States are there to protect. But so are fathers.
Abdel Aziz Majarmeh was standing next to his 13-year-old son, Islam, as he was shot dead by Israeli forces this month at the entrance to Jenin refugee camp, in the occupied West Bank.
My son fell to the ground, and then I heard the sound of a shot, he said. An army jeep came up and five or six soldiers pointed their weapons at me, telling me to leave. I didn't even know my son was martyred. I started dragging him away.
Abdel Aziz said he had gone to the camp – occupied by Israel's army since January – to retrieve family documents from his home there.
There is no one for me to complain to, he told me. They control everything. The Palestinian Authority can't even protect itself – it only implements the decisions of the Jews.
As a Palestinian, Abdel Aziz is resigned to his powerlessness. As a father, he's tormented.
In my mind, I keep asking that soldier: why pick on a 13-year-old boy? I'm standing right next to him. Shoot me. Why are you shooting children? I'm here, shoot me.
Israel's army stated it had fired to neutralize a threat posed by suspects approaching them in a closed military zone but refused to clarify what threat the teenager had represented.
Cities like Jenin were placed under the full control of the Palestinian Authority three decades ago, under the Israeli-Palestinian Oslo Peace Accords meant to seed statehood. But Israel claims it was terrorism that flourished there, responding with military incursions and escalated violence in recent years.
The recent recognition of a Palestinian state by the UK, France, and others amidst ongoing violence highlights the political divide between Israel and its European allies. With Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu declaring, There will be no Palestinian state, and his government pursuing aggressive annexation policies, the hopes for peaceful resolution remain clouded.
Recognition from foreign allies may ultimately serve as a critical reminder that the question of Palestinian statehood cannot be quelled by unilateral Israeli actions.
Abdel Aziz Majarmeh was standing next to his 13-year-old son, Islam, as he was shot dead by Israeli forces this month at the entrance to Jenin refugee camp, in the occupied West Bank.
My son fell to the ground, and then I heard the sound of a shot, he said. An army jeep came up and five or six soldiers pointed their weapons at me, telling me to leave. I didn't even know my son was martyred. I started dragging him away.
Abdel Aziz said he had gone to the camp – occupied by Israel's army since January – to retrieve family documents from his home there.
There is no one for me to complain to, he told me. They control everything. The Palestinian Authority can't even protect itself – it only implements the decisions of the Jews.
As a Palestinian, Abdel Aziz is resigned to his powerlessness. As a father, he's tormented.
In my mind, I keep asking that soldier: why pick on a 13-year-old boy? I'm standing right next to him. Shoot me. Why are you shooting children? I'm here, shoot me.
Israel's army stated it had fired to neutralize a threat posed by suspects approaching them in a closed military zone but refused to clarify what threat the teenager had represented.
Cities like Jenin were placed under the full control of the Palestinian Authority three decades ago, under the Israeli-Palestinian Oslo Peace Accords meant to seed statehood. But Israel claims it was terrorism that flourished there, responding with military incursions and escalated violence in recent years.
The recent recognition of a Palestinian state by the UK, France, and others amidst ongoing violence highlights the political divide between Israel and its European allies. With Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu declaring, There will be no Palestinian state, and his government pursuing aggressive annexation policies, the hopes for peaceful resolution remain clouded.
Recognition from foreign allies may ultimately serve as a critical reminder that the question of Palestinian statehood cannot be quelled by unilateral Israeli actions.
