Saher Ghazawi
I am not, so to speak, confused about where to begin or where to end, nor about what is important and what is more important. All the issues here are so deeply intertwined that separating them becomes nearly impossible, as they all converge into a single trajectory. It is enough to place your hand on one part of this body for the rest to tremble—this is a body weighed down by scars and wounds; no injury heals before another is opened, and no file is closed without branching into something deeper and more painful.
What the Israeli Knesset approved on the evening of Monday, March 30, 2026—a law permitting the execution of Palestinian prisoners—was not surprising at all. Rather, it comes within an accumulated trajectory of policies and legislation aimed at intensifying tools of control and repression, transforming them from field practices into binding legal frameworks. In its current form, the law opens the door to issuing death sentences in cases classified as “nationalist operations,” while narrowing the judiciary’s ability to commute or reduce sentences—a judiciary that experience has shown is not neutral, but rather functions within a broader system that produces discrimination. This reflects a clear tendency toward using the death penalty as a tool of political deterrence, not merely as a criminal measure.
While this law may appear today as an exceptional step, past experience calls for caution against its normalization over time. The atmosphere surrounding its passage recalls the 2018 “Nation-State Law,” which enshrined Jewish national supremacy and granted the right to self-determination exclusively to Jews. That law initially provoked widespread opposition before gradually becoming part of the legal and political reality. Thus, the danger lies not only in the law itself, but in the process of normalizing it and incorporating it into the “ordinary” tools used to manage Palestinians.
In the same context, the discourse accompanying these policies reflects an additional level of escalation, where extreme ideas are put forward—such as establishing prisons surrounded by “crocodile moats.” This reveals a political climate that treats the Palestinian prisoner as a tool of deterrence and humiliation, rather than as a human being with rights. Even if such proposals are not implemented, their mere circulation indicates how easily extremist ideas can transition into official policy.
None of this can be separated from the broader historical context. Since the Nakba in 1948, Palestinians inside Israel were subjected to a military rule system until 1966, where arrests and emergency regulations were used to control and regulate society. Following the 1967 occupation, these policies expanded to include Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, making arrests a permanent pillar of Israel’s system of control.
Since then, hundreds of thousands of Palestinians have passed through Israeli prisons, with human rights organizations estimating the cumulative number at around one million detainees. Today, the number of prisoners ranges between 9,000 and 10,000, including children, women, and administrative detainees held without trial. This system has not been limited to detention alone but has been accompanied by ongoing violations, including torture, starvation, medical neglect, isolation, and physical abuse. As a result, approximately 323 prisoners have died since 1967 up to early 2026. Since October 2023, there has been an unprecedented escalation, with more than 100 prisoners and detainees killed, marking one of the deadliest periods.
Within this framework, these deaths cannot be considered incidental outcomes; rather, they are the result of systematic policies that effectively constitute a form of slow or indirect execution, comparable in essence to the death penalty itself, even if the methods differ. Human rights organizations further suggest that the actual numbers may be higher, given the practices of concealment and enforced disappearance, particularly concerning detainees from Gaza. This underscores that the prison system has never been purely a legal matter, but rather a political tool for managing and controlling the population.
At the same time, this trajectory cannot be separated from what is taking place in Jerusalem and at Al-Aqsa Mosque, where, since the outbreak of the war, strict restrictions have been imposed on access. At times, these restrictions have amounted to the effective closure of the mosque to worshippers, preventing thousands of Palestinians from praying there, including during major religious occasions. These measures fall within a broader policy aimed at reshaping the religious and sovereign space in the city.
Historically, the idea of execution is not foreign to the colonial context in Palestine. During the British Mandate, execution sentences were carried out against Palestinian activists. June 17, 1930—known as the “Red Tuesday”—remains one of the most prominent moments, when Mohammad Jamjoum, Fouad Hijazi, and Atta al-Zeer were executed in Acre prison. What is happening today reproduces this logic, but within a system that claims legality while using it to legitimize policies of exclusion.
In conclusion, addressing the death penalty law should not be limited to condemnation and outrage. It requires a clear position that places the core issue in its proper context: these prisoners should not be in prisons at all—neither under the threat of execution nor otherwise—but among their families and their people. Their freedom is not merely a political demand, but a fundamental right guaranteed by divine laws and affirmed by international legal instruments. Chief among these are the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which affirms the right to life, liberty, and freedom from torture; the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, which restricts the use of the death penalty and emphasizes fair trial guarantees; and the Geneva Conventions, which prohibit cruel and inhumane treatment of detainees. Therefore, what is required goes beyond rejecting the death penalty law—it extends to a clear demand for the release of prisoners and their freedom, as a legitimate right grounded in this international legal framework, one that cannot be delayed or negotiated.
