Description

Photos:
Hashem Azzeh with his young daughter (date unknown)

Hashem Azzeh and his wife, Nisreen (date unknown)

Hashem Azzeh and Um Mohammad, Hebron’s Old City, 2015 (Photo credit: Muftah)

Hashem Azzeh (date unknown)
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Video:
Hashem Azzeh describing the violence he and his family experienced at the hands of Israeli settlers and the IDF
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HEBRON (Ma'an) -- A 54-year-old Palestinian died on Wednesday from excessive tear gas inhalation during clashes between Palestinian youths and Israeli forces in Hebron, medical sources said.

A doctor in Hebron's government hospital told Ma'an that the Palestinian, identified as Hashem al-Azzeh, had a previous history of cardiac disease.

Locals told Ma'an that he was a resident of the Tel Rumeida area of Hebron, and was at Bab al-Zawiya in central Hebron when he suffered excessive tear gas inhalation.

He was rushed to hospital, where doctors pronounced him dead.

Fierce clashes erupted across Hebron on Wednesday after two Palestinian teenagers were shot dead late on Tuesday after allegedly attempting a stabbing attack at a military checkpoint.

Several Palestinians were injured with rubber-coated steel bullets during the clashes at Bab al-Zawiya as well as on Tareq Bin Ziyad Street in Hebron, while several others suffered excessive tear gas inhalation.

Meanwhile, in the Dawwara area of Sair in northern Hebron, another Palestinian was reportedly shot and wounded with a live round in the chest during clashes there.
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After years of peaceful protest, Hebron doctor dies in tear gas

by Killian Redden for Ma'an, Oct 22, 2015

BETHLEHEM (Ma’an) -- Dr. Hashem al-Azzeh, who died on Wednesday after suffering excessive tear gas inhalation in Hebron’s Old City, was the latest victim of the Israeli settlement policies he spent most of his life struggling against.

The 54-year-old activist and medical doctor was one of a few Palestinians who chose to remain with his family in Tel Rumeida, a neighborhood in central Hebron that over the course of decades has seen most of its Palestinian residents pushed out by aggressive Israeli settlers.

On Wednesday, after experiencing chest pains in his home, he found himself trapped.

His family called an ambulance, but it was unable to reach him due to a series of Israeli army checkpoints along the nearby Shuhada Street, his niece Sundus al-Azzeh told Ma’an.

Hashem began to walk toward the checkpoint at Bab al-Zawiya, where fierce clashes were underway as Palestinians protested the death of two Palestinian teenagers shot dead the night before.
Once there, however, Sundus said that Israeli soldiers stopped him from moving on, and he soon found himself engulfed by tear gas. Unable to breath, he collapsed.

He was rushed to Hebron’s governmental hospital, but doctors were unable to save him.

A doctor told Ma’an that Hashem had a history of cardiovascular disease, but it was tear gas inhalation that killed him.

Sundus said she was at his side when he passed away -- it was the first time she had seen someone die.

‘Daily attacks’

Palestinians’ freedom of movement in Tel Rumeida was severely restricted in 1994, after an American-born Israeli settler, Baruch Goldstein, massacred 29 Palestinians in the Old City’s Ibrahimi Mosque.

While most Palestinians chose to leave the neighborhood, Hashem chose to remain, at one point even refusing an Israeli offer to buy his home.

“He wanted to face the settlers,” said Jawad Abu Aisheh, who works in the nearby Youth Against Settlements activist group. It was Hashem’s belief that if every Palestinian were to leave, nothing would stop the settlers from taking all their land.

He began to guide foreigners through the divided city, showing them Hebron’s illegal settlements, the military checkpoints, and the streets entirely closed to Palestinians.

Abu Aisheh said that Hashem viewed these tours as “non-violent means to defend himself.”

However, life in the neighborhood was a constant struggle.
“You could say that the attacks were daily,” said Abu Aisheh, adding that when the settlers did not physically assault Hashem and his family, they would swear at them, demanding that they leave for Jordan.

Sometimes, the soldiers refused him entry through the Shuhada Street checkpoint, and he would have to take a dangerous back-route through olive trees and fences, where he risked arrest by Israeli forces.

In footage filmed before his death, Hashem said that his wife had suffered two miscarriages after settler attacks, while a stone was used to destroy the teeth of his nine-year-old nephew.

“Later on, they came and attacked us inside our houses,” Hashem said, describing how they destroyed the furniture, and smashed his head and teeth with the butts of their guns.

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by Muftah.org

Hashem Azzeh was the Israeli government’s worst nightmare.

First, he was Palestinian. Second, he was educated, a medical doctor. Third, he was a leader in his community. Which brings us to his next offense, he was a peace activist. Finally, and perhaps most aggravating for the Israeli state, he adamantly refused to be forced from his home in Hebron’s Old City – though the IDF and Israeli settlers, who lived in houses perched right above his, never tired of using intimidation and violence to try and push Hashem and his young family from their home.

IDF soldiers are a constant presence in the Old City, providing cover for the approximately 500 Israeli settlers who lord over and terrorize the tens of thousands of Palestinians who live in this part of Hebron.

Today, October 21, those soldiers killed Hashem Azzeh.

Hashem was not someone who could be cowed or silenced by fear. Even after being sentenced by the IDF to house arrest for several years, a punishment that caused him to lose his medical job with the UN, Hashem did not stop advocating for the liberation of his people.

He managed a psychological support group for members of his community, encouraging them to speak about the trauma that was a part of their daily lives. Together with his wife, Nisreen, he created a social enterprise for Hebron’s young Palestinian women, helping them to learn skills and earn money to support themselves and their families.

When members of his community were in need of help, Hashem was there to support them. In July, we published an article about one of the people touched by Hashem’s caring character: eighty-year-old Zahirah Eweidah Dandees. Known as “Um Mohammad,” she is among the countless Palestinians in Hebron “who have been victims of the settler-state repression machine.”

Recently, Um Mohammed was forced from her home by settlers, and refused re-entry by the IDF, who barred the front door of her house. Homeless and without any close family in the city, Um Mohammed found a friend in Hashem, who arranged for her to stay in a house across the street from her own, ensuring the elderly woman had a roof over her head. Hashem also helped Um Mohammed secure legal representation to undertake the lengthy court battle to try and get her house back.

In many ways, Hashem was Hebron’s unofficial spokesperson. Only this past Saturday, October 17, he was quoted in a piece for the Middle East Eye, describing the impunity with which settlers in the Old City have been killing young Palestinians: “The settlers feel confident that they have a free pass to kill Palestinians here,” he said. “We have asked the soldiers to help stop the settlers but they said it’s not their role and that we should leave the city.”

Hashem would regularly give tours of the Old City to internationals, educating them about the Israeli occupation of Palestine, generally, and his city, more specifically. He was bold and would not shy away from standing a few feet from an armed IDF soldier and recounting, for tour participants, the Israeli government’s litany of violations and crimes against the Palestinians.

Ravina Ishtiaq, one of Hashem’s many friends (he was a man who made friends so easily) had this to say about his passing:

The heart is heavy tonight upon the news of Hashem Azzeh passing away little over 2 hours ago through tear gas inhalation fired upon him by the Israeli army.

He was a man who showed the world the courage and resistance of Palestine.

He stood for what he believed and that belief inspired a generation.
He rejected millions from the Israeli government to sell his land, his land was his pride and his pride was Palestine.

I remember him talking to us in his home in Hebron where his wife made us the most amazing food. He told us of his struggle, his battle to simply survive each day. Israeli settlers poisoned his trees, cut off the water supply, fired upon his home, they broke into his house and beat him and his wife, Nisreen, causing her to miscarry her baby on two separate occasions, I could go on.

But today his pain is gone forever but he left a legacy that will forever survive.

My heart bleeds for his family, I pray Allah protects them from the evil they have endured.

May you finally find your peace Hashem and may Allah grant you the highest of heavens.

Palestine will be free.

Another friend, Milla Katerina Tuominen said this:

It was just couple of months ago when I visited Hashem and his family at Tel Rumeida settlement in Hebron (al-Khalil). Today I heard that this old Palestinian man had been killed by tear gas from the Israeli army. He was a medical doctor who had founded a voluntary clinic in his neighborhood. He was famous for inviting everyone to his house regardless their religious or ethnic background and served as a perfect example of non-violent resistance despite having faced a lot of violence and hardship himself. Unfortunately his killers will never face any consequences for their actions. I want to convey my sincere condolences to his wife and four children.

Yet another friend, who asked to be identified as “Yasmin,” said this about Hashem:

This is my friend Hashem Azzeh. A husband, a father and an inspiration to all. He was killed today by the Israeli Occupation Forces in Occupied Hebron. I feel so incredibly honoured to have known someone so courageous and so determined to free the people of Palestine and resist the oppressor. I cannot even begin to put into words how special he was; there’s no doubt about it, he truly touched the heart of every individual he ever met. He’s daily life was spent informing people about the struggle to live in an apartheid city where being Arab means you are constantly subject to violence and abuse by illegal armed settlers. Today is truly a loss for Palestine, but In the words of Hashem “we will win, we will be free” ‫#‏الله‬ يرحمه‪#‎freepalestine‬

In killing Hashem Azzeh, the Israeli government has undoubtedly removed a thorn from its side. But Hashem’s work does not end with his life. There are tens of thousands of people in Palestine who will carry it forward. His legacy will remain vibrant and alive, through them, no matter how hard the Israeli government may try and eliminate the Hashem’s of the world.

For those interesting in doing more, friends of Hashem Azzeh have created a Facebook page and started a GoFundMe fundraiser to support Hashem’s wife and 4 young children.
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by Sarah Robinson, EAPPI Human Rights Observer, entry from her personal blog, dated Oct 24, 2014

The olive harvest in Palestine is in full swing. Ladders, tarps, buckets, and tools dot the hillside in a sign of natural activity. The majority of Hebron’s olive trees are hundreds of years old. Their thick trunks contort into long branches dressed with grey-green leaves and gripping black and green olives. Most of the olives will be used for oil. Even the small, shrivelled olives are useful. Olive harvesting is a treasured part of Palestinian society; everyone gets involved, it’s a family affair.

Today, 24 October, we picked olives in the Tel Rumeida area of Hebron. Tel Rumeida is perched on the top of a hill with sweeping views of the city and housing Palestinian residents and Israeli settlers and soldiers. It is a volatile hill-top with frequent reports of settler violence and harassment. Just last week settlers tore down a fence erected around a Palestinian property. During the olive harvest it is common for settlers to harass pickers and often prevent them from reaching their trees. A resident of Tel Rumeida, Hashem, was able to harvest his trees last week for the first time in 14 years. This was made possible by the international presence from groups like CPT, EAPPI, and ISM. Today we picked olives at the Youth Against Settlements (YAS) house.

The olive picking team was a wonderful mix of cultures and backgrounds all equally committed to working together peacefully. There was the Christian Peacemakers Team (CPT) with members from the United States and Palestine. There were many local Palestinians from YAS. A film maker team was recording the activities for an upcoming documentary. And there were several Israelis who came with Rabbis for Human Rights. Multiple languages and accents cheerfully filled the air.

An elderly, small Israeli woman was impossible to ignore. Short and plump, she came from Jerusalem where she has lived for many years after leaving South Africa. Her name is Natalia and she is a self-proclaimed Zionist. Zionism is a nationalist movement of Jews and Jewish culture that supports the creation of a Jewish homeland in the territory defined as the Land of Israel.[1] Unlike many Zionists, Natalia is as committed to the human rights of Palestinians as she is to the State of Israel. She is feisty and once she learned I was South African, she switched to perfect Afrikaans. Her weathered face and hands could tell stories for hours. We chatted briefly and she chastised me for not spending more time in Israel and getting the other side of the story. Natalia slowly and steadily picked olives all morning while keeping us entertained with anecdotes from her life.

One gentleman spent most of the morning wedged between branches high in the olive trees. He wore a kippah and his phone rang frequently. Rabbi Arik Ascherman is the president and senior rabbi at Rabbis for Human Rights, a group that “is the only rabbinic organization in Israel explicitly dedicated to human rights in Israel and the Occupied Territories.”[2] Rabbi Arik was unassuming, hardworking, and gracious.

Two young people caught my eye near the end of the picking session. An Israeli guy from Tel Aviv and a Palestinian girl from Hebron. They sat near each other on the tarp collecting the olives that had fallen to the ground. He spoke Hebrew, she spoke Arabic, and both spoke broken English. Despite the language barrier they shared stories of each other’s lives, sang songs, laughed, and connected. So many believe that a scene like this is impossible. They think that the differences are too great and the obstacles too dramatic. They proved not only that a connection like this is possible but also that it is simple.

After the olive picking was complete we sat down at a long table outside under the olive trees and shared a meal of chicken, rice, and salad. I was struck by how different we all were and yet, under an olive tree, we connected. It is sometimes impossible to find hope in this place. There is so much drama, so much hurt, so much anger, and so much fear. Today I felt a slight inkling of hope; gentle and quiet but persistent and true. We were not bothered by settlers or soldiers. As we were enjoying lunch I secretly hoped the settlers would come by so they could witness just how equal we all are and how simple it is to be together, peacefully, under an olive tree.

[1] Zionism: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zionism

[2] Rabbis for Human Rights: http://rhr.org.il/eng/about/