“Violence, which plays a most conspicuous part in war, is a thing which belongs to wild beasts; wherefore we should take most diligent pains to temper it with humanity, lest by too much imitation of the beasts we forget how to be human”.
Hugo Grotius
Lest we forget how to be human, we should, for starters, deploy harmless “knocks” on the roofs of buildings in which Palestinian civilians are known to reside. We should do this before firing missiles at them in earnest, and risking the large-scale destruction of innocent life. We should, at the expense of good strategy and tactical advantage, notify the noncombatants of the harm that might befall them if they choose to remain where they are.
“Roof knocking”, a technique injurious to the element of surprise but, by any measure, quite humane, is the Israeli Defense Force’s practice of striking a target with a non-lethal “knock bomb”. A “knock bomb”, as you might’ve guessed, is an ordinance strong enough to alert the inhabitants of the impending doom, but not so strong as to be its cause. It’s a mild forerunner, so to speak, of the not-so gentle “real McCoy”.
Lest we forget how to be human, we should issue an explicit warning to the Gazan population, a wretched mass of some two million souls over which the terrorist organization Hamas presides. We should tell them, as Israel’s embattled Prime Minister Benjamin Netenyahu has told them, to “Leave (Gaza) now because we will operate forcefully everywhere”. In no uncertain terms, Netenyahu warned the Gazans that “all of the places which Hamas is hiding and operating in…we will turn them into rubble”.
Netenyahu’s policy recalls that of which Cato the Elder, the famed Roman Senator, was so unbending an advocate: Gaza delenda est. Gaza, and the Hamas terrorists who govern it, must be destroyed. They must be vanquished in toto. They must find their place in the annals of history somewhere alongside the stiffnecked Carthaginians. Taking Netenyahu seriously, every square inch of Gaza must be turned into rubble; every terrorist killed; and the soil through which they built their extensive network of underground tunnels, salted with a generous hand.
Lest we forget how to be human, we should warmly encourage the Palestinians to seek refuge in a different country, preferably one with which they’re religiously, ethnically, and culturally simpatico.
Contiguous with Gaza’s southern border is the northwest corner of Egypt. There, between the Mediterranean and the Red Seas, the boundless, barren Sinai stretches. To hordes of displaced and needful Gazans, it reaches out its sandy arms in neighborly welcome. In Egypt, a nation dominated by Sunni coreligionists, the Gazans will no doubt find a desert sanctuary governed by friends. Friends, not infidels, with whom they’ll get along nicely. There, in that good and charitable country whose solicitude for an Islamic neighbor will serve as a shining example to all, hospitality will be found.
A consummate humanitarian, Colonel Richard Hecht of the Israeli army has encouraged Gazans to travel through the Rafah crossing (a well-fortified border checkpoint) and enter Egypt. “The Rafah crossing”, Hecht declared in an address to Gazans, “is still open. Anyone who can come out, I advise them to do so”. The intimation, of course, is that an Israeli offensive and siege are forthcoming, of which innocent Palestinians might prefer not to be the casualties.
Lest we forget how to be human, we should disseminate careful instructions to the Gazans in the form of a thousand leaflets dropped from the sky. On the handy little leaflets, with which the dusty streets of Gaza are littered, advice to move south–far away from the battleground–will be written (in Arabic, of course, for the reader’s convenience). If that weren’t enough, mass text messages will be sent out to all civilians, warning them that their supply of water and electricity will soon be cut off. Further instructions on how to deal with this difficult scenario will also be provided.
Lest we forget how to be human…
The Israelis, to their everlasting credit, haven’t forgotten how to be human. Even after suffering the gratuitous slaughter of their thirteen hundred countrymen, even after learning about the rape and abuse of their women, the pillage and arson of their towns, the desecration and defilement of their holy sites, the kidnapping and murder of their brothers and sisters, grandparents and children, husbands and wives, their humanity somehow persists. It remains strong as ever. It is, like their faith in God and their pride of nation, unbroken.
Hamas, on the other hand, has proven itself to be something less than human. Far less, in fact. The behavior of its members recalls a kind of savagery one might expect to observe in a species much lower down the evolutionary ladder. Certainly much lower than us–much lower than human beings, the pinnacle of all creation and that which is nearest to God.
And yet, it would be a grave injustice and a terrible insult to wild beasts to compare their behavior to that of Hamas. In fact, so far as I can tell, wild beasts are perfect gentlemen in comparison to these bloodthirsty, vile, ruthless, Anti-Semitic monsters. The fiercest lion, his dark maw ensanguined with the gore of a fresh-killed zebra, would avert his kingly eyes from the sight of Hamas’ slaughter. He just couldn’t stomach the “beastliness” of it all. The cruelest shark, his serrated teeth awash in the blood of his fishy prey, would cringe at the thought of decapitated infants, sodomized girls, and eviscerated young men being led away in trucks.
No–it is not by imitating beasts that we forget how to be human. We should not defame beasts, to whom we might profitably turn when seeking moral guidance. We can’t forget to be that which we unthinkingly are. To quote Lord Tennyson, “That which we are, we are”. It’s true. To be human, we’ve doubtless learned from personal experience, is to be capable of both extremes: the deepest depravity, and the highest righteousness; the most infernal evil, and the most saintlike good.
Lest we forget how to be human…
The truth is, we cannot forget how to be human, no matter how hard we try. We can, however, forget how to be humane.
In this time of confusion, turpitude, unrest, and war, we ought to be on the look-out for acts of humaneness. Prior to their engagement with the enemy, the Israelis have already given us many examples. From Hamas, on the other hand, we’ve received none. We’ve received only the opposite: acts of unspeakable brutality of which the memory can’t be cleansed; acts of shocking inhumaneness, by which one is forced to question his alleged nearness to God.
Perhaps Hamas will, in the coming months, heed the advice of the great Dutchman, Hugo Grotius, and take “diligent pains” to temper its violence with humanity. While I’m doubtful that it will, I hold out hope. Contrarily, the Israelis might take “diligent pains” of their own to temper their humanity with violence. It might be necessary for them to do so, lest they cease–not only as a state, but as a people–to exist.