The Tunnels of Gaza

 

Philip Weiss

Twice I visited the tunnels that connect to Egypt from Rafah, at the southern end of Gaza.
The first impression is that while the entire area is bombed out, and most buildings are either erased or are dangerous shells, the tunnels are a thriving industry. You see scores of tents jammed in between piles of sand and rubble. Inside each tent are generators, cable winches and big spools of cable, for pulling heavy loads up from the bottom of the 75 foot shafts. The tunnels work day and night, with crews of four or five men. One day we saw a Caterpillar tractor toiling in the sand, to dig out a new tunnel. Later I heard that the tunnel-men were trying to make a tunnel big enough for cars to come through. So far all they can accommodate are motorcycles.

You see the motorcycles all over Gaza, new gleaming motorcycles. Driven by young men, with flashy outfits on, too. Thus the tunnels contribute to the corruption in Palestinian society. Everyone knows that contraband is coming through the tunnels, and that the commerce is enriching gangsters; the cement my driver bought one day costs $20 a bag, 10 times what it ought to cost. The tunnels are big, illicit business. A tunnel is said to cost $100,000 to build. Capitalists are involved on both sides of the border.

The Israelis are obviously in on the whole deal. It is a simple matter to spot the tunnels. (There are hundreds, according to some reports). It would be a simple matter to destroy them. But allowing them to flourish serves two purposes for Israel, I concluded. One, if Gazans did not get the vital goods they get through the tunnels (including even cheese, says Taghreed El-Khodary, the Times correspondent there), the humanitarian crisis would be even more severe. Thus the tunnels serve as a safety valve on the inhumane blockade, lessening its effects in the eyes of the world. And secondly, the tunnels serve to corrupt Palestinian society. They undermine the rule of law, and undermine the presence of a civic culture. For who can feel good about the time and money devoted to a physically-dangerous activity that would be rendered instantly pointless if Gaza were treated like a normal place, and the siege were lifted? Who in their right mind can see all this effort as productive, when civilized human beings would never choose to live this way, only prisoners, forced to do so?

So while the industry is impressive--and might even be seen as a sign of Gaza's vitality--the whole thing struck me as desperate, cruel and inhuman.