The Story of Odeh Hathalin

Can We Talk About Justice in a World of Occupation?

About a week and a half ago, on July 28, the settler Yinon Levi entered the village of Umm al-Khair accompanied by a bulldozer. They trespassed as the bulldozer crushed the fence surrounding the private land of one family in the village, where olive trees had been planted. The invading bulldozer smashed the fence, uprooted olive trees, and ran over and injured a resident who lost consciousness and hurt his arm. After this happened, the attacked villagers defended themselves by throwing stones at the bulldozer. Yinon Levi, a particularly violent settler who already faced sanctions from the European Union and the Biden administration, stood beside the bulldozer and was unharmed by the stones. This did not stop him from raising the gun he was holding and firing. Two shots were fired toward a group of residents that gathered there. One of the shots hit and killed Odeh Hathalin, a 32-year-old villager and father of three young children.

Videos released clearly show Levi’s rampage at the scene, drawing the gun and firing two shots. Witnesses say that when soldiers arrived, Levi pointed at the residents he wanted arrested, and the soldiers did indeed take them. It’s not clear how many residents were taken – testimonies vary between five and eight, perhaps more. Regardless of the number, the significant point is that the murderer directs the soldiers whom to arrest, and they obey.

What Happened Next  

As mentioned, the shooter, Yinon Levi, ordered the soldiers to arrest several villagers, who were indeed detained, handcuffed for hours, and had their phones confiscated. As of last Saturday, two of them were released without charges, of course; the others were still held. Yinon Levi was placed under house arrest but was released from that after a few days.

Odeh’s body was also taken by the army and is still being held. The military ordered the villagers to dismantle the mourning tent set up as people gathered to offer condolences. Like in Judaism, Muslims also bury immediately and observe “shiva” for three days. The army holding the body prevents the family from this crucial closure process. The army’s condition to return Odeh’s body is that he not be buried in the village, but in a remote location, with no more than 50 people attending the funeral, and no mourning tent to be erected.

Trading in bodies – a known practice of the Israeli army – takes a cruel twist here, as the victim is an innocent man, a loved peace activist, whose murderer roams free, ready to kill the next victim.

The family’s only request is to have their son’s body returned and to allow a proper burial and mourning process, as Odeh’s mother, Umm Salem, pleads:

“Where is the law? Where is justice? Where is the humanity of the State of Israel?! We did nothing to them (the settlers). For 50 years we never threw a stone.

Why did they do this to us? They murdered Odeh and also took the children to prison. Seventeen young men were arrested; eight have been released.

I want my two boys. For Odeh to be buried, and Aziz to be released. I can’t bury Odeh without Aziz being present at the funeral. And he (the murderer) must stand trial.

What crime did I commit? Why did he hit me and throw me onto the stones? I got hit on my hand and head. Just because I shouted at him, ‘Why did you kill my son?’

I thought Odeh would live. If I had known he was gone, I don’t know what I would have done to myself”.

Who Was Odeh Hathalin?

Last Saturday, August 2, I arrived at the village with my friends Hosam Balum and Buma Inbar to offer condolences. For Buma, a long time peace activist, this tragic event is a personal tragedy.

Buma said: "My connection with Masafer Yatta, especially with Susya, Twani, and Umm al-Khair, began a long time ago, in the 1980s. The connection with Umm al-Khair was very special, thanks to Eid Hathalin and Odeh Hathalin, for whom I once organized a summer camp for children with burn injuries in the north, which they spoke about for years after. Odeh was then a child, an amazing child. I have been accompanying the village for decades, I really feel like part of the family. Whenever I come, Odeh’s mother cares for me, inviting me in, to sit and drink coffee. When he was a child, Odeh was burned in a tent, and that story touched my heart deeply, and we managed to get him treated for burns in Saudi Arabia. Since he was 10, I have been supporting Odeh, and even then you could see his leadership qualities. He always excelled in school, always smiled, and led the soccer team we formed there with Hapoel Tel Aviv, as part of a project for Palestinian and Israeli children. Truly, words can’t describe this boy… One day I arrived in Umm al-Khair and he came to tell me he was teaching English at school, and I was so proud – it felt like a huge achievement. I am heartbroken and deeply sorry for what happened. I will remember Odeh forever. I can’t bring myself to delete his phone number from my phone. His death is a great loss to all of us. May his memory be blessed."

When we arrived, we found a stunned family and several mourners, mostly Israeli and international activists, sitting quietly in the nearly empty mourning tent – because the army forbade it and Odeh has yet to be buried, but people still want to come, comfort, and gain strength. Grief can't be stopped.

The conversations took place quietly, in small groups. At the edge of this area, Odeh was murdered, and around the bloodstain where he fell, someone placed a circle of stones, a monument. Family members are there, eyes shining with tears, coming to bless, inviting to sit, offering coffee and dates as per tradition, and sitting down to hold the same conversation again and again – the talk of lively, smiling Odeh, the educator who worked with children. It is impossible to keep dry eyes. The terrible tragedy inflicted on them – so senseless, so unnecessary, so cruel – is heartbreaking.

Meanwhile in Israel

Meanwhile in Israel, I’ve seen protests forming, calling for "Justice for Odeh"; justice for Odeh today, just like they called for “justice for Iyad” in 2020, when a Border Police officer shot Iyad Al-Halaq in Jerusalem and was released without any punishment; like the question that echoed in the air, "Where were you in Hawara?" after settlers and the army carried out a pogrom there and no one was held accountable.

The only uniqueness of these three events is that they reached the Israeli public’s ears. Somehow, I suppose, the extreme nature of the senseless killing of a man with autism and a man with facial burns managed to break through the fortified walls of Israeli society in general and the Israeli media in particular.

But in reality, in the occupied West Bank – especially in Area C, where Israel is the sovereign over non-Israeli residents – these events are daily occurrences, with the pace and severity of the violence increasing daily.

There’s no dispute that this is happening. This is reality, even if the Israeli media doesn’t bring it to the Israeli reader. Anyone who wants to know is invited to visit the Daily File where Adi Argov collects and publishes all the violence that is happening. It’s highly recommended to look there, if only to see reality as it is, and not as someone else wants you to see it

The Big Picture

The big picture is the occupation. And the occupation rests on a Jewish superiority mindset according to which “I deserve more than they do, and I’m allowed to do anything to make that happen.” Within this framework, terrible atrocities happen – both in the West Bank, for decades, and in Gaza, round after round of violence, with unprecedented levels of violence in the past two years. Right now, the current government of destruction has formally approved the occupation, making it the clear and open policy – we want as much land as possible with as few people on it as possible.

The stories of Odeh hathalin, Iyad Al-Halaq, and Hawara are isolated fragments within a much larger picture. Anyone looking at this picture will see two human collectives – Palestinian and Israeli – where the Israeli is the strong ruler over the weaker Palestinian, controlling every detail of life, big or small. The Israeli takes away the Palestinian’s land, sets daily rules about when the Palestinian can leave their home, where they can travel, where they can or can’t live or build, what they can or cannot eat, where they can or can’t spend time, when and how they can organize, act, or express opinions about their reality, when and how they can or cannot defend themselves from violence, and so on and so forth.

Anyone seeing this bigger picture will surely notice that the powerful side focuses primarily on what the weaker side is forbidden to do. This is the very essence of occupation, long before the current government – that undoubtedly pushed the limits of shame and concealment to their extreme. The horrible distortion of this violent and harsh relationship is now exposed for all to see.

That’s why I think that while the calls for “Justice for Odeh” are important – they are like shouting inside a closed room. Until we truly see and recognize the occupation, and truly understand all its details and meanings in the daily suffocation of those affected, until we realize what we, all of us as a collective, are doing to our neighbors, and understand how terrible it is – definitely for them, but surely for us too – there can be no real change here, and of course, no justice whatsoever. Until then, no real change can happen here—no fundamental change—and certainly no justice. Because how can justice exist within a system that, by definition, is forceful, one-sided, and biased?

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‣ At the time of writing, it was announced that an agreement was reached between the family and the army, and Ouda was buried near the village this morning. Despite this agreement, the army still set up checkpoints around the village to prevent people from attending the funeral.

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Ayala Shalev is the editor of That's About Us.