Two Palestinian prisoners: One went home, the other was exiled by Israel

Ramallah, occupied West Bank – The morning dawned full of anticipation as thousands of Palestinian families prepared to welcome their imprisoned relatives, who were scheduled to be released as part of a prisoner exchange deal with Israel.

Some had spent decades in prison, some were serving consecutive life sentences, and most had been rounded up wholesale by Israel in Gaza during its two-year war on the besieged enclave.

The Ramallah Cultural Centre was where the families of political prisoners being released to the West Bank gathered on Monday, and tears, embraces, and anticipation were everywhere.

But the tears flowing down one woman’s face seemed different as she leaned against her brother, weeping bitterly.

They were shocked and saddened by the news they had just gotten about their brother, prisoner Muhammad Ahmad Imran from Hebron, who was detained in December 2022 and handed 13 life sentences. And their joy at hearing he would be released had just been dashed.

‘All words fail’

Ibtisam and her brother Raed Imran had come to Ramallah two days ago, after they got a call from Muhammad from the Israeli prison where he was held, telling them that he would be among the prisoners to be released to the West Bank.

But when they arrived at the cultural centre on Monday morning, they were told that Muhammad was on the list, yes, but that he was among the more than 100 prisoners whom Israel had decided to exile from Palestine.

According to the Palestinian Prisoners’ Media Office, Israel will be exiling 154 out of 250 Palestinian political prisoners it is releasing.

These men will likely face severe constraints on their movements and activities in the countries they will be taken to, and travel will be difficult given that they only have Palestinian citizenship.

Tamer Qarmout, associate professor in public policy at the Doha Institute for Graduate Studies, told media these exile orders amount to forced displacement of these individuals.

In addition, because Israel makes it nearly impossible for some Palestinians to travel outside Palestine, these prisoners’ families may never see them again.

Raed was still in disbelief, going over the past few days and all the things that had happened that made him sure his brother was coming home.

“I got a call from an Israeli officer … He told us not to show joy or receive well-wishers,” he said, describing a common experience for Palestinian families: threats by Israeli security forces – of violence, arrests, and worse if they showed any joy that their loved one was coming home.

“The Israeli army raided our home that night, asking where Muhammad would stay after his release. They warned against any celebrations, support for the resistance, or even messages of solidarity with Gaza. We told them we only wanted my brother’s freedom, and that we were prepared to shut our doors to any well-wishers.”

Ibtisam looked exhausted and tearful.

“I was so happy when I heard Muhammad would be released. We left Hebron two days ago … I wanted to be the first to receive him. But all that exhaustion from moving around and finding a place to stay here, it was all worth it; I was so sure all the fatigue would disappear at the moment of meeting,” she said with a sad smile.

“The occupation’s threats spoiled our joy and made us turbulent,” she added. “The manipulation of names and information was intentional, and this is what burned our nerves. [But] I will remain here until the last prisoner is released. I can’t describe what is in my heart … all words fail.”

Joy for the al-Zeir family

Also at the gate of the Ramallah Cultural Centre stood Bassam al-Zeir, a 60-year-old man from Dura, south of Hebron, his face tired but excited.

He was anticipating a reunion he had awaited for 23 years, with his brother Hani, a 50-year-old father of seven, and with their cousin Arafat al-Zeir.

Hani was arrested on June 28, 2002, and sentenced to 25 years in prison, of which he served 23 years. Arafat was arrested at the same time and sentenced to 35 years.

Bassam said it had been “a joyful thunderbolt” to learn that the two men were going to be released.

“My cousin Arafat’s name was on the first list then, at exactly 2am, my brother Hani’s name was released. We couldn’t believe it and started preparing to go to Ramallah right then.”

Bassam hasn’t seen his brother in more than two decades, as the family was denied any visits, likely because Bassam himself had been previously detained.

“I was arrested more than once, and they prevented me from seeing him, even during family visits, as if they wanted the separation between us to remain eternal.”

But, he added: “Freedom is coming … even if it’s delayed by 23 years.”

Despite his joy, Bassam is frustrated and saddened.

On the one hand, he said, he knew that the release of prisoners comes at an indescribable cost that the people of Gaza had to bear for two years.

And on the other hand, the restrictions the Israelis impose on prisoners’ families prevent them from expressing their joy at having their loved ones home again.

“We waited a quarter of a century [for this release] … but they even prevented joy from reaching us,” he says, his eyes welling with tears.

‘Cannot be described’

Then the bus arrived and prisoners began coming out, and Bassam surged forward with members of other families, eager to catch a glimpse of his brother and cousin.

But the crush of people at the doors of the bus was too much, and Bassam faltered, falling back a bit and shouting out “Hani! Hani!” in hopes that his brother would hear him.

Eventually, the brothers were reunited and tears flowed as they embraced and tried to pack a lot of feelings into those moments.

Asked about what was going through his head, Hani shook his head and said, “This feeling cannot be described in words…”

Arafat was not part of this tender moment. His health had deteriorated so much in Israeli prison that he had to be helped off the bus and whisked away immediately to be checked by doctors.

Relief at being out and seeing his brother after so long was apparent on Hani’s face, as was the weariness of his time in prison.

He and Arafat had been held in Ramon Prison until they were told shortly before their release that they were being moved to Ofer, another facility that Palestinians know is usually a last holding area for prisoners about to be released.

They were threatened, Hani said, but the joy of being moved to Ofer Prison was stronger.

“I felt my breath return, as if life had returned.

“The hardest thing about captivity isn’t the walls or the chains, but the passage of time away from our families. I used to count the years by my children growing up in photographs.”