By: Jean-Pierre Filiu
The current conflict in Gaza is the third since 2008. If nothing is done to address the root causes, any ceasefire agreement between Israel and Hamas will only be a pause before the next outbreak of violence. The collective impotence of the world’s leaders is striking, since the Gaza Strip is, within the broader Israeli-Palestinian conflict, a far less complex issue to handle than East Jerusalem and the West Bank.
All parties have endorsed the Gaza Strip’s borders, which were drawn in 1949 at the end of the first Arab-Israeli war. The last Israeli settler left Gaza in 2005, after Ariel Sharon opted for a unilateral withdrawal, similar to Ehud Barak’s disengagement from southern Lebanon in 2000. There is no religious site in the Gaza Strip to be contested by Muslims, Jews and Christians.
Many Israelis dream of waking one morning to discover that Gaza has gone away (or been annexed by Egypt, a softer version of such a fantasy). But Gaza is there to stay, with its 1.8 million people crowded into 141 square miles (365 square kilometres). How did this tiny slice of the Mediterranean coastline become one of the most wretched spots on earth?
Over the centuries, travellers have remarked on the fecundity of Gaza’s vegetation. Gaza was once the leading exporter of barley in the region; more recently, it has been a producer of citrus. Perched between the Levant and the Sinai and Negev deserts, Gaza has had the misfortune of being at the crossroads of empires. Gaza City, slightly inland and adjacent to a natural harbour, has been inhabited for at least 3,500 years. The first historical reference to the loose subsoil of Gaza — which has made possible the network of Hamas tunnels targeted by Israel in the latest conflict — dates to Alexander the Great, whose forces besieged the Arab garrison for three months and eventually sacked the city, filling six ships with booty. Some 1,500 years later — following the emergence of Islam and sporadic rule by crusaders — Gaza was the westernmost point of the Mongol advance. Centuries later, it was seized (briefly) by Napoleon. In 1906, the British government, which controlled Egypt, agreed with the Ottoman Empire on the boundary between the Egyptian Sinai and the Ottoman province of Palestine, with Rafah becoming the coastal border town that it is today. In Gaza, the earliest Jewish-Muslim conflict dates to the period of the British mandate, which began in 1922. Under the 1947 partition plan of the United Nations, Gaza was supposed to be part of a new Arab state, alongside the new Jewish state. But when the state of Israel was proclaimed on May 14, 1948, the Egyptian army entered Gaza and the territory became a magnet for Palestinians fleeing from all over.
Israel bombed Gaza by land, sea and air, even though its firepower was far more restrained than what we witness nowadays. Gaza became, as one refugee told me, the “Noah’s Ark” of a lost Palestine. But for the Sinai, those waves of refugees could have settled in refugee camps around Cairo the way they did around Beirut, Damascus and Amman. The Egyptians administered this territory, but refused to annex it, contrary to what Jordan did in the West Bank. So in 1949, David Ben Gurion proposed to annex the Gaza Strip and to resettle its Palestinian refugees throughout Israel.
This offer was rebuffed both by the UN and by the Arab states, which would not accept Israeli territorial expansion. An Egyptian-run Gaza inexorably became a hotbed of Palestinian nationalism. It was sometimes directed against Egypt’s ruler, Gamal Abdel Nasser, as during an uprising in 1955. Or it could be manipulated by Egyptian intelligence, which trained the first Palestinian Fedayeen — freedom fighters or terrorists, depending on your point of view — for missions in Israel.
The young state of Israel became obsessed with the menace from Gaza. The Palestine Liberation Organisation was established in 1964 with prominent nationalist figures from Gaza. During Israel’s Six Day War against its Arab neighbours, in June 1967, Gaza was conquered in a matter of hours and the surrendering Egyptians were soon evacuated. But local Palestinian guerrillas kept fighting this new occupation for the next four years. Then the Israeli military thought it best to let an Islamist network develop, to neutralise the nationalist camp in Gaza. This is how Sheikh Ahmed Yassin built a power base and eventually founded his movement, Hamas, to challenge the nationalist PLO.
Israelis want the Gaza Strip demilitarised, and the Palestinians want a lifting of the blockade of Gaza. From an Israeli perspective, lifting the economic siege is essential for demilitarisation, since the blockade generates a demand for commodities that can only be met through smuggling, via the tunnels. And those tunnels can only be financed with hard currency, obtained through the exchange of weapons and explosives. So the most efficient way to “destroy” the tunnels is not by sending Israeli tanks into Gaza, but by lifting the blockade, reviving the local economy and offering, at last, other opportunities than militant Islam to young Palestinians. And yet, both Israel and Hamas still harbour elusive dreams of military victory.
The people of Gaza are the ones who suffer from these delusions. Three generations have grown up: a generation of mourning (1948-67), a generation of submission (1967-87) and a generation of the Intifadas (1987 to the present). To turn back the clock, it will be necessary to return to a concept from the Oslo Accords: “Gaza first.” If there is ever to be Israeli-Palestinian peace — with all other options having been exhausted — Gaza will be the foundation, and the keystone.
Filiu is professor of Middle East studies at Sciences Po, a former French career diplomat, and author of the forthcoming book ‘Gaza: A History’
The New York Times