What kind of army in the world does this?
On the seventh month of his life — the very day of his birth anniversary — a Palestinian infant named Sam Fahd Abu Haikal was killed when Israeli soldiers opened fire on his family's vehicle near Hebron in the occupied West Bank. His mother lies in critical condition, his father carries a wound through his hand, and a grandmother carries the memory of what she witnessed. The killing joins a long and unresolved ledger of civilian deaths in a territory where military operations have intensified and accountability remains, by documented measure, nearly absent.
- A single bullet passed through a windshield, a father's hand, and into the back seat where a seven-month-old and his mother sat — killing the child on the exact day he completed his seventh month of life.
- The Israeli military initially described the vehicle as a threat accelerating toward soldiers, but its own inquiry concluded the occupants were uninvolved civilians — a gap between lethal action and established fact that has become a recurring pattern.
- The baby's grandmother, who was present in the car, described the scene as horrific and asked aloud what army in the world does this — a question that echoed through the funeral held the following noon, the small body wrapped in the Palestinian flag.
- The British Consulate called for an immediate and transparent investigation, but human rights data shows soldiers have been indicted in fewer than one percent of complaints filed over nearly a decade, leaving accountability as aspiration rather than expectation.
- The killing arrives inside a widening arc of violence: over 1,000 Palestinians killed in the West Bank since October 2023, including at least 240 children, and on the same day as the funeral, eight more people were wounded in settler attacks nearby.
On the evening of June 5th, a seven-month-old boy named Sam Fahd Abu Haikal was shot and killed when Israeli soldiers opened fire on his family's car in the Tel Rumeida area south of Hebron. It was, precisely, the day he turned seven months old. His father — a lecturer at Bethlehem University — was driving the family from Bethlehem to visit relatives when the shooting began.
A single bullet pierced the windshield, passed through the father's hand, and struck both the mother and infant in the back seat. The baby died from his wounds. His mother remains in critical condition, with shrapnel lodged near her heart. The baby's grandmother, also in the car, described stopping when she saw soldiers ahead. She first thought the shots were warnings. "The scene was horrific," she said afterward. "What kind of army in the world does this?"
The Israeli military said soldiers fired at a vehicle they perceived as accelerating toward them, and that an initial inquiry found the occupants were uninvolved civilians. The case remains under review. The funeral was held the following noon at a nearby mosque, the infant's body wrapped in the Palestinian flag. His father wept at the ambulance, embracing the child's half-brother.
The British Consulate expressed shock and called for a transparent investigation. But the structural reality is stark: according to the Israeli human rights organization Yesh Din, soldiers accused of harming Palestinians have been indicted in fewer than one percent of cases filed between 2016 and 2024. The killing is not isolated — more than 1,000 Palestinians have died in the West Bank since October 2023, including at least 240 children, and on the same day as Sam's funeral, eight more people were wounded in settler attacks near Nablus.
On Friday evening, June 5th, a seven-month-old boy named Sam Fahd Abu Haikal was killed when Israeli soldiers opened fire on his family's car in the Tel Rumeida area south of Hebron City, in the occupied West Bank. The child had turned exactly seven months old that day. His parents were in the vehicle—his father Fahd Abu Haikal, a lecturer at Bethlehem University, and his mother. They were driving from Bethlehem to visit relatives in Hebron when the shooting began.
According to the Palestinian news agency WAFA and accounts from the family, a single bullet pierced the car's windshield, passed through the father's hand, and then struck both the mother and the infant in the back seat. The father told reporters at Al-Ahly Hospital in Hebron that another bullet struck the hood. The baby was critically wounded in the face by the same round that injured his mother. He died from his injuries. His father sustained a gunshot wound to the hand. His mother remains in critical condition; doctors say shrapnel lodged near her heart poses an ongoing threat.
The baby's grandmother, Feryal Abu Heikal, was also in the car. She described stopping when she saw Israeli military vehicles and soldiers ahead near a checkpoint. When the forces began firing, she initially believed they were warning shots. "The scene was horrific to see a 7-month-old baby with a smashed face," she said later. "What kind of army in the world does this? What happened to my grandson can't be easily forgotten."
The Israeli military offered a different account. Soldiers, it said, fired at a vehicle they perceived as accelerating toward them in the Hebron area. The military stated that soldiers responded with single shots, wounding three Palestinians who were evacuated for treatment. An initial inquiry concluded that those wounded were uninvolved civilians, and the case remains under review.
The funeral took place at noon on Saturday at a nearby mosque. The small body was wrapped in the Palestinian flag as mourners lined up for prayers. At the ambulance, the father was seen weeping and embracing the infant's half-brother. The British Consulate in Jerusalem responded with a statement saying it was "shocked and saddened" by the killing, calling for an immediate and transparent investigation and accountability.
This incident occurs within a broader pattern of escalating military operations in the West Bank. Since the October 7, 2023 Hamas attack on Israel—which killed approximately 1,200 people and took 251 hostages—Israeli forces have intensified their presence and operations across the territory. The Gaza Health Ministry reports that Israel's subsequent military campaign has killed more than 72,900 Palestinians. The United Nations documented that more than 1,000 Palestinians have been killed in the West Bank and east Jerusalem since the war began, including at least 240 children.
A critical question hanging over such incidents is accountability. According to Yesh Din, an Israeli human rights organization, soldiers accused of harming Palestinians have been indicted in fewer than 1 percent of cases—based on 2,427 complaints alleging wrongdoing between 2016 and 2024. The rarity of prosecution raises persistent concerns about whether investigations into civilian deaths lead to meaningful consequences. On the same Saturday as Sam Fahd Abu Haikal's funeral, the Palestinian Red Crescent reported that eight people were wounded in settler attacks on the town of Huwara near Nablus, some from tear gas and rubber-coated metal bullets. In March of this year, Israeli soldiers fired on another family car in the northern West Bank, killing four people including two children.
Citas Notables
The scene was horrific to see a 7-month-old baby with a smashed face. What kind of army in the world does this?— Feryal Abu Heikal, the baby's grandmother
An initial inquiry found that the wounded were uninvolved civilians and the situation is under review.— Israeli military statement
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does the military's account matter if the family's story is so clear?
Because it shapes whether this is treated as a tragic mistake or a pattern. The military says they perceived a threat. The family says they stopped when they saw soldiers. Those two versions determine what happens next—if anything.
The grandmother's detail about thinking they were warning shots—what does that tell us?
It tells us the family wasn't fleeing or resisting. They were trying to comply with what they thought was happening. They stopped. They waited. And they were still fired upon.
The father is a university lecturer. Does his profession change the story?
It shouldn't, but it does in how people receive it. It makes him legible as a person with a life, a job, a place in the world. But a baby needs no credentials to matter.
Why mention that the baby turned seven months old that exact day?
Because it's the kind of detail that stays with you. The family had just marked his birthday. Hours later, they were burying him. It's not manipulation—it's the actual shape of what happened.
The one percent prosecution rate—is that the real story here?
It's the story underneath. Individual incidents are tragic. But when almost no one is held accountable across thousands of complaints, the incident becomes part of a system. That's what people need to understand.