On Monday, Aug. 4, a few dozen Torontonians held a vigil for well-known Palestinian land defender Awdah Hathaleen.
Hathaleen was shot and killed by an Israeli settler on July 28 in Hathaleen’s community of Umm Al-Khair, in the South Hebron Hills region of the West Bank.
The West Bank has been under attack since October 2023, with at least 1,000 Palestinians killed in the region by either Israeli settlers or Israeli forces, sometimes attacking in collaboration.
Hathaleen is internationally known as he was a consultant helping film the Oscar-winning documentary No Other Land.
Israeli settler Yinon Levi was arrested, charged with manslaughter and released on house arrest. Levi claims he acted in self defence after rocks were thrown at him.
However, the most thorough report on the killing shows this is a flimsy explanation. Basel Adra, Yuval Abraham (co-directors of No Other Land) and Oren Ziv analyzed 20 videos of the events and describe them in 972+ Magazine and Local Call as follows:
Metadata from the video footage shows that the shooting occurred at 5:29 p.m. Four minutes earlier, Levi entered privately-owned Palestinian land in Umm Al-Khair, accompanied by an excavator driver. The driver plowed through olive trees, destroyed the village’s fence and main water pipe, and attempted to run over Hathaleen’s cousin, Ahmad, striking him in the head with the excavator’s arm and knocking him unconscious. Only then did several other residents begin throwing stones at the excavator.
“The excavator didn’t drive on the paved road, it entered our family’s private land, which we had fenced off and planted with olive trees,” Alaa, Hathaleen’s cousin, told +972 and Local Call. “We tried peacefully to tell them to stop, but they didn’t listen to us. Some residents tried to stand in front of the excavator to block it, but it ran over the fence and used the [arm] to hit Ahmad. People [threw stones] to defend themselves.”
According to the footage, the stones thrown by Palestinian residents did not hit Levi, who was standing several meters away from the excavator. But shortly afterward, Levi ran toward the residents, struck a Palestinian who was filming him in the head with the butt of his pistol, and fired two shots in the direction of the village’s homes.
Six eyewitnesses confirmed to +972 and Local Call that Levi was the shooter; apart from him and the excavator driver, who did not fire a gun, there were no other settlers present.
An analysis of the videos — which capture the moment of the shooting from three different angles — cross-referenced with a visit to the scene earlier today indicates that Levi’s first shot struck Hathaleen, who was standing 35 meters away on the basketball court inside the village’s community center, as he attempted to document what was happening. His second shot was aimed at a large group of people, including at least four small children, but did not hit anyone.”
An ambulance eventually arrived and took Hathaleen to the hospital in the Israeli city of Be’er Sheva, where he was pronounced dead on arrival.
Israel did not return his body to his community of Umm Al-Khair for over a week. His family and friends were left in a suspended state of grief, unable to mourn according to their tradition.
A mourning tent was set up initially by community members. But, as reported by 972+ and Local Call, “[Israeli] soldiers stormed the tent, expelled mourners, activists, and journalists, and arrested two of the activists. Meanwhile, 20 Palestinian villagers have been arrested over the past week — including Hathaleen’s brother Aziz, who was detained immediately after the shooting when Yinon Levi pointed him out to soldiers — and three still remain in detention.”
Meanwhile, Levi was freed from house arrest by an Israeli judge on Friday, and has since been seen back in Umm Al-Khair. His charges remain.
Canada previously sanctioned Levi and others the government listed as “perpetrators of extremist settler violence against civilians in [the] West Bank.” According to the 2024 announcement, “These measures will impose a prohibition on dealings related to the listed individuals and render them inadmissible to Canada under the Immigration and Refugee Protection Act.”
Canada, however, has also been allowing the export of weapons to Israel, including hundreds of thousands of units labeled by Israeli import authorities as “bullets.” This has prompted some to ask: “Was the bullet that killed Awdah one of ours?”
Over 60 women in Umm Al-Khair initiated a hunger strike on Thursday, July 31, to demand justice. Two of the women have already been taken to receive medical treatment as a result of the hunger strike but said they would not stop until their demands are met.
The women, and their allies around the world including in Toronto, have been calling on Israel to immediately and unconditionally return Hathaleen’s body, release all residents arrested in connection with the incident, and prosecute Levi for murder. (His charge is currently manslaughter.)
An hour before publication of this article, on Aug. 7, Israel gave Hathaleen’s body back to his community.
They will now be able to grieve according to custom.
Anna Lippman was one of the organizers of the Toronto vigil. She has gone on several solidarity trips to the Hebron Hills and wrote of Hathaleen just after his death:
Awdah was 31 years old. Younger than me and likely younger than some of you reading this post. He spent his entire life under occupation and the things he had seen made him seem much older and wiser than his few decades of life. I think of all he had done in his short life: created bridges with Israeli and international activists, supported neighbouring villages, played high stakes football (soccer), and created a beautiful home with his wonderful wife and three small children.
I think about how I used to joke with her about Awdah not enjoying doing housework. I think about how his children used to stand in front of his car every time he tried to leave the village, refusing to budge until they could get one more hug. I think of all the times he pulled me aside to whisper instructions to me as settlers or soldiers invaded the village. I can’t believe these moments will never happen again. I can’t believe that I need to refer to Awdah in the past tense.
I spent a great deal of time with Awdah during my visits to Masafer Yatta, but I spent even more time with his children. His oldest son, named homeland in Arabic, is only four years old. The middle child is two and the youngest is just 8 months. I can’t believe they will never be held by their father again.