An Israeli army unit storms a quiet Palestinian village in the West Bank. Jeeps tear through the streets as soldiers seize a family home. From a window, a sniper spots a student waiting for a shared taxi, and shoots him dead. IDF Spokesperson: ‘A terrorist threw an explosive device’
It’s 7:30 in the morning in a small, tranquil Palestinian village near Jenin in the northern West Bank. An Israel Defense Forces unit invades just as the students are on the way to school. It’s not clear why the IDF chose to enter this village at all, and why the incursion was timed to coincide with the start of the school day.
Because no one was taken into custody during the invasion, other than one young man who was released immediately, it can be assumed that besides training the troops and sowing the usual fear in the hearts of the residents, there was no real purpose for the action. It’s the same story with most of the army’s daily incursions. The IDF Spokesperson’s Unit would later claim that the action was part of a “brigade operation,” without elaborating on its aims, even though this question was also posed.
In any event, four armored military jeeps entered the village and started to hurtle through the streets, back and forth, apparently to provoke and intimidate the inhabitants. Immediately afterward, the regular ritual began: The village’s youth, some of them on the way to school, began throwing stones at the sides of the jeeps, not endangering anyone.
While the jeeps barreled aimlessly through the streets, four soldiers entered a house in the center of the village – the home of a teacher and his wife, who asked that their names not be made public. They shut them in a room on the first floor and went up to the second floor, a kind of attic with a barred window and a small opening next to it. One of the soldiers placed a stool on the couple’s old washing machine, positioned himself next to the opening, aimed his rifle and waited in ambush.
In the meantime, a young man arrived on the street and headed for the village’s shared taxi stand. He was on his way to register for his second year of university studies, which is scheduled to start next week. When he left the house, his parents said afterward, he didn’t know that troops were in the village – otherwise, they say, they wouldn’t have allowed him to go into the village swarming with soldiers.
They live in a quiet, well-kept country home on the outskirts of the village. All four of the siblings are university students or graduates. One daughter is a physician, her sister is a pharmacist, the elder son is a civil engineer who works in Dubai, and the younger brother, the one who went outside, was studying electrical engineering at Palestine Technical University – Kadoorie, in Tulkarm.
Ahmed Barahmeh, 19, reached the center of the village. The taxi drivers, knowing that soldiers had entered the village, left the site quickly. Three young people remained on the street, waiting next to the taxi stand. They might have thrown stones at the jeeps, but at 7:58 A.M. there wasn’t a jeep in the street, so no stones were being thrown, according to testimonies collected by Abdulkarim Sadi, a field researcher for the Israeli human rights organization B’Tselem.
Perhaps Barahmeh was holding a stone, waiting for an army jeep to appear. He didn’t know that 40 meters away, at the end of the street, on the second floor of the home of the teacher and his wife, a sniper hiding next to the window was waiting. A neighbor said that he saw a rifle barrel protruding from the opening; it’s unlikely that Barahmeh noticed it from that distance.
Suddenly there was a clicking sound. From the rifle barrel, a single shot was fired, which struck the student squarely in the chest. He fell to the ground, bleeding. His two friends carried him away instantly, and summoned an ambulance, but by the time the vehicle reached the Governmental Hospital in Jenin, Barahmeh had breathed his last. Thus ended the young student’s life, with one unnecessary, criminal gunshot. A Palestinian flag now flies at the spot where he fell.
The village of Anza, population about 3,000, is located south of Jenin. Thaisir Sadaqa, the head of the local council, says that in the months leading up to Barahmeh’s killing, the army stepped up its incursions into the village and was arriving every two days on average. He has no idea why. When the village’s social media channels report the entry of troops, most of the residents go into their homes. Only the young people go outside to throw stones that hardly ever hit anyone and don’t even damage the jeeps. The ritual was repeated on the morning of September 24.
The garden of the family’s home – synthetic grass, plastic chairs. The bereaved mother, Fatma, 52, is an inspector in the Palestinian Education Ministry’s Jenin branch. Her husband, Jihad, 57, is a retired tester in the Palestinian Transportation Ministry. Sitting next to them is their eldest child, Mohammed, 30, a tall man, who has come from Dubai to bury his brother.
The last time he met with Ahmed was in April of this year, during his previous visit to the village. He’s lived in the Gulf for 10 years and has no intention of returning while the occupation lasts. His younger brother studied engineering like him, he says, after he told him that there’s a high demand for engineers in the Gulf and he could follow in his footsteps.
On the morning of September 24, Fatma says, Ahmed told his mother that he had arranged to go to Tulkarm with a friend to register for his studies. Leaving the house at about 7:40, he walked a few minutes to the taxi stand, where he met his friend. He told his mother he would be back early.
It was only after he left that she noticed the messages about the army in the village. She phoned Ahmed immediately, but he told her that he was waiting for a taxi and that there were no soldiers in the area. Fatma went outside – the noise made by the army is usually audible in the village. She ran into her sister Atayni, 60, and her son near the center of the village. Atayni told her sister that the driver of a shared taxi at the stand had told the passengers who were waiting to leave and that he himself had left for fear of the army, and that Ahmed was waiting.
A little earlier, two shots had been heard in the village from a distance, but no one had been hurt. Residents said that the soldiers detained a young man, roughed him up and let him go. Fatma continued walking, worried. A woman she met on the way told her that Ahmed had been wounded.
She started to run toward the center of the village. When she reached it she didn’t see her son – he had already been taken away by his friends – but the soldiers emerged from the house in which they had hidden and from which her son was shot, and chased her off with shouts. Jihad arrived on the scene in his car and together they drove to the hospital in Jenin.
At home, Fatma now grips the hand of her remaining son and the two of them sob silently.
As they sped to Jenin, the father also didn’t know that his son was dead. Only when they arrived at the hospital did they learn the grim news. The bullet had entered Ahmed’s chest and exited from his back. The paramedic in the ambulance told Sadi, the field researcher, that Ahmed had died when they were halfway to the hospital.
Now everyone in the household is crying.
The IDF Spokesperson’s Unit this week responded to Haaretz’s query with the same statement that was issued on the day of the incident. “During a brigade operation in the village of Anza, in [the area under the jurisdiction of] the Menashe Brigade, a terrorist threw a device at forces from the Paratroopers’ recon unit who were operating in the area. The forces responded with fire and eliminated the terrorist. Our forces sustained no casualties.”
“Ahmed didn’t do a thing,” his aunt says. “I saw him a few minutes before he was killed. He was standing and waiting for a taxi.” His mother adds: “All my life I looked after my children. They all excelled in their studies.” The council head says that Ahmed was shy and that he blushed every time he spoke to him. The family members show photo albums on their cell phones: Here’s Ahmed riding the horse that was bought for him, called Ra’ed – thunder in Arabic.
Alan Rusbridger, former editor in chief of The Guardian and now the editor of Prospect magazine, who accompanied us on the visit, asked, “What went through the head of the soldier who killed Ahmed?” The question remained hanging in the air, with no real answer.