Before October 7, 2023, David Hasan, MD, MSc, professor of neurosurgery, never pictured himself doing humanitarian work overseas. But that all changed once the Israel-Hamas war began. The father of a young daughter, he was particularly saddened after seeing children on both sides injured and killed. Hasan, who was born in Kuwait to Palestinian parents, set out to do whatever he could to help, traveling to Gaza in late 2023 with a group of doctors to perform surgeries.
In this month’s EDI Spotlight, Hasan shares how he has since expanded his humanitarian efforts in the region, including providing backpacks filled with much-needed supplies for young women and leading an effort to build a village for orphans.
You have made multiple trips to Gaza to provide lifesaving care, the first in late December 2023 with 17 other physicians. Tell us a little about those experiences.
Before October 7, I only was focusing on three things: the research, the clinical, and the administrative [aspects of my job]. But after October 7, I got involved in the humanitarian efforts, and I was one of the first physicians who came to Gaza back in December. I went there twice to help with operations. But since then, I've been doing more humanitarian efforts, helping to administer medicine, provide ambulances, the dialysis units, neonatal incubators, baby food, and just recently 4,000 dignity backpacks for young ladies.
When young women over there haven't taken a shower or can't shampoo their hair for months, and they have to shave their heads, or they can't take care of their period; they're embarrassed by that. So, when you give out 4,000 dignity backpacks, and you see the smiles, it's worth everything.
The biggest project, which is part of my recent trip, is building a village for the orphans in Gaza and the unaccommodated. There’s about 20,000 people, and we're trying to build a village for them.
What motivated you to make these trips?
This war is completely different, unlike other wars before. This war is mainly broadcasted through social media. From October 7 until I went in December, you couldn't do anything. You couldn't give donations. You could see on social media videos of civilians being killed and caught in the middle on both sides. So, I felt flustered that I couldn't do anything. I got emotional about the war more than anything else, probably because seeing a lot of kids on both sides being injured and killed. I have a daughter who was 7 years old when this happened. Now she's 8. I could see that it could have been my daughter. Truly, I felt like I needed to do something, and I went to Gaza. It's different when you see it on videos than when you hold patients. Every person becomes a story, a human being you interact with. And since then, I will tell you, I haven't been the same. I'm very involved in this process.
I went there twice with an organization, but I'm independent. I maintained a neutral position and focused on humanitarian efforts. This resonated well with the Israelis and the Palestinians equally, and because of this unique situation, I'm able to build a coalition of 16 NGOs. I lead it. Palestinians, Americans, Israelis, and Europeans, and we do things together.
I never, ever thought I would be in this position. If you had asked me before October 7, I would have said my chances of winning a lottery ticket would have been 10 times more than being in the position I am now. For some reason, it just fell in my lap. I can resonate with all these people. I can communicate with them directly, with multiple governments, and we're building this as a coalition of multiple governments.
Were there any patients who especially moved you or who were particularly memorable?
During the first trip, because of the active war and the constant evacuations, the families over there, tended to stay together, so you had 100 or 80 in one building. And for one reason or another, the whole family in one building lost their lives. It was early in the morning, about 8:00. A score of patients came in, injured, trauma patients. There was a two-and-half, year old kid. Because of the limitation of the beds available at the hospitals, we had to make tough decisions about who could go for surgery, who could not, and who would survive or not.
This kid had a really bad injury. I tried to look for his family. I took a picture of him on my iPhone, and I tried to find his family. I went outside and looked forever, and I couldn't find any of his family. He was breathing at that time. I couldn't let this kid die with no parents, no one to mourn for him or cry for him. I thought of him as my only child because I have a daughter, but I don't have a boy. I had to call him a name, so I named him Jacob and I held him very close to my chest and said prayers. And by then, he had already passed away. I didn't want him to be just a number. He deserved to have family to cry for him and mourn for him. I chose the name Jacob because if I had a son, I would have named him Jacob.
In September you participated in the 2024 Provost’s Forum, titled “Universities and the Israel-Palestine Conflict: How to Discuss, How to Engage.” Why do you think engaging with others with different perspectives and from different backgrounds is so important during this time?
This world is emotionally charged, and people are very polarized. People want to help, and they want to make a difference, but they can't for many reasons. And that led to a lot of frustration, a lot of anger, and it polarized people.
The Provost’s Initiative is amazing. I'm very proud of it. It allowed people to talk about very difficult questions and engage in civil discourse. Also, we created a project where people can channel their energies, instead of being so attached to an encampment, to an actual project that can benefit the people on both sides. You see different departments working together, trying to engage in a meaningful civil discourse is. Duke took a different approach. Duke didn't want to just do lectures.
A lot of this work is heavy and quite intense. What do you do to recharge?
Unfortunately, since this happened, and between work and family, everything has been very consuming. But the joy I get is from my ability to make a difference. That's where I get the joy, making a difference for others. And my family helps me to recharge. I'm blessed because my wife – and even my daughter, who's an 8-year-old who understands – engage in every effort. So, we do it as a family to allow us to bond together in a meaningful way.