Testimony: Soldiers occupy the Kasab family’s house, beat family members and detain the father and three sons, Jan. '09

'Izzat Kasab, pensioner

I am a pensioner. I worked for the Palestinian Authority, where I was a civil-defense officer.

My family lives in a two-storey building, two hundred meters behind the automobile market in Gaza City. My wife Fatma and I live on the second floor with our children: Rim, 33, Ahmad, 25, Mahmoud, 23, Jalal, 22, Ibrahim and Sa’ed, both 20, Raja, 15, and Sa’id, 26, with his wife and their baby. Our floor, which is 160 square meters, has four rooms and bathrooms. On the ground floor live my son Rami, his wife and their two small children, and my son Muhammad, his wife and their two small children. The building is surrounded by plots of farmland, a garage, and a few houses.

On Sunday, 27 December 2008, around 11:30 A.M., the Israeli air force began a massive attack on security services’ headquarters in the Gaza Strip. The bombing continued a few days. During that time, there were rumors that the Israeli army intended to send in ground troops, and the people were frightened, especially those who live near the border and near security services’ headquarters. Some of my sons – Jalal, Mahmoud, Ahmad, and Sa’id – got worried and went, on Friday [2 January], to stay in my brother Sa’ed’s house on a-Nafaq Street, near the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood, because his house is further from the Israel border. I stayed in our house with my wife and the rest of the family, a total of sixteen people.

The next day [3 January], at around 8:30 A. M., I heard planes and then tanks coming into our neighborhood. We stayed in the house. We heard on the radio that the occupation forces had begun a ground operation in the Gaza Strip. We all stayed on the ground floor because we were afraid they would fire at us or harm us in another way.

The following day [4 January], the electric power was cut off, and as a result, we also had no water. We heard planes and tanks. To avoid running out of food, we decided to eat only two meals a day: breakfast and a meal in the late afternoon. We tried not to move about in the house because we were afraid soldiers would see us and break into the house or fire at us.

We continued like that until Wednesday night [7 January]. Around 10:00 P.M., I heard the sound of a big hammer banging on the walls of the house. Muhammad immediately got up and opened the door of the house. A few soldiers, whose faces were painted black, entered with a dog. They spoke to us in English. They told Muhammad to go in front of them up to the second floor and open the door. A few soldiers went with Muhammad and a few came into where we were. For about ten minutes, they stood next to the staircase, and then came and took Ibrahim outside. They interrogated him for about two hours, after which he came back to us. We saw the soldiers had beaten him. I thought that since the soldiers had already interrogated Muhammad and Ibrahim, everything would be all right. The soldiers took our ID cards and stayed in our house.

Early the next morning [8 January], a few soldiers came into the room where we were and told Ibrahim to go with them up to the second floor. A few minutes later, I heard Ibrahim cry out in pain. Apparently, the soldiers beat him. After about two hours passed, soldiers came and took Muhammad to the second floor too. I sat there, unable to do anything, worrying about my sons. About five hours later, the soldiers came back and told me to go with them up to the second floor. They asked me questions about my neighbors and about Hamas. I told them I work for the Palestinian Authority of Muhammad Abbas, and that neither I nor my sons are connected to Hamas. Then the soldiers beat me. I told them I have a heart condition, but they beat and kicked me for about half an hour. I cried out and they told me to shut up.

Then the soldiers picked me up and took me down the steps to the ground floor. I was in terrible shape. When they got to the door of the room, they threw me onto the floor. My wife, my daughters, and my daughters-in-law picked me up, laid me down on a mattress, and began to resuscitate me and shake a towel in front of my face to help me breathe. I asked them to bring my medication. I was exhausted and was in pain from the blows. Hadil, Muhammad’s wife, asked the soldiers in English to let her bring the medicine from the other room. It took about half an hour before the soldiers let her go up and get the medicine. When she returned, she said that Muhammad was in one of the bathrooms and Ibrahim was in the other one, and that the bedroom had been turned upside down and the windows were broken.

The soldiers who stood by the door of the room we were in didn't let us leave the room. When we asked if we could go to the bathroom, it took them about half an hour before they let us, and even then they stood outside the bathroom door. If the person didn’t come out quickly, they knocked on the door and told him to come out. We asked them for drinking water, but they didn't give us any.
On Friday morning [9 January], soldiers came and told my son Sa’ed to walk in front of them up to the second floor. He was barefoot. After a few minutes, we heard Ibrahim, Muhammad, and Sa’ed shouting, “Father, father.”  Apparently, the soldiers were beating them. I was lying on the mattress and couldn’t do anything to help them or protect them, because soldiers were at the doorway and made sure we didn't go out. Muhammad’s wife and his small children also heard the shouts and began to cry. We were helpless.

It seemed that the beatings were increasing, and my daughter Rim said to the soldiers, “Leave my brothers alone.” One of the soldiers hit her right in front of my eyes. He pushed her and then left the room, came back with a club, and began to beat her all over her body. Then he beat her also with his helmet, and Rim fell to the floor. The soldier aimed his weapon at us and said, “I’ll shoot you if you move.” I saw Rim was in pain, and I fainted. My wife asked the soldiers to help me or take me to hospital. The soldiers said they would take me to hospital and removed me from the house.

After that, the soldiers brought Muhammad, Ibrahim, and Sa’ed out too. They were blindfolded and their hands were tied. The soldiers also blindfolded me and tied my hands. Rim came and helped me walk. My children and I walked in the street, the soldiers behind us. While we walked, the soldiers continued to beat my three sons, who cried out in pain. The soldiers told them to shut up and swore at them and at Allah. They took us to a house about 130 meters from our house, which overlooks Salah a-Din Street. It was 10:00 A.M. The soldier ordered us to go into the house and sit under the staircase. Then they beat us. After that, they ordered Rim to leave but not to return to our house. Later, I learned that she walked by herself about seven 700 meters down the street to a house on Salah a-Din Street, where she stayed for a day. Then she went to the house of my brother, who lives in Gaza City.

After the soldiers beat us, they forced us to walk, again, in front of them, toward a tank that was about 100 meters from the house in which we had been. It was Friday, about 1:00 P.M. or so. I heard the sound of tanks. The soldiers ordered me and my three sons to get onto a tank. We rode in the tank, blindfolded and our hands tied, for about three hours. It was very uncomfortable. We bumped into each other, and into the tank, mostly in the head. It was a long and exhausting ride.

Then the tank stopped and the soldiers told us to get out. They ordered me to sit down on something hard, a rock I think. I sat on my knees. In front of me was a large projector that I could see even though my eyes were covered. I sat like that for about half an hour. Then a soldier came and ordered me to get up and walk in front of him. When I stopped, I heard two soldiers talking with each other. One of them asked the other to remove my blindfold. When he did, I saw that I was in an office with a computer and a large, powerful projector. The soldier asked somebody if he knew me. I didn't see whom he asked. The voice answered, “No, I don’t.” I think somebody, maybe a collaborator, was sitting behind the projector. The voice said I was not the wanted person. After that, the soldier pulled me out of the room. He blindfolded me and ordered me to sit on gravel with my hands bound in front of me, my back bent over, and my head down. My knees, back, and hands hurt. I am an old and sick man, and it was very hard for me to sit in that position. I was also very cold. It was an open area, with a cold wind.

I sat like that for about an hour and then a soldier came, grabbed my hand and dragged me 50 meters to a room. He removed the blindfold and ordered me to sit down. A doctor with a stethoscope was in the room. He checked my blood pressure and my whole body and then ordered me to undress. I undressed and told him I had a heart condition. Then I got dressed and the soldier blindfolded me, took me to another place, and ordered me to sit there. It felt like a cell for solitary confinement. It was about 1½ meters square.

About an hour later, I banged on the walls of the cell and a soldier came. “What do you want?”, he asked, and I said, “I want to go to the bathroom.” Fifteen minutes later, a soldier came and told me to walk in front of him. We got to the bathroom and he removed my blindfold. I said, “Take off the cuffs,” but he refused. I said, “How can I urinate if my hands are bound?” and he said, “You’ll manage.” I tried a few times and told him I couldn’t, and that he should remove the cuffs and put them on after I finished urinating, but he refused and continued to stand behind me. I barely managed to lower my training pants and urinate. My hands hurt from the cuffs because they get tighter when you put pressure on them. After I urinated, the soldier blindfolded me and took me back to the cell.

A few hours later, I felt cold and called for a soldier again. A soldier came and asked what I wanted. I told him I was cold and wanted a blanket to warm my chest because I’m sick. He left. About ten minutes later, he returned, opened the cell, threw a blanket on me, and closed the door. I covered the upper part of my body with it, which was hard because my hands were cuffed.

Two hours later, a soldier came and took me somewhere. He removed the cuffs and blindfold and ordered me to go into a big room. About thirty people were in the room. I sat on a mattress about ten centimeters thick. Some young men gave me four blankets, and I covered myself with them. It was very cold.

They left me there for four days. On the fourth day, a soldier came and told me to get up. He tied my hands, blindfolded me, and led me to a room. I sat down and he took off my blindfold. I saw he was an officer. He asked me if I was in Hamas. I said I wasn’t, and that I was a pensioner who had worked in the Palestinian Authority, and had come from Jordan after the peace agreement with Israel. I told him that if my children or I were in Hamas, we would have left the house before the ground operation began. He asked me, “How do we destroy Hamas?” I answered, “If you open the crossings and let people live, not a single person will fight you.” He said, “We’ll destroy Hamas, and then you’ll be released from jail because you are a prisoner of war.” I said, “I was at home and you arrested me inside my home, and not in combat.” He said, “Allah willing, there will be peace and you’ll get out.” “Allah willing, there will be peace,” I replied.

After that, a soldier came, blindfolded me, and took me to a yard full of gravel, where I stayed for half an hour. Then he took me back to the big room. I sat there. I had to take my heart medication, but I didn’t have it with me. I drank a bit of water and ate a little. I remained there for two days. The soldiers let us go outside for half an hour in the morning and half an hour in the evening. They barely let us leave the room to go to the bathroom. One night, a soldier came, blindfolded me, and took me. I felt that somebody else was also next to me. The soldier took us somewhere and ordered us to sit on our knees. I think it was the same yard I had been taken to previously. Then the soldier took me someplace else, where he fingerprinted me. Then he took me to a prefabricated structure that had no detainees. He removed the blindfold and cuffs and told me to sit down. He left. I was exhausted and very cold.

Half an hour later, the soldier returned and took me, blindfolded and hands bound, to a vehicle and told me to get in. Two soldiers sat next to me. We drove and when the vehicle stopped, the soldiers told me to get out. I went with them to a room, where they fingerprinted me again. Then a soldier took me to a large room, three meters square. They removed the blindfold and cuffs, and I sat down. There were three detainees inside, an elderly man among them. They said we were in the Negev prison. I remained in that room for four days. They let us go to the bathroom only twice a day, in the morning and in the evening, so I didn’t eat or drink much.

After four days passed, a soldier came, bound my hands and blindfolded me. Other soldiers did the same thing to one of the young detainees who were with me. They told us to go with them and get into a vehicle. We drove for three hours to a place where they took my fingerprints again. I asked one of the soldiers where we were going, and he said they were releasing us. I realized I was going home. I asked him if he knew what had happened to my three sons. He said that he didn't. I began to think and worry about them.

A soldier took me to a room and told me to stay there with the young man. We stayed there until the morning. In the morning, soldiers came, bound our hands, blindfolded us, and ordered us to get into a vehicle. We drove for a few hours. Then the soldiers removed our blindfolds and cuffs, and I saw I was at Erez Crossing. It was Tuesday, 20 January, at 8:30 P.M. We stood there for an hour, and then I asked a soldier: “How’ll we get home at night? We’re afraid somebody will shoot us or suspect us of something.” She didn't reply. Then a soldier came and told us to leave through the gate which says “To Gaza” in Arabic.

The young man and I left the crossing. We didn't see where we were going. There were sand, stones, and concrete. We walked like blind men and were very frightened. I recited prayers out loud and stopped a few times to rest because I was exhausted from the walking, the cold, and the illnesses I suffer from.

We kept walking until we reached a-Nada Towers, in the northern section of Beit Hanun. We came across some young men. The young man with me asked to use a cell phone. He called his uncle, who came by car and took me home. I saw that parts of the house had been damaged. I think that the soldiers made holes in the walls so that snipers could fire through them. I didn't find anybody at home. I called from a neighbor’s cell phone to my sons and they came by car to take me to my brother Sa’ed’s house, on a-Nafaq Street. My whole family was there, except for three of my sons, who are still in jail for no reason.

During my detention, I felt humiliated and suffered a lot. I am an elderly and sick man, but that didn't help me. It didn't help me that I’m a peace-loving person. The occupiers came and took over my house by force, detained me and my sons, used us as human shields, interrogated us, confiscated my ID card, and continue to hold my sons in jail.

'Izzat 'Omar Muhammad Kasab, 62, married with ten children, is a Palestinian Authority pensioner and a resident of a-Zeitun neighborhood Gaza City. His testimony was given to Muhammad Sabah at the witness's house on 25 January 2009.