Steadfast at Sea: Inside the Global Sumud Flotilla
Torleif Stumo nearly cried as he watched videos of Palestinian fishermen hauling up nets brimming with fish.
On October 2, 2025, for the first time in months of famine, Palestinians were able to fish in waters established as Palestinian territory under the 1995 Oslo II Accords. Especially since September 2000, fishing on Gaza’s coast has often been prevented by the Israeli navy, which on that day was preoccupied with intercepting a fleet of small ships, including one with T. Stumo aboard. He viewed the videos a week later in Jordan, where he had just been deported after spending six days in an Israeli prison.
The Global Sumud Flotilla (GSF), a nonviolent maritime mission to Gaza, launched from Spain on August 31, 2025 bearing food and aid. According to their website, the mission consisted of 486 civilians from at least 44 countries who aimed to break the Israeli siege on Gaza, open a humanitarian corridor and support Palestinian self-determination. “Sumud” means “steadfast perseverance” in Arabic, a nod to the unyielding spirit of the Palestinian people and those who stand in solidarity with them.
27-year-old T. Stumo, an experienced maritime engineer from Sheffield, Massachusetts, traveled with 14 other civilians on a small ship called the Huga as part of the GSF. He and his brother, Adnaan Stumo, another skilled sailor, first learned about the GSF through social media.
“We had known about the erasure of the Palestinians since we were children,” said T. Stumo, whose mother’s family is from Lebanon, in an interview with The Gate. Around 2018, the brothers began frequenting more protests, and, after October 7, 2023, their involvement went into “hyperdrive.” A. Stumo joined the grassroots pacifist organization Code Pink and, by 2025, he had relocated to the West Bank, where his humanitarian efforts were met with threats and violence from the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF). While doing protective presence on a Christian Palestinian farm, he took a photo of an Israeli flag attached to the farm’s fence. Israeli soldiers who had been observing A. Stumo drove a kilometer from their outpost. “They cut through the fence, took my brother, smashed his phone, blindfolded him, handcuffed him, interrogated him, and then drove him to the middle of the woods and told him to get out of the car,” said T. Stumo. “He was very, very scared that they would beat him or even execute him out there.”
Over the summer, a Washington D.C.-based organizer contacted T. Stumo, asking if he or his brother would be willing to lend their maritime expertise to the flotilla. Over 25,000 individuals had already applied to join, but the flotilla lacked sailors and maritime engineers. By mid-August, the brothers had agreed.
T. Stumo was among the first of the volunteers to arrive in Barcelona on August 23. Departure was just over a week away and the vessels required significant preparation. Procured on a tight budget in under two months, the boats ranged from “funky motor vessels” to “torn up sailboats.” Immediately, the crew set about making them seaworthy. Three hours of sleep became a luxury, and the participants formed deep bonds working in such close quarters.
“It was really beautiful,” said T. Stumo. “We were working so well in sync because everyone trusted each other so deeply, so quickly, we were all there on this crazy mission. We all believed in Palestine and the Palestinian people.”
Participants also steeled mentally for the risks. They were joining the largest, but not the first flotilla movement. In 2008, the Free Gaza Movement launched in response to Israel’s tightened restrictions on movement in and out of the enclave. The flotilla consisted of 44 individuals who successfully delivered aid and medicine there. In 2009, Israel imposed a total naval blockade on the Gaza maritime area. Free Gaza continued making trips and similar organizations emerged, including the Freedom Flotilla Coalition.
Since Israeli commandos killed 10 Turkish activists on the Free Gaza ship Mavi Marmara in 2010, all flotilla missions to Gaza have been intercepted by Israel, including three sent by the Freedom Flotilla in 2025. So, in addition to undergoing disciplined nonviolence training, T. Stumo and his fellow volunteers held their passports aloft in pre-recorded videos announcing their own abductions. They also prepared their wills.
T. Stumo describes the final send-off as “cathartic.” Thousands of people packed the Port of Barcelona, cheering, chanting and waving Palestinian flags. He notes that the event was livestreamed. “I knew Palestinians in Gaza were seeing this tangible expression of support, all the people who wanted them to live without fear and without hunger,” said T. Stumo. “That’s the only time in the mission I couldn’t stop crying. I just sobbed, tears were running down my face.”
The Huga set sail on September 1. The same day, the International Association of Genocide Scholars declared that Israel was committing genocide in Gaza. Israel has rejected these findings.
Within the first few days, heavy storms revealed mechanical weaknesses in the boats. In the following weeks, the flotilla stopped in Tunisia, Sicily and Greece to make repairs and welcome more ships to the fleet.
An average day on the Huga included a broad range of drills. T. Stumo and his shipmates prepared for the expected interception by the Israeli navy: they practiced raising their hands slowly, moving deliberately and throwing overboard anything remotely resembling a weapon, including multitools, screwdrivers and hammers. Other tasks included electrical maintenance and rotating shifts of cooking, cleaning and patrol. Two or three people constantly monitored the surroundings for drones and divers. The GSF also continued their media work, sharing updates about their mission while training the public’s focus on Gaza.
The drills proved useful when the fleet was repeatedly attacked. On September 8, off the coast of Tunisia, a drone bomb struck the Family, which burst into flames. On September 9, the Alma was similarly damaged by incendiary weapons. CBS News reported that the attacks were ordered by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. On September 18, the boats were targeted again near southern Greece by 12 drones that dropped stun grenades and itching powder. No GSF participants were harmed, but the harassment caused apprehension regarding Israeli escalation.
Under pressure from their respective citizens, Italy and Spain consequently deployed naval ships to act as escorts up to 150 nautical miles from Gaza. The flotilla was also joined by military vessels from Greece and Turkey, a Red Crescent aid ship from Turkey and two Turkish military drones. Although the Stumos’ parents begged them to disembark in Crete, the brothers insisted that the mission was too important to them and chose to forge on.
On the night of September 30, an Israeli military vessel cut through the fleet without lights on, in violation of international maritime law. The ship forced the captain of the Alma to perform an emergency maneuver and retreated after jamming flotilla communications.
Two nights later, within 90 nautical miles of Gaza, the Israeli navy reappeared with hundreds of soldiers and reservists. Beneath bright searchlights, the humanitarian ships were blasted with water cannons in a scene reminiscent of the U.S. civil rights marches. Nine armed soldiers boarded the Huga, searched everyone onboard and directed the captain to meet the Israeli vessel. By 7 a.m. the next morning, October 3, all ships had been seized by Israel. The ship that came the closest to Gaza appeared to reach within 12 nautical miles.
In a press statement released on October 2, the GSF wrote, “This is an unlawful abduction, in direct violation of international law and basic human rights. Intercepting humanitarian vessels in international waters is a war crime; denying legal counsel and concealing the fate of those seized compounds that crime.” The Israeli Foreign Ministry posted on X that “Another futile attempt to breach the legal naval blockade and enter a combat zone ended in nothing.”
During the 12-hour trip to the Port of Ashdod in Israel, T. Stumo sat with his legs dangling over the dark waters. The flotilla participants were kept on an outside deck, squeezed against two steel cables. T. Stumo was surprised at the Israeli sailors’ lack of experience: “They were stumbling around the ships. Some soldiers were vomiting. They drove our vessel with visible inexperience. They ran the engine too hot, so quickly that black smoke was coming out of our exhaust and scared the crap out of them.”
During their detention and processing by the Israelis, the participants continually requested legal representation, but T. Stumo doesn’t know a single person who was able to contact their lawyer. “[The soldiers] were probably ordered to be nonviolent but they took every opportunity to be violent towards us,” said T. Stumo. “Violence is in their muscle memory.”
The North Africans and Arabs from the flotilla were beaten, as was T. Stumo. Despite remaining nonviolent and complying with Israeli orders, he was punched in the stomach and back, and clubbed on the back of the head. Israelis led him, blindfolded and handcuffed, to a solitary cell on a bus, where he was left without air conditioning for hours. When the bus engine failed to start, he was removed and pushed onto another bus. Two hours later, he arrived at Ktzi’ot Prison.
Despite T. Stumo’s hopes that the handcuffs would be removed, he was placed in a tighter pair. “It felt like there was a swarm of bees in each [hand], and I blacked out because of lack of blood flow,” he said, recalling that the Israeli soldiers became nervous as he wavered in and out of consciousness. “They tried to kick me awake and to sit me up, but I wasn’t able to stay conscious.” When the cuffs were finally taken off, feeling had vanished from his left hand. He repeatedly asked for medical attention and was denied. Today, T. Stumo has nerve damage and will seek specialist treatment.
Inside the prison, men and women were segregated, as were flotilla participants from Palestinians. Those who required medications ranging from insulin to antidepressants were denied their prescriptions. When the group chanted on their behalf each night, Israeli soldiers told them, “No doctors for animals.”
Friends of T. Stumo had their faces smashed against walls, leaving them with chipped teeth and dislocated shoulders. Menstruating women bled freely on the prison floor. Soldiers burst into the cells at all hours of the night with dogs, assault rifles and riot gear.
Itamar Ben-Gvir, Israel’s Minister of National Security, also made a 3 a.m. appearance. When Ben-Gvir berated the prisoners as “terrorists” and “baby killers,” one doctor protested: “We are not terrorists. We are trying to save people from starving. We don’t want Jewish or Palestinian babies to die.” Despite the harsh conditions, T. Stumo estimated that 60 to 70% of the men were on a grueling hunger strike, refusing food “from a government that is starving millions of Palestinians.”
“I’m an American citizen and I was on a humanitarian aid mission,” said T. Stumo. “But they beat me, they damaged my tendons and they blindfolded me. They never gave me access to a doctor, never gave me access to a lawyer. This is how they treat the citizens of their supposedly greatest ally.”
T. Stumo said the experience deepened their collective understanding of how Israel treats Palestinians. If Americans were viewed as “animals,” then Palestinians, “who [Israelis] want to kill, to take their land, to erase” are viewed as far, far, far less.
According to T. Stumo, the countries that have publicly opposed Israel were able to extract their citizens swiftly – Spain, Turkey, Greece, Italy and Ireland. Citizens of the United States and United Kingdom, governments allied with Israel, were provided the least amount of information and released last. When the American embassy staff visited, T. Stumo said, “They were not only unhelpful – they actually gave us misinformation in the best case and lies in the worst case.” The consuls pressured Americans to sign an undisclosed Israeli waiver, threatening them with a deportation hearing that had already occurred. In the end, both those who signed and those who didn’t were released simultaneously.
When the Stumo brothers were deported to Jordan, the U.S. Consul General in Amman, Sharon Weber, informed them that she was not there to “babysit” them. With nothing but the clothes on their backs, Weber insisted that they fly out of Jordan that night or face consequences. A. Stumo, who had previously visited Jordan on a visa and was thus aware of the visa rules, asked whether their visas had not been granted for the standard 72 hours. Weber refused to confirm.
Luckily, the brothers contacted their lawyer, who connected them with GSF. After confirming that the Jordanian visas allowed for an overnight stay, GSF did what T. Stumo said the consulate should have: arranged a hotel room, fresh clothes, and a flight home. When the Stumos flew into Washington D.C. on October 10, they were met by an airport welcome party. Loved ones embraced them with posters and flowers. Press conferences and meetings with elected officials soon followed. “Rather than being burnt out, people are on fire—they’re very motivated and getting a lot done, which has been amazing to see,” said T. Stumo.
While the Global Sumud Flotilla did not reach Gaza, it solidified an international network of organizers and swayed public opinion. “When you have a global mission like this, things get much more simple and the timeline gets condensed,” said T. Stumo. “We didn’t deliver any aid, but what we did see was a massive uprising, in Mexico, in South America, in Europe. Governments who did not want to help the Palestinian cause found their arms twisted by their own civilians and back in the U.S. now, we are finding much more support from our elected representatives than we did before we left.”
Members of the flotilla included high-profile individuals such as Greta Thunberg and Nelson Mandela’s grandson, but the vast majority were everyday citizens. “We’re not heroes, we’re ordinary people picking up the ball that our governments and institutions have dropped,” said T. Stumo. “We are following the heroic leadership of the Palestinians. If you learned in school about the Underground Railroad and the Holocaust, and wondered what you would do during that period, look in the mirror. That’s what you would be doing—what you’re doing right now.”
Cover image from @nadiaforcongress on Instagram

