29 jan 2019
Like Israel’s former politician generals, from Yitzhak Rabin to Ehud Barak and Ariel Sharon, Gantz is being portrayed – and portraying himself – as a battle-hardened warrior, able to make peace from a position of strength.
Before he had issued a single policy statement, polls showed him winning 15 of the 120 parliamentary seats, a welcome sign for those hoping that a centre-left coalition can triumph this time.
But the reality of what Gantz stands for – revealed this week in his first election videos – is far from reassuring.
In 2014, he led Israel into its longest and most savage military operation in living memory: 50 days in which the tiny coastal enclave of Gaza was bombarded relentlessly.
By the end, one of the most densely populated areas on earth – its two million inhabitants already trapped by a lengthy Israeli blockade – lay in ruins.
More than 2,200 Palestinians were killed in the onslaught, a quarter of them children, while tens of thousands were left homeless.
The world watched, appalled. Investigations by human rights groups such as Amnesty International concluded that Israel had committed war crimes.
One might have assumed that during the election campaign Gantz would wish to draw a veil over this troubling period in his military career. Not a bit of it.
One of his campaign videos soars over the rubble of Gaza, proudly declaring that Gantz was responsible for destroying many thousands of buildings. “Parts of Gaza have been returned to the Stone Age,” the video boasts.
This is a reference to the Dahiya doctrine, a strategy devised by the Israeli military command of which Gantz was a core member. The aim is to lay waste to the modern infrastructure of Israel’s neighbours, forcing survivors to eke out a bare existence rather than resist Israel.
The collective punishment inherent in the apocalyptic Dahiya doctrine is an undoubted war crime.
More particularly, the video exults in the destruction of Rafah, a city in Gaza that suffered the most intense bout of bombing after an Israeli soldier was seized by Hamas. In minutes, Israel’s indiscriminate bombardment killed at least 135 Palestinian civilians and wrecked a hospital.
According to investigations, Israel had invoked the Hannibal Procedure, the code name for an order allowing the army to use any means to stop one of its soldiers being taken. That includes killing civilians as “collateral damage” and, more controversially for Israelis, the soldier himself.
Gantz’s video flashes up a grand total of “1,364 terrorists killed”, in return for “three-and-a-half years of quiet”. As Israel’s liberal Haaretz daily observed, the video “celebrates a body count as if this were just some computer game”.
But the casualty figure cited by Gantz exceeds even the Israel army’s self-serving assessment – as well, of course, as dehumanising those “terrorists” fighting for their freedom.
A more impartial observer, Israeli human rights group B’Tselem, estimates that the Palestinian fighters killed by Israel amounted to 765. By their reckoning, and that of other bodies such as the United Nations, almost two-thirds of Gazans killed in Israel’s 2014 operation were civilians.
Further, the “quiet” Gantz credits himself with was enjoyed chiefly by Israel.
In Gaza, Palestinians faced regular military attacks, a continuing siege choking off essential supplies and destroying their export industries, and a policy of executions by Israeli snipers firing on unarmed demonstrators at the perimeter fence imprisoning the enclave.
Gantz’s campaign slogans “Only the Strong Wins” and “Israel Before Everything” are telling. Everything, for Gantz, clearly includes human rights.
It is shameful enough that he believes his track record of war crimes will win over voters. But the same approach has been voiced by Israel’s new military chief of staff.
Aviv Kochavi, nicknamed the Philosopher Officer for his university studies, was inaugurated this month as the army’s latest head. In a major speech, he promised to reinvent the fabled “most moral army in the world” into a “deadly, efficient” one.
In Kochavi’s view, the rampaging military once overseen by Gantz needs to step up its game. And he is a proven expert in destruction.
In the early stages of the Palestinian uprising that erupted in 2000, the Israeli army struggled to find a way to crush Palestinian fighters concealed in densely crowded cities under occupation.
Kochavi came up with an ingenious solution in Nablus, where he was brigade commander. The army would invade a Palestinian home, then smash through its walls, moving from house to house, burrowing through the city unseen. Palestinian space was not only usurped, but destroyed inside-out.
Gantz, the former general hoping to lead the government, and Kochavi, the general leading its army, are symptoms of just how complete the militaristic logic that has overtaken Israel really is. An Israel determined to become a modern-day Sparta.
Should he bring about Netanyahu’s downfall, Gantz, like his predecessor politician-generals, will turn out to be a hollow peace-maker. He was trained to understand only strength, zero-sum strategies, conquest and destruction, not compassion or compromise.
More dangerously, Gantz’s glorification of his military past is likely to reinforce in Israelis’ minds the need not for peace but for more of the same: support for an ultranationalist right that bathes itself in an ethnic supremacist philosophy and dismisses any recognition of the Palestinians as human beings with rights.
Jonathan Cook won the Martha Gellhorn Special Prize for Journalism. His latest books are “Israel and the Clash of Civilisations: Iraq, Iran and the Plan to Remake the Middle East” (Pluto Press) and “Disappearing Palestine: Israel’s Experiments in Human Despair” (Zed Books). His new website is jonathan-cook.net.
Other posts by Jonathan Cook.
Related: 10 dec 2018 Senior Israeli Lawmaker: “The Israeli army has enough bullets for every Palestinian.”
19 oct 2018 Ex-Israel PM: We killed 300 Palestinians in 3 minutes
Before he had issued a single policy statement, polls showed him winning 15 of the 120 parliamentary seats, a welcome sign for those hoping that a centre-left coalition can triumph this time.
But the reality of what Gantz stands for – revealed this week in his first election videos – is far from reassuring.
In 2014, he led Israel into its longest and most savage military operation in living memory: 50 days in which the tiny coastal enclave of Gaza was bombarded relentlessly.
By the end, one of the most densely populated areas on earth – its two million inhabitants already trapped by a lengthy Israeli blockade – lay in ruins.
More than 2,200 Palestinians were killed in the onslaught, a quarter of them children, while tens of thousands were left homeless.
The world watched, appalled. Investigations by human rights groups such as Amnesty International concluded that Israel had committed war crimes.
One might have assumed that during the election campaign Gantz would wish to draw a veil over this troubling period in his military career. Not a bit of it.
One of his campaign videos soars over the rubble of Gaza, proudly declaring that Gantz was responsible for destroying many thousands of buildings. “Parts of Gaza have been returned to the Stone Age,” the video boasts.
This is a reference to the Dahiya doctrine, a strategy devised by the Israeli military command of which Gantz was a core member. The aim is to lay waste to the modern infrastructure of Israel’s neighbours, forcing survivors to eke out a bare existence rather than resist Israel.
The collective punishment inherent in the apocalyptic Dahiya doctrine is an undoubted war crime.
More particularly, the video exults in the destruction of Rafah, a city in Gaza that suffered the most intense bout of bombing after an Israeli soldier was seized by Hamas. In minutes, Israel’s indiscriminate bombardment killed at least 135 Palestinian civilians and wrecked a hospital.
According to investigations, Israel had invoked the Hannibal Procedure, the code name for an order allowing the army to use any means to stop one of its soldiers being taken. That includes killing civilians as “collateral damage” and, more controversially for Israelis, the soldier himself.
Gantz’s video flashes up a grand total of “1,364 terrorists killed”, in return for “three-and-a-half years of quiet”. As Israel’s liberal Haaretz daily observed, the video “celebrates a body count as if this were just some computer game”.
But the casualty figure cited by Gantz exceeds even the Israel army’s self-serving assessment – as well, of course, as dehumanising those “terrorists” fighting for their freedom.
A more impartial observer, Israeli human rights group B’Tselem, estimates that the Palestinian fighters killed by Israel amounted to 765. By their reckoning, and that of other bodies such as the United Nations, almost two-thirds of Gazans killed in Israel’s 2014 operation were civilians.
Further, the “quiet” Gantz credits himself with was enjoyed chiefly by Israel.
In Gaza, Palestinians faced regular military attacks, a continuing siege choking off essential supplies and destroying their export industries, and a policy of executions by Israeli snipers firing on unarmed demonstrators at the perimeter fence imprisoning the enclave.
Gantz’s campaign slogans “Only the Strong Wins” and “Israel Before Everything” are telling. Everything, for Gantz, clearly includes human rights.
It is shameful enough that he believes his track record of war crimes will win over voters. But the same approach has been voiced by Israel’s new military chief of staff.
Aviv Kochavi, nicknamed the Philosopher Officer for his university studies, was inaugurated this month as the army’s latest head. In a major speech, he promised to reinvent the fabled “most moral army in the world” into a “deadly, efficient” one.
In Kochavi’s view, the rampaging military once overseen by Gantz needs to step up its game. And he is a proven expert in destruction.
In the early stages of the Palestinian uprising that erupted in 2000, the Israeli army struggled to find a way to crush Palestinian fighters concealed in densely crowded cities under occupation.
Kochavi came up with an ingenious solution in Nablus, where he was brigade commander. The army would invade a Palestinian home, then smash through its walls, moving from house to house, burrowing through the city unseen. Palestinian space was not only usurped, but destroyed inside-out.
Gantz, the former general hoping to lead the government, and Kochavi, the general leading its army, are symptoms of just how complete the militaristic logic that has overtaken Israel really is. An Israel determined to become a modern-day Sparta.
Should he bring about Netanyahu’s downfall, Gantz, like his predecessor politician-generals, will turn out to be a hollow peace-maker. He was trained to understand only strength, zero-sum strategies, conquest and destruction, not compassion or compromise.
More dangerously, Gantz’s glorification of his military past is likely to reinforce in Israelis’ minds the need not for peace but for more of the same: support for an ultranationalist right that bathes itself in an ethnic supremacist philosophy and dismisses any recognition of the Palestinians as human beings with rights.
Jonathan Cook won the Martha Gellhorn Special Prize for Journalism. His latest books are “Israel and the Clash of Civilisations: Iraq, Iran and the Plan to Remake the Middle East” (Pluto Press) and “Disappearing Palestine: Israel’s Experiments in Human Despair” (Zed Books). His new website is jonathan-cook.net.
Other posts by Jonathan Cook.
Related: 10 dec 2018 Senior Israeli Lawmaker: “The Israeli army has enough bullets for every Palestinian.”
19 oct 2018 Ex-Israel PM: We killed 300 Palestinians in 3 minutes

By: Ramzy Baroud
Ramzy Baroud is a journalist, author and editor of Palestine Chronicle. His latest book is The Last Earth: A Palestinian Story (Pluto Press, London, 2018). He earned a Ph.D. in Palestine Studies from the University of Exeter and is a Non-Resident Scholar at Orfalea Center for Global and International Studies, UCSB.
Forget the hype. Israel’s ‘security technology’ has nothing to do with why some African countries are eager to normalize relations with Israel.
What is it that Israel is able to offer in the technology sector to Chad, Mali and others that the United States, the European Union, China, Russia, India, Brazil, South Africa and others cannot?
The answer is ‘nil’, and the moment we accept such a truth is the moment we start to truly understand why Chad, a Muslim-majority country, has just renewed its diplomatic ties with Israel. And, by extension, the same logic applies to Mali, another Muslim-majority country that is ready to normalize with Israel.
Chadian President, Idriss Deby, was in Israel last November, a trip that was touted as another Benjamin Netanyahu-engineered breakthrough by the Israeli government and its allied media.
In return, Israeli Prime Minister, Netanyahu, paid Deby a visit to N’djamena where they agreed to resume diplomatic ties. In their joint press conference, Deby spoke of ‘deals’ signed between Chad and Israel, but failed to provide more details.
Israel may try to present itself as the savior of Africa, but no matter how comparatively strong the Israeli economy is, Tel Aviv will hardly have the keys to solving the woes of Chad, Mali or any other country on the African continent.
Israeli media is actively contributing to the fanfare that has accompanied Netanyahu’s ‘scramble for Africa’, and is now turning its focus to preparations under way for another ‘historic visit”, that of Malian President, Soumeylou Boubeye Maiga, to Israel in the “coming weeks”.
Netanyahu is keen to schedule Maiga’s trip just before the April 9 date, when Israelis go to the polls to vote in the country’s early general elections.
Israel’s motives to normalize with Africa are inspired by the same reasoning behind Netanyahu's international outreach to South America and other regions in the global South.
Despite the Trump-Netanyahu love affair at the moment, Israel has no faith in the future of the US in the Middle East region. The current Donald Trump administration, as the previous Barack Obama administration, has made clear and calculated moves to slowly deploy out of the region and ‘pivot’ elsewhere.
This has alerted Netanyahu to the fact that Israel would have to diversify its alliances as an American veto at the United Nations Security Council is no longer a guarantor to Israel’s regional dominance.
For years, Netanyahu has pursued an alternative course, which has become the only path for Israel to escape its international isolation. Unfortunately for Palestinians, Israel’s new strategy, of seeking separate alliances with UN General Assembly members seems to be paying dividends. Israel now hopes that other countries that have historically stood on the side of Palestinians - voting for Palestinian rights as a bloc at the UN - will follow the Chad and Mali examples.
The struggle between Israel and Arab countries in Africa, according to Dan Avni - a top Israeli Foreign Ministry official during the 1950s and ‘60s - is “a fight of life and death for us.” That statement was made during a time that the US had not fully and ardently committed to the Israeli colonial project, and Israel was in a desperate need to break away from its isolation.
Following the expansion of the Israeli colonial project in Palestine and other Arab countries after the 1967 war, the US unconditional political, economic and military support for Israel has addressed many of Israel’s perceived vulnerabilities, empowering it to become the uncontested bully of the whole region. At the time, neither Africa mattered, nor did the rest of the international community.
But now, a new Great Game is changing the rules once more. Not only is the US losing its grip in the Middle East and Africa - thanks to the rise of Russian and Chinese influences, respectively - Washington is also busy elsewhere, desperate to sustain its dwindling global hegemony for a bit longer.
Although ties between Washington and Tel Aviv are still strong, Israeli leaders are aware of a vastly changing political landscape. According to Israeli calculation, the ‘fight of life and death’ is drawing near, once again.
The answer? Enticing poor countries, in Africa and elsewhere, with political support and economic promises so that they would deny Palestinians a vote at the UN.
It is no surprise that the governments of Chad [PDF] and Mali are struggling, not only economically, but also in terms of political legitimacy as well. Torn in the global struggle for dominance between the US and China, they feel pressed to make significant choices that could make the difference between their survival or demise in future upheavals.
For these countries, an alliance with Israel is a sure ticket to the Washington political club. Such membership could prove significant in terms of economic aid, political validation and, more importantly, an immunity against pesky military coups.
Considering this, those who are stuck discussing the Israeli ‘charm offensive’ in Africa based on the claim of Israel’s technological advancement and hyped water technology are missing the forest for the trees.
It is important to note that it is not the road to Tel Aviv that N’Djamena and Bamako are seeking, but rather the road to Washington itself. In Africa, as in other parts of the global South, it is often the US, not the UN that bestows and denies political legitimacy. For African leaders who enjoy no democratic credence, a handshake with Netanyahu could be equivalent to a political life insurance.
So, for now, Israel will continue to walk this fine line, usurping American resources and political support as always, while learning how to walk on its own, by developing a foreign policy that it hopes will spare it further isolation in the future.
It is yet to dawn on Israeli leaders that, perhaps, a shortcut to breaking its isolation can be achieved through respecting international law, the rights of the Palestinian people and the territorial sovereignty of its neighbors.
Diplomatic ties with Chad and Mali may garner Netanyahu a few more votes next April, but they will also contribute to the Israeli illusion that it can be an international darling and an Apartheid regime, simultaneously.
The views expressed in this article are the authors' and do not necessarily reflect Ma'an News Agency's editorial policy.
Ramzy Baroud is a journalist, author and editor of Palestine Chronicle. His latest book is The Last Earth: A Palestinian Story (Pluto Press, London, 2018). He earned a Ph.D. in Palestine Studies from the University of Exeter and is a Non-Resident Scholar at Orfalea Center for Global and International Studies, UCSB.
Forget the hype. Israel’s ‘security technology’ has nothing to do with why some African countries are eager to normalize relations with Israel.
What is it that Israel is able to offer in the technology sector to Chad, Mali and others that the United States, the European Union, China, Russia, India, Brazil, South Africa and others cannot?
The answer is ‘nil’, and the moment we accept such a truth is the moment we start to truly understand why Chad, a Muslim-majority country, has just renewed its diplomatic ties with Israel. And, by extension, the same logic applies to Mali, another Muslim-majority country that is ready to normalize with Israel.
Chadian President, Idriss Deby, was in Israel last November, a trip that was touted as another Benjamin Netanyahu-engineered breakthrough by the Israeli government and its allied media.
In return, Israeli Prime Minister, Netanyahu, paid Deby a visit to N’djamena where they agreed to resume diplomatic ties. In their joint press conference, Deby spoke of ‘deals’ signed between Chad and Israel, but failed to provide more details.
Israel may try to present itself as the savior of Africa, but no matter how comparatively strong the Israeli economy is, Tel Aviv will hardly have the keys to solving the woes of Chad, Mali or any other country on the African continent.
Israeli media is actively contributing to the fanfare that has accompanied Netanyahu’s ‘scramble for Africa’, and is now turning its focus to preparations under way for another ‘historic visit”, that of Malian President, Soumeylou Boubeye Maiga, to Israel in the “coming weeks”.
Netanyahu is keen to schedule Maiga’s trip just before the April 9 date, when Israelis go to the polls to vote in the country’s early general elections.
Israel’s motives to normalize with Africa are inspired by the same reasoning behind Netanyahu's international outreach to South America and other regions in the global South.
Despite the Trump-Netanyahu love affair at the moment, Israel has no faith in the future of the US in the Middle East region. The current Donald Trump administration, as the previous Barack Obama administration, has made clear and calculated moves to slowly deploy out of the region and ‘pivot’ elsewhere.
This has alerted Netanyahu to the fact that Israel would have to diversify its alliances as an American veto at the United Nations Security Council is no longer a guarantor to Israel’s regional dominance.
For years, Netanyahu has pursued an alternative course, which has become the only path for Israel to escape its international isolation. Unfortunately for Palestinians, Israel’s new strategy, of seeking separate alliances with UN General Assembly members seems to be paying dividends. Israel now hopes that other countries that have historically stood on the side of Palestinians - voting for Palestinian rights as a bloc at the UN - will follow the Chad and Mali examples.
The struggle between Israel and Arab countries in Africa, according to Dan Avni - a top Israeli Foreign Ministry official during the 1950s and ‘60s - is “a fight of life and death for us.” That statement was made during a time that the US had not fully and ardently committed to the Israeli colonial project, and Israel was in a desperate need to break away from its isolation.
Following the expansion of the Israeli colonial project in Palestine and other Arab countries after the 1967 war, the US unconditional political, economic and military support for Israel has addressed many of Israel’s perceived vulnerabilities, empowering it to become the uncontested bully of the whole region. At the time, neither Africa mattered, nor did the rest of the international community.
But now, a new Great Game is changing the rules once more. Not only is the US losing its grip in the Middle East and Africa - thanks to the rise of Russian and Chinese influences, respectively - Washington is also busy elsewhere, desperate to sustain its dwindling global hegemony for a bit longer.
Although ties between Washington and Tel Aviv are still strong, Israeli leaders are aware of a vastly changing political landscape. According to Israeli calculation, the ‘fight of life and death’ is drawing near, once again.
The answer? Enticing poor countries, in Africa and elsewhere, with political support and economic promises so that they would deny Palestinians a vote at the UN.
It is no surprise that the governments of Chad [PDF] and Mali are struggling, not only economically, but also in terms of political legitimacy as well. Torn in the global struggle for dominance between the US and China, they feel pressed to make significant choices that could make the difference between their survival or demise in future upheavals.
For these countries, an alliance with Israel is a sure ticket to the Washington political club. Such membership could prove significant in terms of economic aid, political validation and, more importantly, an immunity against pesky military coups.
Considering this, those who are stuck discussing the Israeli ‘charm offensive’ in Africa based on the claim of Israel’s technological advancement and hyped water technology are missing the forest for the trees.
It is important to note that it is not the road to Tel Aviv that N’Djamena and Bamako are seeking, but rather the road to Washington itself. In Africa, as in other parts of the global South, it is often the US, not the UN that bestows and denies political legitimacy. For African leaders who enjoy no democratic credence, a handshake with Netanyahu could be equivalent to a political life insurance.
So, for now, Israel will continue to walk this fine line, usurping American resources and political support as always, while learning how to walk on its own, by developing a foreign policy that it hopes will spare it further isolation in the future.
It is yet to dawn on Israeli leaders that, perhaps, a shortcut to breaking its isolation can be achieved through respecting international law, the rights of the Palestinian people and the territorial sovereignty of its neighbors.
Diplomatic ties with Chad and Mali may garner Netanyahu a few more votes next April, but they will also contribute to the Israeli illusion that it can be an international darling and an Apartheid regime, simultaneously.
The views expressed in this article are the authors' and do not necessarily reflect Ma'an News Agency's editorial policy.

Palestinian presidential spokesperson Nabil Abu Rdeineh said that Israeli Prime Minister's decision not to renew the mandate of the Temporary International Presence in Hebron (TIPH) means that "it has abandoned the implementation of agreements signed under international auspices and its obligations under these agreements, which is rejected and is unacceptable."
Abu Rdeineh said in a statement "We call on the countries sponsoring this agreement to take a clear stance from this grave Israeli position and to immediately act to pressure the Israeli government to continue implementation of the agreement as agreed and not to treat Israel as a state above the law."
He stressed that "Israel, by its disregard for all signed agreements and its refusal to abide by its obligations, persists in creating an environment for escalation in tension and chaos in the region with unpredictable results."
"This is a proof to the international community that Israel does not respect international resolutions and the agreements signed with it under international auspices. It is a continuation of the policy of Israeli escalation against our people and our land."
Meanwhile, Secretary General of the Palestine Liberation Organization's (PLO) Executive Committee, Saeb Erekat said that the U.N. should "guarantee the safety and protection of the people of Palestine" until "the end of Israel’s belligerent occupation."
Israeli Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, had announced on Monday evening that Israel will not be renewing TIPH's mandate, an international group that has been monitoring the southern occupied West Bank's city for twenty years.
TIPH is an international civilian observer group that, according to its mandate, is tasked with “monitoring and reporting efforts to maintain normal life in the city of Hebron, thus creating a sense of security among the Palestinians in Hebron.” It also reports alleged human rights abuses and violations of accords in the city between Israel and Palestinians. Observers for the group come from Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Switzerland, Italy, and Turkey. TIPH has roughly a dozen staff operating locally and an additional 64 working abroad.
Abu Rdeineh said in a statement "We call on the countries sponsoring this agreement to take a clear stance from this grave Israeli position and to immediately act to pressure the Israeli government to continue implementation of the agreement as agreed and not to treat Israel as a state above the law."
He stressed that "Israel, by its disregard for all signed agreements and its refusal to abide by its obligations, persists in creating an environment for escalation in tension and chaos in the region with unpredictable results."
"This is a proof to the international community that Israel does not respect international resolutions and the agreements signed with it under international auspices. It is a continuation of the policy of Israeli escalation against our people and our land."
Meanwhile, Secretary General of the Palestine Liberation Organization's (PLO) Executive Committee, Saeb Erekat said that the U.N. should "guarantee the safety and protection of the people of Palestine" until "the end of Israel’s belligerent occupation."
Israeli Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, had announced on Monday evening that Israel will not be renewing TIPH's mandate, an international group that has been monitoring the southern occupied West Bank's city for twenty years.
TIPH is an international civilian observer group that, according to its mandate, is tasked with “monitoring and reporting efforts to maintain normal life in the city of Hebron, thus creating a sense of security among the Palestinians in Hebron.” It also reports alleged human rights abuses and violations of accords in the city between Israel and Palestinians. Observers for the group come from Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Switzerland, Italy, and Turkey. TIPH has roughly a dozen staff operating locally and an additional 64 working abroad.

Israeli Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, announced on Monday evening that Israel will not be renewing the mandate of the Temporary International Presence in Hebron (TIPH).
TIPH has been monitoring the southern occupied West Bank's city for twenty years; the group's mandate is renewed every six months; their current mandate expires by the end of the this month.
According to Israeli news outlets, Netanyahu said in a statement “We will not allow the continuation of an international force that acts against us,”
TIPH is an international civilian observer group that, according to its mandate, is tasked with “monitoring and reporting efforts to maintain normal life in the city of Hebron, thus creating a sense of security among the Palestinians in Hebron.”
It also reports alleged human rights abuses and violations of accords in the city between Israel and Palestinians.
Observers for the group come from Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Switzerland, Italy, and Turkey. TIPH has roughly a dozen staff operating locally and an additional 64 working abroad.
The Old City of Hebron is under full military control by Israel imposing restrictions on the movement of Palestinians living there.
Between 500,000 and 600,000 Israelis live in Jewish-only settlements across occupied East Jerusalem and the West Bank in violation of international law.
The Palestinian government has no jurisdiction over Israelis in the West Bank, and acts carried out by Israeli settlers often occur in the presence of Israeli military forces who rarely act to protect Palestinian residents.
TIPH has been monitoring the southern occupied West Bank's city for twenty years; the group's mandate is renewed every six months; their current mandate expires by the end of the this month.
According to Israeli news outlets, Netanyahu said in a statement “We will not allow the continuation of an international force that acts against us,”
TIPH is an international civilian observer group that, according to its mandate, is tasked with “monitoring and reporting efforts to maintain normal life in the city of Hebron, thus creating a sense of security among the Palestinians in Hebron.”
It also reports alleged human rights abuses and violations of accords in the city between Israel and Palestinians.
Observers for the group come from Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Switzerland, Italy, and Turkey. TIPH has roughly a dozen staff operating locally and an additional 64 working abroad.
The Old City of Hebron is under full military control by Israel imposing restrictions on the movement of Palestinians living there.
Between 500,000 and 600,000 Israelis live in Jewish-only settlements across occupied East Jerusalem and the West Bank in violation of international law.
The Palestinian government has no jurisdiction over Israelis in the West Bank, and acts carried out by Israeli settlers often occur in the presence of Israeli military forces who rarely act to protect Palestinian residents.
26 jan 2019

Yehuda Biadga
Yosef Salmasa, Ilan Tefera Bhatta, Abraham Damati, all of Ethiopian descent, have died after tragic encounters with the Israel Police. Their relatives talk about the racism, their anger and the feeling of discrimination.
Most people we asked to be interviewed for this story refused to talk. They had a lot to say, but they are also concerned of the public exposure and fear police persecution. Some have lost hope and don't believe that an article in the newspaper can make a difference. After all, there were protests with tear gas, and we heard the cries in the town square. In two days, they say, you will go back to staring at your screens and forget about that young man of Ethiopian descent who was shot in the head by a police officer. A death that likely could have been avoided.
Yehuda Biadga, 24, who was shot to death last Friday, joins a too-long list of young people of Ethiopian descent who were killed under controversial circumstances in incidents involving the police.
Yosef Salmasa, Ilan Tefera Bhatta, Abraham Damati, all of Ethiopian descent, have died after tragic encounters with the Israel Police. Their relatives talk about the racism, their anger and the feeling of discrimination.
Most people we asked to be interviewed for this story refused to talk. They had a lot to say, but they are also concerned of the public exposure and fear police persecution. Some have lost hope and don't believe that an article in the newspaper can make a difference. After all, there were protests with tear gas, and we heard the cries in the town square. In two days, they say, you will go back to staring at your screens and forget about that young man of Ethiopian descent who was shot in the head by a police officer. A death that likely could have been avoided.
Yehuda Biadga, 24, who was shot to death last Friday, joins a too-long list of young people of Ethiopian descent who were killed under controversial circumstances in incidents involving the police.

Yosef Salmasa has already become a symbol in the Ethiopian community in Israel. The young man, who died in 2014 under circumstances that have not been fully clarified to this day, put a spotlight on the problematic nature of the relationship between the police and the Ethiopian Jews in the country. His 36-year-old sister, Benzi, is one of the most prominent activists in the fight against police violence.
"You can call me a mother who fears for her children's lives," she says. "As long as you are black, you will walk down the street scared. I have girls and not boys, but I'm still scared. Girls from the community also find themselves becoming punching bags. The danger is more common for boys, but this fear for our lives exists for all of us."
"I have to expose my daughters to the Israeli reality, which is not simple. It's true, there are good things in our country. But what isn't good is being quickly swept under the rug," she says. "At our house, we don't have such a rug, and I tell my girls the truth: there's a good chance you won't be liked because of the color of your skin. At the same time, I teach them not to judge others by their color, and not to panic the first them they are cursed at because they're Ethiopian."
Four months before Yosef Salmasa's death, in July 2014, he had an unfortunate encounter with the Israel Police. While he was sitting outside with his friends one evening, Salmasa was attacked by two police officers and hit with a Taser in front of his friends, with the police officers claiming he was a suspect in a break-in. A few hours later, Yosef was found lying on the road outside the Zikhron Ya'akov police station, bruised and dazed.
Later, the charges were changed from suspected break-in to the suspected assault of a police officer, but no indictment was filed against him.
But that wasn't the end of it. Yosef was never the same after the severe violence and humiliation he suffered at the hands of the police officers. His worried family decided to file a complaint with the police's Department for Internal Investigations, which in hindsight turned out to be a grave error.
No one knows what happened from the time Yosef went on a break at the vinery where he worked and until his body was found at the bottom of a cliff at a quarry in Binyamina. How did he die? The Salmasa family is still looking for the answer.
Yehuda Biadga's terrible death reopened the Salmasa family's old wound, which will likely never heal again. "The day Yehuda was killed became a day of mourning for the Ethiopian community," says Benzi. "But not just for them: It needs to be a day of mourning for the entire Israeli society. What surprises me most is that the Israel Police is not drawing any conclusions from any incident. They could've drawn concludes from Yosef's case and put their house in order."
"It's a shame only we, in the Ethiopian community, take Yehuda's case so personally—he should be seen as the son of all of us. This is a problem that affects the entire Israeli society, for we are an inseparable part of it," she says.
"Yehuda's family turned to the police for help, and in return got a body. It's tragic, and it keeps everyone awake at night. It's the cry of an entire community that is being silenced. Even the police commissioner said at the time that it's natural to suspect Ethiopian immigrants, we're the immediate suspects, so why are we surprised every time there's a new death?"
Do you also feel that the protests are not going to help?
"It's sad for me to say this, but I feel persecuted. My emotions have been running really high for four years now. I believed the police would protect me and my family, and today I realize that is not the case. There are similar cases to that of my brother and Yehuda, which were not covered by the media. It doesn't mean it's not happening, and what saddens me most is that it no longer surprises me. The system is rotten, broken, and in need of a thorough cleanup—and yes, this problem affects us all."
The lawyers who disappeared
"You can call me a mother who fears for her children's lives," she says. "As long as you are black, you will walk down the street scared. I have girls and not boys, but I'm still scared. Girls from the community also find themselves becoming punching bags. The danger is more common for boys, but this fear for our lives exists for all of us."
"I have to expose my daughters to the Israeli reality, which is not simple. It's true, there are good things in our country. But what isn't good is being quickly swept under the rug," she says. "At our house, we don't have such a rug, and I tell my girls the truth: there's a good chance you won't be liked because of the color of your skin. At the same time, I teach them not to judge others by their color, and not to panic the first them they are cursed at because they're Ethiopian."
Four months before Yosef Salmasa's death, in July 2014, he had an unfortunate encounter with the Israel Police. While he was sitting outside with his friends one evening, Salmasa was attacked by two police officers and hit with a Taser in front of his friends, with the police officers claiming he was a suspect in a break-in. A few hours later, Yosef was found lying on the road outside the Zikhron Ya'akov police station, bruised and dazed.
Later, the charges were changed from suspected break-in to the suspected assault of a police officer, but no indictment was filed against him.
But that wasn't the end of it. Yosef was never the same after the severe violence and humiliation he suffered at the hands of the police officers. His worried family decided to file a complaint with the police's Department for Internal Investigations, which in hindsight turned out to be a grave error.
No one knows what happened from the time Yosef went on a break at the vinery where he worked and until his body was found at the bottom of a cliff at a quarry in Binyamina. How did he die? The Salmasa family is still looking for the answer.
Yehuda Biadga's terrible death reopened the Salmasa family's old wound, which will likely never heal again. "The day Yehuda was killed became a day of mourning for the Ethiopian community," says Benzi. "But not just for them: It needs to be a day of mourning for the entire Israeli society. What surprises me most is that the Israel Police is not drawing any conclusions from any incident. They could've drawn concludes from Yosef's case and put their house in order."
"It's a shame only we, in the Ethiopian community, take Yehuda's case so personally—he should be seen as the son of all of us. This is a problem that affects the entire Israeli society, for we are an inseparable part of it," she says.
"Yehuda's family turned to the police for help, and in return got a body. It's tragic, and it keeps everyone awake at night. It's the cry of an entire community that is being silenced. Even the police commissioner said at the time that it's natural to suspect Ethiopian immigrants, we're the immediate suspects, so why are we surprised every time there's a new death?"
Do you also feel that the protests are not going to help?
"It's sad for me to say this, but I feel persecuted. My emotions have been running really high for four years now. I believed the police would protect me and my family, and today I realize that is not the case. There are similar cases to that of my brother and Yehuda, which were not covered by the media. It doesn't mean it's not happening, and what saddens me most is that it no longer surprises me. The system is rotten, broken, and in need of a thorough cleanup—and yes, this problem affects us all."
The lawyers who disappeared

Ilan Tefera Bhatta
Reut (not her real name) is the sister of Ilan Tefera Bhatta. Ilan, who was 23 when he died in 1997, had just completed his IDF service and was working as a security guard. He was shot 19 times by police officers who mistook him for a terrorist—all because of an unreliable report from a taxi driver who apparently had an argument with Ilan over the fare.
Three years ago, nearly a year after Yosef Salmasa died, Reut decided to go to war. "I wanted to take the investigative material and examine the evidence in the case myself. As Ilan's sister, I didn't think that would be hard to do. I approached three lawyers over the past three years, and they all disappeared as if the ground had swallowed them whole.
We told them in advance that money was not an issue. We were willing to pay whatever it took to get our parents some peace of mind and get the truth out," she says.
"They all acted the same: The first one promised to would help us, took the case, studied it and turned to the police's Department for Internal Investigations. A moment before it got to court, he disappeared. With no explanation, without telling us that he was giving up the case. He simply vanished.
When it happened the second time, I was surprised again. When it happened with the third lawyer, I realized something was wrong. Maybe they were being threatened and warned of the consequences of reopening the case. Meanwhile, my parents live with this heartbreak and grief that they will never be able to overcome," she says.
Bhatta's death happened only five years after the family made Aliyah to Israel. "We were kids and we didn't completely understand the meaning of the disaster that had befallen our family. My family remained traumatized, and I'm living with this every day. There are Amharic lamentation songs, and if you visit my parents' home, you can hear my mother humming them all day. It's been 20 years and my parents still hum songs of sorrow every day. In Ethiopia, Jews were told about how much goodness there is in the Land of Israel. But after they got here, their heart was broken and will never mend," she says.
The family, which was airlifted to Israel during Operation Solomon in 1992, has suffered several tragedies: two daughters passed away in Ethiopia—25-year-old Warka and nine-year-old Shimba. Several years after Ilan's death, his younger brother got in trouble with the police, was put under house arrest at his aunt's home, and committed suicide in the middle of the night—never knowing that the court would eventually acquit him.
"When I first heard on the radio about a young man who was shot in Bat Yam, I was sure this was a terrorist, a nationalistically motivated incident," Reut says. "But when I went on Facebook and saw the photos, and saw social media in outrage—I was shocked to learn it was an Ethiopian youth. Every time anew, we realize how trigger-happy (security forces are). When it's terrorists, the rules of engagement are studied to the last detail. What about shooting at the legs? Why was it necessary to shoot Yehuda in the head? And I ask myself, how will this police officer live with the fact he murdered a child, likely an innocent one? And how long is it all going to still be blamed on the fact we're Ethiopians? Why is the color of our skin still a reason?"
Reut's feeling of helplessness has grown stronger in recent years, since her son was born. "Some of the Ethiopian couples don't want to bring children into the world," she says. "It's crazy and sad, but you never know where (danger) can befall you and your child. All of the education and love you give him could be gone in one day because of a police officer's impulsive decision. Who can promise me that my child won't become a victim? Why did the color of my skin become a reason for fear in the country I live and raise my son in? As a mother, I fear for my child. As an Ethiopian woman in Israel, I'm afraid of the police."
'We were turned into creatures without identity'
Reut (not her real name) is the sister of Ilan Tefera Bhatta. Ilan, who was 23 when he died in 1997, had just completed his IDF service and was working as a security guard. He was shot 19 times by police officers who mistook him for a terrorist—all because of an unreliable report from a taxi driver who apparently had an argument with Ilan over the fare.
Three years ago, nearly a year after Yosef Salmasa died, Reut decided to go to war. "I wanted to take the investigative material and examine the evidence in the case myself. As Ilan's sister, I didn't think that would be hard to do. I approached three lawyers over the past three years, and they all disappeared as if the ground had swallowed them whole.
We told them in advance that money was not an issue. We were willing to pay whatever it took to get our parents some peace of mind and get the truth out," she says.
"They all acted the same: The first one promised to would help us, took the case, studied it and turned to the police's Department for Internal Investigations. A moment before it got to court, he disappeared. With no explanation, without telling us that he was giving up the case. He simply vanished.
When it happened the second time, I was surprised again. When it happened with the third lawyer, I realized something was wrong. Maybe they were being threatened and warned of the consequences of reopening the case. Meanwhile, my parents live with this heartbreak and grief that they will never be able to overcome," she says.
Bhatta's death happened only five years after the family made Aliyah to Israel. "We were kids and we didn't completely understand the meaning of the disaster that had befallen our family. My family remained traumatized, and I'm living with this every day. There are Amharic lamentation songs, and if you visit my parents' home, you can hear my mother humming them all day. It's been 20 years and my parents still hum songs of sorrow every day. In Ethiopia, Jews were told about how much goodness there is in the Land of Israel. But after they got here, their heart was broken and will never mend," she says.
The family, which was airlifted to Israel during Operation Solomon in 1992, has suffered several tragedies: two daughters passed away in Ethiopia—25-year-old Warka and nine-year-old Shimba. Several years after Ilan's death, his younger brother got in trouble with the police, was put under house arrest at his aunt's home, and committed suicide in the middle of the night—never knowing that the court would eventually acquit him.
"When I first heard on the radio about a young man who was shot in Bat Yam, I was sure this was a terrorist, a nationalistically motivated incident," Reut says. "But when I went on Facebook and saw the photos, and saw social media in outrage—I was shocked to learn it was an Ethiopian youth. Every time anew, we realize how trigger-happy (security forces are). When it's terrorists, the rules of engagement are studied to the last detail. What about shooting at the legs? Why was it necessary to shoot Yehuda in the head? And I ask myself, how will this police officer live with the fact he murdered a child, likely an innocent one? And how long is it all going to still be blamed on the fact we're Ethiopians? Why is the color of our skin still a reason?"
Reut's feeling of helplessness has grown stronger in recent years, since her son was born. "Some of the Ethiopian couples don't want to bring children into the world," she says. "It's crazy and sad, but you never know where (danger) can befall you and your child. All of the education and love you give him could be gone in one day because of a police officer's impulsive decision. Who can promise me that my child won't become a victim? Why did the color of my skin become a reason for fear in the country I live and raise my son in? As a mother, I fear for my child. As an Ethiopian woman in Israel, I'm afraid of the police."
'We were turned into creatures without identity'

Avraham Damati
Five years ago, Avraham Damati got into a fight that escalated and became violent. A phone call from one of the neighbors quickly brought the police to the scene. The neighbor who called the police claimed Avraham was holding a knife and threatening the other people involved. Avraham told the police officers that he wasn't armed, and that he found himself in the center of the fight only because he wanted to defend his younger brother.
He was handcuffed, taken to the police station, and was in jail for a month. The police claim he committed suicide while in custody, but the Damati family has been living with doubts for five years now.
"My son hated fights," says Ahuva Damati, Avraham's mother. "There are uncontrolled kids who run amok, but my Avaham was a good boy. He was the kind of boy who came home straight from school, he wouldn't even go wandering around with friends. It was only when he turned 18 that he started going out, until then he was a homebody."
"Over the past five years, I have realized that I don't know anything. I don't know anything because I don't have a lawyer, because the police refused to give me all of the details, because my son made a mistake and paid for it with his life. I don't know anything because I'm invisible, just another Ethiopian in Israel. We were turned into creatures without an identity. Avraham was only 19, he loved life more than anything," she says.
Ahuva made Aliyah in the early 1990s. The utopia she was promised in Ethiopian became a nightmare that has been going on for years, and not just because she lost her son under unclear circumstances.
"I had nine children, today there are eight. One of my sons is supposed to celebrate his 27th birthday, but instead we will mark his sixth year in prison," she says. "Another son of mine is also behind bars. And who am I? A single mother who tried to raise her children the best way she could."
"My youngest son is eight. He asks me almost every day: 'Mom, why do they call me "black" instead of using my name?' How can I explain to him that in the State of Israel, if an Ethiopian raises so much as a finger, he will be attacked and likely arrested or shot as well," she says.
"This country is not mine, I no longer believe in it. The truth is, I've already forgotten why we came here. An Ethiopian in Israel has no identity, and it pains me greatly. Our children go to the army, serve the country, pay taxes, but they are left behind because of their color."
How did you feel when you heard about Yehuda Biadga?
"I was furious. My body temperature went up, and I felt like I was becoming sick. His mother turned to an institution she believed would protect her, she turned to the Israel Police. She didn't imagine she would get back a body. What's left is only to feel bad for the mother, and cry over another victim," Ahuva says.
"Today I understand that the Ethiopian community is defenseless, and it is time we wake up. Meanwhile, many Ethiopian parents cry over the children they lost, or visit them in prison. It's time to change this reality."
The Israel Police offered the following response: "Contrary to what has been claimed, the Israel Police provides policing services, carries out enforcement and provides protection and security in a fair and equal manner, regardless of nationality, culture, religion or skin color. The cases mentioned in the article, of which we did not receive the full details, happened many years ago and do not represent the connection built in recent years between the police and the (Ethiopian) community.
"As part of an in-depth examination done in recent years, the police initiated a plan of action that is currently being implemented and is already bearing fruit. Among other things, a solution has been found to the issue of over-policing; dozens of criminal cases opened for Ethiopian youth were closed; there is regular dialogue with leaders of the community; all police officers have been trained on how to act facing the wide variety of communities and sectors that make up Israeli society; and there are dozens of community police officers, who were especially trained to operate inside communities and deal with the prevention and resolutions of problems.
"We regret the unjust feelings and generalizations expressed in the article. At the same time, alongside the continuation of determined enforcement of the law and the prevention of crime, we are committed to continue acting together with the representatives of the community to increase the trust among Ethiopians and to provide the best service and security to all citizens of the State of Israel."
Five years ago, Avraham Damati got into a fight that escalated and became violent. A phone call from one of the neighbors quickly brought the police to the scene. The neighbor who called the police claimed Avraham was holding a knife and threatening the other people involved. Avraham told the police officers that he wasn't armed, and that he found himself in the center of the fight only because he wanted to defend his younger brother.
He was handcuffed, taken to the police station, and was in jail for a month. The police claim he committed suicide while in custody, but the Damati family has been living with doubts for five years now.
"My son hated fights," says Ahuva Damati, Avraham's mother. "There are uncontrolled kids who run amok, but my Avaham was a good boy. He was the kind of boy who came home straight from school, he wouldn't even go wandering around with friends. It was only when he turned 18 that he started going out, until then he was a homebody."
"Over the past five years, I have realized that I don't know anything. I don't know anything because I don't have a lawyer, because the police refused to give me all of the details, because my son made a mistake and paid for it with his life. I don't know anything because I'm invisible, just another Ethiopian in Israel. We were turned into creatures without an identity. Avraham was only 19, he loved life more than anything," she says.
Ahuva made Aliyah in the early 1990s. The utopia she was promised in Ethiopian became a nightmare that has been going on for years, and not just because she lost her son under unclear circumstances.
"I had nine children, today there are eight. One of my sons is supposed to celebrate his 27th birthday, but instead we will mark his sixth year in prison," she says. "Another son of mine is also behind bars. And who am I? A single mother who tried to raise her children the best way she could."
"My youngest son is eight. He asks me almost every day: 'Mom, why do they call me "black" instead of using my name?' How can I explain to him that in the State of Israel, if an Ethiopian raises so much as a finger, he will be attacked and likely arrested or shot as well," she says.
"This country is not mine, I no longer believe in it. The truth is, I've already forgotten why we came here. An Ethiopian in Israel has no identity, and it pains me greatly. Our children go to the army, serve the country, pay taxes, but they are left behind because of their color."
How did you feel when you heard about Yehuda Biadga?
"I was furious. My body temperature went up, and I felt like I was becoming sick. His mother turned to an institution she believed would protect her, she turned to the Israel Police. She didn't imagine she would get back a body. What's left is only to feel bad for the mother, and cry over another victim," Ahuva says.
"Today I understand that the Ethiopian community is defenseless, and it is time we wake up. Meanwhile, many Ethiopian parents cry over the children they lost, or visit them in prison. It's time to change this reality."
The Israel Police offered the following response: "Contrary to what has been claimed, the Israel Police provides policing services, carries out enforcement and provides protection and security in a fair and equal manner, regardless of nationality, culture, religion or skin color. The cases mentioned in the article, of which we did not receive the full details, happened many years ago and do not represent the connection built in recent years between the police and the (Ethiopian) community.
"As part of an in-depth examination done in recent years, the police initiated a plan of action that is currently being implemented and is already bearing fruit. Among other things, a solution has been found to the issue of over-policing; dozens of criminal cases opened for Ethiopian youth were closed; there is regular dialogue with leaders of the community; all police officers have been trained on how to act facing the wide variety of communities and sectors that make up Israeli society; and there are dozens of community police officers, who were especially trained to operate inside communities and deal with the prevention and resolutions of problems.
"We regret the unjust feelings and generalizations expressed in the article. At the same time, alongside the continuation of determined enforcement of the law and the prevention of crime, we are committed to continue acting together with the representatives of the community to increase the trust among Ethiopians and to provide the best service and security to all citizens of the State of Israel."