Tuesday, November 27

Calling Israeli-Palestinian struggle a 'conflict' misses basic inequities between two countries

By Sarah Price

What's happening between Israel and Palestine is most often, and most erroneously, referred to as a conflict.

What's erroneous about the use of this term is that it implies two parties on equal footing who disagree with each other. That there is disagreement is correct. But it is not only that Israel wants to be recognized as a state and Palestine disagrees; it's that Palestinians believe they should be free to live their lives without occupation, sanctions, forced poverty and starvation, lack of health care, and constant fear of snipers and bombings. And Israel disagrees. In its silence and blind eye toward the actions of Israel, so, apparently, does the rest of the world.

Where the effects of the occupation are most concentrated is in the region's hospitals, which are struggling to support and heal their patients. At Shifa Hospital in Gaza City, doctors have had to modify the treatment of their patients in order to give them any treatment at all, because of the depletion of drugs and malfunctioning equipment. They are so low on anesthesia, they recently had to cancel all surgeries, except for the most critical — and even those will not be possible for long.

Their 195 kidney patients have had to go from three dialysis treatments a week to two, because, of the 32 dialysis machines they have, only 25 work. The others need spare parts or to be replaced altogether. Compounding the problem is that they don't have the drugs they need to treat the patients for anemia in between visits, so even the dialysis they are able to get cannot do enough for them.

"We have to give the patients less treatment, which is a medical mistake, but we have no alternative," Medhat Abbas, general director of crisis management at Gaza's Ministry of Health, told me. "We have 13 new pieces of equipment and the spare parts we need waiting at the border, but the Israelis won't let them pass through."

Passage to Israel has been an ongoing struggle in Gaza's health crisis. Gaza does not have the money to have fully functioning hospitals and clinics and often needs to send its most dire cases abroad for treatment and surgeries.

Getting the permission, however, is an uphill battle — one often subject to costly fees the patients' families cannot afford; lengthy waiting times for approvals; the chance that even if they are allowed in for one or two treatments, they may not be allowed back for the rest; and the risk of being stuck at a closed border upon their return. If the patient is terminally ill, they are often classified as a security risk and not allowed into Israel at all because, they are told, if the patient has nothing to live for, they can't be sure they are not a suicide bomber. Better to leave them in Gaza to die, they tell them, than to take that risk.

But every day of life in Gaza is a risk. The snipers, the bombings from the F-16s and the infighting between family clans and political factions are only part of it, albeit a dangerous and tragic part of it. There is more to the occupation than the violence. There is what happens in the silence: constant fear, poverty, starvation, demoralized citizens who turn on each other, and forced lack of electricity and water, which can lead to contamination and disease. And the worst side effect of silence: implied consent.

The Gazan spirit is strong, and its citizens take it upon themselves to improve their lives, even with the few resources they have. Microfinancing programs have helped many refugees create work for themselves, ultimately bringing in more of an income than had been previously possible for them, and more importantly, restoring their dignity. Schools and humanitarian programs are also introducing creative outlets for the children, so they will find a way to act out that is productive and non-violent.

It would take so little to make such a marked difference for them. But the first difference that needs to be made is to pay attention and acknowledge what is really happening there.

"It is genocide," said Abbas. "What else do you call it when they attack you to force you out, and then forbid you to leave?"

And what, then, do you call it, when the rest of us stand by as it happens ... and do nothing?

Sarah Price is a freelance journalist based in Los Angeles. She was in Gaza in October.
Share:

0 Have Your Say!:

Post a Comment