If the security camera footage of Israeli soldiers killing a Palestinian man who charged at them in Jericho two weeks ago is anything to go by, it can safely be said that the military has gained no insight from the controversial Elor Azaria incident.
Azaria is currently serving an 18-month sentence for killing an immobilized terrorist in Hebron in 2016 after a public and polarizing trial that sparked a nation-wide reassessment of the Israel Defense Forces' ethics and rules of engagement.
In the video footage of the Jericho incident, recently distributed by the left-wing human rights group B'Tselem, a Palestinian is seen running down an alley holding a pole with a wheel-like object attached to the end of it. He demonstrates intent to attack a group of soldiers situated further down the alley.
A soldier on the side of the alley shoots him from point blank range, causing him to collapse on the ground. This is where the incident should have ended.
But then, something very disturbing happens, and we must not take it lightly: A group of Israeli combat soldiers emerges from behind the shooter and pounces on the prone Palestinian. They kick him in the head, in the ribs, in the groin, in the back and in the legs, while he tries to resist.
After they finish taking their frustration out on him, they drag him beyond the alley wall and shine a flashlight in his face. This is apparently the first time they actually see his face. This is their first meeting.
Then, 25 minutes later, one soldier grabs the Palestinian's arms and two others grab his legs and they shove him into a jeep that arrives at the scene.
This is how Yassin Omar al-Saradih died.
This footage provides a glimpse into the routine actions of Israeli soldiers in the Palestinian territories, like actors in a silent film. The footage reflects what has always been obvious to everyone: It's nighttime in a hostile environment, there is a sense of existential threat, and all the warnings and anxieties suddenly materialize – a Palestinian coming to kill.
The soldiers' violent response, overpowering someone who no longer posed a threat, is very serious. More than anything else, this teaches us that the Elor Azaria incident was not studied – and if it was studied, the lesson has not been learned. Azaria and the Jericho soldiers were unaware that their actions were being documented and that is why the footage reflects the full, terrible force of the reality.
I look at the images of violence and wonder what it is about the education that children receive in school, which forbids violence, fails to carry over to the military. These are soldiers who only completed high school several months prior, brutally kicking a helpless man. Is it the handful of months of military training that bring these young soldiers to the edge, and from there to clearly violating the law? Or is the impossible reality that they are thrown into in their routine policing missions? Or perhaps it is time to admit that there is no such thing as enlightened occupation? That it is impossible to rule over millions of people without engaging in violence against them? Is it possible to occupy and maintain a clear conscience and morals? These are questions that Israel's government and military commanders should be asking themselves.
A senior officer in the Israel Defense Forces Education Corps recently claimed in an interview that Israeli soldiers are regularly briefed on the Azaria case and learn it well. Unfortunately, reality proves otherwise. If this is what Israeli soldiers understand from the briefing, Azaria's attorneys should now demand his immediate release, arguing justly that his punishment was cruel and unusual and his crime selectively enforced. Crimes such as those he was convicted of are apparently something soldiers routinely commit in the occupied territories. They convicted Azaria, but those who dispatch the soldiers to the territories in the first place are immune from trial and punishment, just as we are as a society, as parents and as educators. We, too, bear a responsibility for this reality as long as we remain silent.
