The Revolutionary Communist Group – for an anti-imperialist movement in Britain

‘Graduating through the school of revolution’: interview with Palestinian fighter Asim Ka’abi

Asim Ka'abi (left) with his partner Sumoud Saadat on the day of his release

After 18 years’ imprisoned by the Zionist regime, socialist political prisoner Asim Ka’abi was released on 7 May 2021 to a hero’s welcome in Balata refugee camp in the occupied West Bank. Comrade Asim comes from a refugee family from Yafa, and supported the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP) from a young age. Locked up for his involvement as a youth in the second Palestinian intifada in April 2003, Asim lost both his father and mother while inside, and dealt with the grind of colonial imprisonment through involvement in organised resistance, political education and culture. He spoke to FRFI about his experiences.

FRFI: Can you summarise your period of imprisonment?

Asim Ka’abi: My experience is not unique: all Palestinians imprisoned for long periods are moved from prison to prison. I passed through all of the prisons of the Zionist occupation except Ofer. Some prisons I was held in more than once. This is just part of the tortuous process. They move prisoners around precisely to prevent them gaining any stability. There is no Palestinian political prisoner who spends a length of time in prison and stays in one place.

The prison at Gilboa has a particularly bad reputation and it is no wonder Palestinians fight to escape. Did you find some Israeli prisons tougher than others?

Of course some prisons are more difficult. Among the roughest was Hadarim, where I spent four years. They put two to three inmates to a room and keep you isolated from other prisoners, sometimes alone. This is a system of punishment for those they want to target, with very little contact with other human beings. You didn’t get to meet new prisoners and find out news from them and it would be a prolonged period before you meet anyone else. So we are imprisoned in our own country and then separated on the inside. The room was tiny, and with three to a cell it becomes really tough.

Can you describe how prisoners organise themselves politically on the inside?

In every prison in the system, we live together under the rule of our own organisations. There is no prisoner who doesn’t join a party or group, whether it’s PFLP, Fatah, Hamas; the important thing is to be organised. Every faction produces its own posters around the prison, to guide prisoner organisation, demands and rules on the inside.

In each cell holding eight to ten prisoners, we elect a leader – regardless of our own organisation, we know we need to work together. Every prisoner has a different personality, comes from a different environment, way of thinking, level of education. Imagine, for example, trying to decide on a TV channel to watch. So we administrate for every issue, small or big, inside or outside the cell. The whole prison is organised under one system, which we commit ourselves to, and which is based on an essential democracy to look after the interests of all of us. If we’re all committed to the way we organise ourselves, it combats problems or conflicts between prisoners. It’s a system for all.

All organisations within the system have representatives on a National Committee. The leaders of the main four or five organisations maintain contact and gather to make decisions on resistance. If we decide to campaign by organising a hunger strike, for example, it’s our duty to be involved and follow the decisions we take democratically together. The prisoners are committed to following through the positions of the National Committee.

When we pass through the Zionist jails, prisoners refer to it as graduating through the school of revolution. Many of us enter prison without education or cultural understanding, but our way of organising gives us a new political culture to understand the world around us. Some prisoners come in very young, for instance, or feel like they are lost upon being arrested, but they quickly learn about the legal regime and how to think politically.’

Do organisations like the PFLP actively recruit? What role does political education take?

Inside the prison, our agreements with other parties mean groups cannot actively recruit, and especially not those attached to other organisations. As soon as a prisoner enters the jail, they decide which group they want to be a part of. Every organisation has its own cultural programme on the inside, organises educational courses. On Prisoners Day (Yowm al-Asir), for instance, we get together en masse, with no prisoner left alone – we don’t allow this important day to be wasted. It’s an opportunity to share information, but we don’t want clashes between groups – this is why we have agreements against direct recruitment. These are some of the basic principles that all prisoners live by.

How is the situation for PFLP leader Ahmed Sa’adat (Abu Ghassan) and longer-serving political prisoners?

Today there are Palestinian political prisoners who have been inside for over 40 years in jail. Karim Younis, for example, has been imprisoned for 39 years, and now his mother is in hospital between life and death. Others who were released after decades in jail during the prisoner swap for [Zionist soldier] Gilad Shalit were re-arrested and have been in prison for the last ten years. They should not be in prison, but Israelis do not respect any agreements.

International law is against what the Zionists do, but they use Administrative Detention as a weapon against Palestinians – anyone can be imprisoned, because they are not told why they are held, or what they have been charged with. I saw prisoners held for two, three years without charge, then released for a couple of months, and imprisoned again. Just for being Palestinian. It goes on for years. This is what drives people to hunger strike for their freedom. But we need a bigger confrontation to really challenge this system.

Abu Ghassan has spent many years in prison and is now in Ramon. To be honest, all Palestinian political prisoners live on hope, and sleep with the thought that they could be released the next day. Prisoners like Karim Younis, Maher Younis, Walid Daqqa and Na’il Bargouthi, who have been held for four decades, still live with this hope. There is no Palestinian political prisoner without hope. This is part of the resistance of sumud (steadfastness) of Palestinian political prisoners, the knowledge that there is someone behind me. We have a motto: ‘prison is not forever’. We all fight in the hope that our day of freedom is around the corner.’

Fight Racism! Fight Imperialism! No 284, October/November 2021

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