"I am standing on the threshold of another trembling world. May God have mercy on my soul."

It has been 10 days since political prisoners Qesser Zuhrah and Amu Gib ate any food.

It has been 9 days since Heba Muraisi ate any food.

It has been 7 days since Jon Cink ate any food.

It has been 4 days since Teuta Hoxha ate any food.

It has been 3 days since Kamran Ahmed ate any food.

After the first 2 to 3 days without food, your body begins breaking down its own fat stores for energy, then its muscles, vital organs, and bone marrow, eating itself alive. The first days are the hardest. Then, you stop craving food at all as your body settles into the inharmonious rhythm of starvation. By day ten, significant medical intervention is required. As painful as dying is, hunger strikers say the act of going on strike is also liberating — it is a reassertion of life in itself, a reclamation of resistance when your body is your only weapon left.

Thirty-three prisoners are currently locked up without trial in British prisons for participating in direct actions against the Zionist weapons industry — in other words, they are imprisoned for enforcing the international law against genocide which Britain and the entire West has ceaselessly violated. On 2 November, the 108th anniversary of the Balfour Declaration, 2 of the prisoners — Qesser, one of the Filton 24, and Amu, one of the Brize Norton 5 — kicked off the staggered, collective, indefinite Prisoners for Palestine hunger strike in HMP Bronzefield. Prisoners for Palestine reported violent repression from prison authorities upon the announcement that they would be refusing food:

On the afternoon before their hunger-strike began, while being locked-up for the night, around 5.15pm, both Qesser and Amu informed the prison guards that they would be refusing food in the morning. On Qesser’s landing, the other prisoners gathered, as she made the announcement. The reaction from the guards was to press the alarm-bell, which brought other warders running to the scene, and Qesser was forced into her cell, to the cries and protests of other prisoners, expressing support for her. The guards then said she’d be placed on ‘report’ for a breach of prison ‘discipline’.

Qesser was 19 when she was arrested for direct action against Elbit Systems, and she turned 20 in prison. Since Day 2 of the strike, the prison has restricted Qesser and Amu’s movement, and banned them from interacting with each other despite being on the same wing. Amu was restricted from carrying out his job as a servery worker in the prison. They have been on hunger strike for 7 days but have yet to receive any medical support, advice, or care, with no official observations being taken. Prisoners for Palestine reported Qesser was “told by a prison nurse that they do not consider it a hunger strike until she stops drinking water,” and “told that anyone seen to be supporting or helping her in any way will be adjudicated.” Amu has reported dizziness and brain fog, and has been losing weight at an alarming rate: in the first week of the strike, his weight plummeted from 70 kilograms to 65 kilograms, a metric that has not been recorded by any medical staff.

On 3 November, a third prisoner, Heba Muraisi, also one of the Filton 24, joined the strike. Heba, a Yemeni with family in Gaza, has faced targeted harassment, has had her hijab ripped off by prison authorities during prayer, and was forcibly transferred from HMP Bronzefield to HMP New Hall, hundreds of miles away from her family and support system. She wrote:

I knew that in order to win this fight, we had to engage the enemy’s main force, and here…that would be Elbit. It wasn’t a recruitment, but rather a conscious incorporation from my part: I became Palestine Action. And now, from behind these steel walls and sensors, I will continue the fight and to resist. This is for the mothers who can’t bury their children, for the fathers who had to bury all of theirs. For the children who have no family left and too young to understand why. And for my family — who I don’t even know if they’ve made it out of Rafah. I will not compromise until all demands are met. Long live the intifada.

Treatment appears to vary from prison to prison — in contrast to her comrades at Bronzefield, Heba has been under medical observation since day 1 of her strike, which Prisoners for Palestine say “provides a baseline of care required for each prisoner embarking on hunger strike.” They are asking outside supporters to call HMP Bronzefield and build pressure for the strikers to receive medical care.

On 4 November, Jon Cink, one of the Brize Norton 5, became the fourth hunger striker. Upon announcing his strike, Jon visited the nurse to request a medical check-up, only to be turned away. He has still had no visits from medical staff. In his statement, he emphasised how important it is that those of us in the imperial core do not exempt ourselves from taking part in resistance:

An increasingly militarised world relies on the zionist occupation as much as the zionist entity relies on military support from the imperial core. Therefore, we in the Global North and benefitting from the status quo in some shape or form, must aspire to embody the steadfastness of Palestinians. Not to simply consume and iconise their resistance. We must strive to be as principled as Gaza’s old and young, proudly claiming they would rather accept martyrdom than abandon their land. We have a duty to resist wherever we are, weaponising everything at our disposal. The sacrifices I pay, for allegedly disrupting the genocidal system, are incomparable to the sacrifices paid by Palestinians and all people directly exposed to imperial violence.

I begin my hunger strike with love in my heart, love for the cause, for Palestine, for my co-defendants, the Filton 24, the PMJ prisoners, the Ulm 5, Casey Goonan and Malik Muhammad imprisoned in the US, the thousands of Palestinian prisoners and millions imprisoned globally. Our victory will be a collective one.

On 9 November, Teuta Hoxha, another one of the Filton 24, known as “T” by her comrades, joined the strike from HMP Peterborough. Like many of her comrades, she has been imprisoned for nearly a year, but is not expected to face trial until mid-2026. She was still recovering from her last hunger strike in August and September 2025, which took a great toll on her body, due in no in small part to the prison’s medical neglect. She described the pain inflicted by the starvation in a recorded message to US political prisoner Casey Goonan, who had joined her in solidarity from across the ocean:

How is the pain? Is your eyesight getting blurry too? Does talking make you breathless? Have you cried when you smell food on the landing? Do you still cry when you watch the genocide in Palestine? Does the cruelty sicken you more than the inevitability of your body’s self-cannibalisation?

The demands of T’s last strike were focused on her immediate prison conditions — getting her mail back, an end to censorship of her communications, and the reinstatement of her library job, which she emphasised was not “about a library job, but the principle behind it.” This time around, the demands are much broader. They were delivered by Prisoners for Palestine and CAGE International in a letter to the British Home Secretary on 20 October, which gave the Government ample time to respond before the strike began. They include: an end to all censorship of their mail and communications; immediate and unconditional release on bail; the right to a fair trial, including the disclosure of all communications between Elbit, the ‘Israeli’ government, and the British government; deproscription of Palestine Action as a “terrorist” organisation; and the permanent closure of all Elbit facilities and subsidiaries in the country.

There has not been a single word of acknowledgement from the British government related to these demands or the hunger strike. It is already the biggest collective hunger strike in the prisons of the British state since the 1981 Irish republicans’ hunger strike in the north of Ireland, and, with dozens more expected to participate, it could become the largest in the country’s history.

The same day T rejoined the strike, news broke that one of the Filton 24, Sean Middleborough, had skipped bail and was being hunted down by police. It has been nearly impossible for media to interview the Filton 24, but while he was out, before going underground, Sean gave a rare interview to Declassified UK, explaining

Everybody is very surprised at this situation, and it is incredibly rare for any prisoner to get temporary bail, which is what I’ve been granted right now. And the reason for that is because it’s actually my brother’s wedding tomorrow. You know, every few months at least one of my co-defendants of the Filton 24 have tried to have a bail application put in and then it’s been denied. My bail application was denied earlier this month, but the High Court judge decided to give me temporary bail.

In the interview Sean described the violent raid that led to his arrest, during which police handcuffed his mother and 17-year-old brother. He said he avoided having his family visit him in prison, including his young son, so as to not subject them to degrading searches and the horrific conditions inside. In a statement verified by The Electronic Intifada after he went underground, Sean made his position clear:

I am not on the run. I am merely being sensible, refusing to be held as a prisoner of war of Israel in a British prison. Outrageously, 23 of my heroic and honorable co-defendants remain in prison following our kidnapping by counterterrorism police…We were raided, our families detained and guns pointed at our heads despite not being charged with any terror offenses. The UN has condemned our treatment as likely ‘enforced disappearance,’ while my co-defendants are indefinitely detained before facing trial…I was locked up for up to 23 hours a day. I was barely let out for an hour daily. At the start of my arrest, I didn’t receive proper food.

In the face of horrific conditions and abuses inside, it is no wonder Sean chose not to return to prison, with his trial not scheduled until April 2026, facing nearly 18 months in HMP Wandsworth away from his young son. His escape is a qualitative escalation and a massive embarrassment for the paper tiger that is the criminal justice system. It shows that the freedom of our prisoners is a tangible possibility, and demonstrates the range of different tactics by which they might resist conditions of captivity by any means necessary. Our duty on the outside is not just to engage in legal advocacy for the prisoners, but to build a popular cradle of resistance — an underground.

Then, on 10 November, a sixth prisoner, Kamran Ahmed, joined the strike from HMP Pentonville. He was arrested last November in a violent dawn raid by “counter-terrorism” police, who denied his elderly parents food and medication for hours, and abducted Kamran, their only carer.

The trial of the first 6 defendants of the Filton 24 will begin on 17 November, and is expected to last for 10 weeks. This weekend, solidarity demonstrations will take place at 7 prisons across Britain. The Home Office lost its appeal to stop Palestine Action from challenging its proscription as a “terrorist” group, so the Judicial Review will go ahead as planned, from 25 - 27 November. Meanwhile, the hunger strike continues and expands, and the health of the prisoners deteriorates. There ought to be an uncontainable political crisis mounting, but many in Britain remain shamefully indifferent.

Still, the strike has generated international ripples. T’s last strike attracted widespread attention when she was joined by Casey Goonan and, later, Malik Muhammad, prisoners experiencing similar abuses in US dungeons for the political nature of their “crimes”. An Italian anarchist political prisoner known to his comrades as “Stecco,” currently serving a 3.5 year sentence, has joined the strike in solidarity. The strike has also received significant coverage on various Palestinian and Arabic news channels that are watched in Palestine and the diaspora, especially the refugee camps.

Lebanese revolutionary Georges Abdallah, who was Europe’s longest-serving political prisoner until his liberation and return to Lebanon this July, expressed his solidarity:

Dear Comrades, in the face of the repression suffered by the activists of Prisoners for Palestine, I express through this message my full solidarity with the comrades taking part in the hunger strike.

Twenty-two-year-old political prisoner/defendant Jakhi McCray, who is under house arrest on an ankle monitor and facing heavy federal charges for allegedly burning $800,000 worth of New York City Police Department vehicles, announced he would join the strike soon with a solidarity fast on 11 November:

I have the great benefit of being on home detention and this will not be as intense as starving yourself within the State’s dungeons, but I see this solidarity fast as a great way to put more eyes on Prisoners for Palestine and more pressure on the [British] government.

His support committee added,

While physically isolated from his friends and comrades in home detention, and facing five to 20 years in federal prison, Jakhi is not experiencing the harshness of prison. His fast will be different than the prisoners’ strikes within the dungeon walls, and will have access to medical care that is vastly better than what is available in prison. Still, Jakhi will presumably be going weeks without food, which will be extremely taxing on his mind and body.

In his statement, Jakhi also raised attention about politicised prisoner Joseph “Shine White” Stewart’s ongoing hunger strike in North Carolina. Shine, a citizen of the Republic of New Afrika, has written extensively about George Jackson and the prisoners’ movement. His strike has received very little attention, but he is now on Day 36, making his health situation extremely urgent. (I recently interviewed a member of Shine’s support committee about his conditions.) The hunger strikes in Britain have marked a qualitative shift in the political prisoners’ movement, enabling international prisoners to build bridges across borders, to bring awareness to their own widely-ignored repression, and to unite the movement in struggle and resistance that reaches beyond individual cases.

But having covered the last hunger strike extensively, I feel like I am talking in circles. Am I naïve for having hoped that maybe this time around, more people and organisations in the Palestine “solidarity movement” would show vocal support for the hunger strikers? The vast majority cannot even fathom a simple repost. The silence as our comrades begin to wither away chills me to the bones. Where are we for our prisoners, the few who have actually sacrificed their freedom for the cause in the West? Why the silence, in Britain and internationally?

I asked this as a rhetorical question and someone replied, “Because it reminds people of their own complicity in the face of the Palestinian genocide. Their marches and rallies are ineffectual so expressing solidarity with members of their own class who are engaging in effectual direct action requires them to face uncomfortable truths,” and to confront the inadequacy of the liberal, pacifist tactics fetishised by a major wing of the “solidarity movement”.

Before the strike began, my comrade and I reflected on the similar silence and abandonment during the last strike:

Silence is fatal. Even as T. Hoxha and Casey’s strike picked up attention, many major Palestine solidarity organisations failed, or outright refused, to uplift their simple requests for people to call and email the jail demanding that T. Hoxha receive the urgent medical care she required. Assuming the imperialist, genocidal [British] government does not suddenly gain a conscience and meet the 5 straightforward demands of the imminent and this time much larger hunger strike, it is our duty to lend our unconditional support to those on the inside undertaking these acts of bravery.

Let us surround the dungeons where our prisoners are held captive.

Let us ensure their resistance and sacrifices reverberate loudly and widely enough that the prison walls crumble down.

In their statements, many of the hunger strikers have emphasised the shortcomings of the “solidarity movement” and the need for real escalation in the face of imperialist repression and genocide — that resistance should not only happen far away in the colonial hinterlands, but is something we must take up here in the imperial core. Twenty-year-old Qesser wrote,

As a nation, we have made a shameful mockery of resistance. It is from our Palestinian people that we learn what resistance truly entails. It is from our Palestinian prisoners, whose captivity and unspeakable torture could not extinguish their desire for the liberation of their homeland, that we learn. It is from our resistance, whom we have cowardly forsaken, that we learn. It is from them that we learn, O Palestine, that we can do more for you than bang our pots and pans.

People in Britain have a duty to surround the prisons, to continue to besiege Elbit Systems, to generate an uncontrollable political crisis for the British ruling class. Pal Action may have been proscribed, but the tactic of direct action cannot be, and it has continued relentlessly under new banners. Just this morning, while occupying the rooftop of an electronics supplier for IOF drones, action takers from People Against Genocide showed solidarity with the hunger strikers, holding a banner that read “Support the Hunger Strikers / Prisoners 4 Palestine”.

Internationally, we also have a responsibility — Elbit and their subsidiaries are spread across the globe. There are British consulates and embassies in nearly every country. In the US alone, there are British consulates in Atlanta, Boston, Chicago, Houston, Los Angeles, Miami, New York, Charlotte, and San Francisco. The hunger strikers are asking for demonstrations and direct actions in solidarity. Imperialism is the world system and the battlefield is everywhere. For Palestine, for our prisoners, for all those repressed and subjugated by imperialism — may we do more than just bang our pots and pans. May we resist.

Follow Prisoners for Palestine on Twitter, Instagram, and their website for updates and calls-to-action related to the ongoing hunger strike.