I’m not alien to political repression and censorship. I even have lived in Germany for five years and as a Palestinian journalist involved in pro-Palestinian support I experienced repeated harassment from the hands of the German authorities.
My husband, a German citizen and me, an American citizen, we got used to storing for hours, subjected to invasive interrogation about our travels and a radical search of our things without clear justification. But we were shocked after we learned that these tactics, designed to intimidate and stop, were taken by the United States to attack Palestinians in the ongoing genocide.
I at all times knew that citizenship only offered limited protection, especially when an objection was at stake. But deep in my soul I still believed that freedom of speech, the right to talk without fear means something in my country of birth.
I used to be mistaken. The harassment, which we survived on March 24 after arriving in the USA, shattered this illusion. Our Palestinian identity, our political work, our family ties – all this makes us everlasting goals, not only in Germany, but additionally in the USA.
Before leaving, after we were at our gate at the Frankfurt airport, 4 agents turned to me and identified as officers from the US Internal Security Department (DHS). They said they were searching for my husband, who has just stepped aside to purchase water and juice for our sons.
“We just want to make sure your Esta visa is fine,” said certainly one of them.
They made his passport, shifting him and photographing each page, while certainly one of them remained on the phone, providing information. They asked about our visit to Gaza in 2022, after watching the Rafah border stamp.
“Where did you go in gas?” One agent asked.
“Khan Youńis” – answered my husband.
“Where does your family live now?”
“Everything,” he said. “You know, they live in tents at the waist because of the war.”
“What did you do when you were there?”
“He visited the family,” he replied.
It was clear that we were targeted. I even have not seen some other passengers subjected to similar control. This meant that either DHS actively studied passengers before their departure to the US, or – much more disturbing – the German authorities communicated directly with DHS to mark the origin and political activity of “suspicious” travelers.
After arriving at the Newark airport in New Jersey, my husband and I used to be separated and individually questioned, each of us still holds a sleeping child. Men interrogating us didn’t discover; I imagine that they were DHS agents, not border policemen.
First, they asked me about the purpose of my journey and my trip to Gaza. They desired to know who I met in Gaza, why I met them and whether someone I met was related to Hamas. At one point, the officer intentionally became ambiguous and as a substitute of referring to Hamas, he asked if “someone from [my] The family was part of the government in gas. “
At some point, they asked if I experienced violence from Israeli soldiers, to which I replied: “Israeli soldiers were not in Gaza in 2022.”
“Has anyone in your family experienced violence during this war?”
“Yes,” I answered. “Fifty was killed.”
“Were any of them supporters of Hamas?” There was the answer I received.
As if political affiliation could justify burning the family. As if children, older, moms, reduced to the number, needed to be first questioned in terms of loyalty before their death.
They knew that I used to be a journalist, in order that they demanded to know the last article I wrote and where he was published. I told them that it is a song for Mondoweiss about the abduction of Mahmoud Khalil, in which I also warned about the dangers of Trump’s administration policy. It looked as if it would increase their control. They required my e -mail address, my social media accounts and saved my phone number without explanation.
Then they took our phones. When I asked what would occur if I refused, they explained that I had no alternative. If I didn’t comply, my phone would still be received from me, and if my husband didn’t apply, he could be deported.
When they finally returned our electronics, they issued a chilling dark warning to my husband: “You have been here seven times without a problem. Stay away from political activities and everything will be fine.”
Then the legal advisor advised me that he didn’t participate in any demonstrations, even alone during our stay. Our movements, our words and even our silence were observed and every thing might be used against us.
What happened to us was not accidental; It was deliberate. It was purported to scare us and intimidate us. Regardless of whether it’s in Germany, in the United States or elsewhere, the purpose of those tactics is the same: make us feel small, isolated, criminalized and scared. They want us to doubt the value of each word we write, query every protest we attach, swallowed every truth before reaching our mouths. They want us to ignore the people we lost.
Fifty members of our family were murdered in genocide on US support in Gaza. Fifty souls, each with their very own dreams, laughter and love, skewed under the roar of bombs and silence of the world. The history of our family isn’t any different from hundreds of others – stories that disappear from headers, but live without end in the hearts of survivors.
They expect that we are going to quietly wear this unknown weight, bow our heads and proceed our lives, as if our world has not been torn. But we do not bow.
And that is why they’re afraid of us; They are afraid of people that refuse to vanish. Palestinians who dare to talk, organize, simply testify, are marked as dangerous.
I used to be warned that talking about our experience at the airport would make the next meeting even sharper, much more criminal. However, we must remember: nothing can do us, which he can compare with what is finished with the people of Gaza. Our passports are only paper. Our phones are only metal and glass. These are things that may confiscate things that may break. But they can’t take our votes, our memories and our commitment to justice.
When leaving, the officers asked my husband the last query: “What do you think about Hamas? Are they good?”
He replied: “My concern is the fight against the genocide, which took the life and freedom of my family and my people. Anything else I am not interested in the answer.”
This needs to be all our fears. Nothing should distract us from the urgent, undeniable truth: the persons are killed and our duty is to face with them.
