Hours before Israel's interception and arrests, Madleen activist Suayb Ordu shared insights into the aid journey to Gaza

On Sunday, 1 June, the Madleen, a humanitarian vessel launched by the Freedom Flotilla Coalition, began its 2,000-kilometre journey from Sicily to Gaza to deliver essential aid to the besieged Palestinian enclave. By 3:02 am CET (01:02 GMT) on Monday, 9 June, Israeli forces had intercepted and boarded the ship in a forceful operation at sea.

"If you see this video, we have been intercepted and kidnapped in international waters," Swedish climate campaigner Greta Thunberg said in a pre-recorded video shared by the coalition.

Named after Gaza’s first and only fisherwoman, the Madleen carried 12 international activists, including French MEP Rima Hassan. Their mission was not only to deliver humanitarian aid but also to challenge Israel’s longstanding naval blockade of Gaza, which has been in place since 2007.

Live footage circulating on social media showed Israeli naval forces ramming and forcibly boarding the Madleen, with peaceful activists ordered to discard their phones before communications with the vessel were abruptly cut off.

These troubling scenes followed an order from Israeli Defence Minister Israel Katz, who instructed the military to prevent the ship from reaching Gaza. Israel stated that the purpose of the blockade is to "prevent the transfer of weapons to Hamas" and considers it essential to its security in efforts to dismantle the Palestinian armed group.

The attack on the Madleen is not the first instance of violence directed at vessels attempting to deliver aid to Gaza. Just weeks earlier, Israeli drones had struck another aid ship bound for the enclave. Furthermore, in 2010, Israeli commandos stormed the Mavi Marmara, another ship in the Freedom Flotilla, killing ten people.

Speaking to The New Arab on the morning of Sunday, 8 June, just hours before the ship was intercepted and its crew arrested, Suayb Ordu, one of the 12 activists aboard the Madleen, shared insights into the activists' journey to Gaza. 

The New Arab: How is the team’s morale on the Madleen right now?

Morale is good right now. Whenever there’s a moment of calm, everyone tends to go quiet. It’s probably due to tension, stress, and emotional weight — worries about what might happen. But aside from that, when we’re working, we really focus on our work, and our determination is strong. Thankfully, no one is afraid. Everyone desires to be able to enter Gaza. The only concern is whether or not we’ll actually be able to make it in.

There's a real chance of Israeli violence. How have you and the team processed and prepared for this?

Yes, Israeli violence is a real threat. A month ago, our sister ship, Vicdan (Conscience), was bombed off Malta’s coast. The world stayed silent, and Israel carried out the bombing without consequences. No proper investigation has been done, and the silence emboldens them.

Also, within our team, I hold a Turkish passport. And even though Rima Hassan is a member of the European Parliament, she is of Palestinian ethnicity. Because of Israel’s fascist governance, this puts us under additional threat — there’s a greater likelihood of us being subjected to violence.

However, as a team, we're prepared for this. We can’t predict their actions, but our team has undergone extensive non-violence training. We won’t respond to violence with violence.

We are peaceful civilians with no criminal records, many of us with experience in human rights, climate activism, and humanitarian causes, including Greta’s movement. Most of us have never raised a hand to anyone. We don’t fight. We bring aid and hope.

We plan to remain completely non-reactive to any aggression directed toward us. We won’t even look them in the eye. We won’t smile. We’ll just sit down. And we will assert our right to move forward toward Gaza.

If they block us and the international community doesn’t apply pressure, the responsibility shifts to governments and the public. If Israel blocks us unlawfully, the responsibility lies not only with Israel but with the entire world.

We’re always on high alert for attacks — bombs, drones, or torpedoes. If an unidentified object is spotted, we sound the alarm and move quickly. If attacked, we put on life jackets and prepare to jump into the sea. The ship is small and could sink from a small bomb.

If they raid us with Zodiacs or similar crafts, we will remain silent and non-violent. In the case of bombing, we will try to save ourselves.

There’s also an absurd legal system in place. If the ship is hit just a kilometre before European waters, nothing happens. But even one metre inside, it’s considered an act of war against Europe.

Think about it: you're in a place, and if you're killed, just one step ahead — nothing. But one step behind, suddenly the world reacts, the alarms go off, and it's considered an international incident. But what difference does that one step make to the one who’s been killed? Dead is dead. Whether it happened a metre before or a metre after a maritime border.

Where will the boat go if it is blocked by the Israeli military? 

We can’t say for sure, but most likely we would be taken to the nearest port, which is the Port of Ashdod. There, they would seize the boat, confiscate everything on board, and also take our personal belongings. They won’t return our items in a way that allows us to recover them. After that, they might imprison us. Whether they’ll harm us or deport us — that’s their decision. We don’t know. But our best guess is that we would be taken to Ashdod Port.

Beyond her remarkable activism and audience, is Greta's participation on the boat a form of security and deterrence from violence?

The reason Greta is on that boat is that she has an extraordinary spirit. She is there because she possesses the sensitivity, the level of empathy, and the conscience to acknowledge the truth. Greta deserves to be there — not just because she is famous, but because she has been part of this struggle since her childhood.

Of course, this has placed a tremendous burden on her shoulders. Greta may not have had the chance to fully live out her childhood. But as she grew up, she was able to recognise what is right and wrong — what goodness, conscience, ethics, and being active truly mean. She took a stand accordingly, and she acted on it.

Greta has paid a heavy price for this. She has faced serious threats. She has lost significant support. And yet, she didn’t give up. It’s because of these sacrifices that she absolutely deserves to be on that boat.

Some might say her presence could serve as a deterrent to Israel. It’s possible. Maybe it will have an impact. I can’t say I’m counting on that — but, to use a bit of dark humour: if they have bombs and weapons, well, we have Greta. But in all seriousness, whether or not they take her presence seriously, whether they are intimidated by it — that remains to be seen. I hope they are. Because we need that.

We need well-known, respected, and proven voices like Greta’s to speak out and take action. Not just individuals, but also governments, states, and institutions must follow the rules and act responsibly. That is what deters atrocities. If you don’t stop a murderer, he becomes a serial killer. Greta is doing her part. And everyone else should do theirs.

How are the different jobs on the boat organised?

We have two captains on board — one is the main captain and the other is a backup. However, another friend of ours also has significant experience in commanding vessels. We have one engineer as well, who assists in engine maintenance and any technical malfunctions that may arise. This is how we’ve managed to keep the ship operational.

To avoid being stopped or blocked at any port, we made sure to stock extra supplies — extra fuel, extra water, everything we might need. That’s how we’ve managed to make it this far. The boat is small, and under normal conditions, covering this distance would be nearly impossible.

As for duties, I’m sort of the team’s “joker.” I usually take on all the odd, complex tasks and help coordinate within the crew. If someone from outside tries to reach the crew and can’t, I try to step in and handle it. I act like a cable, connecting the team members. That’s how I see it personally — hopefully, they think the same!

Regarding meals, we work on a rotating system. Anyone can say, “I’ll take kitchen duty today,” and prepare the food. Everyone makes their own breakfast and washes their own dishes. We usually skip lunch. For dinner, it’s not cooked every day — whoever signs up for the day handles it if they’re up to it.

We also keep night watch in teams: one captain and two watchmen every night, in four-hour shifts. Throughout the night and day, we always have two people on watch to observe the surroundings. If we detect anyone unfamiliar nearby, we go on alert. Our main goal is to protect ourselves — to ensure our safety and lives in case of an attack. That’s why the watch shifts rotate every four hours, so no one is on duty for 24 hours straight.

A few days ago, you picked up four people who were on a sinking dinghy. Will they stay with you to Gaza?

Yes, we took four people onto our ship. Their boat was about to sink. Imagine thirty-seven people crammed into an inflatable boat. They had been at sea for five days, their food had run out, they had no engine, and they were drifting. Half the air in their boat was already gone. If we hadn’t found them, they would have drifted for at most one more day before sinking. After we found them, a rescue team arrived — though we’re still not sure if they were from the Libyan or Egyptian army. They said they were Egyptian. They took 33 people on board. But four, instead of boarding, jumped into the sea and started swimming away.

We asked the Coast Guard boat to rescue those four. We made repeated, urgent requests for about ten minutes, pleading with everyone. But they didn’t respond and eventually turned around and left.

When they left, those people had been swimming for over ten minutes. It’s the open sea — swimming is exhausting and difficult, especially for weak, worn-out people. We had no choice but to take them onboard. We couldn’t watch them drown. So, we took them in — but couldn’t take them to Gaza either. These people are fleeing another war, risking everything to live with dignity.

The four later told us the army vessel was not Egyptian, but Libyan, and they were going back to Libya. They said if they returned, they would likely be imprisoned, deported, and endure a harsh process. That’s why they preferred to die and jumped into the sea.

They risk everything just to reach Europe. On a sliver of hope, they pay enormous prices and take unimaginable risks. The world is almost entirely unaware. It remains disturbingly silent and blind. This story was just one day — one event we witnessed. But this happens constantly, every day.

As a team, we feel gratitude. We’re grateful to draw attention to this issue again, to play a small role in making people aware, because truthfully, the world doesn’t care. People die in these Mediterranean graveyards every day.

Personally, I don’t cry easily or get emotional quickly. Yet on that day, feeling joy for saving four, I paused — realising we’d probably never know what happened to the other thirty-three. We’d never hear from them again. I also realised other missing boats had likely sunk and over a hundred people might have died at that moment.

We rejoice in saving four lives or speaking out, saying, “Look what’s happening!” — but countless others slip away into silence. I asked myself: Is this really something to be happy about? It was incredibly difficult for me — emotionally and mentally.

The four we rescued were later picked up from our boat by Greek authorities, four or five hours after we pulled them from the water.

How long have you been preparing for this direct action?

We’ve been working intensely for over a year and a half just to get this ship to sail toward Gaza. After October 7, when the massacres in Gaza escalated, we pushed even harder. One of our partner ships was bombed. But we didn’t stop. We quickly mobilised a second ship — Madleen — and moved forward with whatever resources we had.

And let me be clear: our mission is not about ego or a personal adventure. It’s not about sailing for seven days just to be arrested by Israel, detained, and deported. That means nothing to us.

We’re not doing this for individual recognition. We’re doing this for a cause much bigger than ourselves. We have just two days left to reach Gaza. This means we’re about to face Israel — if they try to stop us. Otherwise, we will reach Gaza.

Israel has already clearly said it will block us. Yes, public support is there. Many people stand with us — we hear that. But is it enough? We’ll find out in the next 48–50 hours.

Personally, I think it’s still not enough. Because Israel continues to act freely. It still fears no one. There are no real sanctions. There is no accountability. Still, we hold on to a small hope — for humanity. I hope this story doesn’t end with: “They sailed to Gaza and were bombed," or "They sailed to Gaza and were arrested and sent back.”

Who are your local partners in Gaza that are going to help you deliver the aid, if you land?

If we enter Gaza, we must note that there is no port. First, we’ll find a suitable spot on the coast to approach. Then, we’ll likely transfer aid using a small boat.

The maximum aid this ship can carry — even fully packed — is just one truckload. This is symbolic. We carry various items, including medical supplies, stacked in every space.

Symbolically, we carry a bit of everything. Distributing supplies in Gaza will be easy and fast. We can do that ourselves.

However, the main goal is to break the blockade. The issue isn’t delivering aid but the blockade’s existence. Thousands of trucks wait at the borders. Tons of food and aid rot. Inside Gaza, people are starving or being killed by bombs. Israel blocks basic aid due to the blockade.

Our mission is clear: Break the Siege. We set out as the eyes, ears, and voice of the world.

Yes, we will enter Gaza, but more importantly, we aim to pave the way for unrestricted humanitarian aid. We strive to lift the blockade, restore basic rights, and help end the war. Otherwise, we could just send aid to Egypt and wait at the Rafah crossing, hoping Israel allows it in. Many aid groups already do this, but fail.

What we carry is at most a single truckload, maybe less. This can’t meet the needs of over 1.5 million starving and bombarded people.

If we had a bigger ship, we’d fill it with aid and people. We once had a larger ship — but it was bombed. Now, this small boat is full.

At this point, the aid amount isn’t the most important.

What matters is that it’s not enough. It will never be sufficient. Our core mission is to break the blockade and ensure large-scale aid reaches Gaza urgently. Time is running out. People have started dying from hunger.

What is your main message right now to Western governments and people on Gaza?

Right now, we’re not just trying to send a message to Western governments — but to the entire world. This is a global crisis, but Western governments bear particular responsibility. They continue political, economic, and military relations with Israel, support it, send weapons, and shield it from consequences. In many ways, they are complicit.

Despite witnessing a genocide, clearly visible on social media, these governments censor the media, manipulate the narrative, and pretend nothing is happening. They deny the truth with childish excuses, using propaganda to sabotage justice. They are as guilty as Israel for allowing it.

Laws, constitutions, and courts exist to ensure safety and justice, and prevent crimes from repeating. When someone commits murder, the legal system steps in. If it fails, a murderer becomes a serial killer. The Israeli government has become a serial killer. Unless action is taken, it will continue. Stopping this responsibility lies with humanity.

If democracy truly exists, the media must not be censored. The truth should be revealed fully. Western powers criticise censorship in the Middle East and Asia, but they now do the same themselves. The double standards between Ukraine and Gaza are contradictory. They destroy belief in democracy and human rights, leading to Europe’s downfall. They don’t realise it, but they’re digging their own grave.

Where there is no order and no rule-following, corruption spreads. In a corrupted system, peace and stability cannot exist. Europe is destroying its own peace.

Governments are chosen by the people. If people are dissatisfied, they will be replaced. Public awareness is key: "We are powerful." If we speak up as the majority, governments will follow our will. The real responsibility lies with the people.

Our core message: End this injustice now. This is leading to your downfall, you just don’t see it. History shows that regimes, whether dictatorships, democracies, or monarchies, that fail to follow their own laws collapse.

Right now, you’re preparing your own collapse. This isn’t a threat or prophecy — it’s history. No such system survives long-term. You’re not immune.

If you want to avoid chaos in Europe and the West, if you want peace and stability, follow your principles. Stop the double standards.

If you want to present yourselves as a democracy, act like it. Otherwise, no one will believe you, and unrest will rise within your people.

Do you hope that this action will encourage new forms of solidarity back in the West?

Yes, I hope this action sparks the seed of solidarity. I hope it paves the way. That we become a tool, a shovel, a means to plant that seed in the soil.

If we truly want to be good, we must stand up to evil, even if it costs us something. We must be willing to sacrifice our time, our comfort, even parts of our own lives.

And of course, the more we act together, in unity, the more effective this becomes. Otherwise, if only a small minority walks this path while the majority remains indifferent, those true, active good people will quietly disappear from the world. And this broken system will continue.

Who have you received the most support from? Anyone surprising?

Until now, the strongest support has always come from the people — not from the UN, not from the EU establishment. Of course, institutional support is necessary, and ideally, it should be stronger and more consistent. But we’ve learned not to rely on it.

What truly makes us hopeful is seeing parts of the global public opinion begin to awaken — seeing people start to speak out and take a stand against this injustice. That’s what gives us strength.

And what about the biggest form of discouragement? It's the silence of society — the segment that chooses to look away, that continues life as usual, that remains indifferent. That, for us, is the greatest discouragement.

We are also disheartened by the states that remain silent in the face of threats, that fail to raise their voices when we are treated unjustly, that ignore our calls, erase us from media coverage, or try to discredit us.

Just a month and a half ago, our ship was stopped in Malta — right at the edge of European waters. But the people stood up to defend us. It’s the people who have always been our shield — and it’s the people we will continue to rely on.

I should mention that we’re struggling to maintain and equip our vessels. Owning these ships, sending them out to sea — it's a massive financial burden. And we are stretched thin economically. But we keep pushing forward, doing what we can with what little we have.

They bombed our large ship. We repaired a smaller one and found a way through. But we know that when we arrive, Israel will seize everything. They won’t return the boat — because they know if they do, we’ll sail again. And they don’t want that.

It’s a vicious cycle. Exhausting. But we keep going. Because we feel responsible. We feel accountable. And we will continue.

Sebastian Shehadi is a freelance journalist and a contributing writer at the New Statesman. 

Follow him on X: @seblebanon