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Gaza

WAITING FOR LEVIATHAN

‘True’ and ‘false’ are attributes of speech, not of things. And where speech is not, there is neither ‘truth’ nor ‘falsehood’.  LEVIATHAN, Thomas Hobbes

 

What better place to wait than on a balcony

facing east! Below are a narrow road,

a short promenade and two tidal inlets

divided by a jut of rock of ages –

jagged, steadfast! And what better day!

 

No sooner has the Haredi family –

who are renting the house on the headland –

finished bathing: females in one inlet

and males in the other – than a car arrives

with three male Jehovah’s Witnesses,

who sit on a bench overlooking the sea,

having set up a folding notice board,

and talk to each other, sometimes laughing.

 

And, not very long after they have gone,

a large, extended family of Muslims,

some of the women wearing hijabs, appears.

They are led by a man in late middle age.

He takes the whole party of twenty or so

away from the beach and up a track

and out of sight onto pastureland –

then he leads them back down, and this time

onto the shore where he has them pose,

with some difficulty, for a selfie.

 

Later, there is only the tides’ drift; the rise

and fall of seaweed on the jutting rocks;

a pair of cormorants flying westwards;

the dusk dimming the light on the sea;

the night falling slowly, uneasily.

Perhaps Leviathan is no more.

He was still alive in the Book of Job

where ‘Out of his nostrils goeth smoke,’

but in the Book of Isaiah God

‘with his sore…great…strong sword shall punish

Leviathan the piercing serpent…

he shall slay the dragon that is in the sea’.

Perhaps God is dead, and the beast came ashore

in the darkness while I was sleeping –

and, in my dreams, I mistook as lightning

its napalm breath, as thunder its bunker bombs,

as a flock of gulls rising in alarm

Gaza’s children screaming…

 

 

 

SIX VARIATIONS ON A THEME

David Selzer By David Selzer1 Comment2 min read617 views

The torturers go home for supper,

and look quietly in on their children sleeping.

The torturers’ boss is still at work

in his well-lit, air conditioned office.

A master of capital letters

and clichés, he is drafting a speech.

He will mention Liberty and Peace,

in addition to Duty, Freedom and God.

 

***

 

There is no price tag on Liberty and Peace.

More than a hundred little girls, in perhaps

less than half a minute, were murdered

by two cruise missiles, each one of which

will have cost many times more to build

than the school in which the children were slaughtered.

 

***

 

To reach the border and the famed lakes beyond

tourists must drive through forests of dense pine

and oak and beech, past red ringed signs warning

of wild boars and bears, and finally

through a ruined village – at one end

a burnt out mosque, the other a church.

 

***

 

A shepherd watching his flock on scrubland

his family have owned for generations

is shot to death by a young man of his own age

whose great grandparents were gassed to death.

‘Vengeance is mine!’ declares the shared god.

 

***

 

A consultant to arms manufacturers –

dutifully inspired undoubtedly

by the man with the rictus grin, gleaming teeth,

dead eyes, and money in many banks,

who always assumes that  someone else’s

relative and loved one will die for him –

the retired general with the port wine face,

speaking to camera in his book-lined study,

tells us that much, much less must be spent

on the poor, the elderly, the disabled,

in short, the vulnerable so that we will have

enough guns for when the Russians come

in five years’ time. In the studio

the presenter and the panel of experts nod

sagely, and ask for no evidence.

Meanwhile, each month on the Ukrainian steppe

and in its forests a small town’s worth

of Russian soldiers die like their ancestors.

 

***

 

And this might be the way the world ends,

not with the Four Horsemen or the Rapture, but

with TV networks fixing cameras

at certain locations to live stream

whatever may occur and whenever –

currently, places like the ruins

of Gaza City, the more or less intact

southern suburbs of Beirut, Tel Aviv’s

presently pristine city centre,

and an oil terminal in the Persian Gulf –

in readiness for Armageddon.

 

 

RESISTANCE

David Selzer By David Selzer2 Comments1 min read600 views

A young man approaches as close as he can

to one of Goya’s paintings in the Prado,

‘El Tres de Mayo’ – also known as

‘The Executions of the Third of May’.

Napoleon has occupied Madrid.

A firing squad is set to execute

cowed citizens. A terrified man

in a floppy white shirt holds out his arms

in supplication, horror. Suddenly

the young man begins to sob, a visceral

weeping he cannot control. The young woman

with him instinctively looks round for help.

The other visitors are amazed, embarrassed.

He leaves clumsily, unfocused by tears

he cannot staunch. She follows, desperate.

 

Later, when they have returned home

he tells his story anonymously

to a reporter. He had gone to Spain

with his girlfriend – an art student

researching Goya – after he had finished

a tour of duty in northern Gaza.

The painting reminded him of an event

he had suppressed. His captain shot a man,

unarmed, hands up, pleading.

 

 

 

 

HARD QUESTIONS

The incense trade route transported frankincense

and myrrh, saplings as well as resin,

aromatic and medicinal,

from what is now part of the Yemen

northwards along the Red Sea coast

and then north east across the Negev

to the port of Gaza and the Great Sea.

It was a twice yearly sixth month journey

for a millennium and a half.

As empires shifted the trade moved elsewhere.

 

***

 

The fabled Queen of Sheba and her

fabulous entourage of courtiers

and of camel trains carrying gold,

and spices, and precious stones,

followed most of the route on her way

to Jerusalem to surprise Solomon

in his royal citadel. She disbelieved

the tales she had heard about the king’s wisdom

and his wealth, and intended to ‘prove him

with hard questions’. He answered so well

that she gave him all of the gifts she had brought.

‘And she said to the king…the half was not told me’.

Perhaps she had just found out about his

‘seven hundred wives…three hundred concubines’.

 

***

 

Dispensing some self-righteous, PR version

of King Solomon’s ‘judgement and justice’,

and each worth considerably more than

any king’s bounty, a ballistic missile

will take ten minutes or so from the Yemen

to Israel and vice versa. Though empires shift,

and death smells of TNT and rocket fuel,

each apocalypse comes with smoke and fire,

and no answers.

 

 

THE APPLE ORCHARDS OF BEIT LAHIA

‘The Carpet Bombing of Hamburg and Dresden’,

‘The Atomic Bombing of Hiroshima

and Nagasaki’, ‘October 7th

and the War on Gaza’, might be chapters

in a book of moral tales, concerning

human ingenuity and indifference.

 

***

 

After the Pharaohs came the Romans, and later

the Crusaders, the Ottomans and the British.

The orchards remained untouched – fruited each year

abundantly. High dunes protected the trees

from the winds off the sea, the sandy clay soil

nourished the roots, and families tended them,

harvesting each apple as if it were

alive and crystal. Now, in no time at all,

not any time at all, they are gone

under rubble and dust – aeons wasted

of sunshine and nurture.

 

 

 

 

DO NO HARM

Dr Hassam Idris Abu Safiya,

paediatrician and neonatologist,

Director of Kamal Adnan Hospital,

Beit Lahia, Gaza, was kidnapped.

 

He was summoned by loud hailer. Someone –

a colleague perhaps – photographed him,

in his white coat, walking carefully

and decisively through rubble

towards an IDF Merkava tank.

 

Since then he has been imprisoned without charge;

savagely beaten; malnourished; denied

medication; and a change of clothes.

 

***

 

Will history judge these times as a

categorically defining moment?

The dichotomy, disjunction seems clear:

are you for humanity or hatred?

There are those who care, and those who do not;

those who try do something, anything,

to make a difference; and those who

trim, lie, exult. The Talmud tells us –

and the Koran echoes the sentiment –

‘Who saves one life saves all’.