Gaza: unbreakable

“We are strong persons and we are still here, but we need you to stand up with us.” These words that I heard from a student at Gaza’s Islamic University echo in my mind upon my return from the besieged region of Palestine. The statement encapsulates the message I garnered from people who I encountered during Viva Palestina US’ trip to Gaza, which began on July 15 at 9:30 pm and ended twenty-four hours later. Our convoy, involving 200 US citizens who entered Gaza with medical aid in defiance of the Israeli imposed blockade of humanitarian goods, was restricted to a full day by the Egyptian government. Despite the limits imposed upon us, twenty-four hours in Gaza was enough time to appreciate a beleaguered but resilient people, whose pursuit of life and freedom in the face of utter brutality is a testament to the spirit of humanity.

Upon entering Gaza, I expected to witness a shattered society. I could imagine no other condition for a society that had endured nearly two years of suffocating embargo, was then subjected to one of the most savage aerial bombardments of our lifetimes, and then forced to continue life under the blockade, which extends to this day. Beyond these broad overviews of some of the more recent crimes of the Israelis against Gaza come the aspects of daily life under Israeli terror, which are too innumerable to list but include survival by Gazan fisherman of constant fire from Israeli warships, enduring terrifying sonic booms made deliberately by Israeli pilots flying overhead in American fighter jets, and working to make do without killed or imprisoned loved ones. Expecting a Gaza broken by Israeli brutality though underestimated Palestinian resilience, which is formidable beyond words. I have read many reports from Gaza of the toll that Israel has taken on the people of Gaza, and I hope that this piece speaks to the endurance of the Gazan people despite the inhuman condition forced upon them.

To be sure, the devastation wreaked by Israel’s aggression is staggering beyond description. Shells of high-rise buildings tower alongside functional and occupied ones. Piles of concrete rubble and twisted rebar dot Gaza city. Whole neighborhoods in the city seem to have more damaged or destroyed houses than unharmed ones. In addition to the bombed and half-destroyed legislative assembly and the obliterated Ministry of Justice buildings, we saw utterly destroyed buildings that played purely social functions, including homes, hotels, mosques, and even hospitals. Our bus passed by the rotten corpses of livestock animals, decaying over the past six months and recognizable only by their hides. The Gazan man narrating our tour through the destruction from the front of our bus asked, “I wonder Israel, were these animals terrorists?” Educational facilities seemed to be a favorite target of the Israelis, who damaged the Ministry of Education, leveled schools—including the American School of Gaza and a UN-run school—and destroyed 74 laboratories at the Islamic University, among other buildings on campus.

Beyond the prepared presentations regarding the siege, it was difficult to elicit personal experiences of the bombing from the Gazan residents I spoke with. When I asked one of the people who were taking us around Gaza if he could talk about how the war affected him, he simply said no. I asked another, who I had spent quite a bit of time with what the war was like for him and his family. He told me that there were no words to describe how horrible it was, and he did not try to find them. Indeed, mixed with the excited faces of people, young and old who flashed smiles and peace signs to us as our buses rolled through the Strip with Palestinian and American flags flying out of the windows, were the weathered faces of people who have been through hell. Many such people who we saw on the streets were victims of Gaza’s incredible unemployment rate. The wreckage of bombed out factories and the scores of unfinished construction projects, on hold until materials like concrete are allowed through the borders, exist alongside these idle workers. To add insult to injury, functioning Israeli factories bellow smoke visibly from Gaza’s northern border.

Despite the devastation and depression, life goes on for the people of Gaza, who seemed to be living it as vivaciously as possible in the given circumstances. Children play soccer in the streets. Shopkeepers open their stores and display their wares, despite the fact that very few can purchase them. Hordes of people swim in Gaza’s gorgeous, Mediterranean beaches. In our exit of the strip, we passed numerous weddings, complete with sound trucks blasting celebratory dance music and overflowing with smiling family members.

The people of Gaza are living as human beings placed in inhuman circumstances. They have the strength to endure, but they should not have to do it alone. The solidarity of those abroad matters now more than ever. “Please tell them,” a student at the Islamic University told those of us students from the US and UK who visited their campus, “that we’re not terrorists. We have ambitions like any other students in the world. We went to university so we can make things better for ourselves and our people. All we want is a chance.”