Dareen Tatour’s Trial – Toward the Verdict

The trial of Dareen Tatour and the madness of being Israel

(The following article, co-authored by Kim Jensen, was published in Electronic Intifada)

In 1985, Mahmoud Darwish wrote an essay called “The Madness of Being Palestinian.”

After reflecting on the attacks against Palestinian refugee camps in Lebanon, he concluded that a Palestinian can only do one thing: “to become more Palestinian, a Palestinian until homeland or liberty, a Palestinian until death.”

Dareen family and supporters in court

Dareen Tatour in court with family and friends (Oren Ziv, Activestills)

Thirty years later, when the poet and photographer Dareen Tatour was seized from her home, interrogated, imprisoned and put on trial for “incitement to violence” and “support of a terror organization,” her only crime was just that: becoming more Palestinian in her words and her poems.

On 3 May, a verdict in this hollow charade of a trial is scheduled to be handed down by Adi Bambiliya-Einstein, a judge in the Nazareth magistrates’ court.

Human rights observers and free speech advocates around the world will be watching closely to see if the state of Israel will convict an innocent Palestinian poet against all evidence and in stark violation of international law.

Jennifer Clement, the president of PEN International, who visited Tatour and her family in Reineh – near Nazareth – last October, has reiterated the free expression group’s unwavering position.

“Dareen Tatour has been targeted for her poetry and peaceful activism,” Clement said. “We call for the charges against her to be dropped and for her immediate release.”

Despite such prominent expressions of global and local solidarity that have buoyed Tatour’s spirits, her outlook on the verdict remains bleak. Speaking from the confines of her home where she remains under house arrest, she relayed a pessimistic message: “There is no hope and no justice in the Israeli courts.”

The proceedings of the last few months do not inspire confidence. State prosecutor Alina Hardak’s closing arguments on 18 February, as well as her 43-page summary submitted to the court, demonstrate a disturbing eagerness to pursue a conviction based on emotional manipulation, distortion and slander.

The fact that the judge has countenanced this steady recitation of falsehoods and half-truths for two and a half years does not bode well.

Case built on distortion

The most obvious flaw in the case is the lack of any evidence that Tatour provoked an act of violence or that her work contains “a direct call for violence.”

Instead of presenting proof, Hardak has instead resorted to vilifying Tatour and systematically demonizing three key words she uses in her work: qawemintifada, and shahid.

Though the word qawem – “resist” – implies many forms of struggle, including nonviolent struggle, Hardak has incorrectly maintained that the word constitutes a direct appeal for violent resistance. The prosecutor has also incorrectly claimed that the word intifada, which means a “shaking off” or an “uprising” can only imply violence and terrorism.

While these two misreadings are maddening enough, it is Hardak’s misinterpretation of the word shahid, or “martyr,” that has transformed the lengthy proceedings into a bizarre display of vindictive incompetence.

Within the context of Palestinian literature, culture and politics, the word shahid signifies all of those who have died in the struggle or as a consequence of the occupation, most especially the innocent victims.

Ignoring this incontrovertible fact – as if Google didn’t exist at all – the prosecution has relentlessly promulgated the racist Israeli misconception that the word shahid is a codeword for terrorist or suicide attacker.

This malicious misinterpretation has led the prosecutor to miss the point of “Resist, My People, Resist Them,” Tatour’s fiery anti-occupation poem written in reaction to the extrajudicial execution of the Palestinian student Hadil Hashlamoun and the burning of two Palestinian children, Muhammad Abu Khdeir and Ali Dawabsha.

The line at the center of the indictment – “follow the caravan of martyrs” – functions as a figurative invitation for readers to remain mindful of the victims, not as an explicit invitation to martyrdom.

The twisting of the concept of the martyr is also central to the charge related to the “I am the next martyr” meme that Dareen posted on Facebook after Israeli soldiers and guards shot the young Palestinian Israa Abed in Afula – a city in present-day Israel – during October 2015.

The widely used meme is akin to the popular “Je suis Charlie” or “I can’t breathe” memes expressing solidarity with victims of violence, yet the prosecution ludicrously contends that Tatour posted it to encourage suicide attacks.

Propaganda and delusion

Though Israeli authorities quickly exonerated Israa Abed of any attempt to carry out an attack, police witnesses in Tatour’s hearings repeatedly called Abed “the terrorist who was in Afula” in order to falsely associate Tatour with terrorism.

In her written summary and oral arguments, Hardak, the prosecutor, slanderously insists that at the time of her post Tatour knew that “she [Abed] came to Afula to attack Jews,” even though Tatour in all her interrogations explained that she didn’t believe the false accusations against Abed.

By the end of the hearings, not a single fact was left standing. When the defense team and the international solidarity campaign began to focus on Tatour’s right to freedom of expression, Hardak switched tactics mid-trial and started to deny that the poem “Resist, My People, Resist Them” was even a poem and that Tatour was a poet at all.

In her entire summary, Hardak carefully avoids calling Tatour a poet, or calling the poem cited in full in the indictment a poem, referring to it only as “a text” or “selected words.”

Still maintaining that Tatour was “influential” and that her words had a “real possibility of legitimizing and encouraging acts of violence or terror,” Hardak writes that Tatour was invited “to present” at public events, studiously avoiding the fact she was invited to recite her poetry.

As we review such records of propaganda and delusion, it is clear that the trial of Dareen Tatour is not about madness of being Palestinian, but rather the madness of being Israel. This is the madness of a state that is consistently lenient on convicted Israeli terrorists but that is willing to persecute nonviolent expressions of Palestinian protest.

This is the madness of a state that deploys snipers to target unarmed protesters, and then claims that the snipers are merely defending a “border.”

This is the madness of a state based on the foundational denial of the indigenous people who have made it a central aspect of their identity to resist their own erasure.

No matter what the verdict is on 3 May, we can be sure that the spectacle of intractable insanity will only end when the Palestinian people, who refuse to be obliterated or silenced, will achieve full, equal rights.

For her part, Dareen Tatour is busy writing a book about her ordeal called My Dangerous Poem. Hopefully – if activists around the world exert enough pressure – she will be able to finish, publish and publicize this book as a free woman.

Kim Jensen is a Baltimore-based writer, poet and activist. Her books include a novel, The Woman I Left Behind, and two collections of poems, Bread Alone and The Only Thing that Matters. She is professor of English and women’s studies at the Community College of Baltimore County.

 

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Poet Dareen Tatour’s trial: Despite objections – another prosecution summary

(This article first appeared in “+972”. Different Hebrew versions appeared in “Local Call” and “Haifa Ha-Hofshit”).

Like a cartoon character who runs over a cliff but continues to run in the air, or like Achilles who thought he could pass the tortoise easily but each time he got close, the turtle moved a bit further away, so is the trial of Dareen Tatour, a Palestinian poet who has been detained since October 2015 — defying gravity, looking like it will never end.

Dareen Tatour and supporters after trial 18 Feb 2018

Dareen Tatour, Gaby Lasky and supporters after the hearing

After the last witness testified, back in April 2017, Judge Adi Bambiliya-Einstein decided that the parties should submit written summaries within three months. In September, Tatour’s defense attorney, Gaby Lasky, asked to present new evidence, and the issue was brought before the judge on November 15. On that occasion, the judge accepted a request by the prosecutor, attorney Alina Hardak, to supplement the written summaries with oral closing arguments.

After several postponements, a court hearing was scheduled for the additional summaries on Sunday, February 18. In response to Lasky’s request to set the hearing a little late, considering that she must arrive from Tel Aviv to Nazareth, the judge set it to 8:30 am. On Sunday morning, at 8:30, Tatour arrived with her father, the defense attorney and about fifteen of her supporters at the courtroom’s door, which finally opened at 8:45.

The prosecution’s extra show

The prosecution submitted 43 pages of written summaries. The defense managed to shorten its arguments and squeeze them into 83 pages. The initial justification for the extra hearing had been the new evidence.

And yet there was not much new evidence.

The prosecution convinced the court not to accept as evidence a screenshot from Tatour’s Facebook page showing that she initially published the profile picture with the caption “I am the next martyr” in July 2014, as a response to the murder of the teen Muhammad Abu Khdeir. It was rejected on technical grounds — the absence of a witness corroborating the authenticity of the image.

The second piece of new evidence related to the publication of a video accompanied by the lyrics of Tatour’s poem, “Resist My People.” The defense brought evidence that the same video was later posted by Israeli Culture Minister Miri Regev on her own Facebook page. That no legal steps have been taken against Regev, the defense argued, constitutes proof of discriminatory prosecution. The arguments on this matter lasted less than a minute, out of an hour and a quarter of the prosecution’s closing arguments.

On the other hand, the prosecutor used the event to repeat that which she had already detailed at length in the written summaries. She tried to present the poem, “Resist My People,” as part of the wave of attacks by Palestinians in October 2015.

The defense insisted that the poem is a legitimate expression of protest, which speaks about the occupation’s violence against innocent Palestinians. The defense based its arguments on specific events that were mentioned in the poem: the children who were burned; Hadeel, who was shot; the settler’s robbery; and the violence of the army’s special undercover units.

The prosecutor focused on what she thought was clear to every “average person”—the Israeli worldview that sees every Arab, and especially whoever opposes the occupation, as a dangerous terrorist. During the trial the prosecution screened gory videos of Palestinian attacks, under the pretext of checking the skill and objectivity of the defense’s translator. This time, to refresh the judge’s memory, the prosecutor began to read aloud in court a list of attacks by Palestinians that took place in October 2015. Defense Attorney Gaby Lasky objected, which the judge accepted — a rare occasion in this court.

According to the prosecution, the publication of the photo “I am the next Martyr” was part of a systematic pattern of encouraging suicide attacks. The fact that the picture was first published in response to the burning of young Abu Khdeir, of course, should have been conclusive proof that Tatour speaks of the martyr in the sense of a victim rather than an attacker. However, as mentioned, the prosecutor managed to have that evidence stricken. Now she wanted “to prove” that this image was first published in October 2015.  During the trial, the prosecution claimed (and Tatour consistently denied) that this picture first appeared next to the picture of Israa Abed, who was shot at the central bus station in Afula on October 9, 2015, after she was wrongfully suspected of intending to carry out an attack. The prosecution used this false claim as proof that it couldn’t have been published by Tatour earlier. On the basis of this circular argument, the prosecutor even dramatically declared that Tatour was “lying brazenly,” which led to another objection by Lasky.

A whole section of the defense summaries focused on the importance of preserving freedom of expression, especially political and artistic expression. On top of many legal precedents, the defense also quoted international conventions to which Israel is a signatory. One of the cited documents was a joint declaration of 57 countries issued in September 2015, before the 30th session of the UN Human Rights Council, which relates to the freedom of artistic expression. The prosecutor claimed that this declaration is not legally binding and that, in fact, Israel’s support of it has no practical value. She even said that this was the position of the State Attorney’s Office Department of International Law. Lasky requested to see this legal opinion. It may be time that Israel’s partners to this statement also begin asking questions.

Was the prosecution authorized to file the indictment?

The indictment accuses Tatour of two crimes: incitement to violence and support for a terrorist organization. These two articles, by nature, restrict freedom of expression, and therefore such indictments require the approval of the attorney general. In practice, the prosecution only submitted to the court approval from the attorney general for prosecuting Tatour for “incitement to violence.”

It is worth noting that the excessive sensitivity to freedom of expression in Israel’s legal system is applied mainly to the freedom of expression of settlers and other anti-Arab extremists. Therefore, in cases of this type, the defense often quotes cases of right-wing activists who were acquitted despite serious violent statements. The judges, for some reason, have no difficulty telling the difference; when the accused is Arab, they use entirely different criteria.

Lasky argued in her written summaries that in the absence of the required authorization, the part of the indictment that deals with support for a terrorist organization should be considered null and void. She cited precedents of indictments that were dismissed due to lack of such authorization, and showed that such decisions can be made even in the late stages of a trial.

In response to these claims, the prosecutor drew a rabbit from her hat. She presented to the judge a letter which, she claimed, proved that a deputy state attorney approved indicting Tatour for supporting a terrorist organization. Lasky was furious at how the prosecutor suddenly presented a document that had not been submitted to the defense as part of the investigation materials. The prosecutor explained that this was an internal correspondence with the State Attorney’s Office that was not part of the investigation materials. The judge gave Lasky the letter so she could look at it, but the prosecutor snatched it from her hands, claiming Lasky was not allowed to see it.

For a few minutes, a dramatic struggle took place between the prosecutor and the defense attorney, partly as a shouting match and partly by dictating arguments for the court’s records.

Lasky argued that the accused could not be convicted on the basis of materials she had not been allowed to see. The prosecutor gradually withdrew, saying she was ready for Lasky to see the letter but not photograph it. The judge made it clear that if the letter was indeed attached to the case, it would be scanned and accessible for the defense. The prosecutor sought to consult with her superiors, and argued that the entire issue of the necessary approval is an internal procedure that does not oblige her to present approval to the court, and that the court should be satisfied with her declaration that the indictment was submitted with the necessary authority.

Finally, the same letter was presented again to the judge. It was clear that it was not actually an authorization by the attorney general. The judge announced that it would also be given to the defense, which would probably refer to it in her response to the prosecution’s summaries.

Five minutes

Dareen Tatour and supporters waiting for trial 18 Feb 2018

At 8:30 Dareen, Lasky and 15 supporters were already waiting at the court’s door

The hearing was supposed to last an hour and a half. Starting 15 minutes late, after an hour and a quarter of the prosecutor’s summaries, it was already 10 o’clock. Some litigants that were scheduled to appear before the same judge were already waiting in the courtroom. The judge told Lasky: “You have five minutes to summarize.” I still wonder whether she meant this seriously or in jest.

Lasky used the few minutes she had to object to the whole procedure of the supplementary summaries. She reviewed the sequence of events, how it was decided that the summaries would be delivered in writing, followed by the verdict, with no room for further summaries. The nature of the criminal proceeding, she said, citing from legal textbooks, is such that the prosecutor summarizes first, then the defendant is given the right to the last word. There was justification for supplementary summaries because of the additional evidence, but that is not what happened. Lasky demanded to cancel the entire procedure.

In the event that this request is rejected, Lasky explained that she cannot respond without preparation and examination of the prosecution’s new claims, which include references to different court rulings and minutes of Knesset deliberations designated to clarify the legislator’s intention. She said she would prefer to submit a written response.

The judge and the audience

This prolonged and absurd trial always leads to new surprises.

At a certain stage, during the stormy debate over the submission of the letter ostensibly proving that the indictment had been approved, journalist Ofra Yeshua-Lyth, who was sitting next to Tatour, remarked out loud: “Write it down, it was not recorded in the protocol.”

The judge stopped the hearing and asked: “Who said that?”

There was silence in the courtroom and then Ofra said “I”, already prepared to be thrown out of the hall for disturbing the hearing.

However, in lieu of the expected scolding, the judge told Ofra that she should not worry and that the trial was conducted with great fairness.

Since discussion between the judge and the public had been legitimized, Ofra added that she had examined the minutes of the trial and that not everything that was said in the courtroom was recorded.

The judge patiently explained her policy regarding writing the protocol: She explained that there was a heated debate between the prosecution and the defense, and that only what was of legal value was recorded. When some of the audience repeatedly argued that important things were not recorded, the judge replied that if something important was missing in the protocol, the defense could file an official request for its amendment.

Toward the end of the hearing, another activist, Bilha Golan, remarked: “this is a political trial”. In response the judge resumed the rare dialogue with the public. It was, in essence, a lecture by the judge – not to be mentioned in the protocol, of course – designed to prove that this was a fair process whose sole purpose was to enable her to judge objectively, according to the facts presented to her.

“Everyone is here to examine the truth”, the judge claimed. She explained patiently – again – and even said she was talking to us as she sometimes spoke to her children. She even claimed that we were hurting Tatour. According to her, by our one-sided approach, we made Tatour feel that the process was unfair and that she had been wronged!

Activist Hana Safran took the opportunity to remind the judge that while the trial was being held, Tatour’s life had been put on hold for more than two years. Even if she is eventually acquitted, she has suffered greatly – and no one can undo that suffering. The judge replied that the matter of house arrest was not her responsibility, but was rather determined in another proceeding by different judges. The audience remarked that in both processes there is the same prosecutor, but the judge replied that the prosecutor did not rule. She said that anyone who wants Tatour to be released should apply for it in the parallel procedure. Perhaps this judge is unaware that judge Idris, who is responsible for Tatour’s detention, rejected the latest request to revoke her house arrest — without even scheduling a hearing.

What next?

As expected, the judge rejected the defense’s objection to the proceedings.

She told Lasky to choose between summarizing on the spot, and promised that she would stay until the middle of the night to hear her arguments, and presenting written summaries. In the end, she gave Lasky seven days to submit a written response.

Only after receiving these summaries will the judge set a date for announcing the verdict. Until it is given, Dareen Tatour will have lost more than two and a half years of her life to prison and house arrest.