As Palestinian youth are currently sitting the critical set of national exams, “Tawjihi”, or the General Secondary Education Certificate Examination, which marks the final stage of the Palestinian school system and a pre-requisite to entry to university, they face the annual threat at this time: Israeli detention. With an understanding that detention at this specific period is detrimental to the academic and professional future of the youth, Israeli forces continue their arrests of children in education.
Currently, Israel has imprisoned approximately 10,800 Palestinians, 450 of whom are children under the age of 18, and 3,629 are held without trial or charge under the policy of administrative detention. For many families, passing Tawjihi is viewed as a life-altering achievement, often the only opportunity to break cycles of poverty and pursue long-held aspirations amidst a landscape of occupation and economic hardship. As such, any obstruction of this stage does not constitute an isolated violation. Rather, this annual “Tawjihi” detention campaign does not target individuals; it targets a generation, reflecting a systematic attempt to undermine the future of its entirety.
On this basis, numerous Palestinian students, particularly those enrolled in Tawjihi, have been denied their right to education and forcibly removed from their classrooms and homes. Israeli forces [1]’ raids prior to the detention entail the use of excessive force and are both destructive and, in many instances, even lethal. Such detentions occur in a very arbitrary manner and systems, in military courts with an almost absolute conviction rate, even against Palestinian children. Moreover, at this critical time of examination, the detentions were carried out with an explicit intent to bar the students from sitting their exams, as expressed by the Israeli soldiers who raided their homes and detained them. Their objective was clear: to deprive Palestinian youth of their right to education and extinguish any hope of a future shaped by academic or personal advancement, as our testimonies below show. A generation that, despite the occupation and systemic deprivation, dared to dream and work toward a better future. Such arbitrary detentions shatter months of effort and preparation, replacing ambition with trauma and fear.
Israel’s detention of Palestinian students, many of whom are minors, constitutes a grave violation of international law, particularly their rights as children, as well as their right to education, safety, well-being, and due process. Thorough documentation provides that Palestinian children are subjected to physical, sexual, and psychological assault during Israeli detention [2].
Such practices stand in stark violation of international law, notably international humanitarian law, international human rights law, and the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC), to which Israel is bound both as an occupying power and as a Signatory to the CRC. Under international law, in the extremely restrictive conditions where children are detained, they are entitled to prompt access to legal assistance and to be treated in a manner consistent with their age, dignity, and best interests. Israel’s practice of trying Palestinian children in military courts—courts which lack the fundamental guarantees of fair trial rights—stands in direct contravention of these obligations. In addition, the right to education is reaffirmed consistently under international human rights law for every child, which is severely disrupted when students are arbitrarily arrested, detained, and denied access to learning. Such systematic policies amount to grave violations of Israel’s international legal obligations and require the activation of international accountability as mandated under international law.
In targeting students during national exams, Israel aims not only to punish but to dismantle a generation’s pursuit of knowledge, resilience, and self-determination.
Below are testimonies from family members and lawyers of seven Tawjihi students who were arrested just days before their scheduled examinations in Bethlehem:
Testimony 1 – Mother of Detainee (A01):
“This is the third time my son has been detained, all of them administrative detentions, with no charges. He practically grew up in prison. The first time, he was just 15. The second time, he was about to turn 17, and he ended up spending that birthday behind bars. That time, too, he missed his Tawjihi exams.
When he was released, it took his siblings and me everything to rebuild his mental health and convince him to try again. He studied hard for a full year, and we enrolled him in private centers to help him catch up.
Then, just one week before the exam, they came and snatched him away from his books, from my arms. He was terrified. When he saw the soldiers, he opened his books and pleaded, ‘I swear, I’m studying, look!’ But the soldier just laughed in his face and said, ‘Good, we just saved you the trouble of studying.’
I will never forget that moment for the rest of my life.”
Testimony 2 – Mother of Detainee (A02):
“Our village is constantly raided. My son had already been denied his Tawjihi last year due to a previous detention.
This year, just before exams, things got oddly quiet. We thought maybe—just maybe—he’d finally make it this time. We let ourselves hope.
But within a week, they came and arrested him and many of his classmates.
The lawyer told us they were still in interrogation. The prisons are overcrowded. They don’t even have space to process the students in prisons.
We don’t know where he is, what he’s being accused of.”
Testimony 3 – Sister of Detainee (A03):
“Every year, we find ourselves clinging to hope that he’ll finally get to sit the exams. And every year, they take him again. His friends are now in their third year of university. And he still hasn’t even taken his first Tawjihi exam!
His mental health has deteriorated so much. Each time he comes back from prison, it takes months just to bring him back to functioning. He was beaten and humiliated in every arrest.
Getting released doesn’t mean going back to life. It means starting from below zero.
Testimony 4 – Father of Detainee (A04):
“I didn’t even see them take my son. They locked us all in one room and threatened us with police dogs if we moved.
Before they left, one soldier grabbed my son’s books, threw them on the ground, and told my wife:
‘There’s no school anymore. These terrorists need to be re-educated from scratch.’
My son’s only dream was to go to university. He memorized the entire curriculum. But the occupation wouldn’t even let him dream that small.”
Testimony 5 – Lawyer of Detainee (A05), quoting the family:
“My client was arrested five days before the exams. When I visited him during interrogation, he was psychologically devastated.
He told me word for word: ‘They ruined my life again. This time, I was ready, wallah I studied, I worked hard. I was excited.’
There are no charges, just another administrative detention.
Interrogators kept repeating: ‘You think you’ll study? Do you think we’ll let you go to university and join a terrorist party later? No way.’
Just being a student in Tawjihi was a threat in their eyes.”
Testimony 6 – Mother of Detainee (A06):
“My son is a smart student. His grades are always excellent – may God protect him.
Before they took him, he told me, ‘Mama, I want to go study engineering in Germany.’ He wanted to leave, not because he didn’t love his country, but because he was always afraid. Always expecting the soldiers to show up one night and take him again.
We live like this every night, watching the cameras, guessing if tonight will be the night they come for someone else’s child, or ours.
We paid everything we could for special tutoring because he couldn’t attend school regularly after his last detention.
Then, four days before the exam, they raided our house at 3 AM, threw his books on the floor, and took him.
The lawyer said the charges are baseless accusations, no evidence.”
Testimony 7 – Classmate of Detainee (A07):
“Two days before he got arrested, he said, ‘I’m nervous but excited. There’s no way they’ll arrest us now, I mean two days before the exam, right?’
And then they came.
I don’t know where life is taking us anymore. But I swear they’ve left us with no dreams.