http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/front/la-000103441dec31.story?coll=la%2Dheadlines%2Dfrontpage
THE WORLD
Israeli Activists Urge Army to Probe Civilian Slayings
By TRACY WILKINSON
TIMES STAFF WRITER
December 31 2001
JERUSALEM -- A 14-year-old boy throws a stone at a fortified army post in the
Gaza Strip, and Israeli soldiers shoot him dead.
A cabdriver drops off a grocery sack left in his taxi, and troops riddle his
body with bullets.
Three peasant women are killed by tiny darts that pierce their chests and
stomachs when Israeli tanks shell their refugee camp. Fifteen months ago, the
worst Israeli-Palestinian bloodshed in decades erupted, first at a disputed holy
site in Jerusalem and then across the West Bank, Gaza Strip and in parts of
Israel. From the start, Israeli, Palestinian and international human rights
organizations have charged that the Israeli army has often used disproportionate
force in putting down demonstrations and retaliating for Palestinian attacks.
More than 1,000 people have been killed, roughly three-quarters of them
Palestinian.
While the army challenges the criticism, one thing is not in dispute: In case
after case, the army has killed Palestinian civilians but has only rarely
investigated the deaths or punished the soldiers and officers responsible.
Most killings are given cursory, on-site review and, if any fault is found,
chalked up to justifiable error or the fog of war. Fuller inquiry is seldom
pursued.
Top army commanders defend this approach and insist that theirs is a "moral
army," able to examine its mistakes and learn from them.
"We don't want to kill [civilians]. First of all, it is not moral. Second thing,
we know it is against our interests," Maj. Gen. Dan Harel, the army's head of
operations, said in an interview. But, he added: "This is not a police
situation. It's almost a war."
Many Israelis, terrified by suicide bombers and fed up with months of violence,
simply want the conflict to end and say they don't care what the army and
government do to achieve that aim. A growing faction of hard-liners wants the
army to act even more forcefully. To them, the idea of examining possible abuse
is absurd.
Lately, however, a small number of influential Israelis--including the deans of
the country's four leading law schools--have joined the chorus of criticism,
worrying about the corrosive effect that ignoring abuse can have on the morale
and discipline of the Middle East's most powerful military and on society as a
whole.
By failing to conduct more than cursory investigations, these Israelis and other
activists charge, the army is engendering a culture of impunity that stands in
marked contrast not only to its own view of itself but also to its behavior
during the intifada of the late 1980s and early 1990s.
"Something very sick has entered this system," said Ran Cohen, a legislator with
the leftist Meretz Party and a former paratroop colonel who fought in the 1967
Middle East War and in Lebanon. "The Israeli [army] is indeed making a
tremendous military effort, and there's no doubt that it increases the burden
and the tension. But this should not justify lies and the loss of our moral
values."
In the intifada that raged from 1987 to 1993 and ended with landmark
Israeli-Palestinian peace accords, the standard practice was for the army to
open a military police investigation each and every time a Palestinian was
killed as a result of the actions of Israeli security forces.
The practice upheld a certain level of accountability, former army officers say,
even if, in the opinion of human rights advocates, the investigations were
flawed. More than 100 investigations a year were opened, the army says.
Now the nature of the conflict is very different. The first intifada was a
popular uprising dominated by stone-throwing, and army troops routinely
intermingled with Palestinian villagers because Israel then occupied all of the
West Bank and Gaza Strip. There was less lethal violence and greater visibility
of Israeli actions.
The current conflict has included popular protest--but also armed
confrontations. The Israeli military leadership considers investigations to be a
secondary concern when its men and women are fighting a veritable war.
"It's a whole different world," said Harel, the army operations commander.
"In the [1987-93] intifada, people were throwing stones at us. It's not nice,
sometimes very dangerous. But it's like police work. . . . Now . . . is not
police work. Mortar bombs. Shooting. Suicide bombers. Side charges. Car bombs.
This is not [police work]."
Few cases have incensed human rights watchdogs like that of Khalil Mughrabi.
The 11-year-old Gazan boy was shot in the head by Israeli soldiers, the army
acknowledges, as he took a break after a soccer match in July. He died, and two
of his friends, ages 10 and 12, were wounded.
Internal army documents confirm that the troops--who earlier had come under
Palestinian gunfire--fired "warning shots" in the direction of the children,
using a high-caliber, tank-mounted machine gun, despite regulations prohibiting
the shooting of heavy weaponry at children.
The case snowballed when the army accidentally sent the internal documents to
the Israeli human rights organization B'Tselem. The documents show that Chief
Military Prosecutor Col. Einat Ron concluded that the soldiers had broken the
rules and that the shooting was unjustified. But for public consumption, Ron
overruled her own findings and said she saw no "just cause" to open a criminal
investigation.
To B'Tselem activists and other critics, this was the smoking gun that showed
the army's reluctance to investigate itself.
A review by The Times of several civilian deaths reveals a pattern of
questionable Israeli military action and minimal inquiry into what went wrong,
as well as little if any disciplinary action. The Israeli army has defined the
current conflict in a way that loosens the rules of engagement and allows
soldiers wide discretion in opening fire, often with tragic consequences:
* No longer able to work in Israel because of a ban on Palestinian workers,
Radwan Shtyyeh drove a cab on West Bank roads near Nablus to earn a little
money--20 or 30 shekels a day, not even $10.
On the day he was killed, his four children had asked him for new shoes. So he
made another taxi run, carrying four passengers up a dirt road on the edge of
his village, Salem, and depositing them so they could walk the rest of the way
around a dirt-and-concrete barricade erected by the Israeli army.
But one of the passengers left a bag of vegetables in the cab. Shtyyeh, an
amiable man described as wholly uninterested in politics, got out of the car,
carried the bag up to the barricade and placed it in the road so the woman could
retrieve it. Israeli soldiers halfway up a nearby hill, at least 50 yards away,
opened fire. Bullets hit his upper body in at least eight places, according to
his family, witnesses and a Palestinian coroner.
Two of his young sons, herding sheep in a nearby pasture, watched in horror as
their father was killed, as did several other Salem residents.
"I went down to help, but the soldiers wouldn't let us get any closer," recalled
Jihad Shtyyeh, a distant cousin and the first on the scene that afternoon of
July 2. "He was still alive, saying, 'Help me, help me.' But the soldiers yelled
at us to go away."
Radwan Shtyyeh, who was 37 and whose photograph shows a man with a small
mustache and slightly goofy smile, left behind a 30-year-old widow, Amira, who
is raising their children.
"Some of the people who worked with him in Israel told me that even the Israelis
were upset when they heard he was killed," Amira said in her simple living room,
where her husband's last pack of Imperial cigarettes sits in a glass display
case. "He was a person who never made any trouble."
An army spokesman said the shooting was "tragic" but that the soldiers were on
the lookout for roadside bombs and probably suspected that Shtyyeh was planting
one. Requests to the army from B'Tselem for an official inquiry into the case
have gone unanswered.
* Deep in the Gaza Strip, near the Palestinian town of Khan Yunis, an Israeli
army outpost rises up from the scruffy sand dunes. It is a heavily fortified
bunker. It is not likely that Imad Zareb and the other youths who were pelting
it with stones Sept. 15 posed much of a threat.
That day, Imad, 14, and the others had attended the funeral of two Palestinians
killed by Israeli fire. Breaking off from the burial procession as it entered
the Khan Yunis cemetery, they headed for the nearest Israeli military structure,
erected to protect Jewish settlers in Gaza, who are often attacked.
Witnesses said Imad was about 10 yards east of the outpost when Israeli soldiers
opened fire with M-16 assault rifles. He died about four hours after he was shot
and was buried the next day in the Khan Yunis cemetery.
No formal inquiry has been launched into this shooting. An army spokesman said
the army was aware of "disturbances" that day but no Palestinian casualties.
* Rania Kharoufeh was terrified when Israeli forces invaded Bethlehem on Oct.
19. But the 24-year-old mother of two needed milk for her children. In a
friend's car, she made a dash for the nearest corner market the next day.
The car came under fire, and Kharoufeh jumped out and took cover in a store.
Within minutes, she was dead, killed by Israeli fire, according to her family
and two witnesses.
Four days later, Brig. Gen. Gershon Yitzhak, the Israeli commander of troops in
the West Bank, announced with confidence that Kharoufeh had been felled by
Palestinian fire. He based his conclusion on a field investigation by men under
his command, who questioned the soldiers present.
But a Times inspection of the site where Kharoufeh was killed showed big holes,
clearly made by large-caliber ammunition, in the door facing Israeli positions.
The Israelis' likely target, a unit of Palestinian police with small-caliber
arms, would have been positioned down the street, on the other side.
There is no allegation that the Israeli forces targeted the young woman. But the
army came under criticism from human rights organizations for using tanks and
heavy weapons in a largely residential area. Palestinian gunmen who attempted to
fight off the Israelis were also criticized.
Bethlehem's Roman Catholic-run maternity hospital, hit several times by Israeli
fire during the same incursion, is suing Israel for damages.
* The family of Mousa George abu Eid, a Palestinian Christian, also plans to sue
Israel. The 19-year-old high school graduate was one of several Palestinians
shot in their homes in Bethlehem and the adjacent town of Beit Jala during the
October incursion. Abu Eid, who friends and family said was a simple youth
uninterested in politics, had taken refuge with his family on the lower floor of
their two-story home as tanks rumbled into their neighborhood at 4 a.m. Oct. 19.
When the shooting subsided that night, Abu Eid and his father ventured upstairs
to fetch sheets and blankets. In those moments, an Israeli sniper who had taken
up a position next door shot and killed Abu Eid, family and witnesses said. The
window shows a single, clean bullet hole. Abu Eid was hit in the neck.
These cases are not obscure. Most were reported at the time in Israeli,
Palestinian and foreign news accounts and have been denounced by human rights or
political activists. Several have been taken up by B'Tselem, which has collected
testimony and demanded investigations, to no avail.
An estimated 800 Palestinians have been killed and more than 10,000 wounded in
the last 15 months. Though many of those were combatants, at least 194 of the
Palestinian dead were children, according to UNICEF. Among Israelis, whose
population is nearly twice that of the Palestinians, about 250 people have been
killed and 2,300 wounded.
Israel's army has officially classified the violence as an "armed conflict short
of war," Col. Daniel Reisner, head of the military's international law division,
said in an interview. The size and scale of clashes and casualties make the
conflict a war, he said, but the status of the parties--the Palestinians
technically do not have an army--means the confrontation falls short of formal
war.
This "middle ground" definition has loosened the open-fire regulations, allowing
a soldier to kill in many instances even when his life is not in danger, and
created broad discretion over whether and how shootings should be investigated,
Reisner and Deputy Chief Military Prosecutor Lt. Col. Liron Libman said.
The most common form of inquiry, they said, is a debriefing in the field after
any incident in which a Palestinian is killed. The unit commander hears from his
soldiers about what happened and whether anything went wrong. A commander can
mete out discipline on the spot or send a soldier to a court-martial.
Reisner said there probably have been "dozens" of cases of both commander-level
discipline and courts-martial, but he could not provide statistics because all
such cases are grouped together and can include anything from a dress-code
violation to a shooting.
In the most serious incidents, a criminal investigation by the military police
is opened. This is considered the highest level of scrutiny and can lead to a
trial of the soldiers or officers involved.
A total of 59 military police investigations have been opened since the start of
the current conflict, of which 15 involve shooting incidents. From those
investigations, three criminal indictments of Israeli soldiers have been handed
down, according to figures released by the office of the military advocate
general. Three cases have been closed without disciplinary action. No one has
been sentenced.
One of the indictments involves two sergeants and a soldier who are currently on
trial, accused of mistreating Palestinians at a checkpoint near the West Bank
city of Hebron. Among other things, they allegedly stopped a Palestinian taxi in
July and at gunpoint forced the driver to beat and slap the passengers.
A second case involves a captain in the reserves who in October allegedly
ordered a soldier to fire a warning shot at a Palestinian man who posed no
danger; the man was critically wounded in the head. The third indictment
involves the case of a Palestinian woman killed by Israeli fire as she rode in a
car.
Reisner said the vast majority of wrongful shootings are the result of
negligence, not malice.
"You are allowed to make mistakes," he said.
But Yael Stein, the head researcher at B'Tselem, said the army has repeatedly
violated humanitarian laws in its treatment of Palestinians. A failure to
investigate, she said, encourages continued abuse. The opening of 15 probes, in
the context of the thousands of people who have been killed and wounded, "is
nothing," she said.
"If there are no investigations, then by definition, no one is watching," she
said. "The issue of accountability is not rooted in this society."
Army officials point out a series of technical difficulties that impede
investigations. In contrast to the earlier intifada, Israeli authorities rarely
if ever have access to bodies--under Muslim tradition, bodies are buried
quickly, without autopsy--and often do not have access to the site where a
person was killed because it is under Palestinian control.
And the Israelis say the Palestinian authorities are wholly uncooperative when
it comes to any sort of probe.
"Maybe they have something to hide. Maybe it's the general attitude against any
cooperation with Israel. Maybe they don't have trust in our system--even when
they'd have a vested interest in our taking a look," said Libman, the deputy
chief military prosecutor.
Retired Maj. Gen. Amram Mitzna, who commanded troops during the first intifada,
agreed that the nature of the conflict vastly complicates investigations of
abuse. Still, he said, making an effort is vital.
"It is very important for the morale of the unit that is concerned, important
for the discipline of the army as a military institution, and important that the
army know what the soldiers are doing and whether they are acting according to
the orders that they get," Mitzna, who is now the mayor of the port city of
Haifa, said in an interview.
The Israeli army has also come under pressure to investigate the shootings of 40
journalists, most of whom were injured while working in the West Bank and Gaza
Strip for foreign media in the early weeks of the current conflict. In the vast
majority of the cases, according to a study by Reporters Without Borders, the
journalists appeared to have been hit by Israeli fire.
The army issued a report this month, saying it found no army culpability except
in one case: the shooting of an unarmed female American photographer in
Bethlehem last year. In that incident, in which an American ambassador
personally pressed the Israeli prime minister for action, the commanding officer
received a reprimand.
"The absence of concrete results in practically all of the cases does not
suggest that the investigations were thorough and comprehensive," the Foreign
Press Assn. in Israel said in a statement. "The message this delivers to
soldiers is that preventing the shooting of journalists and punishing those who
shoot them are not of utmost importance."
Ronen Shnayderman, another researcher with B'Tselem, argues that cases are
investigated only when there is ample publicity. Shnayderman has sent letter
after letter to the army requesting investigations of some of the most egregious
cases. He has never received a positive reply, he said.
One case in which publicity apparently prompted the army to investigate at the
highest possible level involved three Bedouin women who were killed when Israeli
forces shelled the Gaza refugee camp where they lived.
Thousands of razor-sharp steel darts, known as flechettes, that were packed in a
120-millimeter shell were fired at the camp by Israeli tanks after Palestinians
shot at the Israelis. In addition to the three women who died in the June 10
incident--Nassereh Malalha, 61, Salmiya Malalha, 37, and Hikmat Malalha,
17--several other women and children were injured.
An army investigation was ordered, but it came to nothing until a special
military prosecutor was appointed after reports in the local press and
complaints from Israeli politicians. The military attorney general, Brig. Gen.
Menachem Finkelstein, is now handling the case--one of only two given such
high-level review. The other case concerns a Palestinian man who was shot this
year in front of his home during an Israeli raid on his West Bank village.
Cohen, the Israeli legislator, has frequently accused the army of trying to
shirk its responsibility for civilian Palestinian casualties. The topic came up
again at a recent meeting of the defense committee of Israel's parliament after
the Nov. 22 death of five Palestinian schoolboys. They were blown up by an
explosive device the army had planted in an area that was used by Palestinian
gunmen to shoot at nearby Jewish settlements but was also a common path to the
boys' school.
In a heated exchange with Cohen, the army chief of staff, Lt. Gen. Shaul Mofaz,
denied that the army was insensitive to civilian casualties.
"If that were true," Mofaz told the committee, "there would have been many more
people hurt in the 10,000 incidents in which the army has been involved in the
last 14 months."
Cohen, in an interview, said he is not interested in pointing fingers of blame
or seeing soldiers in the brig. His concern is that the army, one of Israel's
most vaunted institutions, loses what he and many Israelis see as its moral
authority if impunity reigns.
"My cause is to try to save the values of ourselves and of our army," he said.
"If we lose our values, we lose our power. If we lose our justice, we lose our
case."