In Memory of Tom Hurndall

“What do I want from this life? What makes you happy is not enough. All the things that satisfy our instincts only satisfy the animal in us. I want to be proud of myself. I want more. I want to look up to myself and when I die, I want to smile because of the things I have done, not cry for the things I haven’t done.”

~ Tom Hurndall


I forgot to post this yesterday, which was the 10th anniversary of Tom Hurndall’s murder.

Tom, a photography student from Manchester, England, was shot in the head by an Israel Defense Forces (IDF) sniper while trying to protect a group of children caught in the line of fire in the town of Rafah in the Gaza Strip. The kids were apparently paralyzed by fear and couldn’t move, so Tom – an International Solidarity Movement (ISM) volunteer who opposed the Israeli occupation of the Palestinian territories – rescued one and was returning for another when the sniper took him out. The peace activist was in a coma for nine months and was just 22 years old at the time of his death.

In this jarring photo, fellow ISM activist Alice Coy cries for help as she holds her hand over Tom’s head wound moments after he was shot:

(AP Photo/Khalil Hamra)

The more I learned about Tom’s story, the more disgusted I became. Taysir Hayb, the award-winning marksman who murdered Tom, initially insisted that Tom was armed and wearing military fatigues. (Photos clearly show he was wearing a bright orange jacket indicating that he was a foreigner.) The British government had to pressure Israel to launch an investigation, and in August of 2005 Sergeant Hayb was sentenced to just eight years in prison for manslaughter and obstruction of justice. Even worse, he was released early, in August of 2010, for good behavior.

I knew the American justice system leaves much to be desired but I didn’t know Israel shares our inability to dispense appropriate punishment in many cases.

I remember having lunch with Anita at Moriarty’s in Lansing shortly after learning about Rachel Corrie’s murder back in 2003. (See “She Fought a Caterpillar and the Caterpillar Won,” March 13, 2011.) I told Anita at the time how much I admire people like Rachel who pay the ultimate price for acting on their principles, putting their money where their mouths are, cramming more meaning into their young lives than people I know who are pushing 80. I would have liked to have been there, I said – on the ground, in the middle of the action, doing something selfless and more meaningful than writing grant proposals and proofreading newsletters. Anita reminded me that we have families and obligations and can’t just pick up and go. She was right, of course, but it was one of the first times I can recall feeling old.

I’m embarrassed to admit I didn’t know about Tom and his murder until recently. Maybe it’s because he was from England. (Rachel was from Washington state.) Maybe it’s because I saw a play, “My Name is Rachel Corrie,” in which Rachel’s journal entries were shared. Maybe it’s because his demise, while violent and tragic, wasn’t immediate. For whatever reason, I only recently started grieving for a young man I never knew who earned more of my respect, posthumously, than lots of people I’ve known for decades.

I look up to you, Tom. I hope you’re resting in peace.

Click here to purchase Defy the Stars: The Life and Death of Tom Hurndall, written by Jocelyn Hurndall, Tom’s mother. Click here for a good review of the book.


Sources: International Solidarity Movement, aworldtowin.net, BBC News.