My only “crime” was being a doctor’: Dr. Ahmad Mhanna on his 22 months in Israeli detention

When news like this hits the wire, it doesn’t just stay in the headlines—it ripples through the streets of Dearborn and the neighborhoods of Detroit. For a community where family ties to the Levant are deeply woven into the fabric of daily life, the testimony of Dr. Ahmad Mhanna isn’t just a report from Amnesty International; it’s a visceral shock that echoes through the coffee shops on Michigan Avenue and the halls of local community centers. We often talk about “global events” as if they are distant, but in Metro Detroit, the distance between a hospital in northern Gaza and a living room in Wayne County is practically nonexistent when the trauma is this acute.

Dr. Mhanna’s account of his 22 months in detention is a grueling study in what happens when the most basic tenets of international law are discarded. As the former director of Al-Awda Hospital, he represents the frontline of medical neutrality—the idea that healthcare workers and facilities should be sanctuaries, untouchable regardless of the conflict surrounding them. Yet, his experience—from being blindfolded in his surgical scrubs to the psychological warfare of the “disco room” where loud music was used to strip away sleep—reveals a systemic erasure of that neutrality. The details are harrowing: the “tashrifa” rituals of humiliation, the engineered hunger, and the sheer indifference to human life that saw a colleague die of ascites while the guards mocked his medical credentials.

This isn’t just an isolated case of military overreach. When we look at the broader patterns documented by the Amnesty International reports and the interventions of the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), we see a terrifying trend of “secret evidence” and the use of the Unlawful Combatants Law to justify indefinite detention. For the legal scholars at the University of Michigan or the activists organizing in Detroit, this represents a collapse of the Geneva Conventions in real-time. The psychological toll—what Dr. Mhanna describes as a continuing struggle with insomnia and anxiety—is a second-order effect that will persist long after the physical restraints are removed.

The cruelty Mhanna describes, particularly the “dog kennel” (Al-Kallaba) and the deprivation of basic hygiene for six months, points to a deliberate attempt to dehumanize the subject. When a doctor is told, “You are not a doctor here; you are a terrorist,” the goal isn’t intelligence gathering—it’s the breaking of the spirit. It’s a stark reminder that the infrastructure of healthcare is often the first thing to be weaponized in modern asymmetric warfare. The World Health Organization (WHO) has frequently warned about the dangers facing healthcare workers in conflict zones, but Mhanna’s testimony provides the human face to those sterile institutional warnings.

In our own backyard, the impact of these reports manifests as a collective trauma. When the local diaspora hears that a physician was treated like an animal for the “crime” of practicing medicine, it fuels a deep-seated distrust of international oversight and a renewed urgency for local advocacy. The resilience Mhanna shows—returning to his commitment to his patients despite losing 28 kilograms and enduring months of torture—is the kind of strength that resonates deeply with the immigrant experience in Michigan: the drive to serve the community even when the world seems designed to break you.

Given my background in geo-journalism and analyzing the intersection of global crises and local stability, I know that these stories often leave community members feeling powerless. When global atrocities mirror the fears of those living in the Detroit metro area, the priority shifts from observation to support. If you or your loved ones are grappling with the psychological weight of these events, or if you are seeking ways to provide tangible support to those affected by international conflict, you need specific, high-level local expertise.

Here are the three types of local professionals in the Detroit and Dearborn area Make sure to look for to navigate this complexity:

• Trauma-Informed, Culturally Competent Mental Health Specialists: Look for licensed psychologists or LCSWs who specifically list “war trauma” or “displacement” as a specialty. It is critical that they are not only fluent in Arabic but are familiar with the specific socio-political nuances of the Levant. Avoid generalist counselors; instead, seek practitioners who utilize EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) or somatic experiencing to treat the deep-seated PTSD associated with detention and loss.
• International Human Rights Attorneys: If you are dealing with immigration issues, family reunification, or legal advocacy for those detained abroad, you need a lawyer with a track record in international law, not just domestic immigration. Look for members of the State Bar of Michigan who have associations with global NGOs or experience filing petitions with the UN Human Rights Council. Their ability to navigate the “secret evidence” loopholes mentioned in Mhanna’s case is essential for any legal strategy.
• Non-Profit Community Organizers and Advocacy Consultants: For those looking to turn their grief into systemic change, seek out seasoned organizers who understand the local political landscape of Michigan. The right consultant will have established relationships with city council members and federal representatives, knowing exactly how to frame humanitarian appeals to ensure they don’t just get filed away, but actually trigger legislative inquiry.

Ready to find trusted professionals? Browse our complete directory of top-rated experts in the detroit-area today.