Copyright Los Angeles Times
The three military vehicles growled to a stop in front of Zaher Ibrahim’s elegant two-story home in this village in the occupied West Bank. It was 3:30 a.m. on Feb. 16, and the Israeli soldiers — two dozen of them, family members said — ran up and hammered at the door. When Ibrahim opened, they asked for his youngest son, Mohammed Zaher Ibrahim, then 15, and a Palestinian American from Florida, like the rest of the family. Moments later, Mohammed was blindfolded, family members said, his hands zip-tied behind his back, and pushed into one of the vehicles. “We didn’t even know what was happening,” his father said. As he was transported for interrogation, according to testimony Mohammed gave to a lawyer from Defense for Children International-Palestine, a children’s rights organization, soldiers beat him with their rifle butts. Ibrahim called friends, who reassured him that Israeli raids were a part of life in the West Bank. His son would spend the night, maybe another day, they said, and then be released. More than eight months later, Mohammed is still in prison. He joins hundreds of Palestinian children in Israeli detention, according to rights groups, almost half of them held without charge or trial in an incarceration system that critics say is designed to work against them. Mohammed, who has since been transferred to Ofer, an Israeli military prison in the West Bank where allegations of detainee abuse are common, is charged with two counts of throwing rocks at Israeli vehicles and damaging one of them, according to a charge sheet obtained by The Times. Israel considers rock throwing terrorism and authorizes soldiers to open fire on those doing so, while Palestinians view the practice as a symbolic means of fighting Israeli occupation. It remains unclear what evidence the Israeli government possesses to support the allegations against Mohammed, but he denies the charges and has been waiting for a court date. If convicted, he faces a maximum sentence of 20 years. The family divides its time between Tampa and Mazraa al-Sharqiya, which is home to many Palestinian Americans who immigrated to the U.S. but who choose to keep a strong link to their village. After finishing the school year in the Middle East, Mohammed was supposed to return to Tampa and apprentice in the family’s ice cream business. Instead, as Mohammed’s detention continued — he turned 16 in prison — Ibrahim took a leave from work and remained in the West Bank to help with the legal defense. With the help of relatives in the U.S., he’s engaged in a pressure campaign on the Trump administration to win his son’s release. Looking shell-shocked as he sat on his couch on recent morning, Ibrahim spoke with quiet anger at what he saw as the U.S. abandoning its citizens. “My son is a U.S. citizen. I’m a U.S. citizen. But our passports make no difference,” he said. Of the U.S. government, he added, “If they wanted Mohammed out, they could have done it.” After the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas-led attack, Israel barred visitation and phone calls with prisoners, so Ibrahim relies on reports about Mohammed’s condition from U.S. Embassy officials. They reported that he lost a significant portion of his weight and was suffering from scabies, but that the Israel Prison Service had provided treatment. In his testimony, Mohammed said meals in the prison are “extremely insufficient,” going on to describe meager rations with “tiny pieces of bread” and “undercooked, dry rice.” No dinner is served. Inmates are allowed out into the yard for 40 minutes in the morning, he said, but much of that time is wasted trying to use one of the six available showers. Children are placed in a room with only four beds, forcing some to sleep on thin mattresses on the ground. Last week, 27 U.S. lawmakers, including Sen. Adam B. Schiff (D-Calif.), sent a letter to U.S. Ambassador to Israel Mike Huckabee and Secretary of State Marco Rubio saying they were concerned about reports of mistreatment of Palestinian prisoners and feared for Mohammed’s safety after reports that a 17-year-old Palestinian died in an Israeli prison this year. They requested a response by Monday. “As we have been told repeatedly, ‘the Department of State has no higher priority than the safety and security of U.S. citizens abroad,’” the letter says. “We share that view and urge you to fulfill this responsibility by engaging the Israeli government directly to secure the swift release of this American boy.” Mohammed must appear before a judge every 45 days, but so far all his court dates have ended the same way, Ibrahim said: with a postponement. Although Ibrahim knows he’ll waste a day in the courthouse and it will almost certainly be pointless, he insists on attending every session, “just so Mohammed knows somebody came to that court.” But these days, he can’t bear to glimpse his son’s face on the video link in the courtroom. “I try not to look because it kills me,” he said. “The worst part is it tells you how America is. That’s what hurts … where your government supports Israel with bombs and money, but doesn’t have the power to say, ‘Let the father visit his son,’ or ‘Get a phone call.’” Mohammed’s latest court appearance was Wednesday, where there was hope of an agreement to set him free. But hours after Ibrahim attended the hearing, there was little word other than that Mohammed remained imprisoned. It’s not the first calamity to befall the family in the West Bank. This year, Palestinian authorities said, Israeli settlers beat to death Sayfollah Kamel Musallet, Mohammed’s 20-year-old cousin, in the nearby town of Sinjil. At least six Americans have been killed in the West Bank in attacks by Israeli settlers or the Israeli military since Oct. 7, 2023. No arrests have been made, even as Musallet’s father, Kamel, who also spends time in both Mazraa al-Sharqiya and Tampa, has been pushing for action from the U.S. government. He says he’s facing a two-tier system of justice that prioritizes some American lives over others. “We’ve been programmed to know that if anything happens, as an American, the government will help you. But because you’re Palestinian, there’s no accountability,” Kamel Musallet said. Huckabee, an ardent supporter of the settler movement, visited Kamel Musallet in July and described his son’s killing as a “terrorist act.” He called on the Israeli government to “aggressively investigate.” Kamel Musallet hoped Huckabee could bring about Mohammed’s release so that “something good will come out of Sayfollah’s death.” But more than five months later, Ibrahim said those words have not been followed by action. “Talk is free, so you can say what you want,” he said. “But was justice taken? No.” The family says a U.S. official was assigned to speak to the Israeli government about Mohammed’s case. Mohammed’s arrest and Musallet’s death come as the areas around their village see an unprecedented increase in settler attacks. One morning in October, at the start of the olive harvest, Ibrahim joined other villagers to visit family lands they have been all but barred from accessing by the Hilltop Youth, an extremist movement of Israeli settlers that routinely occupy West Bank lands and attack Palestinians. Ibrahim and his friends approached Sinjil and maneuvered their SUV around rocks placed on the road. As they continued through the field, Hilltop Youth members emerged from the olive groves nearby, some carrying rocks and metal poles. A journalist in the front of the car raised his phone to take a video, saying he was an American; the settlers kept their distance until the car moved away. Some threw rocks in its wake. “I wonder if they’ll get prosecuted for that,” Ibrahim said, his voice mirthless at the joke.
