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This document is an unofficial translation of the original Hebrew text from HaAretz Hebrew newspaper. In the event of any discrepancy between the content of this document and the original text, the original Hebrew text shall prevail. This translation has been prepared in good faith by a non-professional translator and may contain errors.

By Ariel Dukelski, member of “A Land for All” and a “Standing Together” activist 

Translation by Bernice Keshet

Date of original publication: 25/5/2025

Original Hebrew text: HaAretz and Archive 

Bound in chains on my hands and feet, I was led to "Ohaley Kedar" prison. We were taken to a single female prisoners’ cell in a wing full of male prisoners, instead of to a regular holding cell at the police station. "I'm putting you in a cell with Russian women, even though I know you like Bedouin men" — that’s how the prison guard introduced the cell, which reeked of faeces, urine, and cigarettes. I couldn’t believe I’d find myself here, at the age of 23.

Just a few hours earlier, I had gone out with hundreds of others to protest and demand an immediate end to this terrible war, to demand truly safe lives for everyone — the kind that is achieved through agreements, not bombings. I arrived in Sderot angry. I’m part of a generation that’s fed up. A generation that hasn’t known a sane reality and is fighting for its future here. A generation that must choose between going to prison for refusing army reserve duty or sacrificing our lives in a senseless war. There were many of us, and we marched together. Then we were arrested. The allegation against us – That we dared to demand peace, or in the police’s words: “disturbed the public order” just by walking along the side of the road (a charge never brought against the right-wing activists of “Tsav 9” [see comment below] when they block the humanitarian aid trucks headed for Gaza).

In prison, I experienced fear, uncertainty, violence, and humiliation like I’d never known before. I realised the situation was worse than I thought: this was a completely political arrest. We’ve reached the lowest point — demanding peace has become illegal. There are things you’re not allowed to say. You’re not allowed to say this war is destroying our lives. You’re not allowed to say that dozens of children and innocent people are being killed daily. You’re not allowed to say that the truth is that there can’t be a prosperous, hopeful future here without a brave peace.

You’re also not allowed to say that Israeli policy has failed in the most painful way possible. We felt it in our own flesh on October 7th. The walls [we believed in] have fooled us. Thousands of Israelis were murdered, and dozens more are still kidnapped. And in Gaza, for a year and a half now, 25 children on average — a whole classroom! — are killed every day. A nursery class erased every day. Twenty-five children. Entire lives.

So of course a march like this, against indiscriminate killing, puts that unimaginable failure right in the government's face. Of course it’s a protest they want to silence.

At first, the police asked to extend our detention by 7 days. When I entered the courtroom in chains, I saw my mother crying in the crowd. That broke me. So no, I won’t lie and say I came out of this stronger. I was shaking with fear. I didn’t know what to expect.

When I finally returned home, I promised myself I would never put myself in that situation again. I kept thinking about it on the ride home, and again the following night. I remembered stories about [other] violent, bloody conflicts that came to an end. Of people who didn’t give up, who paid a price, and succeeded. I closed my eyes and imagined that moment — when we’ll live here in peace. And I understood immediately that I have no choice but to fight for that future. The only future worth fighting for. Even if it means more political arrests to come.

Because the truth is that two peoples live here, and neither is going anywhere. Young, old, babies and the elderly. Israelis and Palestinians, Jews and Arabs. We can keep going in this cycle of bloodshed, or we can choose another path — ending the war, a political solution, building a different future, one that recognises both sides’ connection to this homeland.

Opposing the war is our civic and human duty. Today, Ron Feiner, my friend from school and [comrade] in the struggle, who was arrested last week with me, entered military prison for 20 days for refusing to return to fight in the reserve’s army. All of us have to find our own way, and our own words, to do this with the tools at our disposal, non-violently. It’s not too late to save ourselves. We can’t be silent, and we don’t have the privilege to give up.

Translation notes:

1. Tsav 9 (צו 9), or Order 9 in English, is a right-wing organisation that actively opposes the delivery of humanitarian aid to the Gaza Strip. Its actions have included blocking aid shipments and sabotaging the aid itself. The group has been designated by the United States as a “violent extremist” organisation.