What could be a more logical and straightforward case than this? Palestinians film invasions of their land by settlers who taunt the locals, beat them with clubs and iron rods, try to set houses ablaze and let their sheep graze on their property. When the violence reaches intolerable levels, the Palestinians file a complaint with the police. The next day, the complainants – yes, the complainants – are summoned for interrogation and held in custody for hours, before being released on bail to the tune of 2,000 shekels (about $550). And the pogromists who were the subject of the complaint? No one interrogates or detains them.
There, in a nutshell, is the twisted and perverted justice of the occupation regime.
A number of homes are perched on the slope of a hill in the southeastern part of Hebron. This is the Khallet a-Natshe neighborhood of the West Bank city; alongside it are small plots of wheat, grapevines and olive trees. But local residents are prohibited from approaching their land. In fact, they are prohibited from crossing an imaginary line 20 meters from their homes.
Above, on the ridge, loom the homes of a settler outpost called Givat Gal, along with a military position armed with omniscient cameras. Since the war in Gaza broke out, the outpost, which had already encroached on Palestinian land, has been beefed up with at least seven or eight new mobile homes, all illegal, of course.
Givat Gal abuts the industrial zone of the urban settlement of Kiryat Arba, which is located on the other side of the hill and houses various businesses, including a winery. Below are the Palestinian residents, the indigenous landowners; above are the outpost's pogromists who descend upon them from the hill almost every day. These are violent, enraged youths, brimming with hatred and racism, who come to provoke and abuse. Their aim: to bring about the evacuation of Khallet a-Natshe and to annex the rest of its land. Now, under the cover of war and a powerful nationalist government in Jerusalem, they are closer than ever to achieving their goal.
[48-seconds, YouTube of settlers' attack.]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h06wV5ljT-w&t=10s
Settlers attacking the Idris family.
Approaching the beleaguered neighborhood, we meet a resident whose arm is in a cast after being pummeled with an iron rod by a settler. The mutual fear and loathing are palpable here. So far, no one is talking about leaving of their own volition but people vividly remember what one settler – who offered to buy their land at any price, and was turned down – said: "If not with money, we'll get this land by force."
We enter an apartment on the ground floor of a three-story building in which five families, all members of the extended Idris family, are living. This is the home of the clan's patriarch, Yunes Idris, 75, whose hand everyone kisses for a blessing, as Jews often do with a revered rabbi. The windows are barred, and most of their panes have been shattered by stones or iron rods.
The men of the family gathered here are quite colorful. One of them sports a cap and is smoking with a cigarette holder, another is an imam at a Hebron mosque. A third, Sadeq Idris, 52, Yunes' son, who lives in the same building, is a father of 11 children and a bulldozer operator in a local stone quarry. It is his arm that is in a cast.
The latest series of attacks against the Idrises started on April 15. Three or four young residents of Givat Gal with big white kippas and long, curly earlocks, who looked to be only 12 or 13 years old – with one wearing a T-shirt of the Hashomer Hachadash (New Guardian) organization, which purports to protect Jewish farmers from harassment – showed up with about 15 sheep to pasture in the family's fields. Such incursions have taken place frequently, ever since. The Palestinians' blood boils at the sight of the youths with the sheep gnawing at their crops. That first time, residents relate, the boys also gathered hay from the field and took it with them.
It was the week of Passover, but the young invaders apparently thought there was no more fitting way to mark the holiday than to cavort on Palestinian pasture land. The same scene played out again four days later. This time, though, the locals tried to drive off the uninvited shepherds, one of whom quickly summoned reinforcements on his phone.
A broken window at the Idris family home.Credit: Alex Levac
Indeed, it's become a recurring pattern. The boys descend from the hill with their flock, pass provocatively close to the Palestinians' homes like lords of the land, and then, when the residents try to protect their property, a large force of about 20 older, masked settlers, armed with sticks, clubs and rods, swoops down, shouting, throwing stones and beating them. The effect, as seen in the video footage taken by eyewitnesses, is frightening. In the meantime, the young marauders flee with their flocks to their outpost on the hill.
As part of the recurring ritual, which usually takes place in the afternoon after the young settlers finish school, residents summon the police; upon their arrival, the older intruders beat a hasty retreat.
Raji Idris, 37, Sadeq's brother and the father of two, relates that the youths once demanded that he "make us a nargileh" and give them cigarettes. They also told him to hand over his misbaha, prayer beads. They got everything they wanted – Raji says he had no choice.
One repeat performance took place on Tuesday, April 22 – the flock, the youths, the older pogromists. This time, three of the young shepherds started to curse the Palestinians, but when the older settlers appeared and the boys ran off, a new element of fear was added: One of the men was carrying a rifle. Moreover, the group was accompanied by two soldiers in uniform, who didn't lift a finger as the settlers ran amok.
Two of the settlers opened the gate to Sadeq's home in the family's building, and tried to set it alight by pouring flammable liquid over some old tires lying around outside. Sadeq's wife, Safa, 50, managed to get Raji's wife, Rasha, who's 36 and pregnant, and confined to bed rest, to Yunes' apartment, which we visited this week. For his part, Sadeq tried to repel the would-be arsonists, which prompted one of the soldiers to fire two shots into the air. One of the settlers then beat Sadeq with an iron rod. Sadeq says he knew at once that his arm was broken.
Ishak Idris next to a window broken by the assailants.Credit: Alex Levac
In the meantime, soldiers and police arrived on the scene, and the settlers fled back up the hill. Sadeq was taken in a private car to Al Ahli Hospital, in Hebron, for treatment. He will probably need additional surgery.
The next day, five members of the Idris clan filed an assault complaint at the Hebron police station, located at 1 Netiv Ha'avot (Path of the Patriarchs) Street. As stipulated by law, they received confirmation of receipt of the complaint, File No. 182003/2025. A week later, the police summoned Raji and Sadeq's sons to the police station. They were certain that they would be giving testimony regarding their complaint, but when they arrived the next day, they were asked whether they had brought a lawyer with them. Puzzled, they discovered that they were now the suspects; the settlers had filed an assault complaint against them.
"I defended my home, they were trying to set it on fire," Sadeq says, recounting what he told the officers, to no avail. "When we file complaints, the police say they don't have documentation and close the case. This time we presented documentation – and we were the ones who were arrested."
Raji and Sadeq's sons – Abdel Razeq, 19, Yousef, 26, and Nur, who's 17 – were taken to the interrogation room and questioned individually about the assault they had allegedly perpetrated. At 3 P.M. an officer demanded that they had to deposit 2,000 shekels, 400 for each detainee, to secure their release. They were not given a receipt.
Raji tried to plead with the officers one last time – "They tried to burn our house and we have to pay bail?" – but it was pointless. A relative, the imam Ishak Idris, brought the money. The family hasn't heard from the police since.
The Givat Gal outpost that's located near the Idris family's home.Credit: Alex Levac
Haaretz asked the police whether the settlers involved in the April 22 incident had also been summoned for questioning and released on bail, like their victims. An Israel Police spokesperson stated in response: "The incident in question is now being investigated. We would like to point out that those suspected of throwing stones were detained, questioned and released conditionally. Some of the suspects were minors, who are not punishable."
The usual method here, in general, is that settlers descend upon and violently abuse Palestinians and graze livestock on their property, which is eventually seized and used for building yet another outpost – while the local residents are prohibited from approaching "for security reasons."
The Idris family owned 66 dunams (about 16 acres) plus 654 sq. meters of land, as recorded in the Israel Land Registry. Givat Gal deprived them of eight dunams, and the young settlers' flocks are currently grazing on most of the rest of the land.
We left Yunes' apartment and walked outside. The family's olive groves, less than 30 meters from the front door, are off-limits to them. No one dares to cross the arbitrary 20-meter line – in the direction of Givat Gal – that an army officer once drew physically in the sand. On one occasion soldiers threatened that if the residents crossed the line they would be shot.
Kareem Jubran, the fieldwork coordinator for the Israeli human rights organization B'Tselem, and field researcher Manal Ja'bri, have promised to look into the possibility of installing security cameras on houses in the neighborhood, in order, perhaps, to provide at least a modicum of protection.