ARI SHAPIRO, HOST:
This next story takes us to the Israeli-occupied West Bank and the streets of Tel Aviv. But it's not about the current war between Israel and Hamas. It's about a murder exactly one year earlier, in October 2022. What Israeli media reported as an anti-gay hate crime, an NPR investigation found to be more complex. NPR's Daniel Estrin and producer Nuha Musleh report on an unresolved quest for justice.
DANIEL ESTRIN, BYLINE: The murder took place around sunset, according to investigators. Two young men were drinking tea on a balcony in the ancient city of Hebron when one was stabbed and posthumously beheaded. The other was arrested, covered in blood. I met with two Israelis who knew the victim, Maiyan Price Zohar and Ofir Zweigenbom. They had been counselors at an Israeli shelter for gay Palestinians who had run away from home.
MAIYAN PRICE ZOHAR: He had plans, like, for his future, to rent a house with a friend, to be loved. He wanted to live. That's what he wanted.
OFIR ZWEIGENBOM: Yeah, just what we call normal life, I guess.
ESTRIN: He was 24-year-old Ahmad Abu Markhiya. He said in the West Bank his relatives had beaten and pursued him for being gay. He sneaked past walls and checkpoints to enter Israel. And Israel allowed him to stay, just as it has for hundreds of Palestinians facing threats because of their gender or sexuality. His request to be resettled abroad as a refugee was still pending with the United Nations more than a year later when he was found dead in the West Bank.
PRICE ZOHAR: And it was heartbreaking.
ESTRIN: His Israeli counselors never heard from the police and didn't expect Israeli or Palestinian authorities to investigate.
ZWEIGENBOM: It happened in the most complicated place of the Israel-Palestinian conflict. Like...
PRICE ZOHAR: If you're Israel, you can't be there.
ZWEIGENBOM: Yeah. And if you're a Palestinian who want to love whoever you want and to live just like...
PRICE ZOHAR: So you also can't be there.
ZWEIGENBOM: Yeah. So you also can't be there. So it's like, oh, it's a black hole.
ESTRIN: But NPR has found that the Palestinian Authority is indeed prosecuting the murder. Hebron prosecutor Nashat Ayoush flips through the investigation file. NPR producer Nuha Musleh translates.
NASHAT AYOUSH: (Through interpreter) I want to show you a picture of the murderer.
ESTRIN: And his hands, we see a picture of his hands handcuffed, and they're covered in blood and dirt.
AYOUSH: (Speaking Arabic).
ESTRIN: The prosecutor told us that U.N. officials had inquired whether it was an anti-gay hate crime. His answer to them was that the victim's sexuality never came up in the investigation. He said Palestinian law does not criminalize homosexuality and that the justice system is treating this like any other case.
AYOUSH: (Through interpreter) In this case, we have the murder caught red-handed with all the - every - all the proofs to charge him with first-degree murder.
ESTRIN: The defendant has been charged, but court proceedings have stalled amid the Gaza war. There is another justice system in the West Bank. It's the family reconciliation tradition, designed to prevent revenge attacks. In this murder case, the defendant's family had paid the victim's family about $140,000 and agreed to a year-long truce. We visited the defendant's father, Dr. Mohammed Abu Eisheh, at his dental clinic in Hebron.
MOHAMMED ABU EISHEH: (Speaking Arabic).
ESTRIN: He said when the murder took place, everyone in Hebron denounced it and were against his son, Anas. One of the victim's friends told us Anas was gay and had pursued a relationship with the victim but was rejected. Anas' father denied that and said his son committed the crime because of a mental illness. But he said what has helped his son's case the most were the reports that the victim was gay. Homosexuality is taboo in Hebron's traditional society.
ABU EISHEH: (Speaking Arabic).
ESTRIN: He said, "the Israeli media provided us with a free service and broadcast reports that the boy was gay. Within 24 hours, the entire public opinion flipped from being against Anas to being with Anas. The pressure let up on us a lot as a family."
ABU EISHEH: (Laughter).
ESTRIN: He let out a little laugh. We visited the small home of the victim's mother, Awatef Abu Markhiya.
There's simple concrete steps.
His mother has the angular jaw and almond-shaped eyes of her late son.
AWATEF ABU MARKHIYA: (Through interpreter) I am the mother of Ahmad, who was murdered. Ahmad was a very kind soul. He had good intentions towards everybody.
ESTRIN: She cried several times describing a beloved son and repeatedly denied he was gay. She wouldn't say any more on tape. Anything she said could get back to the defendant's family and prejudice the negotiations toward a reconciliation. The yearlong truce between the families ended just as the Gaza war began. Sheikh Walid Tawil, a professional mediator representing the defendant's family, said days into the Gaza war, he asked the victim's family to agree to a reconciliation, and they refused. But he's confident the family will not make any further demands. He held up his phone to show photos of Israeli news articles that identified Abu Markhiya as gay.
WALID TAWIL: (Through interpreter) We in society, in this society, state very clearly that somebody who is a homosexual cannot have rights in society.
ESTRIN: In the eyes of this mediator in Hebron's communal justice system, the scales were balanced. It was sunset when Dr. Abu Eisheh led us across his yard to see where the murder took place.
It's a beautiful view here of the rest of Hebron. Is that a church?
ABU EISHEH: Yeah.
ESTRIN: Russian church?
ABU EISHEH: (Speaking Arabic).
ESTRIN: Hebron's only surviving church, where, according to tradition, the patriarch Abraham pitched his tent near an oak tree, which still stands on the church grounds. Further away is the tomb of Abraham and the cemetery where Abu Markhiya is buried. Why did Abu Markhiya return to this city he had fled? Police records reviewed by NPR show that Abu Markhiya had filed a complaint alleging he was a victim of blackmail. Someone had threatened to release an intimate photo of him, a friend of his told us. We learned that Abu Markhiya returned to Hebron to drop the case and settle his affairs because he was hoping to move abroad with the U.N.'s help.
ABU MARKHIYA: (Speaking Arabic).
ESTRIN: The victim's mother, Awatef, told us she hoped there would be justice for her son. But she said, in the end, justice comes from God. The motive behind his murder is still unknown, but what compelled him to return to the city he had escaped appears to be his hope for a fresh start. Daniel Estrin, NPR News, Hebron. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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