Jamal Hamdeh, age 29, medic, resident of Nablus.

I have worked as a medic for the Palestinian Red Crescent for seven years. Last Sunday [11 January], around 7:30 A.M., I left the Red Crescent headquarters with Majdi Saruji, the ambulance driver. We picked up an eight-month-old child in Nablus who had to go to the hospital in Ramallah. She had a heart problem and was scheduled to undergo surgery the next day. After picking up the infant, we drove to Beit Furik to pick up a patient who we were supposed to take to al-Moqassad Hospital, in Jerusalem.

We reached the Beit Furik checkpoint around 8:00 A.M. The soldiers checked our documents and searched the ambulance. We crossed the checkpoint and continued on our way. At the Z'atara checkpoint, the soldiers checked the ambulance and our documents, which took around fifteen minutes, and then let us pass. When we reached a-Luban, we saw an army jeep parked in the middle of the road with three soldiers nearby. They had set up a surprise checkpoint. One soldier was standing between the trees, another soldier was standing around four meters from the vehicles, aiming his rifle at them, and the third soldier was searching the vehicles that wanted to pass. At the time, there were about ten to fifteen cars waiting to pass.

I drove up to the soldier who was checking the cars. He asked me, “Where are you going? Who is the patient?” I told him that I was on the way to hospital in Ramallah, and that I had two patients. He checked our ID cards and ordered me to take the patients out of the ambulance. We spoke in Hebrew and English. The patient from Beit Furik was in a wheelchair. I told the soldier that he cannot walk, but the soldier insisted that I take him out. I put him on a stretcher and took him out. The soldier searched the ambulance and told me, “Go back. You are not allowed to pass.” We moved back and stopped behind the line of cars. I called Red Crescent headquarters and told them what happened. They told me to wait a bit and that they would call the Red Cross. About a half an hour later, the Red Cross called us. They told us to try again. We drove up to the jeep. The soldier said, “We searched your ambulance, didn't we?” I answered that they had. He replied, in Hebrew: “OK. You can pass.”

When we got to the area of ''Iyun al-Haramiyah, we encountered another surprise checkpoint – an army jeep with three or four soldiers. Around fifteen cars were waiting to pass. I told the soldier that we had patients in the ambulance and described their condition. He looked inside and told me, in Hebrew, “Go ahead.”

We continued on our way. When we approached Ofra, an Israeli settlement, an army jeep was parked in the middle of the road. Around fourteen cars were waiting to pass. I drove toward the jeep. When we were about three meters away, one of the soldiers called out to us, in Arabic, to stop. I think he was the commander, because he had white stripes on the shoulder of his uniform. He was fair-skinned, heavy-set, and about 180 centimeters tall. Majdi, the driver, got out of the ambulance and walked over to the commander. The commander kicked him in the leg. Majdi did not respond, handed over the documents, and came back to the ambulance.

The commander ordered me in Hebrew to get out of the ambulance. When I got out, he told me to open the side door. I did what he said, and then he asked me: “Where are you taking the patients?” Majdi replied, “To Ramallah.” The commander replied, “Go back.” Majdi said, “We have been through three checkpoints, and the soldiers searched the ambulance. How can I go back?” The whole conversation was conducted in Hebrew.

The commander, who was still standing next to me, said, “”Do you have a problem?” I said, “No, no.” He punched me hard in the face. He grabbed me and smashed my head against the ambulance. I said in Hebrew, “What happened? What's going on?” He shouted at me, “You bastard,” and raised his hand to hit me. I grabbed it. I regret doing that, because they went crazy with anger. Another soldier kicked me, knocking me over. It happened so fast that before I realized what was going on, I was on the ground. One of the soldiers kicked me in the back, picked me up, and then all four of them began to kick me in the back, legs, and the rest of my body.

They beat me for around fifteen minutes. Then, one of the soldiers bound my hands with plastic handcuffs. He pushed me down onto my knees and I stayed like that. From time to time, the commander came over and slapped, hit, or kicked me. He also swore at me. While I was sitting there on my knees, one of the soldiers told Majdi to stand around two meters from me until they finished searching the ambulance.

The soldiers took the patients out of the ambulance and then searched it. They told Majdi: “Get out of here.” Majdi would not leave without me. He told them that he could not go alone because he would not be able to take care of the two patients in the ambulance. The commander grabbed Majdi's hand and shoved him against the ambulance. Majdi called the Red Crescent and told them what had happened. He was told to continue on to Ramallah and that they would take care of me. I was not far from the ambulance and could hear the conversation. Majdi drove to Ramallah and I stayed where I was. The soldiers did not let any of the other vehicles pass.

About a half an hour after Majdi left, a jeep with two soldiers in it drove from the south. One of the soldiers came over to me and said, in Hebrew, “you played the tough guy by hitting the commander.” I told him that I did not hit the commander. He hit me twice in the neck and then blindfolded me. Two soldiers dragged me for a distance of about twenty meters. They threw me into the jeep. The jeep began to drive and within three minutes we were at the Ofra settlement. I asuume that it was Ofra that they took me to, because it was a very short ride. The soldiers sat me down. My eyes were still blindfolded and my hands cuffed. I heard someone ask why I was there, and someone responded, in Arabic, “He played the tough guy and hit a commander.” I should mention that I was wearing a medic's uniform, and it was clear that I worked for a medical organization. Every time that soldiers heard I had hit a commander, they kicked me. Their actions show that they were only interested in humiliating me.

I stayed there until 1:15 P.M. My neck, head, and legs really hurt. The cuffs really hurt, and I asked a soldier to loosen them. He refused and said, in Arabic, “You will stay here for three hours, and then I'll remove the cuffs.” After a half an hour passed, the soldier who spoke Arabic came over to me and removed the cuffs and the blindfold. I saw that I was in big yard. There were caravans and concrete blocks. I did not see any settlers. The soldier told me, “Go away! I don't want to see your face again. And don't play the tough guy anymore.”

I was barely able to walk. I reached the village 'Ein Yabrod, where I called the Red Crescent, and they sent an ambulance. The ambulance took me to Refidiyah Hospital, in Nablus. The staff examined me, took X-rays, and gave me a shot to ease the pain. The doctor told me to rest at home for a week, until I felt better. Now, eight days after the incident, my knees, thighs, and back still hurt.

Jamal Hussein Abu Hamdeh is 29 years old . He is married, works as a medic, and is a resident of Nablus. The testimony was taken by Salma a-Deb'i on 18 January 2004.