They have made a desert and call it peace

And there was peace in Palestine (as if a snap of the fingers were enough to bring it about): today in the streets of Gaza people dance and celebrate. Finally the ceasefire and the respite from the massacre.

In the newspapers, the peace agreement reached between Israel and Hamas is celebrated as “historic”, “unprecedented”, a “great day for the world”, while Netanyahu speaks of a “national and moral victory for the State of Israel” (and this should convey a lot). Israel celebrates the return of the hostages, Hamas celebrates halfway, the United States claims the credit.

“We are confident that this time peace will last”, “Blessed are the peacebuilders”: Donald Trump’s bombastic words sound grotesque on a land that is a desert of pulverized concrete, of mass graves, of buried dreams, of generations sacrificed on the altar of an inhuman conflict without winners.

After two years, what remains of Palestine – which Italy and many other countries do not even deign to recognize – is a hell where it seems absurd that peace can take root. Gaza today is an expanse of ruins. And personally I cannot feel joy or enthusiasm, but rather a feeling of relief for a people tormented by a genocide. And that phrase comes to mind Ubi solitudem faciunt, pacem appellant (“where they make the desert, they call it peace”) which the Latin author Publius Cornelius Tacitus makes the Caledonian general Calgacus pronounce, when he tries to instill courage in his army before the battle against the Roman troops.

The bombs fall silent, but the crimes and wounds remain

Trump celebrates “fair treatment” of all parties. But what equality can exist between those who have the most sophisticated war machine in the Middle East and have acted by committing crimes with impunity and those who are trapped in a strip of land occupied for years? What equity is there between those who can bomb hospitals and those who have had no escape from bombs and hunger? The bombs are silent, but the injustices and crimes against humanity (which too many governments have pretended not to see) remain intact, cemented in the rubble and tent camps.

How do you rebuild trust after fifteen months of extermination? How do you heal the wounds of a society where every family has lost someone? How do you explain to the surviving, orphaned and traumatized children who now have to believe in peace with those who killed their parents?

A peace that seems more like a fragile truce (and reeks of neocolonialism)

True peace comes from mutual recognition and shared justice. True peace arises after recognizing the exact causes of a conflict. This seems more like a fragile armistice between exhausted enemies and reeks of neocolonialism.

Contemporary wars are no longer won on the field. It is enough to rename the massacre as “reorganization of the territory”, the destruction as “reconstruction”, the surrender as a “peace treaty”. Thus that desert becomes a blank page, on which the powerful can write their version of history…

But in all of this the real history was made by the Palestinian people, who demonstrated an extraordinary spirit of resistance. It was done by ordinary people who united around the world to raise consciences and stop the genocide. It was done by the Flotilla activists who embarked, unarmed and aware of the risks, to try to break the Israeli naval blockade and try to bring humanitarian aid to Gaza. Even if Donald Trump takes credit for the end of the genocide and did so with perfect timing (the day before the Nobel Peace Prize was announced).

I hope that it is the beginning of a new phase for Palestine, the first phase of a path towards freedom and self-determination.