Israel's execution law is a war on Palestinian prisoners

It has been a month since the Knesset approved a law that allows the execution of Palestinian prisoners, but in reality, Israel never really refrained from this practice.

Already, during more than two years of genocide in Gaza, over 100 Palestinian prisoners died. These prisoners lost their lives in various prisons, either under torture practised by staff, or as a result of deliberate medical neglect by the Israeli state, and starvation policies all aimed at slowly eliminating them.

The prison service deprives detainees of basic rights, including showers (two minutes of hot water only), medication, and hygiene supplies, even weaponizing the spread of scabies. Prisoners are denied radios or watches, leaving them unable to distinguish day from night.

Just recently, journalist Marwan Harzallah died in Israeli custody, and no details about the circumstances of his passing have been issued.

Even Palestinian children are not safe from this treatment. Following pressure, the Israeli public prosecutor admitted that the body of 14-year-old Wadi Alyan had been buried in a “cemetery of numbers” (Israel's secret burial site). This happened months ago, but authorities had neither notified his lawyer nor his family after withholding his body.

An Israeli judicial report also noted that 17-year-old detainee Walid Khaled died in Megiddo prison from starvation.

In recent years, harrowing testimonies have emerged from released prisoners, lawyers, international and Israeli rights organisations. These stories have also been included in the latest B’Tselem report. These accounts describe the “hell on earth” that prisoners have been forced to live in, referencing those who died under torture in brutal detention camps, above and below ground, such as in Sde Teiman and Rakevet.

The monthly statistical report on Palestinian prisoners indicates the number has exceeded 9,350, including 56 women, 3,385 administrative detainees, and 350 children.

Distracting from years of crime

Zionist brutality sought to sow confusion when it passed the law on 30 March. It attempted to overshadow the commemoration of Land Day amidst regional upheaval following the US-Israel war on Iran. A time when, now more than ever, people need a sense of steadfastness and resistance.

Instead, the day was marked by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and far-right Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, who were both wearing pins symbolising the gallows – raising their champagne glasses before the world, in pride over legalising the execution of Palestinian prisoners.

This colonial backdrop carried heavy symbolism, as thousands of prisoners’ families watched the celebrations by Israeli politicians over more ‘official’ ways for their children and loved ones to be killed at the hands of Israel.

Prisoners also remain completely cut off from the outside world, including their families and rights organisations, and since October 2023, even the Red Cross. Lawyer visits have also been suspended since the start of the war in Iran.

Israel has also long been systematically abusing prisoners and their families through travel bans, which are imposed without justification, even on those seeking medical treatment.

Furthermore, Rekevet and Sde Teiman, where so many of the crimes against prisoners are committed, are referred to as “elite prisoners” for “unlawful combatants", as though to justify what takes place. Gaza’s doctors, civil defence personnel, and nurses are considered “illegal fighters” by the occupation that detains them under harsh, inhumane conditions. This already constitutes a form of slow execution, exemplified by the killing of Dr Adnan Al-Bursh, who died under torture in Israeli detention.

What this moment represents

Certainly, the move to legalise executions of Palestinians isn’t surprising, given Zionism has acted with impunity for 77 years. What is deeply painful, however, is that this colonial project would not have dared to take such a step without the defeat of Arab consciousness.

Given the region's lack of action over two years of livestreamed genocide, the Israeli government was likely expecting little response from surrounding leaders regarding the plight of Palestinian prisoners.

In fact, a deeply worrying sign of the weakness of Palestinian collective consciousness is that two Druze lawmakers voted in favour of the execution law. The Zionist movement has drawn many Druze into military service and into its colonial project, detaching a significant part of this community from its Palestinian identity and "Hebraising" their affiliation with the occupation state. 

This step is not surprising in its arrogance. If imprisonment aims to strip prisoners of their humanity, then legalising their killing aims to deter their social base from legitimising their struggle. It is also about punishing any future resistance from the prisoner movement.

This is clear to see with the treatment reserved for leaders of the prisoner movement, who face severe repression. The case of Marwan Barghouti illustrates this targeted abuse. He has faced prolonged solitary confinement, repeated beatings, and medical neglect.

Certainly, this is a law aimed at breaking a people united around the political prisoners’ fight for freedom.

All of these practices contradict Israel’s own law on prisoners’ civil rights. For example, the law grants families and lawyers the right to know detainees’ locations. But as we know, it is one rule for Palestinians…

In fact, even the Israeli Supreme Court has been complicit in the forced disappearance of Gaza detainees by delaying cases or suspending responses to lawyers’ petitions. Thousands of prisoners from the Strip remain unaccounted for, neither confirmed alive nor declared dead. Shouldn’t this have long been recognised as prolonged execution?

This unjust law constitutes a legal crime for which Israel bears responsibility, but the international community also shares blame.

Despite its brutality, the law reflects a faltering state resorting to increased violence. It is the reaction of a defeated power that grows more aggressive as it recognises its political, military, and moral failure. It is also the execution of Israel’s image as a democracy.

Article translated from Arabic by Afrah Almatwari.

Ichrak Krouna is a Tunisian writer and researcher based in Paris.

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Opinions expressed in this article remain those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The New Arab, its editorial board or staff.