Nathan Thrall’s timely release of his latest nonfiction book “A Day in the Life of Abed Salama: Anatomy of a Jerusalem Tragedy,” is a close look at everyday devastation for Palestinians through the lens of a real life school bus crash. In 2012, seven young students aged between four and five years old, along with a teacher, were killed in a horrific accident, which devastated families in the process. Thrall attempts to humanise the victims all while showcasing the systemic failures that led to such an incident. With the backdrop of the current war, it’s easy to judge events within a vacuum, however, Thrall urges readers to see the bigger picture with this book.

While it would be misleading to say this is set over an entire day, the events leading up to it are seen to be almost inevitable. Thrall is the former Director of the Arab-Israeli Project at the International Crisis Group, where he covered Israel, the West Bank, Gaza, and Israel’s relations with its neighbours from 2010 to 2020. He regularly writes about matters related to Israel and lives in Jerusalem himself. This project began as an article for the New York Review of Books, but he has subsequently spent many hours speaking to the families affected by this disaster.

Who is Nathan Thrall?

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Nathan Thrall

Thrall is the acclaimed author of “The Only Language They Understand: Forcing Compromise in Israel and Palestine.”

His extensive body of work includes essays, reviews, and reported features that have graced the pages of prestigious publications such as the New York Times Magazine, the Guardian, the London Review of Books, and the New York Review of Books. His writings have received international recognition and have been translated into over a dozen languages, underscoring the global impact of his insights.

Thrall has dedicated a decade of his career to the International Crisis Group, where he held the position of Director of the Arab-Israeli Project. This role allowed him to delve deeply into the complex dynamics of the Israel-Palestine conflict, providing valuable insights into the region’s intricate challenges and potential solutions.

In addition to his prolific writing career and work with the International Crisis Group, he is an educator, having taught at Bard College. Born in California, he now resides in Jerusalem, where his close proximity to the heart of the conflict continues to inform and shape his work.

The background and transformation of Anata

The book explores the lives of Abed and his community in Anata, a village altered by Israel’s policies and actions over the years. Thrall vividly portrays the changing landscape, both physically and socially, as Anata becomes part of an expanding Jerusalem. “Anata began to change after Israel conquered it and the rest of the West Bank in the 1967 war,” as Thrall illustrates. “Until that point, the area had been governed by Jordan.” However, following the occupation, Israel implemented a series of policies that radically converted the demography and geography of the occupied territories, with the explicit aim of “Judaizing them.”

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Thrall describes how the government gradually seized Palestinian land, issued numerous demolition orders, annexed parts of Anata to Jerusalem, constructed a separation wall encircling the urban centre, and confiscated the remaining land to establish settlements, settler outposts, a military base, and a divided highway. This highway, Thrall notes, was split by yet another wall, deliberately obstructing the settlers’ view of Palestinian traffic. Moreover, the natural pool and spring that once belonged to Anata were repurposed into an Israeli nature reserve, accessible to Anatot settlers but requiring admission fees from Anata’s residents. This marked disparity in access and freedom of movement compelled Palestinians to navigate a perilous detour on a hazardous dirt road simply to reach the spring, as they were denied entry into the settlement without a permit.”

“Year by year, Palestinians from Anata found themselves absorbed into the urban fabric of an expanding Jerusalem, which had swallowed up the Old City and the rest of East Jerusalem, as well as the lands of more than two dozen outlying villages, all annexed by Israel,” describing the intense transformation of the region. They navigated Israel’s “multilane highways, bought food at its supermarket chains, and used Hebrew at its office towers, malls, and cinemas,” underscoring the paradoxical coexistence of two worlds. Thrall captures the complexities of daily life in this evolving landscape, where even in the face of change, “enemies put on a show of great politeness toward one another, life outcomes were powerfully shaped by household reputation—a wayward daughter could ruin the marriage prospects of all her sisters—and the entire drama was shrouded in ritual and courteous speech.”

The First Intifada: a period of profound sacrifice

The First Intifada, which erupted in 1987, is a pivotal moment in the story, revealing the profound sacrifices and hardships endured by Palestinians during their struggle for justice. Thrall goes on to depict the grim realities faced by Palestinians during this tumultuous period, stating, “Towns were besieged, curfews imposed, provisions depleted, jobs lost, schools closed, children jailed, husbands tortured, fathers killed, and sons maimed—so many bones were broken that the soldiers’ clubs would snap.” His account brings to light the immense toll exacted during the Intifada, concluding that, “More than 1,100 Palestinians were killed by Israeli soldiers or civilians during the six years of the uprising. Another 130,000 were wounded and some 120,000 were jailed. In those years, Israel had the largest per capita prison population in the world.”

The author navigates the emotional landscape of these times, offering a glimpse into the collective resilience of the Palestinian people, something that we continue to see reflected everyday. It also puts the current death toll into stark perspective, as more than 18,000 have reportedly been killed in Gaza at the time of writing.

Is A Day in the Life of Abed Salama true?

Unfortunately, “A Day in the Life of Abed Salama” is true. The background to the tragic bus crash that would later devastate Abed’s community was a culmination of numerous challenges and systemic failures. The Israeli military’s shutdown of Palestinian universities, as Thrall highlights, deprived young Palestinians like Abed of educational opportunities and a path to a better future. He couldn’t pursue a degree due to these restrictions, reflecting the broader limitations imposed on Palestinians.

Upon Abed’s release from prison, he was issued a green ID card marking him as a former prisoner, a label that subjected him to continued hardships even after serving his sentence. As Thrall notes, this green ID became a means of constraint, leading to Abed’s frequent rejection at checkpoints, where he sometimes faced rough treatment. This situation reflects the ongoing difficulties faced by many Palestinians after their release from detention.

Amid these struggles, just seven weeks before the accident, Israel’s High Court of Justice also ruled on the legality of settler quarries in the West Bank, a decision that raised questions about the exploitation of occupied territory’s natural resources. The court’s ruling allowed for the continuation of resource extraction, highlighting the legal complexities surrounding the occupation and its implications.

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Meanwhile, conditions in UNRWA schools serving Shuafat Camp were far from ideal, with some teenagers turning to drugs as a way to cope. Thrall describes the popularity of substances like “Nice,” which included harmful chemicals, leading to a dangerous escalation towards heroin. This paints a bleak picture of the challenges faced by young people in the camp, exacerbated by limited access to quality education and opportunities.

Against this scenery, in February 2012, this tragic accident unfolded when a kindergarten class from the private school Nour al-Houda hired an inadequately registered bus to take them to a play area in Kufr Aqab. The bus journey occurred on neglected and congested roads, lacking proper lighting, police presence, or barriers, setting the stage for the devastating crash that would later occur. This accident serves as an uncomfortable example of the risks and dangers faced by Palestinian communities due to inadequate infrastructure and regulatory oversight.

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One significant aspect of this horrific crash, as pointed out by Thrall, was the fact that it took more than 30 minutes for Israeli forces to arrive, despite the knowledge that “Everyone knew how quickly Israeli forces would descend on a West Bank road the moment a kid started throwing stones.”

The subsequent investigation and trial highlight the systemic failures and the lack of accountability in the Israeli system. The trial and police investigation, as highlighted in the book, narrowly focused on the actions of the driver, ignoring the broader causes of the accident, the fatalities, and the lamentably delayed emergency response. This myopic approach reveals a troubling aspect of the incident.

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As some Israeli ambulances en route from Jerusalem were delayed by the army, waiting for a gate to open in the separation wall at the Qalandia checkpoint, and emergency services from West Bank settlements or through the Hizma checkpoint were also delayed due to dispatchers sending them to the wrong place, it becomes clear that the response system was far from efficient. Furthermore, the practice of referring to areas of the West Bank by the names of the nearest settlement, due to a lack of familiarity with Palestinian roads and villages, illustrates the disconnect.

In the aftermath of this tragedy, there was no suggestion that Israel’s fund for accident victims should compensate the families of green ID holders, whose children were killed on a road controlled by Israel and patrolled by its police. This omission is indicative of a system that failed to acknowledge the inherent inequalities. There was also a glaring absence of discussion about the inadequacy of a single, poorly maintained artery for north-south transit of Palestinians in the greater Jerusalem–Ramallah area, or the fact that checkpoints were strategically employed to control Palestinian movement and alleviate settler traffic during rush hours.

Disturbing celebrations and unaccounted negligence

Furthermore, the oversight of the absence of emergency services on one side of the separation wall, which inevitably contributed to the tragedy, raises important questions about the prioritisation of resources. Lastly, no one confronted the issue that the Palestinians in the area were neglected because the Jewish state aimed to reduce their presence in greater Jerusalem, a place “coveted by Israel.” These acts of negligence and indifference went unaccounted for, shedding light on a deeply entrenched system of injustice and inequality.

Thrall also addresses the disturbing celebration of the tragedy by some Israelis, forcing readers to confront uncomfortable truths about the deep divisions and hatred that exist in the region. A month after the tragic school bus accident, a television crew arrived at Abed’s doorstep, preparing to shoot a feature for Channel 10, one of Israel’s prominent stations, set to air on a Saturday night in late March. The segment bore the chilling title, “An Arab Kid Died, Ha Ha Ha Ha.” The reporter behind this grim exploration was Arik Weiss, known for his left-wing views, so much so that certain right-wing politicians refused to share the screen with him.

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However, the focus of the story wasn’t solely on the accident itself but on the disturbing reactions of some young Israelis who had callously celebrated the death of Palestinian kindergartners. Weiss was deeply troubled by the deluge of heartless Facebook posts and online comments, such as: “Hahahaha 10 dead hahahaha, good morning,” and “It’s just a bus full of Palestinians. No big deal. Too bad more didn’t die,” or even, “Great! Fewer terrorists!!!!” and “Joyous news to start the morning.” In response, the journalist’s sombre voiceover echoed, “It doesn’t matter if you’re on the left or the right. The fact that someone’s celebrating people’s death requires us to stop for a moment and ask, How the hell did we get here?”

Throughout “A Day in the Life of Abed Salama,” Thrall challenges readers to see beyond the surface of events and understand the larger context in which they occur. He questions how a situation could deteriorate to the point where such a tragedy becomes almost inevitable. The book is a powerful call for empathy and understanding in a conflict-ridden region. It sheds light on the everyday struggles and tragedies faced by Palestinians while providing a nuanced analysis of the systemic failures that perpetuate this cycle of suffering.