Revising the footage of the attack on our dear colleagues and friends Steve and Ali:
The strike was carried out by an american made GBU-38, carrying a MK-82 500 pounds warhead with 200 pounds of explosives and a 300 pounds of forged steel warhead that was made in purpose to be transformed to thousands of shrapnels upon impact.
What save both of them was a combination of good luck, fast reaction from Steve as an experienced war reporter wearing body armor (should have been wearing his helmet), and the fact that the bomb missed the concrete by some 50 cm and went inside the previous hole and exploded under the bridge, which saved the journalists from the shrapnels and the direct shock wave.
“It is clear there is an intent to destroy the Palestinians in Gaza through acts that meet the criteria set forth in the Genocide Convention.”
UN Independent International Commission of Inquiry's report shows #Israel has committed #genocide in #Gaza.
https://t.co/UGjepPwmwo
❗️BREAKING❗️Rescuers killed in line of duty.
Scenes like this unfold every moment in Gaza, often unseen, largely undocumented. I beg STATES: how much more must be witnessed before you act to stop this carnage?
🔴Break the blockade
🔴Impose an Arms Embargo
🔴Impose Sanctions.
🚨 Breaking:
The #HindRajabFoundation files complaint against Lt. Colonel Beni Aharon, responsible for the murder of Hind Rajab.
Today should’ve been Hind's 7th birthday. After a year of research, we’ve identified the commander, the brigade and the battalion who killed her.
More info ⬇️
https://t.co/BquTBlZiRT
In 2010, Aaron Swartz downloaded 70GBs of articles from JSTOR. He faced $1 million fine and 35 years in jail. He took his life in 2013.
Meta illegaly downloaded 80+ terabytes of books from LibGen, Anna's Archive, and Z-library to train their AI models without any punishment.
Hamas fails to correctly identify one body. Israel dumps 100s of unidentified bodies in bags onto the street. Western media treats Palestinians like animals.
A true story from Gaza, today
In the Queue
My phone rang with a message from a humanitarian organization inviting me to collect a hygiene package. I took it seriously and headed to the given address, only to find myself in front of two parallel lines—one for men and another for women—stretching like lines of pain in an endless war painting.
I stood in the queue, refusing to seek a connection to hasten my turn. As I waited, I started talking to the man in front of me. He was in his fifties, his back bent as if the years of hardship had piled upon him. I asked him, “Why don’t one of your sons stand in your place?” He looked at me with eyes drowned in ash and said in a trembling voice, “My sons? They are there, under the rubble of our home. All I have left is a little girl, whom I left with her aunt until I return…”
I hadn’t yet processed the weight of his words when I was startled by the sobs of the man behind me. I turned to him and saw him muffling his cries between his trembling hands. I asked what was wrong, and he lifted his face, etched with sorrow, and said, “They stormed our house, burned it, and took my son to an unknown place… I don’t know if he is in a prison or beneath the earth.”
To my left, a woman was whispering to her companion, her voice broken as if recounting a dream she had yet to grasp was a nightmare. She said, “My grandson went out to look for a kilo of flour. He reached Nabulsi Roundabout… and when the tanks returned, nothing was left of him but a stain on the asphalt. We couldn’t recognize his features.”
At that moment, another woman sighed, lifted her head heavy with grief, and said in a voice that sounded like a last breath, “As for me… I found my mother in the Tabieen School massacre. But she was no longer my mother… She was a heap of flesh that civil defense workers carried to the scale and told me: ‘This is your mother’s weight. You can bury her now.’”
I then realized that the queue wasn’t just about waiting… It was a corridor of sorrows, where every step led to a more painful story. My turn was near, but I stepped out, my eyes brimming with tears. I could no longer bear to hear more, nor did I have any desire to receive anything… except silence.
Football activism has taken over the stadiums.
🧵🇵🇸 Here is a thread of all fan bases calling for solidarity with Palestine and the suspension of Israel from the beautiful game:
Leading the way — Celtic’s Green Brigade vs Bayern Munich
Israel shot and killed an 8-months-pregnant woman today in the Nour Shams refugee camp in the West Bank. Israeli soldiers stopped any medical assistance from reaching them, so both she and the baby inside her died.
Her name was Sundus Shalabi.
إيتمار بن غفير:
"فتح ممر نتساريم هذا الصباح وإعادة عشرات الآلاف من سكان غزة إلى شمال القطاع هو انتصار واضح لحماس، ويعد جزءًا مهينًا آخر من صفقة غير مسؤولة، هذه ليست ملامح "نصر مطلق" بل هذا "استسلام مطلق" - جنود الجيش الإسرائيلي لم يقدموا أرواحهم في القطاع لتكون هذه هي النتيجة "
هذا المشهد في الاسفل لبن غفير …
I’m free! I wrote this on the plane and I’m posting it just after landing at Istanbul. On Monday evening I was brought to Zurich airport in handcuffs, in a small metal cage inside a windowless prison van and led all the way to the plane by police. This is after three days and two nights in a Swiss prison cut off from communication with the outside world, in a cell 24 hours a day with one cell mate, not even permitted to contact my family. On Saturday in a police interview in the presence of my lawyer they accused me of “offending against Swiss law” without ever telling me what crime I had committed in Switzerland or listing any charges. As far as I know I have not been charged with any crime whatsoever and I was held in “administrative detention.” On Sunday morning, they took me from my cell for questioning by Swiss defense ministry intelligence agents without the presence of my lawyer, and they again refused to allow me to contact her or my family. I refused to talk to them without my lawyer and told them take me back to my cell. During my imprisonment I refused every meal and every cup of coffee or tea they offered me except the last meal, after I knew I would be going home. I accepted only water, which is the right of every human being. All of this was after I was abducted off the street around 1:30pm on Saturday while on my way to the Palestine teach-in by undercover agents, handcuffed, forced into an unmarked car and sped straight to the prison. My “crime”? Being a journalist who speaks up for Palestine and against Israel’s genocide and settler-colonial savagery and those who aid and abet it. I came to Switzerland at the invitation of Swiss citizens to talk about justice for Palestine, to talk about accountability for a genocide in which Switzerland too is complicit. But while I was hauled off to prison like a dangerous criminal before I even had a chance to say a word, the Israeli president Isaac Herzog, who declared at the start of the genocide that there are no civilians in Gaza, no innocents, received a red carpet welcome in Davos, a carpet soaked in the blood of the more than 47,000 known victims of the genocide and the thousands more still under the rubble, or who died of deliberately inflicted starvation and denial of medical care. And on this very day Netanyahu freely travels to Poland to make a mockery of the Auschwitz commemoration despite an outstanding ICC arrest warrant. That is the perverse, unjust world we live in. This ordeal lasted three days but that taste of prison was more than enough to leave me in even greater awe of the Palestinian heroes who endure months and years in the prisons of the genocidal oppressor. More than ever I know that the debt we owe them is one we can never repay and all of them must be free and they must remain our focus. The police gave me my phone back only at the gate of the plane so I’m only seeing now the extent of the overwhelming support and solidarity from all over the world. I’m deeply grateful to each and every person who stood up for me. I’m especially grateful to my lawyer Dina Raewel and her team, to our friends in Zurich who I learned afterwards demonstrated outside the prison, to my family and my colleagues at EI and so many others. I honestly had no idea what was happening outside that concrete room! Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I want to tell the whole story of what happened, perhaps in an @intifada livestream in the next day or two, because I think it’s important for people to know the depths to which their Western so-called “democracies” have sunk in the abject service of genocidal Zionism. Right now I’m glad to be on my way home. I’m looking forward to hugging my mom and dad, taking a shower and sleeping in my own bed. Journalism is not a crime! Speaking out for Palestine is not a crime! Standing against racist genocidal Zionism is not a crime! Say it with me:
From the River to the Sea Palestine Will Be Free! ❤️🇵🇸✌️