In Remembrance: Awdah Hathaleen

In remembrance of Awdah Hathaleen, who was murdered by an Israeli settler on Monday, July 28th, Unsettled Podcast has created a compilation of our previous conversations with him. Awdah was a 31-year-old father of three young sons, a teacher, a tireless activist for Palestinian rights and a frequent guest on Unsettled. He welcomed hundreds of international activists to Umm al-Kheir, his village in the West Bank, including Unsettled producers Emily and Max. 

The day after Awdah’s death, the Israeli military raided Umm al-Kheir, arresting several friends and family members. At the time of this episode release, many are still in jail. On Thursday, July 31st, more than seventy women in Umm al-Kheir began a hunger strike to demand the release of Awdah's body to his family, which Israel is reportedly refusing until the community promises not to bury him in Umm al-Kheir.

Eyewitness Testimony of July 28th:

"‘The most peaceful person’: Umm Al-Khair mourns activist slain by Israeli settler," +972 Magazine (July 29, 2025)

Awdah's writings:

"In Umm al-Khair, the occupation is damning us to multigenerational trauma," +972 Magazine (July 22, 2024)
"We don’t just live through one home demolition — we live through them all," +972 Magazine (November 18, 2021)

Awdah on Unsettled Podcast:

The Birthday Party (2022 Series)
"Escalation in the South Hebron Hills: Awdah Hathaleen" (January 27, 2023)

Unsettled Reporting on The South Hebron Hills & Masafer Yatta

An Ask from Unsettled

Since the small team at Unsettled started producing the show seven and a half years ago, we've published almost 100 episodes — personal stories, expert interviews and reported documentaries. 

To keep going in 2025, we need the support of listeners like you. We're participating in a collaborative fundraising campaign to support independent journalism called NewMatch. Now until December 31st, donations of up to $1,000 will be matched, dollar for dollar. 

Donate here: https://unsettled.fundjournalism.org/donate/

"Ethnic cleansing by a thousand cuts": an update from the South Hebron Hills

In this episode of Unsettled, we hear from Ali Awad, a 26-year-old activist and translator living in Tuba, a village in a region of the West Bank called Masafer Yatta in the South Hebron Hills. Ali’s livelihood and wellbeing have always been vulnerable to Israeli settler violence and threats of expulsion by the government. But since October 7th 2023,  it's been like nothing he's ever seen. Ali shares about the past few months of restricted movement, violence from settlers, and his efforts to stay in his home.

We also speak to Maya Rosen, an American activist and journalist based in Jerusalem, about settler-soldier militias, and how her activism has changed. 

For More:

For more Maya and Ali, and for more context on the South Hebron Hills, listen to all of Unsettled's previous reporting on the area, collected in this Spotify playlist.

Matt Duss: "It is not a war of self-defense. It is a war of choice."

With the one year anniversary of October 7th last Monday, Unsettled followed up with previous guest Matt Duss to ask him about President Biden's approach to foreign policy, military escalations in Lebanon, and what the upcoming U.S. presidential election may mean for the U.S.' policy towards Israel.

Matt is a past president of the Foundation for Middle East Peace, and he was the foreign policy advisor to Senator Bernie Sanders for five years. He is currently the Executive Vice President of the Center for International Policy. 

For More:

Matt Duss: "This is not a moment where people are making good policy"

Rabbi Abby Stein: "There's a long, long road ahead"

It’s currently high holiday season, the holiest time in the Jewish calendar. Rosh Hashanah was last week and Yom Kippur begins tonight at sundown. The one year anniversary of October 7th fell in between. This year, there's a new resource — a High Holidays directory created by Rabbis for Ceasefire. Since their formation after October 7th, 2023, there are now hundreds of members of Rabbis for Ceasefire. They’ve provided pastoral care to college students participating in encampments, led Jewish ritual at protests and gotten arrested doing civil disobedience. One of their founding members is Rabbi Abby Stein.

In addition to being a Rabbi for Ceasefire, Abby is author who has regularly writes about gender and sexuality. In 2019 she published her memoir, “Becoming Eve: My Journey from Ultra Orthodox Rabbi to Transgender Woman.” Abby is also a member of Jews for Racial and Economic Justice, IfNotNow and the JVP Rabbinical Council. She’s currently part of the clergy team at Kolot Chayeinu in Brooklyn.

Unsettled Producer Emily Bell reached out to Abby to learn more about the Rabbis for Ceasefire High Holidays directory, and how spiritual leaders like her are approaching this sacred time of reflection and interpreting Torah during this confluence of dates.

For More:

Rabbis for Ceasefire

Rabbi Miriam Grossman: "We act and we do not wait for hope"

Shahd Safi's fight to reclaim hope

On October 31, 2023, Unsettled aired an interview with 22-year-old Shahd Safi, a university student and freelance journalist from Gaza. At the time, she was living in her grandparents house in Rafah, a couple miles away from her own home where she’d evacuated after October 7th. She was living with her siblings and cousins, unable to go to school or even leave the house much. For the past year, Shahd has had to make impossible calculations in order to survive. By December, her family was running out of their basic needs, waiting on long lines for water at mosques and from UN aid workers. In February, after hearing about a possible Israeli invasion of Rafah, Shahd started to think seriously about leaving Gaza. One year later, her circumstances are very different: she's now is in the U.S., pursuing a bachelor's degree in human rights and written arts. Unsettled has been in touch with Shahd throughout the year, following her journey. In this episode of Unsettled, Producer Ilana Levinson speaks with Shahd about the last year of her life: where she's been, and what she had to do to get where she is now.

Asaf Calderon: "The problem as we understand it is Zionism"

Today is October 7th, 2024. One year ago, thousands of militants led by Hamas launched a multi-front attack on Israeli towns and military bases, killing over 1,100 people and abducting over 250. Israel responded to the October 7th attack with one of the most destructive military campaigns in history, displacing most people in the already poverty-stricken, besieged Gaza Strip. To date, Israel has killed at least 41,000 people in Gaza– but experts say the numbers are likely higher.

How should we make sense of this anniversary? How should we mark it? Many Israelis and those whose sympathies lie with them will grieve, and make space to remember what was, for many, one of the worst days of their lives. But for thousands of Palestinians – and now Lebanese people, too– they’re still fighting for their survival. How can we stop and remember if the horror persists for so many?

Shortly after October 7th, 2023 Asaf Calderon left the Unsettled team as a producer, and started a new movement of anti-Zionist Israelis living in the United States. Last week, Unsettled Producer Ilana Levinson sat down with Asaf to talk about this movement, called Shoresh.

Our Voicemail Is Open

On October 14th, 2023, we set up a voicemail and invited listeners to share their thoughts and feelings with us. We received messages of grief, fear, and anger at the violence in Israel-Palestine. Now, somehow, we’re coming up on a year of atrocities and massacres, and the destruction of countless families and homes. Like many of our listeners, we’ve been thinking about the upcoming anniversary of October 7th.

So we wanted to open up our voicemail again. Send us your thoughts and messages– maybe to people in power, to someone you’re no longer in touch with, or maybe a stranger. You can call in with your name, or stay anonymous. Know that we may use your note in an upcoming episode of Unsettled or on our social media. Leave a message at 347-878-1359.

Tareq Baconi: The assassination of Ismail Haniyeh

Last Wednesday on July 31st, Hamas’s top political leader Ismail Haniyeh was killed in Iran. Haniyeh came to the capital city of Tehran for the presidential inauguration, when an explosive device went off in the guest house where he was staying. Just hours before, Haniyeh had met with Iranian Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Israel hasn’t taken responsibility for the attack, but they're widely believed to be responsible– especially given Israel’s history of targeted political assassinations. Haniyeh’s killing happened one day after Israel killed Hezbollah commander Fuad Shukr in Lebanon. 

Haniyeh was killed in the middle of ceasefire negotiations between Hamas and Israel. With the death toll in Gaza nearing 40,000, and the family members of the Israeli hostages desperately calling for a prisoner exchange, the pressure to come to an agreement has been mounting. But Ismail Haniyeh was a chief negotiator in those talks– and now, the chances of arriving at a deal seem further than ever.

Iran has vowed to retaliate against Israel for the attack on their soil. As of Thursday August 8th, that hasn’t happened yet, but many now fear that tensions could lead to a wider regional war. 

In this collaboration between Unsettled Podcast and Jewish Currents, Unsettled producer Ilana Levinson interviews Tareq Baconi, author of Hamas Contained: The Rise and Pacification of Palestinian Resistance to make sense of these developments and what Haniyeh’s assassination means for the future.

This episode was a collaboration between On the Nose and Unsettled Podcast. It was produced by Ilana Levinson, with Emily Bell, Arielle Angel, and Alex Kane. Music in this episode from Blue Dot Sessions.

Further Reading:

“Hamas Contained: The Rise and Pacification of Palestinian Resistance,” Tareq Baconi

“Hamas: Gaza (Ep 3),” Unsettled Podcast

“Tareq Baconi: ‘There’s no going back’,” Unsettled Podcast

“Regional War: An Explainer,” Alex Kane and Jonathan Shamir, Jewish Currents

The Columbia Encampment

On Tuesday April 30th, Columbia University President Minouche Shafik called the New York Police Department to clear the campus of students who had erected an encampment in solidarity with Palestine. Columbia's encampment was one of hundreds of similar campus demonstrations across the United States, many of which were also removed by the police. Unsettled visited Columbia's encampment the week before it was cleared, and spoke to some of those involved about what they hoped to achieve through their protest. 

Unsettled is produced by Emily Bell, Max Freedman, and Ilana Levinson, with support from Asaf Calderon. This episode was written and produced by Ilana Levinson. Our theme music is by Nat Rosenzweig. Additional music from Blue Dot Sessions.

'Ayeka': a new song from Aly Halpert

For this episode of Unsettled, we’re doing something we’ve never done before: premiering a new song.

Aly Halpert makes music used in synagogues and Jewish song circles. If you listened to our last episode featuring Rabbi Miriam Grossman, you heard Aly’s tune for the prayer 'Ashrei' as part of a service led by Rabbis for Ceasefire. Today, Aly is releasing a new song called 'Ayeka': the first time she has used her music to directly respond to the violence in Israel-Palestine. 

Aly spoke to Unsettled producer Ilana Levinson about her inspiration for  'Ayeka', her writing process, and what she hopes the song will do for listeners.

'Ayeka' Spotify Pre-Save Link

Aly Halpert on Bandcamp

Rabbi Miriam Grossman: “We act and we do not wait for hope”

Since the start of the Israel-Hamas war, grief and rage have brought thousands of people to the streets to demand a ceasefire. One of the many groups that have mobilized in the U.S. is Rabbis for Ceasefire. One of these rabbis is Miriam Grossman, who led until recently the congregation Kolot Chayeinu in Brooklyn, New York.

Unsettled producer Ilana Levinson recently sat down with Rabbi Miriam to ask her what it means to be a rabbi for ceasefire, especially when so many rabbis and other Jewish leaders are standing in lockstep with the state of Israel. Where in Jewish texts and traditions does she find the call to oppose the war? How does she keep going?

Unsettled is produced by Emily Bell, Max Freedman, and Ilana Levinson. Music in this episode from Blue Dot Sessions and Aly Halpert.

TRANSCRIPT

This past December, Rabbi Miriam Grossman stood in front of  a crowd of people gathered in Columbus Circle in Manhattan during Chanukah.

MIRIAM @ COLUMBUS CIRCLE: Together, we mourn the brutal murders of 1,200 Israelis and the kidnapping of 240 hostages. And we grieve the horrifying mass murder of over 17,000 Palestinians in Gaza, which includes, unspeakably, over 7,000 children.

Today, the Palestinian casualties are much higher. At the time of recording, over 28,000 in Gaza have been killed, at least 12,000 of them are children. 

MUSIC: “Flaked Paint”

Today is the 130th day of the Israel-Hamas war. 130 days of horrific violence, of devastation and atrocities, broadcast to our social media and television screens. Rage and grief have brought thousands of people to the streets en masse to demand a ceasefire. One of the many groups that’s mobilized in the U.S. around that call is Rabbis for Ceasefire. The group formed in October of 2023 in Today, and today 275 Rabbis have joined in opposition to the war. Miriam Grossman is one rabbi for ceasefire.

MIRIAM @ COLUMBUS CIRCLE: How do we keep going? How do we keep going for Gaza? How do we keep going for mutual safety for all Palestinians and Israelis? How do we keep going for all of us here? How do we keep the flame of our shared humanity alive? We act. We act and we do not wait for hope. We act and our actions draw hope closer back to us. Together…

MUSIC: “Grimmail”

Rabbi Miriam Grossman is no stranger to the team that makes Unsettled. In the fall, she married Max and his wife, Morgan. A few years ago she led a shiva for my dad, zichrono livracha. And I, Max, and our co-producer, Emily have all attended high holiday services at Kolot Chayeinu, where Miriam was the rabbi until recently. 

Miriam has ushered us, along with many others, through life cycle moments of all kinds, highs and lows. That's what many people rely on faith leaders for. But not only is this moment one of the more horrifying times, at least that I've seen, but it's also a collective wound that so many are feeling. What does it mean to be a Rabbi for Ceasefire, and what does that mean while so many other Rabbis are standing in lockstep with the state of Israel? Where in Torah does Miriam find the call to participate in Rabbis for Ceasefire?

In December of 2023 I sat down with Miriam to ask her some of those questions: 

ILANA: So I've always known you as a rabbi who is involved in, in Palestine liberation work. Can you tell me how you came to it?

MIRIAM: I came to it, um, a little bit of a windy road. I grew up, with a very, I would say right wing, Israel education. I grew up in a Jewish day school. My father was a rabbi. I was very close with my grandmother, who, as a small child had survived a pogrom. And that's how my family wound up here. So I think for me, the seeds of my Jewishness, but also the seeds of a commitment to, to facing oppressive violence and conditions, the conditions that produce and allow it, felt very interwoven with my Jewishness.

And there were a bunch of different moments that were sort of seedling moments to my looking back and facing what I had believed and what I had been taught as a child. One of them was eventually a relationship that I had, um, with a, with a friend from college who's Palestinian. And I just began to see, in some of her stories and experiences of, um, not being safe and not feeling safe, I could see my grandmother and I couldn't see myself. And I think it's a very dangerous game once we start comparing and, and saying this is equal to that and da, da, da, da. So not, not saying it that way, that what my grandmother experienced was like what this friend experienced or vice versa. But I think it was a bridge to beginning to, to looking at the course of history in a way that's total, in a way that doesn't deny my grandmother's experience, and then doesn't deny my friend's experience, as I had really been taught to deny her experience. 

ILANA: Up until October 14th, you were the rabbi at Kolot Chayeinu. October 14th was the week after October 7th, the Hamas attacks, um, and that was, that was your last day at Kolot, and you gave a sermon that made me cry. And, uh, I'd love for you to read some of that.

MIRIAM: Today I need to keep my humanity. Today I need to keep going even without hope because hope will come one day. I make a space for hope to come. I'm going to prepare her a beautiful room. I'm going to lure her towards me. I set a table for her arrival through action, through not turning away, through joining with others in mass to make change, by taking care of myself and others, by grieving and witnessing others’ grief. I set a table for hope to come and sit by living with radical compassion. I make her a place at my table, and she will come and sit there with me again one day. Maybe it's just not her time right now.

ILANA: Yeah, I still can't listen to it without tearing up. Oh, thank you for those words. Um, well, before I ask you how those words feel today, um, I want to go back to October 7th and how you experienced it and how the experience of that day led you to those words and to focusing on hope and its elusiveness.

MIRIAM: I mean it's hard to answer. It feels like it was, um, such a blur. Like a lot of Jewish people who have relationships with a broad range of Jewish community, and who also are passionate about Palestinian freedom, um, it meant that that time, that whole week was, it was a different thing to suddenly know people who were in mourning, who were Israelis in mourning, and to also suddenly, um, see people who I knew, if not people I knew closely, but who were, who were making genocidal statements. I, I think, I'm saying that's what I felt maybe somewhat naive about, that I hadn't really grappled with the extent of what would be unleashed and what was already there. And at the same time to begin to understand, uh, what, what was already happening to the people of Gaza, what was already dire and extreme condition of siege, um, that the bombing had already begun in those days, that children were already dying, that people of all ages were being murdered and were, were sort of struggling to survive under rubble already, that all those things were true. And it felt like looking down a well, like it was unclear what the bottom would be, and it was clear that it was just death all the way down.

Holding all of those things at once, um, that's what was sort of the backdrop of that sermon. And I think I focused on hope because I didn't have it. You know, this question of what is gonna be the fire that fuels that engine of sustained strategic collective action because it can't just be a sort of spur of the moment feeling. And I think I felt afraid of what I would do or not do or what others would do or not do without hope. And I just started thinking Jewishly that, it's always meant a lot to me that Jewishly, ritually, you don't have to feel necessarily a certain thing in order to do the ritual that's required of you even in a high stakes emotional moment, and how often that action is the gateway to feeling and then and then it, the sort of machine starts rolling.

MUSIC: “Grimmail”

ILANA: I wonder if you experience this. There's something that's been happening for me since October 7th that makes me uneasy. What I see from people who love Judaism like I love Judaism is that one can interpret it and see it and see it, use it for any world view or agenda and I want it so badly to be something that points us towards shared humanity and justice and love and, and I, I can see it being used for something that I see as totally different than that. Yes. Do you experience that? 

MIRIAM: And it is. It is being used for that. It is being used for that. It is fully both of these things at once. You know? It's hard, I think, also to talk about what's happening Jewishly because, step one, stage one, square one, is just we are witnessing an atrocity funded by the United States that the international community, with some exceptions, is largely like allowing to go on. Which is to say that, um, the bigger conversation is about the whole world and the West, and specifically about a sort of bigger right wing, political lobbying project agenda that is bigger than the Jewish right and the Jewish left put all together, you know? Just because sometimes I think Jewishly, um, I don't wanna get trapped in just having like the one conversation in the room I'm in, about us.

That being said, I am a Rabbi, and am obviously interested about what is happening Jewishly and, um, I, I really struggled, um, when Netanyahu made his statements about Amalek, this idea of this sort of like. Biblical, tribal enemy of the Jewish people that attacks from behind and that then, the Jewish people have to annihilate. He was talking about Hamas and his words were slippery and I think the implication was obviously, the people of Gaza and the Palestinian people, period. And that was a terrifying, genocidal implication to make like plainly for the world and I think I just as a rabbi heard it so much more loudly. I felt like my ears were ringing with this horrible use of Torah and I just kept thinking, I don't learn Torah from a corrupt racist supremacist warmonger. That's not where I learn Torah. 

But it is happening. I can't say that that's not Torah that's being put on the world stage by someone and that people are agreeing with. Meaning I can't just say um, that's not Judaism. Because that is his use of it right now. Judaism is nothing if not a changing tradition. It is an evolving lifeline and there has always been living tension as ancestors before us have like wrestled through what this tradition, what it would be and become and what would survive. And so for those of us who want to pass forward a Judaism that is life-affirming and that is liberatory, it's just on us to keep doing that. It's just on us to keep reclaiming it. 

MUSIC: “Grimmail”

But it's not only people in power, like Netanyahu, who are using the Torah to justify continuing the war. In November, hundreds of people gathered at the National Mall in Washington D.C., where many chanted:

MARCH FOR ISRAEL:  No ceasefire, no ceasefire…

No ceasefire. 

And in December, over 700 Rabbis signed an open letter opposing a ceasefire. For a lot of Jewish people, the idea that we've had this centuries-long connection to the Holy Land is one that now looks like support for the modern state of Israel. I put that to Miriam.

MIRIAM: I think the very, very, very first thing is, um, we can have a real, and, and hard and important conversation about Torah and about Jewish history and about diaspora and diasporas, and we can have all these conversations. The first conversation before all that is, what are the human rights violations that are happening on the ground? Torah is many things. It is a tree of life that animates my Jewish life, my spiritual life. It is not a modern legal document that we are all looking to for our human rights specificities. To talk about what is in Torah over talking about, clear, stated, observed human rights violations, is a misdirection so that's the first thing I would say to that is, um. Sort of let's look at international law, you know. I think the second thing I would say is: I think to look to Zion and pray is Zion theology. That is, to have your heart animated by a relationship to a spiritual past and by centuries and centuries of people holding that same relationship, that is not the same thing as a modern political ideology. And you can say that that ideology is in relationship to that theology. And yes, of course, to say that Jewish people for centuries and for generations and generations have had a relationship of love and sanctity and looking with awe towards Jerusalem is not the same thing as a state where Jewish people have rights that other people do not have.

ILANA: That one's not in the Torah.

MIRIAM: Yeah. Yes.

ILANA: Yeah. Okay, well so, so, but you, you have been working together with a group of rabbis called Rabbis for Ceasefire, and I would love to hear how that came to be and what that work looks like, and how you're feeling in it. 

MIRIAM: Yeah, so Rabbis for Ceasefire is a sort of ad hoc group of rabbis organizing together really across movement denominations. I think one of the things that's really beautiful about it is that it's both rabbis who've been involved in this work for all of their rabbinic lives, their whole rabbinate, and then rabbis who this is the sort of first time they're taking action in this way. And I just think that's really powerful. And I think now is a moment that needs everyone, and that calls for everyone, and how can we organize ourselves in ways that, um, open up the maximum call, really, um, and not sort of hewing ourselves into really tight categories and, and then wonder why we're not in even more mass movement, so I’ve been really inspired by these rabbis, many have been taking action you know long before I was, and many who are taking action now for the very first time. 

I think the real core of Rabbis for Ceasefire is two things, politically. First, is that there is no military solution. There's only a political solution. And so ceasefire, to us, as for many people, is a sort of shorthand that means de-escalation. That means intervention by the international community in Israel-Palestine to address these broader conditions – what I, speaking as myself here, not as Rabbis for Ceasefire, but conditions that I would call apartheid, in addition to occupation and siege. But to sort of see that as part of the call of the moment to address the instability and the crisis, period. And that ceasefire also means a full negotiated hostage exchange, prisoner exchange of everyone for everyone. 

Really, I think, the call of Rabbis for Ceasefire is, um, number two, also rooted in a Torah of life. We were talking before about, sort of, uses of Torah that are violent. I think our primary, um, core anchoring Torah itself is the idea that pikuach nefesh, this rabbinic obligation to save a life above all else, is the call of the moment. And so the call of the moment is that ceasefire is immediately, urgently necessary, right now, today, every hour, to save as many lives as possible, right now. And that it is also urgently necessary for the future, because every day without a ceasefire pushes us further and further and further into an even more entrenched and impossible future. So pikuach nefesh is for now and for the future. And as part of that sort of call to life is also the idea that every human being is created in God's image, and that what we are witnessing, that is a desecration of God's image. And that October 7th was a desecration of God's image, and then we have seen an unthinkable, an unthinkable number of human beings have been murdered since then. And it's not just that they have been killed, it's that they have been killed in ways also that are desecrations, and that people dying under rubble is not death with dignity. And many of the Israelis who were murdered also did not die with dignity. And it's just all true at once. It's just all true at once. And I think the call of the moment is to say, we will fight for life in the biggest sense, which means we will mourn all of these deaths. We will mourn the Israeli deaths. We will mourn these Palestinian deaths. And beyond that, we will say that this system of occupation, apartheid, and siege is a system that yields death. And that the call to life and that to see it as a Torah of life, a life giving Torah, a tree of life, is to fight for life, is to find a political solution that centers life and centers life with dignity above all. 

MUSIC: “Ashrei”

On November 13th, the day before the March for Israel, I watched the first Rabbis for Ceasefire public gathering via livestream. It was for shacharit, the jewish daily morning service – that's morning like, AM, not mourning like, grieving. But at this particular shacharit service, there was a lot of room for that too – in addition to prayers and song and sermons and reading Torah.

MUSIC: “Romemu”

The service was outside, in front of Congress in Washington, DC. Attendees were surrounded by banners made to look like Torah scrolls, with the Hebrew words "B'Tselem Elohim," and in English, "All life is sacred and precious." 

ILANA: I remember seeing rabbis outside of Congress. You know, I am a person who's deeply involved in Jewish life, and I have been called directly an antisemite. And so for me, seeing rabbis wrapped in talitot and holding Torah and calling for a humane solution and end to violence. For me, it was just, it was just so powerful to be able to feel like my Judaism is my own.

MIRIAM: Amen. Amen. I mean, and the truth is it's emotional, but it's like it was, um, that's why we did it. You know? And I think, um, I just, we were, we were praying outside and it was a full shacharit service, full Torah reading, full all of it, and I think, um, I just remember looking around at one moment and thinking, you know, it was beyond denominations, beyond even exact political affiliations, even beyond exact political affiliations on this issue. And that, um, I remember looking around and thinking, my God, these are some of the greatest rabbinic minds that I've ever had the privilege to learn with and to pray with, and some of the people who most moved me to tears in their davening, period. And I just kept thinking, I can't believe all these people are alive at the same time. And then thinking that they're all alive at the same time and they're all called to stop this right now.

I have, um, a colleague, Rabbi Salem Pierce, she reminded us that Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel went to DC during the Vietnam War because he said, I can't open my siddur, I can't open my prayer book to pray without seeing napalm bombs on children. When I open the siddur, I see napalm bombs dropped on children. And she said, that's why I've come to DC. Because I can't open my siddur and not see bombs falling on Gaza. And we did pray. We did open our siddurs. But to say, we're gonna open our siddurs and we're gonna not deny what's happening, we're gonna publicly with all our might and all our force, in our davening name what is happening and demand that it stop. And demand that it stop happening in our name and with our tax dollars as American Jews, in addition to as rabbis.

MUSIC: “Grimmail”

I hope that it only continues to all get bigger and bigger, and that there are more and more rabbis, more and more Jewish professionals, more and more Jewish people, in addition to more and more Americans and more and more people all around the world, who can really understand that safety is, um, it's not one people's safety over another, it’s all of our safety together collectively, in every single place that we live. And that's just the truth. And that's just the only lasting enduring safety, is mutual and total safety.

ILANA: Do you have a stated target for, in Rabbis for Ceasefire? Is the target policy makers? Is it other Jews? 

MIRIAM: I think the target is all of these things, um, spoken differently. I think for policy makers, it is to say that the Jewish community is not a monolith. That there are not just, um, Jewish people, but rabbis who represent, um, each of us, so many Jewish people and Jewish communities that stand against what's happening. Two, I think there has been this desire to, um, energize and catalyze and speak to American Jews who feel like they don't have rabbis right now, or they don't have a Judaism that speaks to them right now. To say, this can be a source of grounding and inspiration in your life, and that it doesn't have to be, but that it's here. And so, for instance, we've, we've had gatherings, um, shloshim is when you mark 30 days after the death of a loved one, and so we had, a month of daily shloshim gatherings after, uh, 30 days after October 7th, that was sort of a rolling gathering to learn Jewish values about ceasefire that various rabbis led every day. And we're offering pastoral counseling and care for people who feel like they need a rabbi right now. All of this is tending to our collective Jewish present and future. And at the same time, we're just, we're very rooted in action.

MUSIC: “Grimmail”

ILANA: You haven't been a rabbi, you can correct me if I'm wrong, in, in a mainstream, in like a mainstream establishment Jewish world. Um, but I'm wondering if, if you do ever feel some opposition or if you feel, um, if, if it's challenging to be a rabbi. 

MIRIAM: Oh, sure. Sure. I think I have tried to build and keep a lot of relationships, frankly, with the mainstream Jewish world. Um, and I'm hanging on. I’m hanging on, I'm hanging in, you know? Um, it doesn't mean I've not heard things that are really painful, or sometimes in bad faith, or sometimes ugly. But the truth is, that's not all I hear. And I do have these relationships that feel like people, um, can hear that I'm coming from love and stay in it with me. I don't think everyone is obligated to try to figure out how to hold those kinds of relationships together, but for me as a rabbi, I do think I have taken on some degree of relational commitment to both love and serve the Jewish people, including people who disagree with me. And so just, I, I think probably there are a lot of Jewish professionals that are struggling with what does it mean to sort of publicly say, I love you, and I care about you, and I disagree with you, and I'm not going to stop, and I'm not going to stop my obligation and commitment to, to lead, to serve, to love, but that that's going to include a call to, for us all to collectively change.

ILANA: What would you say to a young rabbinical student or an early rabbi who would like to say something but maybe they're in an institutional Jewish space or, um, or they're scared for their position in the Jewish community?

MIRIAM: Yeah. Yeah. I would say, first of all, I'm sorry. And I don't know if it'll be okay. I don't know if you will lose something and how much that will cost you, and I'm sorry for that. I would say that the more you do it, the easier it is, because the less you have to think about it. And then when something is lost, there is also community and possibility that surrounds you, to sort of hold you in the wake of that. That doesn't mean it's easy, but I do think that the more of us do it, the safer we all are together. I would say also for rabbinical students you know, now is the time in a different way. There's certain risks you can take, that you can gauge step by step as you go. And I would say to longer-term rabbis, if you were saving relationships, to push on people in hard times – I'll say this one day, I'm going to have these relationships here for one day, I'm going to be in the room to change things from the inside one day, I would say one day is now. One day is right now. 

If you've been waiting, then have a little faith, the hardest step and the hardest time is the first, so let’s do it that first time, and then keep going. 

MUSIC: “Grimmail”

MIRIAM @ COLUMBUS CIRCLE: I don't always feel hope. I don't feel hope every day. What I feel is love and obligation to my own Jewish child. And love and obligation to the children of my Palestinian friends who live in Abu Dis and Azaria. And from that place, the only choice is to fight for mutual lasting safety and to never, ever give up.

MUSIC: “Ashrei”

Starting tomorrow, February 14th, Rabbis for Ceasefire, together with other faith leaders, activists, and artists, will embark on a week-long ‘Pilgrimage for Peace.’ They’ll march from Independence Hall in Philadelphia to the White House to urge President Biden to call for an end to the war. 

The music you’re hearing now is from the musician Aly Halpert. You also heard this Ashrei tune that Aly composed in the clip from Rabbis for Ceasefire Shacharit service. In the next episode of Unsettled, we’ll talk to Aly, and premiere her new song that speaks to the present violence in Israel-Palestine. 

Unsettled is produced by Max Freedman, Emily Bell, and me, Ilana Levinson, with support from Asaf Calderon.  Additional music from Blue Dot Sessions. For more from Unsettled, follow us on Instagram at unsettled_pod, and make sure you subscribe, so you don’t miss the next episode.

An update from Isam Hamad

The last time we featured Isam Hamad on Unsettled was a few days after the October 7th attacks, when Israel had just begun its bombardment of the Gaza Strip. At the time, Isam and his family — including his 93-year old father and a son with cerebral palsy — were still in their home in Gaza City. But a few days later, they were forced to evacuate south to the city of Rafah, near the Egyptian border.

Before this war, the population of Rafah was about 250,000. Now, it’s over a million, with many families living in tents and some on the streets. Isam lives in a three-story house with 46 other people. Recently, he was able to get a family reunification visa from Ireland, because one of his children was born there. But he’s still waiting for approval to leave.

In this episode, producer Ilana Levinson talks to Isam Hamad about leaving his home, living in Rafah, and the difficult choices ahead.

Unsettled is produced by Emily Bell, Max Freedman, and Ilana Levinson, with support from Asaf Calderon. Music in this episode from Blue Dot Sessions.

TRANSCRIPT

[RING] 

Isam: Hello.

On Wednesday January 10th, I called Isam Hamad, who is currently living in a small apartment building with 46 other people – family members and coworkers – in the city of Rafah, in the southernmost part of the Gaza Strip.

Ilana: Hi, Isam?

Isam: Hi Ilana, how are you? 

If you’re a regular listener of Unsettled you may have heard Isam’s voice before. Isam manages a medical equipment company in Gaza, and I first spoke to him in 2018 about the Great March of Return, which brought thousands of nonviolent activists to the Gaza border fence for weekly protests that lasted over a year. Isam was one of the organizers.

I talked again with Isam just a few days after Hamas's October 7th attack on Israel. You can find that episode by looking for Isam's name in the Unsettled feed. At the time, Isam was still in his home in Gaza City, in the northern part of the Gaza Strip. But not long after we spoke, he was forced to evacuate. 

[MUSIC]

So with his wife, children, and grandchildren, Isam moved south - to his cousin’s house in Rafah. 

Before the 2023 war, the population of Rafah was about 250,000. Now, it’s over a million. Gaza was already one of the most densely populated places on earth. Now, half of its population is crammed into one city, with many families living in tents, and some on the streets.

For the past several months, I’ve been in touch with Isam by WhatsApp. He’s sent me scattered voice notes here and there, when he’s able to. Here’s one from December 2nd:

Isam: I am here for the seventh week in the southern part of Gaza. Unfortunately, it seems to be getting very hard here. Lots of killing and shelling as we saw exactly in the north of, in Gaza City and the north of Gaza Governorate. We are here, okay. Hoping to cope, fighting for water, fighting for food, and now fighting to fuel also, to make food. Scenes are horrible, scenes are horrible, scenes are horrible. 

Recently, Isam told me that he was able to get a visa from Ireland for his family, because one of his sons was born there. But he’s still waiting for approval to leave.

On January 10th, I was able to connect directly with Isam on the phone, to hear more about his life in Rafah. The internet was spotty, so it’s hard to hear sometimes. You’ll find a transcript on our website to follow along if you need it. 

Here’s our conversation:

Ilana: Where am I catching you? Where are you right now?

Isam: I'm just about maybe a thousand meters from the Egyptian border, where I stay. At the rooftop of a three story building in Rafah. I'm using now Vodafone Egypt to speak with you. I have no internet now. I had to go to the roof. 

Ilana: I think the last time we talked directly on the phone, you were in your house in the north, and you were saying that it would be really hard to leave. So I'm wondering how, how did you make it happen that you moved your family?

Isam: Let me explain to you. I have a child, or a boy, a 27 years old boy who was born in Ireland and he has cerebral palsy. So he cannot walk and he cannot talk. And also I have a father who is 93 years old, he walks on a stepper walker, very slowly. Two nights after I wrote that, uh, on Facebook that it's very hard for me to leave, we were faced at the middle of the night, about two o'clock in the morning, with somewhere around 100 to 150 rockets from F16 fighters. And it was a terrible night. Buildings being hit by rockets and people dying with no reasons. They are our neighbors. We know very well that they are civilians. They have nothing to do with what's going on. So it was, it started to be terrifying, which means that they are sending rockets on the top of the buildings, killing people, sending messages that you have to leave the area. So I took the decision to move, before I have to move with a short notice.

Isam: We took our stuff, what we could. We thought it’s going to be a week, at most three weeks, so we even didn't take our winter clothes. We only had our summer clothes on and we moved. I can tell you also I left the solar panels, the solar system working and the fridge and the ceiling fans on. We thought we were just leaving for a few days and then coming back. 

Isam: It was a very hard journey because, uh, after that also we have started to seeing that, uh, the convoys leaving from Gaza being hit by rockets. And we witnessed people dying. You know, there are no words to explain what was going on. You just wouldn't understand what's the story. 

Isam: I've never seen something like this. You want people to leave, then you send a rocket, a one-ton, 100,000 kilograms rocket, F16 fighter on top of a building, five, six story building, killing 40, 50, and then you're just telling the neighbors, you have to leave. There is nothing, nothing in books that can explain what's going on. How can this be done? Nothing. 

Ilana: It sounds like you're seeing this carnage up close. It sounds like you've seen it, like, with your own eyes. 

Isam: We all see the videos coming from all around Gaza Strip. We have seen bombing of hospitals. Everybody saw it with his own eyes. We have seen people killed in the streets here or there. Yesterday, just last night, they bombed a flat here in Rafah, about another kilometer from me to the center of Tel al-Sultan. Somewhere around maybe it’s quarter to two in the morning. People sleeping in their flat, and then you just send a rocket into the window and killing 8, 9, 10, 14, 15, as simple as that. This is how the number was topping, I think now 23,000. 23,000 people dead.

[MUSIC]

Isam: Most of the people from all over Gaza Strip are now in Rafah. And I can see Rafah now, uh, scenes that I've not seen in Cairo. Where Cairo is very populated and very busy, but Rafah now is something else. Something else. Infrastructure cannot take all this. Even speaking on the phone, very difficultly, uh, can, can ring somebody over the cellular because it's busy all the time. It has been designed to take so, so many number of calls and now it's, uh, maybe triple or, or more number of calls and all concentrated in a very, very small area.

Ilana: So you said that the infrastructure can't handle it. What does that look like?

Isam: No, it can't. It looks like sewage in the streets all the time. Sewage in the street and people all the time with diarrhea and fever and problem. Rafah is now, or I think Gaza Strip is now, all of it is not a suitable place for people to live in. It's not suitable. No electricity, of course. No water. We have to fight in order to get the water every eight days. Once every eight days, we have to go to rent a generator, gas generator, and then it's a true story that we have to spend hours in order to raise the water into the two tanks we have and then switch all the water off, and then we use bottles so that this sum of water, this quantity of water can live with us for eight days until it comes again after eight days. Main sources of ration are not available. For example, no chicken, no meat. Only living on cans. People sell it in order to live. 

Isam: You know, we have spoken, Ilana, before about the refugees in 1948. Now I can see what has happened at these days by myself, I can live it now. I'm living it. I even was talking with my father about it. This is his second journey for, as a refugee.

Isam's father, Hilmi, was 18 years old when he was forced to evacuate from his village, Sarafand al-Amar. Sarafand no longer exists - it's Palestinian residents were depopulated during the 1948 war.

In 2019, Unsettled interviewed both Isam and Hilmi about their family’s story. Here’s Hilmi in that episode: 

Hilmi: It was a good and busy village. We had orange orchards. We had land to cultivate oranges and cultivate vegetables. The Israelis occupied it by force on the 20th of May. They bombed the village. 

You can hear more from Hilmi about Sarafand and his life after he was expelled and fled to Gaza in our episode called, “Refugees.” We’ll link it in the show notes. Today, Hilmi is 93 years old. 

Ilana: Is he comparing what's happening now to the Nakba, to 1948? 

Isam: Yes, he was. He, he, he, I was talking with him a few days ago and he said, what has happened in 1948 is, uh, a little, to what is happening now to the people. He’s saying that this time is much, much worse and much bigger and much harder. It's now 93 days and still not ending. And if it ends… I myself, I have, you know, from being a well-off person with two flats and one villa, and then after 93 days – nothing, absolutely nothing. My flat in, uh, Saftawi area was burned to the ground, burned to ground. I've seen pictures to it. Very unfortunate. I have a flat also in the city center. The whole building, 10 story building, was bombed by a rocket. 

Isam: And, uh, my, my villa, which I left when I came here to Rafah, I have no information about it. The building is in, in a military zone that I can, I know nothing about. Probably when things end, I will not find it. If it is a military zone, then fighting is in the area. If there is fighting in the area – we have seen pictures when the Israelis left the place, how they left it.  I have seen it in 2008 in Shejaiyah, I've seen it in 2012, 2014, 2021, and I, I can expect it easily now in 2023, especially, this is the hardest of them all. 

Ilana: Can you describe where you're living now? How did you find this place? And what are the conditions there? 

Isam: It's a three story building. Two of them are finished and one of them is not. The bottom story is about 70 meter place, one room and one bathroom. Or toilet, let's say. It’s not a bathroom, it's a toilet. And we are 12 men. In the middle, there is a 200 square meter flat. That's [where] we have all the women. And in the last one, we have the family of the owner of the place, who is my cousin. 

Ilana: It sounds like it would be really hard to live with that many people. I mean, even just socially.

Isam: So, let, let, let me tell you the hardest of it is when you have 12 people queuing for a toilet. No, it's, it's all, it's, all of it is hard. You have mattresses on the floor. Everybody is sleeping like a prison. We are all in one single room. And the toughest of it is not, it's for, this is for a length of time that's unknown. We have been waiting for things to finish and we go back to our homes. But things have got more complicated, much more complicated. 

Isam: As reports from the media saying that more than 200,000 units have been demolished or destroyed, then you have at least if we have an average of 5 people in a family. So we are talking about a million people left homeless. How these people are going to leave to go back to their places? Where are they going to live? So they are going back to tents again. So what about vertical buildings, which was housing, for example, 30 or 40 families? You are going to put tents, so the whole area of the building will house only eight or nine families. The rest, where they are going to go? So the whole Gaza is all going to be converted to a horizontal place which is very populated and very dense again.

Isam: How many years it's going to take until we go back just before to the 6th of October? How many years? How many years it will take to restore electric supply? How many years it's going to take to infrastructure, sewage and water pipes, telephone lines? Gaza is finished. There is no more Gaza for another 10 years. 

[MUSIC]

Ilana: So, I, I want to ask you about escaping. Um, because that seems like something you're trying to do, right? You said that you got a visa from Ireland. How did that happen? 

Isam: Let me tell you, it's not a matter of escaping. It's a matter of trying to secure the rest of your life. How that happened? I have an Irish boy who was born in Dublin in 1997. So this boy who was born in Ireland is an Irish citizen. So I contacted the Irish government when I saw that people who have nationalities can be evacuated to go to other countries. I spoke to the Department of Foreign Affairs and they offered me a family reunion visa for me, my wife, and two of my children who are under 18. 

Isam: So I applied for the reunion visa and everything was okay until they said that you have to wait until the names are cleared by the Israelis. They didn't say the Israelis, they said “the relevant authorities.” And then I have been waiting for this clearance for 45 days. By the way, the Irish child was cleared, and the youngest one, who was 13, was cleared. But me, my wife, and the child who was 17 and a half was not cleared. So we have not been able to leave until now. But this is not because of me. Everybody else is the same. The process seems to be very slow. Honestly, I don't know why they do this. 

Isam: My cousin is also the same. He has a girl with an American citizenship. He applied because after I applied, I told him you can apply. He applied to the Americans, his daughter was cleared, his wife was cleared, he wasn't cleared, and his boy wasn't cleared, so he cannot leave. 

Isam: I spoke to the Irish government, I sent them a letter, explaining that at least with my case as a, I have a disabled boy who, who shouldn't suffer. If I am suffering now, okay, but he shouldn't suffer. But I see it very difficult for anybody to intervene with this. I think that the Israelis are tightening things and making it difficult. I don't know why, but this is what they are doing. 

Isam: As I explained to you before, probably Gaza, to return back to its normal life as it was 6th October, it will take years. So at least I can secure the children in schools. I have two children in school, one in the 8th class and one in the 12th grade. So the boy was supposed to finish his 12th and go to university next year. So we lost the whole scholastic year. Now he's not studying. And I also have one who has finished first year and he's in second year in the university. Where, after this whole devastation, where am I going to find a place where my child can finish his university, or my other children can continue school and finish their schools and go to university? Choices that a person has to make. This is it, Ilana.

Ilana: What does it feel like for you to think about leaving Gaza? 

Isam: Well, uh, it's terrible. You know? You know, I'm not just a normal person in Gaza. You know, Ilana, I am well known public figure. So it's not easy with this, uh, social life that I have in Gaza, being a managing director and regional manager of a medical equipment, the biggest medical equipment company, and also the treasurer of the civic campaign to save cancer children and cancer patients, and also as a nominee for legislative council – as a political figure, let's say – and as a writer, Gaza is my life. Gaza is me. So just thinking to leave Gaza is not an easy task or an easy choice. 

Isam: But let me ask you a question. I have two flats and one villa, one house. The flats I already lost. Now, the house I will know its fate at the end of the war. Let's suppose the house is there and I can go and live in the house. But if the house is not there, the simple question: where am I going to live? In a tent? If you are given this choice, will you take it? 

Isam: It's not an easy thing to say, look, okay, I will go and stay in a tent until I rebuild my house, when the, uh – when what? When what? I spent my, my whole life to save $210,000 in order to buy the land and build the house. Am I going to do that again? From what, from two or three years in, in work? That's not possible. To be quite honest with you, Ilana, I put my savings in the flats and the real estate. And after 27 years of working in a senior job, I'm left with nothing now. After 93 days from the war, I am left with absolutely nothing at all. Nothing. I've lost everything. That's not only me. Everybody has lost everything. Everything. 

Isam: I'm not, I'm not being given a choice to stay or to leave. I'm just leaving for a short period of time, two, three, four years, and then going back to Gaza. Or at least secure for my children in there and come back to my work. Because my work after the war will be, we will have a lot of work, as we will go in a phase of rebuilding and re-equipping the hospitals, so. There will be lots of work. 

Ilana: I see. So you're saying that you would try and come back as soon as possible. Do I have that right?

Isam: Yeah, yeah sure. I will come back to my job. I am a regional manager of a big company. I will come back to my work if my work stays. But if the situation in Gaza went beyond being able to, to restore our works, then I will rethink it again. The situation will tell me what's the story. 

Ilana: This is a hard question, and I'm sorry to have to ask it, but: you were talking about your dad, Hilmi, who was saying that this is worse than the Nakba, and what we know about the Nakba in 1948 is that people who escaped or who left, who were forced to leave their homes, and went to places like Gaza, were not allowed back. You know, you're talking about your plans to come back, and I'm wondering if you think about… 

Isam: Let, let me explain to you. Well, at the beginning, in the first month, in the first month, I was actually very frightened that we will be kicked to Egypt. But now, no. I'm really quite satisfied that they have not been able to do that. And we will go back to our homes. 

  [MUSIC]

Ilana: Do you know anyone who has been approved to leave? Who's gotten a visa or some kind of admission to another country for refuge? 

Isam: Uh, not for refuge. Well, you can call it whatever you want, but this is the situation. Whoever has a first degree relative from any country, Western countries, can recall his first degree relatives. And every day, in the middle of the night, around one o'clock at night, they issue a list of people who are allowed to leave in the same day. They call it a very short notice. Look, I have no internet. I have to wake up every night, every night, every night since the time I made my application, and go to the rooftop and turn on the Vodafone Egypt, get the internet, check the list, and then go back to sleep. Every day I do this. From, let's say from the 20th or the 21st of December until now, only three days lists have been issued with the people to leave who has, they call it, foreign passports.

Isam: But now yesterday, there was a list today. There was a list. So I'm hoping that after the holidays, things are going to be quicker than before. And let's hope that the names appear and I can leave. 

Ilana: Do you know what happens if they, if you were to check that list and you were on it? Do you know what would happen next? 

Isam: Yes. I went today to the border trying to leave because I have two names already approved, but they refused. Today. Today, Wednesday, I went, but they refused. They said everybody has to be on the list. 

Isam: So if the names appeared on the list, our bags are packed. So I will just go to the border and leave. I will go to Egypt, register my son in the university, and leave with the others to Ireland. Yes, I know very well what I'm going to do.

Ilana: So you just get on a plane and you go to Ireland, and then – do you have some money to find a flat in Ireland, like, how do you make your new life in Ireland, do you know? Or will the situation tell you, like you said? 

Isam: Yes. I, I don't know now, I have no answer to that, but I have friends in Ireland who I know since a long time. I know friends from the time I was there also. As I understood that, my boy who has cerebral palsy will be assisted by the government. We will, we will manage. We will manage. We will manage.

At the time of episode release, Isam is still waiting to hear about his family’s approval to leave. His father, Hilmi, will not be moving. 

On Monday, January 22nd, the Associated Press reported that thousands more Palestinians were fleeing to Rafah from another southern city, Khan Younis, as Israel intensifies its ground operations there. 

Meanwhile, the UN says that 400,000 people in Gaza are starving.

In this moment of fear, grief, and uncertainty, we want to offer you the opportunity to tell your story. Whether you want to talk about a loved one you’ve lost, your fears about what will happen next, or your anger at those in power – call us and leave a voicemail at 347-878-1359 and we’ll include some of your messages as we report on the impact of these events. Again, that’s 347-878-1359. 

Unsettled is produced by Max Freedman and Emily Bell, and me, Ilana Levinson, with support from Asaf Calderon. Music in this episode is from Blue Dot Sessions. For more from Unsettled, follow us on Instagram at unsettled underscore pod, and make sure you subscribe, so you don’t miss the next episode. 

Talking to Our Families

Just before Thanksgiving, we asked listeners to call in and tell us about how they’re navigating conversations with their families, friends, and communities in this moment—as Israel responds to the October 7th attacks with unprecedented destruction in Gaza. What has worked in getting through to loved ones, and what hasn’t? How are people are managing these relationships, or coping with their feelings about them?

On this episode—a collaboration between Unsettled and Jewish Currents magazine's On the Nose podcast—Unsettled producer Ilana Levinson joins Jewish Currents editor-in-chief Arielle Angel and associate editor Mari Cohen to listen to clips from callers describing the ruptures in their families, their attempts to repair relationships while sticking to their values, and their strategies for getting through to stubborn loved ones. They explore questions of when it is our obligation to keep arguing, and when it’s better to take a break—or give up completely. And they zoom out to think about what this moment says about the future of Jewish American institutional life.

This episode was produced by Ilana Levinson and Max Freedman. Music by Nathan Salsburg.

Milena Ansari: "Detention without trial or charge"

As of Thursday, November 30th, a temporary ceasefire is in place between Israel and Hamas. The truce allows for an exchange of hostages who have been held in Gaza by Hamas since October 7th for Palestinian prisoners detained by Israel, and for desperately needed humanitarian aid to enter the Gaza Strip. At this point, 69 hostages have been released by Hamas and 150 Palestinian detainees have been released by Israel.

Palestinian prisoners being released have been called terrorists, with an Israeli imposed ban on Palestinian families publicly celebrating the return of their loved ones who are being freed in the deal. Israeli National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir said, “expressions of joy are equivalent to backing terrorism.” But who are the Palestinian detainees held in Israeli prisons being released in this deal, and on what grounds are they being detained? 119 of the freed Palestinian prisoners are children. And more than half of them have never been charged with a crime.

This episode of Unsettled, originally published in February of 2022, covers Israel’s system of military courts and administrative detention of Palestinians. Milena Ansari, international advocacy officer at Addameer Prisoner Support and Human Rights Association, talks about the case Hisham Abu Hawash, a Palestinian administrative detainee who went on hunger strike for 141 days, while he was held in prison by Israel without charges or a trial.

(Photo: Addameer)