Israeli Troops Came to Raze Palestinian Homes, and Along the Way Killed Two Young Men
The razed home of the family of Abdelrahman Abed, in Kafr Dan this week. On the concrete ceiling that has collapsed someone’s drawn a Star of David next to a swastika, and written “Nazism of the century.”Credit: Alex Levac
Two massive yellow bulldozers are parked in front of the home of a bereaved family in the village of Kafr Dan, northwest of Jenin in the West Bank. One bulldozer belongs to the grieving father, Mahmoud Abed; the other to his late son, Fouad, who worked with him. This is a two-story house, still lacking a plaster finish. The parents and children live on the ground floor; the upper floor, still under construction, was earmarked for 17-year-old Fouad, the eldest of what were five children.
Fouad’s death occurred in the evening of the first day of 2023. Happy New Year, Kafr Dan. In 2022, the Israel Defense Forces killed six local residents. This militant village of 8,000 is influenced by the determined spirit of resistance that emanates from the nearby Jenin refugee camp.
Signs of mourning and suffering are palpable here: in the bereavement that pervades Fouad’s home; in the modest memorial at the other end of the village – a flag of Palestine spread over a patch of blood-soaked earth, encircled by stones – that marks the spot where the IDF’s second victim that same night, 23-year-old Mohammad Hoshiyeh, from a neighboring village, was killed; and at Ibn Sina Hospital in Jenin, where physicians were still treating an 18-year-old Kafr Dan resident, Iz a-Din Abed, who was seriously wounded that same night. And then there are the two heaps of rubble that Israeli troops left behind this week – remnants of the homes of the families of Palestinian fighters who took part in an attack at the nearby Jalameh checkpoint on September 14. Across from the mounds, villagers were sitting in plastic chairs, mourning the destruction of their homes as people in mourning tents grieve for their dead.
The Israeli defense establishment decided to mark the first day of the new year by demolishing the homes of families of the two young men, Abdelrahman Abed and Ahmed Abed, who killed IDF Maj. Bar Falah in the checkpoint incident. The two Palestinians, members of one of the largest clans in their village, were killed in an exchange of gunfire with Israeli forces, in which Falah was involved.
At about 10 P.M. on January 1, a large force of soldiers and giant earthmovers surrounded Kafr Dan and launched an invasion, taking up positions and blocking the roads in the village, as well as access to it from outside, until the next morning. The occupants of the two homes slated for demolition, which are a few hundred meters apart, along with their neighbors, were taken by the troops to a nearby mosque. Then came the explosions. Both floors of the home of Abdelrahman’s family were demolished; only the second floor of Ahmed’s house was destroyed.
Immediately after the army’s incursion, the inevitable violent clashes erupted between local young people who tried in vain to defend their village along with people from neighboring communities who came to aid in the resistance. One of the latter was Mohammed Hoshiyeh, who was shot in the head at the entrance to Kafr Dan. As far as is known, he threw rocks at soldiers and also tried to set up some stone barriers before being killed. Most of the young people threw stones and bottles of paint at the troops, although some fired at them with live ammunition.
Throughout New Year’s day, Fouad Abed and his father had been out working. At about 6 P.M., Fouad went home, showered, had a light meal and after 9 o’clock, took the family car to drive to the gym, as he did every night. One of the photographs on the mourning posters in his home shows him dressed in a military-style T-shirt, the results of his training clearly visible: He was a sturdy, muscular young man. In that same picture, he’s seen holding a pistol, a rifle slung over his shoulder. (According to his father, the photo was taken at a wedding, but that seems unlikely.) Fouad’s mother, Noha, asked him to buy baby formula for his 8-month-old sister, on the way home from the gym.
Mahmoud, 38, the father, who had two sons and three daughters, sat this week in the unpaved area in front of his house, mourning his son. His face and his broken voice said it all. Fouad attended a local school until 10th grade and then joined his father at the earthworks on his yellow JCB bulldozer. On the last evening of his life, his family says, he tried to get home from the gym but encountered barriers erected by Israeli troops in the center of the village next to the diwan, an area for gatherings of the extended Abed clan. Fouad left the car by the diwan and proceeded on foot. He probably joined the stone throwers.
On the second floor of a small house in the center of the village, a soldier was hiding out. Below the house were three army vehicles. The soldier upstairs fired volleys of live ammunition at the young people who had gathered on the street. Fouad was hit in one of them; six bullets struck him, in the neck, the chest and the stomach. It was 10:40 P.M. Iz a-Din Abed, 18, who was standing not far away, took a bullet to the chest. The size of the holes caused by the gunfire in the walls of the adjacent buildings, which we saw this week, indicate that heavy weaponry was used.
The IDF Spokesperson’s Unit issued the following statement to Haaretz this week: “On January 1, 2023, during the demolition of the homes of the terrorists from the clash next to the Jalameh checkpoint, violent disturbances erupted, which included the throwing of stones, Molotov cocktails and [explosive] devices, the burning of tires and massive shooting at the [Israeli] forces. The IDF fighters used crowd dispersal means, and shot at the armed individuals who shot at them. The circumstances of the death of those killed are being clarified.”
It is important to remember that incursions by military forces and the demolition of the homes of innocent persons is the regular order of things, the ostensible “proper order” in the territories, and the legitimate resistance to it constitutes a disturbance of the order which must be quashed by any and all means.
Like most of their fellow villagers, the members of Fouad’s family huddled together in their home during the incursion that fateful night. Later on in the night reports began to appear on social media that the teenager had been wounded and evacuated. His family made attempts, albeit unsuccessful, to get to the hospital. Kafr Dan was under a type of curfew. With all roads blocked by the army, it was dangerous and indeed impossible to leave the house while the demolition mission continued. The bereaved family recalls that the soldiers were particularly aggressive that night.
Almost five hours of paralyzing fear and concern for Fouad passed before his family was able to leave their house: At 2:40 A.M., the youth’s parents managed to leave for Ibn Sina Hospital, taking his 12-year-old sister Adain with them; she was so traumatized by the events that she almost lost consciousness, they say. The army let them pass and they sped to Jenin.
However, when they arrived at the hospital, Fouad was no longer there. Ibn Sina doesn’t have a morgue. He was pronounced dead just after midnight and his body had been taken to the government hospital in Jenin, located nearby, at the entrance to the city’s refugee camp. Having already learned on the way that their loved one was dead, the family went directly to the morgue to view the body.
“He tried to get home but didn’t make it,” his father says now. “Let’s say he threw stones – six bullets in his body?” He shows us Fouad’s cellphone, stained with his blood and with a 20-shekel note tucked into the case.
A new day dawned along with the new year in Kafr Dan. Abdulkarim Sadi, a field researcher for the Israeli human rights organization B’Tselem, arrived in the village a little after 8 A.M. to document what had happened overnight, and was surprised to see army vehicles and troops still there. Sadi hurried to find shelter in a nearby house. Army ballistics units had blown up Ahmed Abed’s home at 4:30 A.M., and at about 8 A.M. they had dynamited the home of Abdelrahman. The troops finally pulled out around 10 A.M.
Early in the week, Iz a-Din Abed, who suffered a serious chest wound, was transferred from intensive care at Ibn Sina, where he had been since he was shot, to a regular ward there for continued treatment.
When we arrive at Abdelrahman Abed’s demolished home, two young men are sitting nearby, staring at the ruins. The two are Mustafa, Abdelrahman’s brother, and Wahal, his nephew. The house seems to be lying on its belly. Flags of Palestine and of organizations involved in the Palestinian struggle are scattered among the rubble. On the concrete ceiling that has collapsed, someone has drawn a Star of David next to a swastika and written, in Arabic, “Nazism of the century.” The red-and-white crime-scene ribbons of the Israel Police lie on the ground nearby.
Eight souls had lived in this house, besides Abdelrahman, and certainly none of them had any connection with what he did. His grandfather, Subkhi, who’s 85, and his grandmother, Shawkiya, 78, also lived with Abdelrahman’s siblings and parents. The elderly couple has now moved to a rented apartment in Kafr Dan.
Not far from the razed house are what’s left of the second story of Ahmed Abed’s home, which collapsed onto the first floor and caused more destruction. A few women sit opposite the rubble, mutely gazing at the damage.
This article is published in its entirety.