In a move that has surprised absolutely no one outside the halls of power, the Israeli air force has once again demonstrated its commitment to precision target practice, this time eliminating 11 Palestinians in Gaza City. The victims, presumably guilty of existing in the wrong place at the wrong time, were accorded the full, glorious spectacle of airstrikes that the IDF so generously provides free of charge. Meanwhile, in Whitehall, British diplomats rushed to their podiums, adjusted their spectacles, and issued a sternly worded demand for immediate de-escalation. Because nothing says 'we mean business' like a strongly worded memo from a man who hasn't left his desk since the Suez Crisis.
The airstrikes, described by the IDF as 'surgical strikes against terrorist infrastructure,' managed to hit a residential building, a bakery, and a school for the blind. The bakery, it is assumed, was producing kamikaze croissants. The school for the blind: obviously a front for insurgent braille readers. The residents of Gaza City, accustomed to such surgical precision, have already begun the time-honoured tradition of digging through rubble with bare hands while waiting for the world to issue another statement.
Over in Westminster, the Foreign Office has called for 'an immediate cessation of hostilities' and 'a return to meaningful dialogue.' This is the same dialogue that has been ongoing for 75 years, consisting largely of one side building illegal settlements and the other launching rockets made of plumbing pipes. The UN is expected to hold an emergency session where they will vote to condemn Israel, the US will veto it, and everyone will go home feeling morally superior for having done absolutely nothing.
The Prime Minister, fresh from a photo-op with a wind farm, has expressed 'deep concern' and urged 'all parties to show restraint.' Restraint, as we know, is the international community's favourite euphemism for 'please stop dying in such inconvenient ways.' The opposition has called for an arms embargo, which will be debated for three months before being quietly shelved in favour of a free trade agreement.
Meanwhile, in Gaza, the survivors continue their daily routine of mourning, rebuilding, and wondering why the world's idea of help is a strongly worded tweet. The 11 dead will be buried in a cemetery that has already run out of space, next to the thousands who came before them, all of whom died to the sound of distant condemnation and the smell of expensive cologne from Geneva.
So here we are, once again, watching the same grim pantomime. Israel bombs, Palestinians die, Whitehall tuts, and the world moves on to the next crisis. It's almost comforting in its predictability. Almost. But then you remember that 11 people are dead, and the only thing de-escalated is our capacity for genuine outrage. Cheers, everyone.
