Syrian Family Reunited, Against the Odds, in Greece

Abdul Salam Al Khawien, 37, right, and his wife Kariman, 32, left, pose with their children for a family photo, at their apartment in the northern city of Thessaloniki, Greece, Saturday, May 1, 2021. (AP Photo/Giannis Papanikos)
Abdul Salam Al Khawien, 37, right, and his wife Kariman, 32, left, pose with their children for a family photo, at their apartment in the northern city of Thessaloniki, Greece, Saturday, May 1, 2021. (AP Photo/Giannis Papanikos)
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Syrian Family Reunited, Against the Odds, in Greece

Abdul Salam Al Khawien, 37, right, and his wife Kariman, 32, left, pose with their children for a family photo, at their apartment in the northern city of Thessaloniki, Greece, Saturday, May 1, 2021. (AP Photo/Giannis Papanikos)
Abdul Salam Al Khawien, 37, right, and his wife Kariman, 32, left, pose with their children for a family photo, at their apartment in the northern city of Thessaloniki, Greece, Saturday, May 1, 2021. (AP Photo/Giannis Papanikos)

Torn apart in the deadly chaos of an air raid, a Syrian family of seven has been reunited, against the odds, three years later at a refugee shelter in Greece's second city of Thessaloniki, a centuries-old melting point of cultures overlooking the Aegean Sea.

When the warplanes screamed in over the village of Dana, near Idlib in Syria, in September 2017, Abdul Salam Al Khawien was at home with his five children. His wife, Kariman, was out shopping in the marketplace. Bombs burst among the stalls, scattering corpses and knocking her unconscious.

She spent the next week recovering in a clinic, and by the time she was well enough to leave, Abdul had fled with the children to safety across the Turkish border, some 15 kilometers (9 miles) away.
Now in different countries, lacking mobile phones, internet or any other means of communicating or learning what had happened to each other, Kariman and Abdul each lost hope that the other had survived.

Until, one day last August, Kariman's brother discovered a social media account with a photograph of her eldest son, Hamza. It had been opened by Abdul, who had managed to reach Greece with the children — in his fifth attempt, having paid smugglers 5,000 euros ($6,000) for berths in a flimsy boat with more than 60 others — and had been granted asylum.

She immediately got in touch.

“I had a good feeling that day,” Abdul, a 37-year-old former car salesman from a village near Homs, told The Associated Press. “When I saw the message I nearly went mad with joy. I didn't tell the children, though. I thought it would be better for them to find out when she got here.”

Before, he said, whenever the children had asked about their mother, he told them she was in Syria and would rejoin them one day. “But they suspected she was dead," he said. "I had lost all hope.”
The 32-year-old mother still faced a daunting prospect: Making the dangerous — and illegal — journey from Syria to Turkey and then Greece, assisted by smuggling gangs.
“We didn't have any money (to pay them),” Kariman said, “and had to find some.”

She was able to raise the cash and entered Turkey with other Syrian refugees, finally reaching Istanbul. “From there, using smugglers, I tried to enter Greece by crossing the Evros River” that runs along the Greek-Turkish land border, she said.

But they were caught by Greek border guards and, according to Kariman, were sent back a day later to Turkey in the type of illegal action, known as a pushback, that Greece has repeatedly been accused of using against migrants slipping across the porous frontier. Greek authorities deny the practice.

Her second try, in November 2020, was successful. She found her way on foot, in the dark, to a Greek village.

“I went into a coffee shop and broke into tears,” she said. “They asked me where I was from, I said Syria, and they welcomed me. ... I sat on a balcony with a woman and drank coffee, and she made me understand, in sign language, that I was now safe.”

She was able to contact Filoxeneio, the facility set up by the Arsis NGO and the Thessaloniki municipality where Abdul and the children were living, and after registering with police the family was reunited.

Filoxeneio coordinator Manolis Zougos said he'd never encountered such a story during the 17 years he's been working with refugees.

“Up to the last minute we had thought her dead, which is what Abdul believed,” he said. “He had had a hard time. He was on his own and needed to perform multiple roles for his children.”

Even before the air raid on Dana, the family had struggled to escape violence in Syria's civil war.

“We changed locations 28 times, starting from our village near Homs in 2011,” Abdul said. “I had just built our house there, and it was destroyed. Whenever unrest came, we moved on. ... As soon as we heard a bombardment, we grabbed blankets, a tent and a generator, put them in the car and left.”

The couple tell their story with their children — Hamza, 10, Iman, 8, Layan, 7, Bayan, 5, and Safa, 3 1/2 — sitting around them. Kariman is pregnant again — “I would like a boy," Abdul said. But their travels may not yet be over.

Abdul says he wants to reach Germany, where his brother and sister live.

“Greece is a very safe country, but it is difficult to find work,” he said. “It's difficult for us.”



Amid Ceasefire Push, Palestinians Released from Israeli Jails Bear Mental, Physical Scars

A combination image shows Palestinian Moazaz Obaiyat in an undated handout image as he trains in a gym, prior to his arrest, near Bethlehem and Obaiyat in a screengrab from video, as he walks after being released from an Israeli jail, near Hebron in the Israeli-occupied West Bank, July 8, 2024. Saddam Obaiyat/Handout and REUTERS TV/File photo
A combination image shows Palestinian Moazaz Obaiyat in an undated handout image as he trains in a gym, prior to his arrest, near Bethlehem and Obaiyat in a screengrab from video, as he walks after being released from an Israeli jail, near Hebron in the Israeli-occupied West Bank, July 8, 2024. Saddam Obaiyat/Handout and REUTERS TV/File photo
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Amid Ceasefire Push, Palestinians Released from Israeli Jails Bear Mental, Physical Scars

A combination image shows Palestinian Moazaz Obaiyat in an undated handout image as he trains in a gym, prior to his arrest, near Bethlehem and Obaiyat in a screengrab from video, as he walks after being released from an Israeli jail, near Hebron in the Israeli-occupied West Bank, July 8, 2024. Saddam Obaiyat/Handout and REUTERS TV/File photo
A combination image shows Palestinian Moazaz Obaiyat in an undated handout image as he trains in a gym, prior to his arrest, near Bethlehem and Obaiyat in a screengrab from video, as he walks after being released from an Israeli jail, near Hebron in the Israeli-occupied West Bank, July 8, 2024. Saddam Obaiyat/Handout and REUTERS TV/File photo

Once muscular and strong, Palestinian bodybuilder Moazaz Obaiyat’s nine-month spell in Israeli custody left him unable to walk unaided upon his release in July. Then, in an October pre-dawn raid on his home, soldiers detained him again.

Before being re-arrested, the 37-year-old father of five was diagnosed with severe PTSD by Bethlehem Psychiatric Hospital, related to his time at Israel's remote Ktz'iot prison, according to medical notes seen by Reuters from the hospital, a public clinic in the occupied West Bank.

The notes said Obaiyat was subjected to "physical and psychological violence and torture" in prison and described symptoms including severe anxiety, withdrawal from his family and avoidance of discussion of traumatic events and current affairs. Alleged abuses and psychological harm to Palestinian detainees in Israeli prisons and camps are in renewed focus amid stepped-up efforts in December by international mediators to secure a ceasefire that could see the release of thousands of inmates detained during the Gaza war and before, in return for Israeli hostages held by the Palestinian group Hamas in Gaza.

In the event of the release of detainees in any future deal, many “will require long-term medical care to recover from the physical and psychological abuse they have endured,” said Qadoura Fares, head of the Palestinian Commission for Detainees and Ex-Detainees Affairs, a government body in the West Bank. Fares said he was aware of Obaiyat’s case.

For this story, Reuters spoke to four Palestinian men detained by Israel since the war’s outbreak after the Hamas attacks of Oct. 7, 2023. All were held for months, accused of affiliating with an illegal organization, and released without being formally charged or convicted of any crime.

All described lasting psychological scars they attributed to abuses including beatings, sleep and food deprivation and prolonged restraint in stress positions during their time inside. Reuters could not independently verify the conditions in which they were held.

Their accounts are consistent with multiple investigations by human rights groups that reported grave abuses of Palestinians in Israeli detention. An investigation published by the United Nations human rights office in August described substantiated reports of widespread "torture, sexual assault and rape, amid atrocious inhumane conditions" in prisons since the war began. The UN office has also said Hamas' Oct. 7 attacks could amount to war crimes and crimes against humanity.

The White House has called the reports of torture, rape and abuse in Israel's prisons “deeply concerning.”

In response to Reuters questions, the Israeli military said it was investigating several cases of alleged abuse of Gazan detainees by military personnel but “categorically” rejected allegations of systematic abuse within its detention facilities. The military declined to comment on individual cases. The Israel Prison Service (IPS), which falls under hard-right national security minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, and the country's internal security service said they were not in a position to comment on individual cases.

“Terrorists in Israeli prisons are granted supervised living conditions and accommodations appropriate for criminals,” Ben Gvir’s office said in response to Reuters questions, adding that the facilities operate in accordance with the law. "The 'summer camp' is over," Ben Gvir's office said.

Tal Steiner, executive director of the Israeli rights group Public Committee Against Torture in Israel (PCATI), said the symptoms the men recounted were common and can echo through victims’ lifetimes, often shattering their families.

"Torture in Israeli prisons has exploded since October 7. It will have and already has had a devastating effect on Palestinian society," said Steiner.

Speaking from his hospital bed in July, a severely emaciated Obaiyat called the treatment of himself and fellow prisoners "disgusting," showing scars on his wasted legs and describing isolation, hunger, handcuffs and abuse with metal rods, without giving details.

Photos of Obaiyat taken before his incarceration show a powerfully-built man.

On Dec. 19, Israel’s High Court ordered the state to answer a petition brought by rights groups about the lack of adequate food for Palestinian prisoners. Israel has also reported mistreatment of some of the 251 of its citizens taken captive to Gaza after the Hamas attacks. A report by the Israeli Health Ministry, published on Saturday said hostages were subjected to torture, including sexual and psychological abuse. Hamas has repeatedly denied abuse of the hostages.

WITHOUT CHARGE

Obaiyat is currently being held in a small detention center in Etzion, south of Bethlehem, according to the Palestinian Prisoners’ Club, an advocacy group.

He is being held for six months under "administrative detention", a form of incarceration without charge or trial, and the official reason for his arrest is unknown, the group said. Israel’s military, internal security service and prison service did not respond to questions about his specific case.

PCATI said at least 56 Palestinians had died in custody during the war, compared to just one or two annually in the years preceding the conflict. Israel’s military said it launches criminal investigations of all deaths of Palestinians in its custody.

Palestinian prisoner numbers have at least doubled in Israel and the West Bank to more than 10,000 during the war, PCATI estimates, based on court documents and data obtained through freedom of information requests.

Through the course of the war, around 6,000 Gazans have been incarcerated, the Israeli military said in response to a query from Reuters.

Unlike Palestinians from the West Bank who are held under military law, Palestinians from Gaza are held in Israel under its Unlawful Combatants Law.

The law has been used to hold people incommunicado, deny them their rights as prisoners of war or as prisoners under military occupation, and incarcerate them for extended periods without charge or trial, according to Professor Neve Gordon, an Israeli scholar who specialises in human rights and international law at London's Queen Mary University.

The Palestinian Prisoners’ Club likened the detentions to forced disappearance. Israel's prison service declined to comment on prisoner numbers and deaths.

SDE TEIMAN CAMP

Fadi Ayman Mohammad Radi, 21, a former engineering student from Khan Younis, Gaza, was one of a couple dozen Palestinians released at the Kerem Shalom crossing into Gaza on Aug. 20.

Radi described struggling to stretch out his limbs after being cuffed and chained for four months at Israel's Sde Teiman military detention camp, officially a temporary prisoner sorting facility.

"They didn't interrogate us, they destroyed us," said Radi.

Located in the Negev desert, Sde Teiman has been the site of grave abuses including rape, according to allegations by whistleblowers among the camp’s guards.

Israel is currently investigating what the UN called "a particularly gruesome case" of alleged sexual abuse at Sde Teiman in which five soldiers are accused of anally penetrating a detainee with a rod that punctured his internal organs.

Radi said he was beaten repeatedly and arbitrarily, permanently restrained and blindfolded, hung up in stress positions and forced to sit on the floor almost constantly without moving.

At one point, he said he was deprived of sleep for five consecutive days in a space he said Israeli soldiers called the ‘disco room,' subjected to loud music. He did not describe sexual violence.

Radi said he found it difficult to sleep and that even talking about his ordeal made him relive it.

"Every time I say the words, I visualise the torture,” said Radi, who was arrested by Israeli soldiers in Gaza on March 4.

Reuters could not independently verify his story. The Israeli military said it was unable to comment, saying it could not find Radi's files because Reuters was unable to provide his ID number.

Despite a government decision to phase out Sde Teiman, the camp is still operational, PCATI said.

OFER AND KTZ’IOT

Widespread abuses have also been reported at more established facilities, such as the Ktz’iot prison, also in the Negev, and Ofer military camp, south of Ramallah in the West Bank.

After collating evidence and testimony from 55 former Palestinian prisoners, Israeli rights group B'Tselem earlier this year released a report accusing Israel of deliberately turning the prison system into a 'network of torture camps'.

Using emergency legislation introduced after the Oct. 7 attack on Israel by Hamas, Ben Gvir, the hardline minister, ordered conditions be downgraded for 'security prisoners', a category almost entirely comprising Palestinians.

Human rights scholar Gordon likened what he said was the use of torture in Israel's prisons to terrorism.

"Terrorism usually is an act that's limited in the number of people directly impacted, but the psychosocial effect is dramatic. It’s the same with torture," said Gordon, who co-edited a book on abuses in the Israeli prison system.