Meet the Irish Rugby Player Who Sailed to Gaza and Ended up in an Israeli Jail

So I’ve got huge admiration and pride [for the Madleen crew] in the current climate, where lots of people can be really negative and cynical about those who try to help others. Especially in a scenario where it’s huge odds against you. Israeli commandos armed to the teeth—would you try that? They did. Hopefully it’s going to add more momentum. It helps everyone take stock and see what they can physically do, rather than sitting back and waiting for governments.

What are your thoughts on the media response to the Freedom Flotilla?

One thing that sickens me is that some people, like Piers Morgan, are saying, oh, this is about bringing attention to themselves. We were conscious of that [on the Saoirse], but we always tried to make it about what’s happening in Gaza. Bring it back to the siege all the time. It’s a little bit of a different angle—a different way to highlight the siege. People get a little bit fatigued looking at horrendous pictures. But this is a healthy way for people to highlight it and keep the pressure on where it should be: the Israelis and their illegal enforcement of a siege.

It’s not about the people on the Madleen or any other flotilla, but we’re all on the same page trying to do something. Otherwise you can sit on your keyboard and type negative, critical stuff [decrying] “virtue signaling” and saying we should never actually do anything constructive in life, apart from looking after your own bank account. That’s what those people are doing. This is all about Gaza, trying to do something to try and end that injustice.

How did you get involved with the Freedom Flotilla in 2011?

I met this Ireland Palestine Solidarity Campaign organizer, Zoë Lawlor, who’s now the chairperson, because she was a rugby fan and we’d met at protests and things like that. I’d gotten more interested in what was happening in Palestine as I was coming towards the end of my career, and she knew who was organizing the next flotilla and the next Irish ship at that time. It just came up as an option: maybe someone from the sporting side could get involved? I was delighted to try, and it went from there. We got money together and we raised awareness about the flotilla.

Your voyage took place only a year after the fatal Israeli attack on the Mavi Marmara. That must have played on your mind?

That was very prominent in all our minds. But just because the Israeli commandos did that didn’t mean that people were going to give up. We were actually more resolved to continue on the brilliant work of the people in the Mavi Marmara and the 2010 flotilla. We were strong in our conviction to go again and to try and get to Gaza.

At that time the siege was in place for four years. There wasn’t enough attention on the cruelty of the siege from governments. Imagine, we’re now nearly 20 years later and the siege is still in place. But even at that time, people couldn’t move. Couldn’t import or export stuff. Couldn’t get lots of basic supplies. So we were pretty strong: let’s continue on here, and surely governments will respond to what ordinary people are trying to bring attention to.

Your ship, the MV Saoirse, was damaged before you set off. Can you tell us about that?

We were doing lots of high-profile stuff—I was trying to get ex rugby players with high profiles involved in supporting the flotilla. We were getting a lot of attention, raising money for the ship. It was a lot of action. So the Israelis knew. It was pretty much public knowledge when we were leaving, where we were going from. I’d say there were six or seven boats. The boats were all docked in Greece.

Our propeller shaft was damaged—as in, there was a chunk of metal taken out of it. Our captain recognized this when they were going to refuel. We otherwise probably would have set sail and the propeller shaft would have cracked, and then we would have sunk out in the middle of the sea. Anyway, the suspicion is that the Israeli commandos did that to scupper the whole thing. They did that to several of the boats. So we couldn’t go at that stage, and we were fairly deflated.

We saw this with a ship about a month ago [when another Freedom Flotilla Coalition ship, the Conscience, was targeted by drones]. Again, no one knows for sure who it was, but a drone attacked and blew up the Conscience. This is their tactic. I think setting sail at all is a success, and it’s brilliant that the Madleen actually got as close as it did, because it brought more attention on how cruel they are and how vicious they are in enforcing the siege through these illegal means.

But we got to go again. We kept things under wraps this time, we managed to set sail the second time from Turkey.

So you’re out at sea, and it’s about 40 nautical miles from the coast when the Israelis pick you up?

We were about four or five days at sea, and every day when you’re not getting attacked is positive. Hope grows. But we go to bed on the last night, and we’re like, okay, this could be it. Then you wake up and think, well, this is great. Our captain said—I still remember—the door is open, and we’re going to get in. We’re going to get to Gaza. It was a real sense of euphoria around the boat that morning. But, fairly soon after that, the dots arrived on the radar screen. We realized they were coming for us.

How did you feel in that moment?

At that stage you just think, are they really going to enforce this? Are they going to try and attack us in international waters? Then you realize, yeah, they are. This is what you’re dealing with.

I relate it to sports. You kind of get into game mode. We gotta be protecting ourselves here, because these people, completely brainwashed, could do anything. So we get into position. The captain, actually, decided that we wouldn’t let them easily stop us and kidnap us. So we put the foot down as fast as the little ship could go. So it’s a bit of a chase for a good while—maybe half an hour, 50 minutes? They’re chasing, but we’re fairly stoic now. Sitting down, sitting on our hands. Because you can’t give them any excuses. They’ll spin anything. If a hand goes in a different direction, they could say, oh, they were threatening, so open fire.

But we’re all fairly stoic. The ship was going up and down, was flying around the place. But you know you’re doing the right thing, so I wouldn’t say I was even scared. I was just so happy that we were trying to get there to expose what’s going on.

Eventually the ship runs out of juice, and they managed to board the ship and take it over. And they’re blasting water through the windows and you see the commandos coming on and they’re all balaclava’d up young lads. You can see the terror. Their eyeballs are intense, screaming at you. They’re so young, but they’re just so brainwashed—and that society’s gone even worse in the last decade—and they can’t compute, can’t understand, why we are doing this. Trying to help what they view as Palestinian sub-humans. They just don’t understand. They think we’re the ones who are brainwashed. So it’s a real standoff, and it’s a real sense of, oh, there’s no talking to them.

They were going to bring us into the same place as the Madleen has gone now. Ashdod Port in Israel, or what used to be Palestine before they took it all over in 1948.

And you’re taken to jail?

We didn’t want to get off the boat. This was our boat. This is the Irish boat that we had fundraised. And we’ve been forcibly taken. So none of us wants to get off. But there was a Canadian ship with us that had been brought in first. And they beat them up. They beat them up and dragged them off the boat. So there was a bit of a discussion: will we just stay on board and get a hiding, or do we just get off the boat?

I think back, and I’m thinking we should have just stayed on the boat and let them drag us off and beat us up. But we agreed to get off the boat and avoid the hiding. So they dragged us through the security. You go through a massive security thing—compare it to airport security. There were big German Shepherd dogs barking at us, verbal abuse coming at us, they were taking all our stuff. Then they throw us into a bus to bring us to that same prison that the current Madleen crew are in. Givon Prison. It’s a very similar process. It’s like this is their playbook now. This is what they’ll do. They’ll kidnap the crews. They’ll bring them here, they’ll say they came illegally to Israel, and they’ll try and make them sign this document [that admits to illegal entry into Israeli territory], which I know now currently eight people aren’t signing. I think Greta’s gone home to raise attention and be able to speak about what’s going on.

Signing that document may allow Israel to deport you straight away. But we all decided, no, we’re not signing anything, because that’s making us admit a lie. We did not go near Israel or Israeli territory. We were dragged there. So they try and get a little victory by forcing you to sign this thing. But we refused to sign anything and they just brought us to jail until we did sign.

What were the conditions like in jail?

We were lucky. We had our own wing, the men, but the women had to go into the general criminal population and they had a tough enough time in there, whereas we had our own space in a wing and an exercise yard. Food was basic and the lights were left on all night, that kind of thing.

But I look back with pride on that time. There wasn’t one second when I was in that cell and I was regretting what I did or feeling sorry for myself. I felt like, the longer we’re in here, the more people are hopefully talking about this. We’re not in anything like the conditions that Palestinians experience in prison, which is hell.

We were lucky enough, and we relished going into their kangaroo court, where the judge was trying to make us sign these documents and we were saying we’re not going to do that. It’s a complete stitch up, their justice system. We never got any chance to make a phone call. We didn’t have any access to legal support or any of that. You’re supposed to get that. But Israel isn’t really a functioning democracy, and you can see it in how it treats cases like this. It’s a good way for us to show the world that this is how they operate. They call themselves a democracy, but there’s no justice. Never mind for us, but imagine what it’s like for Palestinians.

They were just trying to force us to sign a document that was completely false. So we didn’t do that. Eventually the Irish embassy was able to push the case and then they didn’t want anything more to deal with. They cracked. The Israeli authorities released us about five or six days later.

But we didn’t sign that document. Hopefully with the Madleen people, that’ll happen again. The media and the attention will still stay on them. They don’t need to sign anything. Eventually the Israelis will release them and they’ll get to go home. But I would urge them to stay strong, because the longer they’re there, they’re bringing more attention to the injustice of that system.

You did eventually make it to Gaza in 2013, is that right?

When we came back [from Israel in 2011], we were obviously very deflated and disappointed. We regrouped and wondered is there another way we can go about this? Is there another way we can actually make contact with people in Gaza? In the end, we got to go in through Egypt and through Rafah overland. You could get through at that stage.

We got into Gaza. We got to meet the beautiful population there and see how lovely they all are. How mad about life they are—how happy-going they are, despite everything. We managed to set up a connection with a sports team over there: Al-Hilal. Amazing young kids and amazing coaches. Eventually we got them over to Ireland and they got to play matches. They were so full of life and full of joy. We got to play [the Irish sport of] hurling, as well. They got to meet the president, Michael D. Higgins, the legend, and they just got to sample a little bit of normality for a while, you know?

The devastating thing is a couple of those lads who came over at that time have since been killed by the Israelis. The chairman of the club has also been killed and their pitch is completely destroyed, their facilities totally destroyed. All sport in Gaza is canceled. It doesn’t exist. You can’t even kick a ball around without the realistic chance of being killed. It’s absolutely heartbreaking to see that. We were lucky enough to get over and see how amazing the people are there, and how normal they are just like everyone else, which is the picture that the Israelis don’t want us to have. That’s why the siege is there. That’s why they don’t want journalists getting in. They just want to hide it away from the rest of the world and continue their cleansing and genocide.

But thankfully, with people like the crew of the Madleen, people like the brave journalists in Gaza themselves, and the Palestinian people getting the word out of what’s really happening, we will never allow their spirit to go. We can keep the fight going in whatever little way we can.

What sort of role can the sporting community play in the Palestinian struggle?

The leadership in a lot of sports organizations is very conservative. They play it safe, especially on this issue. They’re “neutral.” They say they’re neutral, whereas in other issues they have taken a stance. You look at FIFA and UEFA, who banned Russia literally days after they invaded Ukraine. But 20 months later [in the Gaza war], they’ve done nothing. But groups like Irish Sport for Palestine, or individual sportspeople like [Manchester City manager] Pep Guardiola speaking out recently, it can all add up. It can pressure the leadership of organizations to actually take a stand, like what happened eventually with the apartheid in South Africa and the boycott movement there.

Sport can play a huge role. It just hasn’t really gotten to that critical level yet where Israel has been feeling that pressure by being kicked out of organizations and competitions. But it will come. I believe that. The more pressure you’re putting on will hopefully have some sort of impact.

When people sit back [to observe events in Gaza]—maybe it’s not really hitting home, seeing starvation and seeing people’s homes and hospitals all being destroyed. But can they imagine a scenario where they can’t even kick a ball around? Where they can’t even go out and train, do some exercise? Can they put themselves in those shoes? If you’re a sporting person, imagine not having that. It might be very hard for us to envision a scenario where we can’t get food to eat, or go to a hospital or go to school. That’s all happening, but that doesn’t seem to be hitting home with people in power. So imagine having no ability to play sport, kick a ball, throw a ball around. Because you don’t have facilities. They’ve all been destroyed.

Are we going to go and play in competitions with that same country that has done that to people? We’re actually allowing them to play in UEFA, in basketball? Eventually it’ll dawn on these people that this is horrendously wrong, but we can keep raising our voices [in the meantime]. Whatever sportspeople can do to draw attention to it will add to that pressure.