Poking a Hornet's Nest

Writing about Palestine would be like poking a hornet's nest with a big stick. Everyone would be stung, everyone would be hurting, friendships would be damaged, and the next day, despite the emotional toll and feelings of futility, the hornet's nest would be rebuilt and buzzing.

I don't even know if there are any things we could agree on. For example, could we agree that the first casualty of war is truth?

Tom Fletcher, United Nations humanitarian chief, stated on the BBC Today programme that 14,000 babies in Gaza would die within two days if aid were not allowed in immediately. Appalling, absolutely heart-rending. It also turned out not to be true.

Fletcher says he regrets his mistake, but this was not an individual randomly selected in a vox pop to express his views. This was a seasoned diplomat, knowing full well the impact his words would have.

The other day, I listened to a doctor from one of the hospitals in Gaza talk about the lack of baby formula. I thought about those poor infants, those poor mothers watching their babies suffer. Inevitably, a little voice in my head asked, "But is it true? Or will this turn out to be another Tom Fletcher moment?"

Could we agree that there is antisemitic bias in the BBC's reporting of the Israel-Gaza war? I can still hear Jeremy Bowen, the BBC's International Editor, saying, "We don't know who fired the rocket that landed on the Gaza hospital, but it could only have been Israel." It later turned out to be an unstable Hamas rocket that went astray and hit the wrong target. Again, a seasoned reporter who should have known better than to offer his opinion without knowing the full facts.

Could we agree that Hamas is a terrorist organisation? If you read the Hamas Charter, the original one that has never been renounced, and the more recent sanitised version, then you will know that Hamas are Jihadis, the same mentality that drove the planes into the Twin Towers, that carried out the suicide bombings on 7/7 in Britain, that killed 22 children and parents at an Ariana Grande concert in Manchester. According to a French think tank called Fondapol, there have been at least 48,035 Jihadi terrorist attacks worldwide between 1979 and May 2021, causing the deaths of at least 210,138 people.

These are people who want to destroy our liberty, our society, the whole Western way of life. So I do find it very difficult to see how you can negotiate with Hamas over the future of Palestine or anything else.

However, that does not mean that Israel is the innocent party. No, you only have to read a book like "A Day in the Life of Abed Salama" by Nathan Thrall to understand the grief, the frustration, the despair of the Palestinian people and how the bitter seeds of hatred are sown and resown across generations. The book related just one harrowing incident; there have been, and continue to be, thousands of others.

Furthermore, it has to be said that there are fanatics in Israel's government and in its settler communities who are not interested in providing a fair solution for the Palestinian people.

After all these decades of strife, it would take someone with Solomon's wisdom to resolve this dispute. With the best will in the world, Donald Trump is no Solomon.

Maybe one day, the truth will emerge about every aspect of this terrible war, and two broken communities may start to heal. 

In searching for glimmers of hope amidst the conflict, I encountered this poignant poem by Mahmoud Darwish, regarded by many as Palestine's national poet. It was beautifully read by the actor Richard Gere, who met Mahmoud many years ago. 

Think of Others

As you prepare your breakfast, think of others

(do not forget the pigeon's food).

As you conduct your wars, think of others

(do not forget those who seek peace).

As you pay your water bill, think of others

(those who are nursed by clouds).

As you return home, to your home, think of others

(do not forget the people of the camps).

As you sleep and count the stars, think of others.

(those who have nowhere to sleep).

As you liberate yourself in metaphor, think of others

(those who have lost the right to speak).

As you think of others far away, think of yourself

(and say, "If only I were a candle in the dark").

If intellects cannot solve the problem of Palestine, maybe art will show us the way.