On Wednesday, 11 May 2022, at around 8:30 A.M., following news reports that journalist Shireen Abu Akleh had been killed, a group of about 10 Palestinian youths in al-Birah made their way towards an intersection near the settlement of Psagot. They blocked the intersection with trash cans and rocks, and about seven soldiers came out of the settlement towards them. The teens fled about 200 meters away from the intersection, while the soldiers advanced towards it, hurling stun grenades and firing tear gas canisters and live shots at the youths. One teen was injured in the leg by live fire.
The youths threw stones at the soldiers from a considerable distance, of more than 100 meters away. At around 9:00 A.M., about 10 more Palestinian teens arrived, including Thaer Mislet (16), a resident of Um a-Sharayet Samiramis who attends a nearby high school. B'Tselem's investigation indicates that when Mislet peeked out from behind a commercial van, one of the soldiers fired three bullets at him from about 120 meters away. Two bullets hit the van and one hit Mislet in the chest. Mislet staggered several meters back and collapsed, and was dead on arrival at hospital.
According to media reports, a military official claimed soldiers had fired rubber-coated metal bullets at youths who were throwing stones at them. Yet contrary to this claim, Mislet was wounded by a live round and not a "rubber" bullet – which cannot not inflict substantial injury, and certainly not a fatal one, from such a great distance. The soldier fired the lethal shot that killed 16-year-old Thaer Mislet, who was not endangering him or any other soldier, as part of Israel's unlawful and unjustified open-fire policy in the Occupied Territories, which permits use of lethal live fire even in non-life-threatening circumstances.
As a result of this policy, Israeli security forces killed 14 Palestinian minors in the West Bank, including Mislet, in the first half of 2022 alone ¬— the six deadliest months in the West Bank since 2016. According to Mislet's parents, a representative of the Military Police Investigations Unit contacted them, informed them that an investigation had been launched, and asked them to send the unit their son's medical documents. Based on experience, this investigation, too, will not yield any action or achieve justice for Thaer Mislet and his family. Its sole function is to lend Israel legitimacy to continue implementing its policy of fatally shooting Palestinians.
In a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad on 12 May 2022, Mislet's friend H.R. (16) recounted:
The teachers at school have been on strike for about a month now, so sometimes we only have a class or two in the morning, and then some of the students go and throw stones at the soldiers near the gate of the Psagot settlement. On Wednesday, 11 May 2022, we had one class and were done by 9:00 A.M. My classmate Thaer Mislet and I decided to go and watch the clashes. We didn't want to be involved in them. We went there with seven or eight other students.
When we arrived, there were already about 10 teens there, by a building on the street corner. There were six or seven soldiers standing across from them, by the intersection that leads to the settlement. The kids who were there told me that before we got there, the soldiers had already thrown stun grenades and fired tear gas and live shots, and one kid had been injured. When we got there, it was quiet. Thaer and I walked about 20 or 30 meters towards a detergent factory, along with a few other kids. We hid our schoolbags in a corner so they wouldn't hold us back if we had to run away. Some of the kids shouted, whistled and swore at the soldiers. Then they threw stones at them and ran away. Meanwhile, we realized that six or seven soldiers had snuck up closer to us. We spotted them as they were crossing to the opposite sidewalk, and then we saw them hide behind a commercial van that was in the middle of making a U-turn on the road. They took up a position behind the corner of a building and a large cypress tree. We ran back to the building where the other kids where, and picked up our schoolbags on the way.
When we were next to the building, Thaer peeked out from behind the van, which was parked on the sidewalk, to see where the soldiers were and what they were doing. One of them, I don't know which, fired two or three shots. One the shots hit Thaer in the chest. He took a few steps, vomited blood and said, "My chest, my chest." We grabbed him before he hit the ground and put him in a car that was there. Another friend and I got into the car with him, and the driver took us to the Palestine Medical Complex in Ramallah. On the way, the driver asked me to check his breathing. I put my hand on his back. He was breathing heavily. His eyelids were moving, but he couldn't speak or move. A bit before we got to the hospital, Thaer took a deep breath and almost stopped breathing. We got there quickly, in less than five minutes. They took him to the ICU and started trying to resuscitate him. I saw a flat line on the pulse monitor. A few minutes later, the doctors made me leave the room, but I managed to get back in through a side door after 10 minutes. I saw Thaer lying lifeless, wrapped in a white sheet.
Yusef Qadi (63), a resident of Beit Liqya, owns the detergent factory on the street where Mislet was shot. In a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad on 12 May 2022, he recounted:
On Wednesday, 11 May 2022, at 8:30 A.M., about seven teens with schoolbags were at the intersection that’s 100 meters away from my factory. That’s usually a sign that there will be protests and stone-throwing. Often, there's also live fire and tear gas fired in the area, and we're the first to get hit. About five male and female soldiers were opposite the kids, about 100 meters away. I heard a female soldier shouting at the kids to go home, but they stayed put.
At 9:00 A.M., I went out to deliver an order and got back 20 minutes later. I saw a group of seven or eight other soldiers coming from the street next to the factory. When I was in front of the factory, one of the soldiers gestured to me from a distance and shouted, "Stop, stop." I turned the van around and went back to the entrance to the street, so I could shield the kids with the van.
A group of kids who were outside my factory ran up to the entrance to the street. They hid behind my van as I was turning it around. The soldiers also crossed the street, at the same time, so the teens were within their firing range. When I finished turning around, I drove up to where the teens were standing in order to get away from the soldiers, and stopped there.
The distance between the teens and the soldiers was about 100 to 120 meters. I saw one of the soldiers kneel and aim his weapon at them. I didn't see the teens throwing stones at the time. I warned them and asked them to leave. One of the neighbors, Mu'az, also came out of his house and asked them to leave so they wouldn't get hurt, but they stayed there.
At around 9:30, two bullets hit the body of my van. I didn't hear the shots. At that moment, I noticed one of the teens, whom I later found out was called Thaer Mislet, peeking out at the soldiers from behind the van. Mu'az and I shouted to him and to his friends to run away. Then, apparently, a third bullet was shot and it hit him in the chest. He took a few steps back and then his friends grabbed him and quickly took him to Mu'az's car. It was clear that he was badly wounded, because he vomited blood on the floor.
I turned around and went back to the factory, and the rest of the teens left the area. Later on, soldiers went back there and collected the shell casings of the bullets that were fired. After about 15 minutes, Mu'az went home. I asked him how the kid was doing, and he told me he’d been killed.
Mu'az Qur'an (35) lives opposite the spot where Mislet was shot. In a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad on 12 May 2022, he recalled:
I was done getting ready in the morning and was about to leave home when my eldest son, 'Ata (13), told me there were clashes in the neighborhood. We're used to these clashes. They take place almost every day, so I didn't think it was particularly important. We’re often hit by tear gas, and sometimes bullets hit our house or car. Sometimes, soldiers also enter our backyard while chasing kids. I left the house and got into my car, which was parked by our gate, and asked 'Ata to go get his little brother, who's three years old.
I saw about 10 to 20 kids hiding in the corner of a building on the sidewalk across from me. They were trying to hide from soldiers who were near the intersection east of our house. When I went outside, the soldiers weren’t shooting. Every so often, one of the teens came out and threw a stone at the soldiers, but the stones barely reached them because they were about 120 meters away.
I saw the owner of the factory down the street making a U-turn with his van and driving back to the corner in front of my house. The kids hid between the van and the wall of the building. I heard him warn them and try to scare them into running away. I moved and stood my car behind the van, so it would shield me. I also asked the kids to get away from there, but they refused.
Thank God ‘Ata hadn’t left the house yet with his little brother, because suddenly, I heard three shots, one after the other. One of the bullets hit a kid who had come out of his hiding place. As soon as he was hit, he turned around and faced me. He didn’t say anything, but just took a few steps back, vomited a lot of blood and fell down. His friends grabbed him and quickly put him in the back seat of my car. Two of his friends got into the car and I immediately drove them to the Palestine Medical Complex. On the way, I didn’t hear any sound coming from the injured kid, who was lying face down. I put my hand on his back and told him to recite the Shahadatain. I felt him breathing slowly and heavily.
After we got to the hospital, a medical team took him and started trying to resuscitate him. I went home immediately. Later, I saw soldiers head to the intersection, look for the shell casings from the bullets that were fired and take them.
In a testimony she gave B'Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad on 2 June 2022, Mariah Mislet (41) spoke about her eldest son, Thaer:
Thaer was my eldest son, so I had a special bond with him. He was an obedient boy and was my right hand man. May God be pleased with him. He always helped me and made sure I never wanted for anything. He worked hard at his studies and I encouraged him, so he could go to university. He dreamed of being a soccer player and played on several teams. Thaer’s friends loved him. He was shy, but had a strong personality and was happy and full of humor.
The day he was killed, I woke him up as usual and drove him and his three sisters to their schools. When I got home, at 8:00 A.M., my husband was sitting and watching the news on his cellphone. He told me that Shireen Abu Akleh, a reporter for Al-Jazeera, had been killed covering a military raid on Jenin Refugee Camp. I was shocked. I started following the news on TV and continued after my husband left for work.
At 10:00 A.M., I saw a news item about a 21-year-old martyr near Jabal a-Tawil. The area is close to Thaer's school but he’s 16, so I told myself it couldn't be him. In any case, I called to see how he was doing, but he didn't pick up. I called his father and his brother Layth (12), but they didn't answer either. I started worrying and kept checking the news and social media.
Fifteen minutes later, I saw a news item saying my son had been killed. I was shocked and started pounding my fists against my knees. After two or three minutes, family members, neighbors and friends started calling me to find out what happened. I didn't pick up. I quickly got dressed and left my three-year-old son with the neighbors. I went to the hospital. I prayed the news wasn't true. There were a lot of people at the hospital, including students, and friends from Thaer's school. My son was lying in the morgue, surround by several friends who were crying and shouting. I felt I was collapsing. I hugged him and kissed him and cried. I spoke to him as if he was still alive. It was only then that I realized he really was dead, and that I'd never see him or talk to him again. People tried to calm me down and comfort me, and took me aside. We buried him a few hours later at the cemetery in al-Birah.
I can't stop thinking about Thaer, about the days and years we spent together. Nothing makes me happy or makes me laugh. Every time I look around me, I feel there’s something missing in our home. His brothers and sisters are unbelievably tense and stressed now. I pray we can be strong and that my son will receive Heaven's mercy.
