I’ve Been Kidnapped by Israel in International Waters

I am writing from a Spanish-flagged sailing boat called Adara. On board are elected politicians from Spain, Portugal and Argentina, as well as a doctor and two journalists. We are carrying baby formula, food and medicine for the starving Palestinian people in Gaza. Our mission is entirely peaceful and entirely legal. 

It is Wednesday afternoon, and the sea is calm. But things on board are frenetic because we are now well into the area in which Israel has previously intercepted boats in international waters, in direct violation of international law. If you are reading this, it means the same thing has now happened to us. My editor has published this piece because I have been illegally captured and taken into Israeli detention. 

I spent a month at sea on board the Global Sumud Flotilla, reporting on an unprecedented attempt by hundreds of activists from 44 countries to break Israel’s illegal blockade and establish a humanitarian aid corridor. I wanted the world to know that it was happening, and I knew we couldn’t rely on reporting by mainstream media journalists, who started off uninterested, and later published dangerous inaccuracies, such as claiming a drone strike was a misfired flare or a fire caused by a cigarette butt.

I’m so glad I did, because things have happened in the past four weeks that are truly unprecedented. Three Nato countries, for instance, offered naval support to an activist initiative led by Greta Thunberg, fundamentally challenging the almost unwavering complicity of world leaders in genocide. 

But aside from joining as a journalist, I also took part because I have six siblings living in Palestine under Zionist occupation. Growing up in the UK, I watched from afar as they were shot, imprisoned and terrorised, simply for wanting to live on land that has belonged to our family for generations. I am scared and heartbroken for them every single day, and yet their suffering is still nothing compared to the suffering of people in Gaza.

Sailing on this mission means I almost certainly won’t be able to visit my family again, at least for as long as Palestine is occupied. But they have all supported me wholeheartedly from the start, because they understand that it is imperative that people like me – people who can – take action. They understand why I couldn’t remain a passive witness to Israel’s atrocities any longer.

Israel’s genocide in Gaza is the worst crime of our age. And governments around the world refuse to act. My own government, under Keir Starmer, still won’t even call a genocide a genocide. It is these politicians who have imperilled us – ordinary citizens forced to do their work for them, because they are too cowardly or too corrupt.

As we sailed, Israel’s genocide intensified, with new levels of brutality enacted against civilians in Gaza City. In the month we spent at sea, hundreds more children were slaughtered in their homes. A pregnant woman was beheaded, and more starving people were shot while collecting food aid. 

And so we continued, through incendiary, explosive and chemical attacks on our boats; the hijacking of our radio systems; suspected sabotage and an Israeli smear campaign that sought to legitimise violence against us.

This journey has been tough. As someone who had only ever spent an afternoon on a sailing boat before, it is by far the most difficult physical and psychological thing I’ve ever had to do. But I know that when things are hard, they still pale in comparison to conditions in Gaza. 

From day one, I have relied on the support of my friends on board. From the fellow journalists who helped film my videos, to the people who made me laugh and comforted me when I cried, to the old Irish captain, who said with reassuring scorn when some people worried about the weather: “I’m an Atlantic sailor. This is just a pond”.

That we got as far as we did, despite obstacle upon obstacle, is testament not to the organising of this mission, but to the tenacity of its participants, captains and crew. The ingredients of that tenacity are first and foremost love for Palestine, but also the bond we formed with each other within one or two days of being at sea together. This is living, breathing solidarity.

And it doesn’t end here. Our flotilla was the 38th attempt to break Israel’s illegal blockade of Gaza, and there will be more. Israel thinks it can bully the whole world into getting its way. It thinks it can try to destroy an entire people with legal impunity, and it even thinks it deserves critical immunity among the general public. For weeks, it thought it could terrify and threaten our flotilla into retreat, but it failed. And it will fail and fail again. The world is finally alive to Palestinian suffering and Palestinian rights, and the time of Israeli occupation, apartheid and genocide will soon be over.