I was powerless with my in-laws trapped in Gaza, says Humza Yousaf

In an exclusive extract from his book Under Fire , the former first minister recalls finding out his in-laws were under direct attack in Gaza as he prepared for his first speech as party leader to SNP conference in Aberdeen in October 2023. 15/10/2023 07:38 Elizabeth El-Nakla: “Thank you for everything look after my girls and inshallah I will come home again love you too x.” Most commented 1 Harlequins undone by jaw-dropping Santiago Carreras interception try Rugby union 28 comments That word “inshallah” — meaning “God willing” in Arabic — hung in the air as I read Elizabeth’s message on the morning of SNP conference 2023. Top stories 1 New What the orthopaedic experts do daily to protect their bones Health & Fitness 2 Why Salzburg should be one of your favourite things this year Austria 3 North Yorkshire’s cosy new cabin stay with a lakeside sauna and pub Yorkshire Throughout the time Elizabeth and Maged were trapped in Gaza, I rarely, if ever, shared messages between me and my mother-in-law with [my wife] Nadia. Despite her own life being in mortal danger, Elizabeth was still a mum, and she was trying not to worry her children. She kept a brave face as far as possible, downplaying her fears [that she would never make it home to Dundee], and rarely said anything to worsen Nadia’s anxieties. Advertisement With me, Elizabeth was a lot more open; there was little doubt that she believed she may well die in Gaza. Every morning, I would look at my phone to see if a message from Elizabeth had come through. Top stories 1 Six unbeatable Cruise Month deals to book with Times Holidays now Promoted content We had asked them to contact us every morning to let us know they had survived the night. Often, the few seconds between waking up, turning my phone face up and then reading Elizabeth’s messages were the most anxious moments of my day. I read her message while having breakfast that morning in our hotel room at the SNP conference venue … Inshallah. The word kept circling in my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling that [my daughters] Amal and Maya had possibly seen their granny for the last time. I gave myself a mental shake and tried to get into a more positive mindset … Although I suspect no one would have begrudged me for looking glum, given the circumstances, I did my best to project the image of a leader who was not only enjoying the job but defiantly overcoming its challenges. The truth, however, was that I could not be in a worse mental state for such a pivotal, possibly career-defining, moment of my leadership … Nadia and I arrived in Aberdeen the night before conference and brought Amal with us. In theory, this was meant to give us downtime together as a family ahead of a hectic three days … Advertisement On the first night we arrived, we decided to have dinner in the restaurant with a few close friends of ours. During the starters, Nadia received a message from Elizabeth about the sound of explosions nearby, and that the family in Gaza could smell the distinct odour of phosphorous. The thought of Nadia’s family suffering not only from explosions nearby but potentially from the impact of white phosphorous was enough for us to take our leave before main courses and head to our room for an early night … I laid out my itinerary and draft speech on the desk, trying to convince myself that I was prepared for the pivotal three days that lay ahead. I went to bed that night hoping to get a good night’s sleep. At 1am, my phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was Elizabeth. “Humza, I think we are about to die. I need you to promise me that you will take care of my girls.” My mother-in-law sounded remarkably calm, perhaps resigned to her fate … she explained that Maged’s nephew had banged on the door and told everyone they had to leave immediately as he had been informed that the neighbourhood was about to come under imminent Israeli attack. Advertisement Panic ensued, with people getting in their cars, cart and donkey, or in Elizabeth and Maged’s case, began to run in order to avoid getting caught in the oncoming blast. They had nowhere to go and were aimlessly wandering the streets of Deir al-Balah, certain they were going to die as a result of the incoming bombardment. My heart sank. Was this really it? I could hear the buzzing of the drones clearly. The Israelis knew our family’s coordinates. Surely, the IDF wouldn’t hit their house, or anywhere close by, knowing Nadia’s parents could possibly be hurt or killed in the blast? Elizabeth asked us both: “What do we do? Should we keep wandering the streets or return home?” It was a question that was impossible to answer. If we gave the wrong advice, we could end up putting them in serious danger … Given it was the early hours of the morning, I couldn’t get through to anyone from the FCDO [the UK’s Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office] or even my own staff. We stayed up messaging Elizabeth back and forth, trying to provide some sort of reassurance, even though I had little hope myself. Advertisement In the end, thank God, it was a false alarm … But in [what became] four weeks from hell, this felt like the lowest point. The aftermath of my conference speech Fortunately, the speech went down a storm, with many standing ovations, and a real sense of connection between me and the party delegates … Many commentators were praising the substance and also the delivery, saying that I was stepping out of Nicola [Sturgeon’s] shadow and showing, at least glimpses, of who the real Humza Yousaf was. It felt like a rare moment of relief … I went with Nadia, Amal and my parents to our hotel room to decompress and take stock … Before getting the chance to do so, though, I was asked to meet with a potential party donor … Less than ten minutes into our conversation, my mother-in-law rang. With hasty apologies, I stepped back into my hotel room to take her call. “We have been hit!” Elizabeth screamed. Advertisement I could hear muffled shouts and screams in the background. She described a scene of sheer panic. They had been hit by an Israeli airstrike. She was on the top floor of the house, in the kitchen, spreading hummus on a tiny corner of pitta she had kept for that day, when she saw a flash of light and heard a loud suction noise before the blast. With her ears ringing, the windows of the house shattered and debris fell from the ceiling, almost hitting her. The whole house shook in the explosion. While on the phone, she went downstairs into the living room and found Maged and others on the floor. My father-in-law had been pulled to the floor by his cousin, as a piece of flying shrapnel whizzed past his ear. Elizabeth was in shock, barely coherent, but told me she was sure the Israelis were targeting her for putting out her video a few days before. She pleaded with me to do whatever I could to stop them killing her or the family. It turns out it wasn’t actually the family home in Deir al-Balah that had been hit, but a house about 60 metres away. In fact, it was the house of young Fahdi Rafat Sabah, who had driven Elizabeth and Maged on their way to Rafah only a few days earlier. He was killed alongside almost every member of his family. Brutally murdered, his dream of opening a beach cafe in Gaza also lay in the rubble alongside him. The blast was close enough to shatter windows in the family home and for plenty of shrapnel to end up in their house. So severe was the blast that an eight-year-old girl, Fahdi’s sister, was thrown high into the air and knocked unconscious, landing on the ground near the front of Maged’s house. Elizabeth later learned that although the girl had remarkably survived, her spine was broken, leaving her permanently disabled. To make matters worse, there was no one from her immediate family to care for her, as all 15 members of her family had been killed in the airstrike. It was a miracle she survived, but who would judge her for wishing she hadn’t? Understandably, Elizabeth was spiralling and beginning to lose hope she would make it out of Gaza alive … Night after night, Nadia and I were receiving messages from Elizabeth about the deteriorating situation in Gaza. In her own words, “it is a nightmare we cannot wake up from”. We left for home shortly after my conference speech. That night I put Amal to bed. She asked me the same question she had asked virtually every day since this nightmare began: “Will Granny come home tomorrow?” I told her the thunder still hadn’t stopped but as soon as it did Granny would be home, hoping that my croaking voice didn’t betray my own fears that Elizabeth and Maged might not make it out of Gaza alive. After getting her to sleep, I went to join Nadia, who was glued to Al Jazeera, her shoulders slumped, flicking intermittently between the English and Arabic channels. She had been crying. As I sat down beside her to try to comfort her, she passed me her phone to show me a message Elizabeth had sent. 18/10/2023 Elizabeth El Nakla: I really can’t talk any more about these atrocities, and last night was the end for me. Better if my heart stops and then I will be at peace I can’t take another night. I couldn’t help but contrast our respective situations. I was sitting in my warm and safe home, having put my children to bed, knowing that there was little danger to them as darkness fell. All while my mother-in-law preferred death to enduring another night of relentless bombardment, hearing the sound of drones and jets overhead, and explosions so close she could feel her bones rattle. I have never felt so helpless. I was the first minister of Scotland, head of the Scottish government. By any objective measure, I was one of the most politically powerful people in the country. And yet, there was virtually nothing I could do to ensure my wife’s parents were able to leave Gaza alive. Extracted from Under Fire by Humza Yousaf, published by The Bridge Street Press. The book will be released on October 1 and priced £25