At Israel’s Supreme Court
Muna Haddad
Walid Daqqa, a Palestinian writer and intellectual, died in prison on 7 April, at the age of 62, less than a year before he was due to be released. Convicted in 1987 for involvement in the abduction and killing of the Israeli soldier Moshe Tamam in 1984 – which he always denied – Daqqa, a citizen of Israel, spent 38 years behind bars. During his time in jail he was diagnosed with cancer and suffered from medical neglect.
The Israeli government has refused to release his body to his family, withholding it as a bargaining chip for future negotiations with Hamas. Daqqa’s wife and brother, seeking a proper burial for him in the family cemetery in Baqa al-Gharbiyye, asked the Palestinian human rights organisation Adalah to submit a petition to the Israeli Supreme Court on their behalf.
Two days before the hearing was to take place, far-right Israeli organisations circulated calls on social media urging activists to disrupt the proceedings. Adalah contacted the court’s security personnel to make sure they were aware of the situation and request that safety precautions be taken. Adalah also asked that protesters not be allowed into the courtroom before the hearing started. The court refused the request. Concerned for the safety of Daqqa’s family, Adalah advised them not to attend the hearing.
On 21 August, together with Suhad Bishara, Adalah’s legal director, and two of her colleagues, I travelled from Haifa to Jerusalem, where we met another human rights lawyer and three friends. As we entered the building, we were accosted by a crowd of hostile protesters. While security guards escorted us to the courtroom, the protesters shouted insults and threats. Tally Gotliv, a Likud member of the Knesset, spat in the face of one of the men in our group, mistaking him for a member of Daqqa’s family.
We were seated in the front row of the courtroom. The protesters followed us in and shouted at the security guards, demanding to know why ‘terrorist supporters’ were seated up front. One of the guards replied: ‘Look at it from a security guard’s perspective – wouldn’t you rather they be directly in front of me?’
As we waited for the judges to enter, we were subjected to a barrage of shouts and chants, including rape and death threats directed at the human rights lawyer. Daqqa’s corpse, the protesters yelled, should be buried with ‘pigs and alcohol’ and the lawyer’s body should ‘be eaten by pigs in hell’. At times the curses were drowned out by chants of ‘Am Yisrael Chai’ (‘The People of Israel Live’) and ‘Death to Terrorists’.
The security guards did nothing, allowing this harassment to continue for at least fifteen minutes, until the three judges – Isaac Amit, Ofer Grosskopf and Gila Canfy-Steinitz – entered the courtroom. They tried to calm the crowd, explaining procedures, and the hearing began. The state asked for a closed-door session and the judges agreed. They withdrew and Nitzan Alon, a major general in the military, testified for forty minutes in a separate room. Meanwhile, we were trapped in the courtroom with the protesters, who continued chanting and cursing.
When the time came for Bishara to present her arguments, the protesters called her a ‘terrorist supporter’ and interrupted her constantly. Every time Bishara referred to Daqqa as an ‘Israeli citizen’ or ‘the deceased’, the crowd would yell back ‘Terrorist!’ or ‘Murderer!’
Occasionally the judges asked for silence. But the only person they instructed to leave the courtroom was a woman who held up a sign saying: ‘The High Court of Justice Assists the Enemy.’
They tried to make another, particularly disruptive woman leave but the crowd gathered around her and blocked the guards from escorting her out. Rather than insisting that she leave, the judges instead announced a recess and left the courtroom themselves, once again leaving us exposed to the hostile crowd for a further fifteen minutes.
When the judges returned, Bishara continued to make her arguments and the crowd continued to abuse her: ‘Go to Nova so they can murder you’; ‘You need a bullet in your head.’ The judges heard the abuse but did not say a word.