Some Israeli Soldiers Traveling Abroad Are Targeted for Alleged War Crimes in Gaza 

Israeli soldiers look towards Beit Hanoun in Gaza in January. (Reuters file)
Israeli soldiers look towards Beit Hanoun in Gaza in January. (Reuters file)
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Some Israeli Soldiers Traveling Abroad Are Targeted for Alleged War Crimes in Gaza 

Israeli soldiers look towards Beit Hanoun in Gaza in January. (Reuters file)
Israeli soldiers look towards Beit Hanoun in Gaza in January. (Reuters file)

An Israeli army reservist's dream vacation in Brazil ended abruptly last month over an accusation that he committed war crimes in the Gaza Strip.

Yuval Vagdani woke up on Jan. 4 to a flurry of missed calls from family members and Israel's Foreign Ministry with an urgent warning: A pro-Palestinian legal group had convinced a federal judge in Brazil to open a war crimes investigation for his alleged participation in the demolition of civilian homes in Gaza.

A frightened Vagdani fled the country on a commercial flight the next day to avoid the grip of a powerful legal concept called “universal jurisdiction,” which allows governments to prosecute people for the most serious crimes regardless of where they are allegedly committed.

Vagdani, a survivor of Hamas’ deadly Oct. 7, 2023, attack on an Israeli music festival, told an Israeli radio station the accusation felt like “a bullet in the heart.”

The case against Vagdani was brought by the Hind Rajab Foundation, a legal group based in Belgium named after a young girl who Palestinians say was killed early in the war by Israeli fire as she and her family fled Gaza City.

Aided by geolocation data, the group built its case around Vagdani's own social media posts. A photograph showed him in uniform in Gaza, where he served in an infantry unit; a video showed a large explosion of buildings in Gaza during which soldiers can be heard cheering.

Judges at the International Criminal Court concluded last year there was enough evidence to issue an arrest warrant for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu for crimes against humanity for using “starvation as a method of warfare” and for intentionally targeting civilians. Both Israel and Netanyahu have vehemently denied the accusations.

Since forming last year, Hind Rajab has made dozens of complaints in more than 10 countries to arrest both low-level and high-ranking Israeli soldiers. Its campaign has yet to yield any arrests. But it has led Israel to tighten restrictions on social media usage among military personnel.

“It’s our responsibility, as far as we are concerned, to bring the cases,” Haroon Raza, a co-founder of Hind Rajab, said from his office in Rotterdam in the Netherlands. It is then up to authorities in each country — or the International Criminal Court — to pursue them, he added.

The director general of Israel's Foreign Ministry, Eden Bar-Tal, last month said fewer than a dozen soldiers had been targeted, and he dismissed the attempted arrests as a futile public relations stunt by “terrorist organizations.”

Universal jurisdiction is not new. The 1949 Geneva Conventions - the post Second World War treaty regulating military conduct - specify that all signatories must prosecute war criminals or hand them over to a country who will. In 1999, the United Nations Security Council asked all UN countries to include universal jurisdiction in their legal codes, and around 160 countries have adopted them in some form.

“Certain crimes like war crimes, genocide and crimes against humanity are crimes under international law,” said Marieke de Hoon, an international law expert at the University of Amsterdam. “And we’ve recognized in international law that any state has jurisdiction over those egregious crimes.”

Israel used the concept to prosecute Adolf Eichmann, an architect of the Holocaust. Mossad agents caught him in Argentina in 1960 and brought him to Israel where he was sentenced to death by hanging.

More recently, a former Syrian secret police officer was convicted in 2022 by a German court of crimes against humanity a decade earlier for overseeing the abuse of detainees at a jail. Later that year, an Iranian citizen was convicted by a Swedish court of war crimes during the Iran-Iraq war in the 1980s.

In 2023, 16 people were convicted of war crimes through universal jurisdiction, according to TRIAL International, a Swiss organization that tracks proceedings. Those convictions were related to crimes committed in Syria, Rwanda, Iran and other countries.

In response to Brazil's pursuit of Vagdani, the Israeli military has prohibited soldiers below a certain rank from being named in news articles and requires their faces to be obscured. It has also warned soldiers against social media posts related to their military service or travel plans.

The evidence Hind Rajab lawyers presented to the judge in Brazil came mostly from Vagdani’s social media accounts.

“That's what they saw and that's why they want me for their investigation,” he told the Israeli radio station Kan. “From one house explosion they made 500 pages. They thought I murdered thousands of children.”

Vagdani does not appear in the video and he did not say whether he had carried out the explosion himself, telling the station he had come into Gaza for “maneuvers” and “was in the battles of my life.”

Social media has made it easier in recent years for legal groups to gather evidence. For example, several ISIS militants have been convicted of crimes committed in Syria by courts in various European countries, where lawyers relied on videos posted online, according to de Hoon.

The power of universal jurisdiction has limits.

In the Netherlands, where Hind Rajab has filed more than a dozen complaints, either the victim or perpetrator must hold Dutch nationality, or the suspect must be in the country for the entirety of the investigation — factors likely to protect Israeli tourists from prosecution. Eleven complaints against 15 Israeli soldiers have been dismissed, some because the accused was only in the country for a short time, according to Dutch prosecutors. Two complaints involving four soldiers are pending.

In 2016, activists in the UK made unsuccessful attempts to arrest Israeli military and political leaders for their roles in the 2008-09 war in Gaza.

Raza says his group will persist. “It might take 10 years. It might be 20 years. No problem. We are ready to have patience.”

There is no statute of limitations on war crimes.



Toufic Sultan Recalls to Asharq Al-Awsat Mutual Hatred between Hafez al-Assad and Yasser Arafat

Arafat and Assad during a celebration of the Libyan Revolution in Tripoli in 1988. (AFP)
Arafat and Assad during a celebration of the Libyan Revolution in Tripoli in 1988. (AFP)
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Toufic Sultan Recalls to Asharq Al-Awsat Mutual Hatred between Hafez al-Assad and Yasser Arafat

Arafat and Assad during a celebration of the Libyan Revolution in Tripoli in 1988. (AFP)
Arafat and Assad during a celebration of the Libyan Revolution in Tripoli in 1988. (AFP)

Journalists sometimes hear shocking statements—ones they lock away in their memory, fearing their repercussions. Some are too violent, too damaging, or too costly to repeat. Others risk swift denial from those who made them.

That was the case in late January 1987, when Kuwait hosted the fifth Islamic Summit.

Among the leaders in attendance were Saudi Arabia’s King Fahd bin Abdulaziz, Syrian President Hafez al-Assad, Lebanese President Amin Gemayel, and Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) Chairman Yasser Arafat.

I had requested an interview with Arafat, and he agreed to meet. After an exchange of pleasantries, he delivered a series of startling remarks.

“What’s happening in Beirut?” he asked.

“You know the country is grappling with the aftermath of the war of the camps,” I replied.

“No, Ghassan,” he shot back. “This is not the ‘war of the camps.’ The real name is the ‘war on the camps.’ It was personally ordered by Hafez al-Assad. Regrettably, the Amal Movement, led by Nabih Berri, is carrying out the decision, aided—unfortunately—by the Lebanese Army’s Sixth Brigade.”

Arafat must have noticed my surprise at his bluntness, because he raised his voice in anger.

“Assad is trying to finish what Ariel Sharon started in the 1982 invasion but failed to achieve. This is a continuation of Sharon’s mission to eliminate the PLO,” he charged.

Veteran Lebanese politician Toufic Sultan speaks to Asharq Al-Awsat. (Asharq Al-Awsat)

Assad: A Souk Al-Hamidiya merchant

I pointed out that his accusations were grave, targeting Syria’s head of state. His frustration only grew.

“Assad is not Syria’s president,” Arafat fumed.

“He is a merchant from Souk al-Hamidiya. If only he focused on reclaiming the Golan instead of blocking Palestinian independence to please America and Israel. Mark my words: time will prove me right. Hafez al-Assad does not recognize Palestine, nor Lebanon. He loathes Iraq under the guise of hating Saddam Hussein.”

Stunned, I listened as he went on.

“What they call an ‘uprising’ within Fatah is a conspiracy orchestrated by Assad and funded by [Libyan leader Moammar] al-Gaddafi. Assad’s only dream is to turn the Palestinian cause into a bargaining chip and to dominate Lebanon.”

As Arafat’s anger subsided, our conversation shifted to other topics.

A few days ago, I met with veteran Lebanese politician Toufic Sultan—a man who carries the collective memory of two cities. Born in Tripoli, he has also witnessed Beirut’s political twists and turns, having been a close associate of Kamal Jumblatt and his son, Walid, as well as former Prime Minister Rafik al-Hariri and his son, Saad.

He maintained ties with Arafat and participated in meetings with Assad and other Arab leaders. His recollections are rich with pivotal moments, particularly from his time as deputy leader of the National Movement, a coalition of leftist and nationalist forces led by Kamal Jumblatt.

Rocky start: Assad and Arafat’s strained relationship

Arafat’s relationship with Damascus was troubled from the outset. After a bloody internal dispute within Fatah, he was briefly detained in Syria, where the defense minister at the time was Hafez al-Assad.

Following the violent clashes between Palestinian factions and the Jordanian army in 1970, Assad came to view the presence of armed Palestinian groups as a source of chaos. This belief shaped his stance toward Arafat and the Palestinian resistance movement for years to come.

Assad grew uneasy when Palestinian factions relocated to Beirut and forged a broad alliance with Lebanon’s leftist parties and nationalist forces. He closely monitored Arafat’s rise as the dominant player on the Lebanese scene.

Despite Syria’s attempts to control the Palestinian file, Damascus struggled to rein in Fatah’s overwhelming influence and Arafat’s growing stature. His power extended to Lebanon’s southern border with Israel, where he effectively held decision-making authority.

Speaking to Asharq Al-Awsat, Sultan recalled: “Hafez al-Assad never truly respected the idea of Palestinian resistance. I heard it from him directly and from those around him. His prevailing view was that there was no real resistance—just armed groups operating in coordination with intelligence agencies. The divide between Assad and Arafat was clear from the start.”

Sultan recounted an episode that underscored the deep divide between Assad and Arafat.

“One day, Assad told Arafat that Palestine did not exist—it was simply southern Syria. Arafat fired back, saying there was no such thing as Syria, only northern Palestine. There was an attempt to mask the exchange with humor, but the reality was that Assad genuinely viewed the issue through this lens,” Sultan said.

He explained that several Arab regimes sought to control the Palestinian cause, hoping to benefit from it without bearing its consequences.

“From the Baathist perspective, both in Baghdad and Damascus, there was a belief that the issue was too significant for the PLO to unilaterally determine its fate.”

Crackdown on Palestinian media

Sultan recalled a particularly tense moment in the PLO’s relationship with the Syrian regime.

“The organization operated a radio station in Syria. One day, it aired a segment quoting Arafat, including the phrase ‘There is water in my mouth’—a cryptic remark hinting at unspoken grievances. Syrian authorities responded swiftly, sending bulldozers to demolish the station and arresting several staff members.”

That night, Palestinian officials approached Sultan, urging him to speak with Kamal Jumblatt.

“Jumblatt suggested we arrange a meeting with Assad. It was Ramadan, so I contacted Hikmat al-Shihabi, then head of Syrian intelligence and our liaison,” recalled Sultan.

As the meeting neared sunset, Jumblatt sat across from Assad, with Sultan seated beside the Syrian president. The discussion quickly turned hostile toward Arafat.

“The conversation was filled with insults. Phrases like ‘We’ll bring him in’—implying they’d arrest him—and ‘We’ll flip him over’—a reference to how prisoners were beaten—were thrown around. Jumblatt, always polite and measured, stopped eating. Sensing his discomfort, Assad turned to me and asked me to intervene.”

Sultan responded: “Mr. President, the Palestinian fighters are not our schoolmates. We are committed to the Palestinian cause, and today, the PLO and Arafat represent that cause. These men have endured extreme hardships.”

Assad listened and then conceded: “Abu Rashid is right. Consider it settled, Kamal Bey.” The detainees were subsequently released.

A meeting between Kamal Jumblatt and Arafat attended by Toufic Sultan, George Hawi, Mohsen Ibrahim, and Yasser Abed Rabbo. (Courtesy of Toufic Sultan)

Deep-seated mutual hatred

Asked whether the animosity between Assad and Arafat was evident at the time, Sultan did not hesitate.

“Of course. It was well known,” he said. “One way to ingratiate oneself with Assad was to openly attack Arafat.”

He recalled a meeting with Walid Jumblatt, Assem Kanso—the head of Lebanon’s Baath Party—and Syrian Vice President Abdul Halim Khaddam.

“When Arafat’s name came up, Khaddam abruptly declared, ‘Yasser Arafat is an Israeli spy.’ I remained silent. He turned to me and asked for my opinion. I simply said, ‘I heard you.’”

Khaddam pressed further: “What do you think?”

Sultan replied: “I respect your opinion, and this is your office. But if you want my honest view, it won’t please you.”

The atmosphere surrounding Assad was particularly hostile toward Fatah. Syrian authorities used every means at their disposal to infiltrate the group.

After years of effort, they succeeded in orchestrating major defections, the most notable led by Abu Saleh, Abu Musa, and Abu Khaled al-Omleh. Damascus provided these factions with logistical support, training camps, and other resources.

“Syria had the power to shrink or amplify political movements,” remembered Sultan.

Despite knowing that geography gave Assad a strategic advantage, Arafat was not an easy adversary.

He countered Syria’s animosity with his trademark defiance—flashing the victory sign and invoking phrases like “the Palestinian bloodbath” and “the longest Arab-Israeli war.”

These references underscored the resilience of Palestinian fighters and their Lebanese allies during Israel’s 1982 siege of Beirut, led by then-Israeli Defense Minister Ariel Sharon.

At the time, many believed that Arafat’s relentless emphasis on “independent Palestinian decision-making” was aimed more at Assad than at any other party.

Damascus, in turn, saw Arafat as dismissive of the sacrifices made by the Syrian army during Israel’s invasion of Beirut.

Syrian officials also suspected that he was waiting for an opportunity to join peace negotiations with Israel—an option that had eluded him after he failed to follow in the footsteps of Egyptian President Anwar Sadat in the late 1970s.