If This Is Justice Then I'm A Banana

Saturday, November 01, 2003

The family last saw twenty five year old mother of two, Asma Abd-elrazzaq Salih, at the beginning of February this year. It was 1 o'clock in the morning when the Israeli soldiers arrived at the house and dawn when they took her away.

In the West Bank and Gaza incarceration of Palestinians is a regular occurrence; it happens all the time. But at least, it is customary for due process to be followed and that either charges are eventually laid and court proceedings ensue, or, alternatively, no charges are brought and Administrative Detention is confirmed in their place. Administrative Detention is the process whereby a person can be held in prison, on the basis of undisclosed and untested evidence, for as long as the authorities wish.

In Asma's case there are two elements, which are unusual. Firstly, Asma is one of only seventy Palestinian women prisoners held by Israel for 'Intifada' related reasons - all of them in Ramleh gaol in Israel. Secondly, and more importantly, she hasn't done anything wrong. The authorities accuse her of …er …of… er…nothing.

Effectively Asma has been kidnapped and held hostage for the past nine months in the harshest of circumstances because the Israeli army has been looking for her husband and could not find him. They still cannot find him. Asma is being kept in prison simply as bait – like the chicken in a sack to draw a fox out into the open.

This is the twenty first century, for heavens sake. A modern, democratic country does not steal a woman away from her family in the middle of the night and lock her up in a stifling, insect infested cell with five other inmates and hope that her husband will ride over the hill to rescue her. Nor should soldiers subject a young boy – as they did with Asma's five-year-old son Ali - to a body search and questioning while ransacking his home at one in the morning.

As Palestinians are not allowed to cross into Israel, Asma receives no visits from her immediate family. They live in Silwad – a hilltop village with some of the most beautiful views in Palestine - and only her aunt, whose home is in East Jerusalem, possesses the requisite Israeli Identification Document.

In the brutal world of Israeli occupation of the West Bank, Asma's situation could continue indefinitely. This morning, when I visited the family, they had not yet been informed what it is that the husband is supposed to have done or where he might be. Not surprisingly they are distraught – little Ali and his three year old sister Selma particularly so. And they are powerless. They can't even employ a lawyer as that is forbidden by the authorities and food parcels are not allowed either. More worrying still is that the aunt from Jerusalem confirms that Asma's health – her breathing especially - is deteriorating rapidly.

I sat in the high vaulted room in the centuries old house, next to the mosque. I sat with Asma's mother, her grandmother, aunt, cousin, and sister ranged on a line of chairs to my front. The ancient house, the internal walls and ceiling, the women's clothes, and their headscarves were white – dazzlingly white with splashes of colour. It was a scene reminiscent of a film by Fellini.

Although it is Ramadan, and assuming correctly that I am not Moslem, the women insisted I drink a glass of cool juice after my journey from Jerusalem; a journey which should take thirty minutes, but in fact took more than three hours because of roadblocks and diversions. A young woman sat next to me; her headscarf was white and she wore a blue dress. A student of English at BirZeit University, she was there to interpret.

The atmosphere was soothing and peaceful. One person spoke at a time. I asked all the questions and only once did someone else take the initiative and that was at the outset. Asma’s mother reminded me in a quiet and dignified manner that it was the British, who were the architects of the Palestinians' misfortune - a comment not intended to offend. It was simply a statement of fact that she felt needed to be made.

No one in the room had illusions that an article by me would influence the Israeli authorities, or that publicity would expedite Asma's release. The women have lived too long under Israeli occupation to think that. They just needed to speak out. They want the truth to be told.