Hannah Fisher

It is a curious thing, how wars are never fought by those who start them. And yet, every day, the same pantomime plays out: generals at podiums, politicians behind glass, negotiators in clean suits shuttling between cities, while the people, the real people, dig graves for their children. Yesterday, the so-called peace talks failed. Again. Not that anyone seriously expected otherwise. These negotiations have become a form of theater, a ritual performance designed not to end the war, but to prolong the illusion that someone, somewhere, wants to. And predictably, the punishment followed: more bombs, more evacuations, more square kilometers turned to ash. The official explanation? “Military pressure.” The reality? Collective punishment disguised as policy. After 556 days, Gaza is no longer a place. It is an experiment, a question posed to humanity: how long can a population be bombed, starved, and displaced before it ceases to exist? And how quietly can this be done before the world looks away for good? Over 60,000 are dead. A quarter of a million wounded. One million living in tents. This is not collateral damage, it is arithmetic. The children no longer go to school. The elderly die without medicine. The youth know they will not grow old. These are not military targets; they are the very fabric of a society being erased. We are told this is all being done to pressure those holding hostages. But the bombs are not falling on those with power. The strikes are not reaching those giving orders. They are falling on the powerless, civilians who hold no weapons, no political authority, no part in decision-making. The truth is simpler: the people are the target. And their disappearance is the strategy. Call it what you like- security, retaliation, defense- but history, unkind and unbending, will call it by its proper name. And it will remember not the generals, nor the headlines, but the silence that followed. #GazaGenocide