Ali Abu Awwad (, born 1972) is a prominent Palestinian peace activist and proponent of nonviolence. He is the founder of Taghyeer (Change), a Palestinian national movement promoting nonviolence to achieve and guarantee a nonviolent solution to the conflict. Awwad's story and efforts have been featured in over twelve documentaries including two award-winning films, Encounter Point and Forbidden Childhood. Furthermore, he was honored by the global nonprofit thinktank Synergos as the Arab World Social Innovator in Palestine for "introducing non-violence, reconciliation, and civic participation to Palestinians as a means of empowering citizens to seek social change and find a more equitable solution to conflict." Awwad is currently finishing his memoir called Painful Hope, an account of his experiences as well as his strategy and vision for the Palestinian future. He lives in Beit Ummar, near Hebron.
Biography
Refugees from Al-Qubayba near Bayt Jibrin, Awwad's family was forced off their land in the 1948 Palestine war (The Nakba) and subsequently settled in Beit Ummar. Awwad, born in Halhoul in Hebron Governorate in the West Bank, was raised in a politically active family and at a young age, following in his mother's footsteps, became a member of Fatah. (His mother was a close associate of Yasser Arafat and was a leader of Fatah in the region).
Prior to becoming a nonviolent activist, he served two prison sentences in Israel. First arrested while studying for secondary exams (after an Israeli helicopter observer reported seeing him throw stones), Awwad refused to pay a 1,500 shekel fine, stating later that, although a stone-thrower, he had not participated that day. He was imprisoned for three months.
Eight months later, he took part in the First Intifada as a teenager, and was subsequently sentenced to 10 years in prison on charges of stone-throwing, throwing Molotov cocktails, and being active in a military cell. According to Awwad, his major crime consisted in refusing to cooperate with his interrogators who wanted information concerning his mother's political activities. He served four years and was released after the signing of the Oslo Accords. Along with 280 released prisoners, he was confined to Jericho for the remainder of his sentence.
Awwad's story of transformation, from former militant to supporter and educator of nonviolence, began during his second stint in prison. In 1993, he coordinated a hunger strike with his mother, also in prison at the time, in order for them to see each other. After 17 days on strike, their confiners permitted the request. The success of the strike was a turning point: "When we succeeded, it transformed my political mind; I realised that another, non-violent, way to achieve my rights existed. I had been blinded by arguments – about blame, victimhood, punishment and justice. But now I realised that showing my humanity in a non-violent way was the best weapon to achieve my rights."
On his release, he was recruited by the PA as a security officer, working for them until he resigned in 1997 out of disagreement and despair.
On 20 October 2000, after the outbreak of the Al Aqsa Intifada, According to Awwad he was shot in the leg by an Israeli settler. He was evacuated to Saudi Arabia, where he received medical treatment. On returning, Awwad learned of his brother Yousef's death. Yousef was an employee of a company that worked with the Jewish National Fund, and, according to his brother, was not involved in militant activities. He was shot in the head by an Israeli soldier at a close distance. (In a further account, Awwad says the shooting arose from talking back to the soldier, a violation of a new regulation of which he was unaware).
Yousef's tragedy marked another turn in Awwad's personal and political life: "My brother wasn't a criminal or a terrorist, he was my best friend, a beautiful man who had two kids who he wanted to raise," he recalls. "I spent sleepless nights with my suffering. I struggled with the concepts of justice and revenge. But taking revenge was not the answer for me. Not because there was a lack of pain or anger but because what I wanted was justice. Yet the only real justice – to have my brother back again – was impossible. When I realised that, I hated myself, my enemy and the whole world. I felt that I was the victim of everyone."