food. More than a year later, she sat on a hospital bed holding a bag of fluid above her daughter, who was fed through a tube in her nose.
“I have confidence in the doctors ... I believe she'll improve, I don't think she'll die," she said.
The MSF-run clinic in the Aboutengue camp admitted more than 340 cases of severely malnourished children in August and September. Staff fear that number could rise. The arid climate in Chad south of the Sahara Desert means it's hard to farm, and there's little food variety, health workers said.
People are fleeing Sudan into difficult conditions, said Dr. Oula Dramane Ouattara, head of MSF's medical activities in the camp.
”If things go on like this, I’m afraid the situation will get out of control," he said.