For 24 years, Intisar clung to a promise from her son, Habis Bayyoud: “My freedom will be the day I can hug you outside these walls.” This heartbreaking hope seemed within reach in October when Habis was released from an Israeli prison as part of a ceasefire and prisoner-swap deal with Hamas. However, the joy quickly turned to anguish as Israel imposed travel bans, preventing Intisar and the rest of her family from reuniting with Habis, now exiled in Egypt. This story highlights a disturbing pattern of collective punishment impacting Palestinian families following prisoner releases.
The Bitter Taste of Freedom: Palestinian Families Separated After Release
Intisar, 78, experienced a surge of relief when she saw Habis’s name on the release list. Living in the West Bank village of al-Mazra’a al-Gharbiya near Ramallah, she dared to believe the decades of longing were finally over. Even the news that Habis would be deported to Egypt, rather than allowed to return home directly, couldn’t completely extinguish her optimism. “It doesn’t matter, as long as he’s free,” she told herself. But the reality proved far more cruel. The Israeli military swiftly barred the entire Bayyoud family from leaving the occupied West Bank, leaving Habis alone in a foreign land.
Collective Punishment: A New Wave of Restrictions
“All seven of us siblings, my mother and our children, tried to travel,” explained Jamal Bayyoud, Habis’s brother, to Middle East Eye. “Everyone of us was turned back.” Prior to Habis’s release, the family had never faced such restrictions. Jamal believes this is deliberate. “This is revenge against the prisoners and their families,” he stated, adding with profound sadness, “Imagine spending 24 years in prison, only to find no one from your family allowed to reach you.”
The situation has deeply impacted Jamal’s personal life. He postponed marriage for years, convinced his brother would remain incarcerated. He and Habis’s twin brother had even made a pact to marry on the day of his release. Twenty-four years without seeing his brother has taken a heavy toll. “Whenever he asks my mother, ‘What did you cook today?’ he tears up,” Jamal revealed, illustrating the emotional devastation caused by this separation.
Denied Visits, Broken Promises, and a Cycle of Suffering
The injustice extends beyond the immediate aftermath of release. Jamal recounted how, even during his own repeated arrests, he was denied his legally guaranteed right to visit Habis. “In my last arrest, an Israeli officer offered me one hour with him in exchange for five extra months in prison. I agreed, but they then reneged.” This demonstrates a systemic disregard for basic human rights and a willingness to exploit family connections as a form of coercion.
Now, cut off from his family, Habis finds solace among other recently released prisoners who have also sought refuge in Egypt. His mother sends messages of love and support through them: “Embrace him on my behalf.” While online communication provides a lifeline, it’s a poor substitute for a physical embrace. The family has appealed to human rights organizations, but hopes are dwindling. “This is a political decision,” Jamal insists. “There is no law preventing a freed prisoner from seeing his family. What’s happened to us is a crime.”
A Widespread Problem: Dozens of Families Affected by Travel Bans
The Bayyoud family’s experience is not isolated. According to the Palestinian Prisoners’ Society, dozens of other families are facing similar travel bans imposed by Israel following the mass deportations of released prisoners earlier this year. Israel has deported 383 Palestinian prisoners under the latest deals, but only around 10 percent of their families have been able to reach them, according to Abdullah al-Zaghari, the organization’s spokesperson.
Al-Zaghari explained that the organization has appealed to international bodies to intervene, but “nothing has changed on the ground.” He characterized the travel bans as “a continuation of Israel’s assault on prisoners,” emphasizing that these measures are punitive and political. Many families had never faced travel restrictions before their sons’ release, further supporting this claim.
Stories of Heartbreak and Unfulfilled Dreams
The case of Basem al-Khandaqji illustrates this point. His mother, imprisoned since 2004 and recently freed, rushed to the Israeli-controlled crossing with her family, only to be stopped. Only Basem’s youngest sister, a Jordanian citizen, was allowed through. “There is no logic in preventing a mother from seeing her son,” his sister Amani lamented. She described her mother’s decades-long dream of this moment, now reduced to a phone screen. Basem’s mother had even prepared akkoub, a traditional dish, year after year, anticipating his return, regardless of the season. She carried news of her cancer recovery with her, a secret she had kept from her son during his imprisonment.
Similarly, Nael al-Barghouthi, the world’s longest-serving political prisoner, was released in January after 45 years in Israeli custody, only to be deported to Egypt and then settle in Turkey alone. His wife, Iman Nafi’, and all their relatives have been barred from leaving the West Bank. She was rejected at the crossing, receiving the standard justification: “security reasons.” Nafi’ believes the motive is clear: to prevent prisoners from reuniting with their families and to exacerbate the pain of exile. “They deny him even one family member beside him in exile,” she said.
A Desperate Search for Connection and a Plea for Justice
The families are clinging to any form of connection they can find. Nafi’ and Barghouthi share daily video calls, attempting to recreate a sense of normalcy. However, the fear for his well-being is constant. The family of 72-year-old Abdel-Rahman Salah, released earlier this year after suffering a brain haemorrhage in prison, faces similar anxieties. Despite appeals to human rights organizations, Israel has denied his family permission to travel and care for him in Egypt, where he requires constant medical supervision.
Despite the overwhelming despair, Nafi’ remains hopeful. “I will petition the courts for his return to Kober, not for my right to travel,” she stated, emphasizing her unwavering commitment to her husband’s right to return home. The stories of these families serve as a stark reminder of the human cost of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and the urgent need for justice and compassion. The ongoing travel bans represent a cruel and unusual punishment, extending the suffering of Palestinian prisoners and their loved ones long after their release from prison. The international community must pressure Israel to lift these restrictions and allow families to reunite, finally fulfilling Habis Bayyoud’s simple, yet profoundly denied, wish: to embrace his mother outside the prison walls.
