The headlines are predictable: another surge in Israeli demolitions in East Jerusalem, another round of Palestinian fury, another tepid condemnation from the Foreign Office. And yet, as we watch this dreary cycle unfold, one cannot help but feel a creeping sense of déjà vu. This is not, as the well-meaning but clueless commentariat might have it, a mere 'escalation of tensions'. No, this is the slow, grinding machinery of empire. Or, more precisely, the desperate flailing of a state that has forgotten how empires die.
Let us be clear: the demolition of Palestinian homes in Sheikh Jarrah, Silwan, and elsewhere is not about 'security'. It is not about 'enforcing zoning laws'. It is a land grab, pure and simple. A crude reminder that, when all else fails, the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must. The Israelis, like the Romans in Judaea two millennia ago, seem to believe that crushing homes and displacing populations will somehow quell resistance. They are wrong. The Fall of Rome was not brought about by barbarians at the gate, but by rot within. And the rot, in this case, is the intellectual and moral decadence that convinces a state that it can thrive on the perpetual subjugation of another people.
The UK's response is a masterclass in vacuity. 'We condemn these actions,' the Foreign Office intones, before promptly returning to the business of trading arms and turning a blind eye. It is the sort of moralising that the Victorians perfected: full of high principle, utterly devoid of action. We condemned the Opium Wars too, did we not? And then we fought them. The tragedy of British foreign policy is that it has learned nothing from its own imperial history. We tut-tut at the demolition of Palestinian homes, just as we tut-tutted at the demolition of Irish cottages during the Great Famine. The more things change, the more they remain the same.
What is truly galling is the intellectual dishonesty that surrounds this issue. The liberal establishment, in its infinite condescension, insists that the conflict is 'complex', that both sides have their 'narratives'. But there is no complexity in a bulldozer destroying a family's home. There is no nuance in a child watching her bedroom reduced to rubble. The Israelis, like the Romans before them, have chosen the path of Caesar: crush, suppress, expand. But Caesar forgot that every empire has a shelf life. The Roman Empire collapsed under its own contradictions: too many subjects, too little legitimacy, too much hubris. Israel is no different.
Of course, the usual suspects will cry 'anti-Semitism' at this point. They will insist that criticism of Israeli policy is tantamount to questioning the very existence of the Jewish state. This is nonsense. One can condemn the demolition of Palestinian homes without being an anti-Semite. I do not hate the Jews; I hate the stupidity of a policy that makes a peaceful future impossible. Israel's current path is not just morally bankrupt; it is strategically suicidal. Every home demolished, every family displaced, is a recruitment poster for Hamas. The Israelis are, in effect, manufacturing their own enemies.
And what of the Palestinians? They are not mere victims. They are a people with agency, with history, with a future that cannot be extinguished by the barrel of a gun or the blade of a bulldozer. They have survived Ottoman, British, Jordanian, and Israeli rule. They will survive this too. But the question is: at what cost? The cycle of demolition and retaliation, of anger and condemnation, is a trap. It is the comfortable loop that allows everyone to feel righteous while doing nothing. The Palestinians are angry, and they have every right to be. But anger without strategy is a fuel that burns out quickly. They need more than fury; they need a vision.
As for the UK, it should either act or shut up. Condemning demolitions while arming the perpetrator is the worst kind of hypocrisy. It is the moral equivocation of a decadent elite that no longer believes in its own principles. If we are serious about international law, we should enforce it. If we are not, we should stop pretending. The Victorians understood that empire required a certain ruthlessness. We do not have that luxury, and we do not have the stomach for it. So let us stop the charade.
The fall of Rome was slow, then sudden. The same will be true of the Israeli occupation. And when it comes, the historians will look back at this moment and wonder why we did nothing. They will marvel at our hand-wringing, our condemnations, our empty words. And they will conclude, rightly, that we got what we deserved.
