Testimonies

Ahlam Nasser, paramedic

Yesterday [Tuesday, 12 December], around 9:30 A.M., I received a call to go to the hospital in Ramallah to transport nine-year-old Mujahed a-Shati to hospital in Jerusalem . We know the child because he has cancer of the blood and we have transported him several times to Augusta-Victoria Hospital , in Jerusalem , to get a blood transfusion. Bassem Sadeqah, 29, who drove the ambulance, Wafa 'Adwan, 22, a volunteer, and I started on our way, and within five minutes we were at the hospital in Ramallah. Mujahed was waiting with his mother. I don't recall her name, but I know that she is twenty-nine years old and that she has a permit to enter Jerusalem to accompany her son. She gave her ID card and the entry permit to Bassem for him to give to soldiers at the checkpoints. We placed the stretcher on which the boy was lying into the ambulance and left.

We drove via the Beit El checkpoint, which we call the [Military] Court checkpoint. The soldiers checked the ID cards and looked at the child. Bassem told the soldiers about the child's condition. They let us pass without delaying us. In about fifteen minutes, we reached the Hizma checkpoint, where one of soldiers motioned us to stop 10-15 meters from the checkpoint. Bassem stopped and two soldiers came over to us. The only thing I remember about them is that they were short. One of them spoke to Bassem in Hebrew. I speak Hebrew a bit. I understood that the soldier asked Bassem where we were going and who the patient was. Bassem said that we were transporting a child who had cancer to Jerusalem for treatment. The soldier said the case wasn't an emergency, and asked if we had a permit. Bassem said that it was an emergency and that the child needed a blood transfusion as soon as possible, because the time for the transfusion had passed, and that we had to take him to the hospital immediately. Bassem showed the soldier the mother's permit and her ID card, our ID cards, and the cards showing we are Red Crescent employees. He took the documents and quickly glanced at them, gave them back, and said, "You don't have permits." He was referring to the ambulance team. "And you are forbidden to enter. You can drop off the patient and call for an Israeli ambulance to come and transport him." Bassem told the soldier: "The woman does not have enough money to pay for an Israeli ambulance." A Magen David Adom ambulance costs about NIS 300-400. The Red Crescent doesn't charge anything to transport a patient. The soldier said: "All right. If she doesn't have money to pay, there is no need for her to receive treatment in Israel ." He ordered us to leave. We took our ID cards, Bassem turned the ambulance around, and we left. We were at the checkpoint for about ten minutes.

Bassem drove to the 'Anata checkpoint, arriving there at 10:18. Three cars were in front of us. After about three minutes, our turn came and a Border Police officer, a short, slim woman, dark-skinned, with straight, black hair, came over to us. She was dressed in the olive-green uniform of the Border Police. She came over to my side and opened the side door of the ambulance. She looked at the child and the mother, and asked in Hebrew for everybody's [ID] cards and permits. We took out our ID cards, and the mother also took out her permit, and we handed them to the officer. She apparently intended to search us and the inside of the ambulance and let us cross, because she asked Bassem to get out and open the ambulance's rear door. Suddenly, another Border Police officer got out of a passenger car that was parked on the sidewalk next to the checkpoint. He was wearing a Border Police uniform with an officer's insignia on his shoulder. He was tall, had a large build, was dark-skinned, had short, black hair, and looked a bit over twenty years old. He called to the female officer and she went over to him. The officer with the insignia took the ID cards. The two of them were standing about two to three meters from the ambulance. I heard him tell her in Hebrew: "A Palestinian ambulance is not allowed to enter Israel . Call an Israeli ambulance for them to take the patient." I heard the conversation and understood what was said. While sitting in the ambulance, I said in Arabic: "Before you order us to go back, take a look at the child, and then decide whether to make us turn around."

He told us to remove the child and put him into an Israeli ambulance. Bassem repeated what he had said at the previous checkpoint, that the patient did not have enough money for an Israeli ambulance. The officer ordered us to turn around and go back. We asked him to let us make a few telephone calls to officials at the Red Crescent to coordinate things. We had not coordinated the matter because we had always crossed without a problem. He began to shout and curse at us. I don't want to repeat what he said. I told him: "Shut up and don't swear at us." He threw the documents at us, and ordered us to turn around and go back. We wanted to leave, but we delayed a bit while picking up the documents from the floor of the ambulance. In a temper, the officer opened the door next to me and ordered us to give him the documents again. We handed them over to him, and he ordered us to get out of the ambulance. When I refused, he cursed me and my mother, and spit in my face. We started to shout at him. I told him, "Watch you mouth, and don't swear or spit at me." He left and went to the checkpoint, holding the documents. He went into a small room, which was apparently the communications room.

About five minutes later, he came back to us and ordered me to get out of the ambulance. He said: "The Police will be here in a few seconds to arrest you." I told him: "When the Police arrive, I will obey, but now I am not going to get out of the ambulance." He cursed at me again, and I thought he would also spit in my face, as he did before, and I closed the window in his face. He went back to the room.

Two minutes passed, and then another Border Police officer came over to us. He was short and slim and was dark-skinned. I think he was in his early twenties. He knocked on the window and said politely in Arabic, "Excuse me, open the window. I want to talk to you." When I opened the window, he told me that I was under arrest and that I was forbidden to leave the checkpoint. He ordered me to get out of the ambulance, and added that the ambulance crew could leave if they wanted. I told him I wasn't going to get out, and that the rest of the crew was staying where they were. .He returned to the communications room. He had our documents. A minute later, the commander came out of the room and called to the female officer and another police officer. He, too, was short and slim, dark-skinned, and in his early twenties. He had a grey uniform on. They came over to the ambulance. The commander forcibly opened the door next to me and began to pull me out and hit me. The other two joined in, and the three of them beat me and tried to pull me out of the ambulance. Bassem and Wafa pulled me to try to prevent the Border Police from dragging me out. I was in a tough situation: the police officers were beating me and pulling me out, while my friends were pulling me into the ambulance. This went on for a few minutes until the commander left and went over to Bassem. He opened the door next to Bassem, grabbed him by the throat and began to pull him out, beating him with his hands as he did.

The commander also assaulted the volunteer, who was sitting in the middle. He punched her a few times. The two Border Police officers continued to try to pull me out and to beat me, and were swearing at me. I don't deny that we tried to repel their blows and protect ourselves. I was hit hard in the stomach, which hurt a lot, and I responded and smacked the soldier in the chest. The sick child shook in fear and cried out loudly. About seven minutes after they began to assault us, they backed off and ordered the mother and child to get out and take a taxi on the other side of the checkpoint to get to Jerusalem . The mother and child got out of the ambulance and crossed the checkpoint. I don't know what happened to them after that.

The police officers went back to their room, and we remained inside the ambulance. We closed the doors and windows and waited for them to give us back our ID cards. About fifteen minutes later, the policeman who had earlier spoken to us politely came over to us and told me a second time: "You are under arrest and are forbidden to leave. In five minutes or so, a Police vehicle will come to arrest you." I replied: "All right, when the Police arrive, I'll do as they say." He left us and went away.

We waited for about seven to ten minutes, and two Police vehicles pulled up along with a Border Police vehicle that had "Police" written on it, and parked on the side. The Border Police vehicle stood on the side of the road next to us, and a police officer got out. I think he was the commander. When he came over to us, he introduced himself by the name Akram. He was of average height and build, his skin was dark-brown in color, and he had light-brown, straight hair. He appeared to be in his thirties. He spoke to me politely in Arabic: "We came to arrest you." He did not say why. He ordered me to get out and go with them. I said: "I am not going with you alone. I want the [ambulance] crew to come with me." He replied that, "It is forbidden for them to accompany you because they have West Bank ID cards and are not allowed to enter Israel ." When I refused and insisted that they come with me, he said threateningly, "If you are going to be obstinate, we'll have to arrest you by force." I was so exhausted that I didn't want any more problems, so I did what he said. I got out of the ambulance. The crew also got out. They tried to pull me and prevent me from being arrested. The checkpoint commander, whom I mentioned previously, assaulted my colleagues, hitting them hard. He tried to take his club and hit the driver, but Commander Akram intervened and prevented him from grabbing the club.

Ultimately, I went with the Police and Commander Akram. They took me to the room at the checkpoint, closed the door, and left a policewoman there to guard me. Two minutes later, she insisted on searching me, and I agreed. She conducted the body search, during which she picked up my shirt to look under it. Then she took me out of the room, and when I got outside, I didn't see the ambulance. I think that the crew left. I was taken in the Border Police vehicle to al-Masqobiyah Prison [the Russian Compound, in Jerusalem ]. I sat in the back of the vehicle, with the policewoman guarding me. Three other police officers were in the jeep. They did not harm me on the way. At al-Masqobiya, they put me in the criminal block, and two police officers in blue uniforms fingerprinted me and took a palm print. Then they took me to the interrogation block, where I remained until they took me to an interrogator, who spoke Arabic.

It was around 2:00 P.M. The interrogator was tall, light-skinned, and had a large build. He had white, curly hair, and was about forty years old. He introduced himself as Majid. I sat down and he asked me to tell him what happened. I explained, but he didn't write anything down. After about fifteen minutes passed, he left the room and returned about four minutes later. He told me: "We aren't going to open a file against you. Call somebody who works with you to come and get you." I called Red Crescent headquarters where I work and asked them to have somebody come and get me. I waited about ten minutes until an International Red Cross vehicle came and picked me up. The Red Cross representatives took me to a-Sheikh Zi'ad Hospital, where I underwent tests and X-rays. The physicians found that I had suffered contusions to my neck, hands, face, legs, and stomach. I was treated and discharged. I left the hospital at 3:30 P.M.

Ahlam Nabil Jamil Nasser, 27, is a paramedic and a resident of al-Birah, Ramallah District. Her testimony was given to Iyad Haddad, at the Red Crescent offices, on 13 December 2005.