Welcome to Gaza

Imagine you have a flatmate and he’s an asshole: on a regular basis he goes out and commits crimes – he even kills people. And once he’s done that, he comes back and hides in the flat – in a hidden compartment in the wall that’s hard to spot. Now, when he’s committed a crime, the police comes – but they can’t find him because he’s in the wall. So what they do is they swing baseball bats around, breaking a lot of stuff in the process and quite often hitting you. What you would like to do is leave the flat when the police comes but you can’t because there’s two guys at the flat’s door blocking you. One is with the police and the other one used to live with a friend of your flatmate’s but recently beat him up so badly that he’s in the hospital and it’s not clear that he’s gonna make it.
Also, the police is in control of your water and electricity supply and sometimes, instead for coming into your flat, they just turn the supply off to punish your flatmate.
When you, or other people, point this treatment out, the police, and the people the police works for say that it isn’t the police’s fault. They didn’t have a choice! It’s actually your flatmate’s fault – he shouldn’t have hid. Actually, the most cynical tell you that it’s your own fault – you shouldn’t have moved in with him.

What you could do is tell the police where the guy is hidden…but you’ve heard from others what happens then: because they are afraid he might have a knife or gun and injure or kill one of them, they hammer on the compartment’s door and then leave. And then he comes out and beats you up for having betrayed him.

And I haven’t mentioned yet – you have some trouble getting the basic necessities for living because you can’t simply go shopping. There’s those guys at the door and they only let you out after a strip search – and sometimes they change their mind and you cannot go out at all. And of course there’s the problem of money – the police and that other guy will let you work for them but they only pay a poverty wage, making it hard to survive. So you have to fall back to working for your flatmate, who somehow always finds someone to give him money, or to hope that he’s gonna bring home food and share with you…reducing your willingness to betray him to the police even further.

Welcome to Gaza.

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This entry was posted in civil war, military interventions, Musings, warfare. Bookmark the permalink.

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