One of my passions is gaming, a hobby that is useless at first glance. But as I've gotten older (and perhaps more delusional), some of the ideas found within games apply to greater issues. This particular post is going to deal with a couple truisms, the first oft-repeated in Magic: The Gathering circles. It goes like this: "There are no wrong threats, only wrong answers."
For those who don't know what Magic: The Gathering is, it is a collectible card game (CCG) in which two or more players are magicians fighting for dominance. They use decks of spells to fight each other, with the goal of either exhausting the other player's deck completely or, more commonly, reducing the opponent's life total to zero.
There are many ways to achieve this goal, but only two apply to the Arab-Israeli conflict. The first is an aggressive strategy, where a player normally uses cheap spells to overwhelm the opponent's defenses and win before slower decks can establish dominance. The second is a control strategy, where a player tries to answer the opponent's early threats to get to the late game, when the control player normally has a few powerful but expensive spells that end the game.
Right now, I would classify Israel as the control player and the Arab actors as the aggressive player. Israel is a nation-state that has been fighting for its existence since its inception. Its stance is overwhelming defensive; Israel tries to identify threats and neutralize them while essentially eschewing truly aggressive strategies.
The Arab actors thrust themselves into the aggressive role with the invasion of Israel in 1947 and have continued to present new threats. These threats ranged from the conventional (1967 War) to the unconventional (suicide bombings). Most recently, they have launched public relations salvos aimed to erode Israel's standing in the world community and thus, the legitimacy of its ability to bring military force to bear.
Israel has, to this point, found the right answers to the existential threats presented. The IDF is one of the strongest, most resilient fighting forces in the world and has delivered a string of decisive military victories against superior forces.
However, to bring in another of my favorite sayings, this time from baseball, "Past performance is no guarantee of future success." The IDF is fantastically well-equipped to deal with conventional military conflicts. On the way back from a trip to the north this week, we drove by a tank exercise. Dozens of tanks stood in formation on a field. It was an intimidating sight and not something any conventional army would want to see across the battlefield.
But this only highlights that the threat profile has changed and formerly effective answers may no longer be relevant. Few, if any, of the battles Israel will face in the next ten years will take place on an open field. Tanks, while wonderful blunt force instruments, are little use in urban settings where civilian casualties must be minimized. Those tanks may serve as a deterrent to aggression by Israel's neighbors but do little to stop rocket fire coming from Gaza.
If this were a game of Magic: The Gathering, Israel would have already won. They found the answers to their opponents' early threats, established a dominant position, and have the overwhelming force necessary to destroy their opposition (for the Magic players out there, a few quick swings by a Morphling or Baneslayer Angel would be an appropriate analogue). If this were a baseball game, it would 25-0 and the fans would already be heading for the exits.
But this isn't a game where the goal is to kill your enemy at all costs, morality and consequences be damned, or one that ends after a set number of innings. Israel cannot, for a variety of good reasons, commit genocide to ensure its safety, nor can it simply hold on until it gets 27 outs. Instead, Israel must try to maintain its position while dealing with the new threats its opponent poses. Israel spends a huge amount of human and economic capital on maintaining control, costs that take their toll on Israeli society. Yet these costs must be paid because the next threat, the one they cannot answer, may destroy everything for which they have worked.
By comparison, organizations like Hamas have little to lose. If one threat fails, they find another. And if that fails, well, they just keep plugging away. All of these threats are relatively cheap and force their opponent to spend a large amount of resources to find solutions. One example I mentioned in a previous post is the Qassam rocket fire aimed at Sderot. Each Qassam is easy to make, sometimes composed from aid materials and thus incredibly cheap, and capable of inflicting fear and death. To deal with this persistent threat, Israel has spent hundreds of millions of dollars on bomb shelters while incurring economic losses due to mental health issues and infrastructure damage, to name a few.
I do admit that I find Israeli paranoia problematic, especially since it complicates the peace process and leads to the occasional police harassment I have encountered. However, this paranoia stems, in part, from a gut understanding of two old truisms: There are no wrong threats, only wrong answers, and past performance is no guarantee of future success. Just because Israel has always found the answers before does not mean they will always do so in the future. And one stumble could lead to the end.
Or, to stretch my metaphors to the absolute edge of breaking, they are stuck in a baseball game that does not end until both teams decide to call it a day. And we all know how that turns out.
Showing posts with label Qassam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Qassam. Show all posts
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Sderot
Sderot is a small city located less than a mile east of the northern border of Gaza. The story of Sderot is relatively unknown in the United States although the city's recent history should be famous. Since the beginning of the Second Intifada in October 2000, Sderot has suffered continuous rocket fire. As of January 2008, over 8,000 rockets have landed in Sderot, an average of about 2.4 a day.
At the end of 2006, Sderot's population was about 19,300. Aid organizations estimate that by the end of 2008, about 15-25% of the population left because of the incessant rocket fire. We visited the town after lunch at the Air Force base.
It is difficult to write about Sderot without becoming overly maudlin or over-correcting into dryness. I will try my best to stick to the facts without injecting too much of my emotions into the picture.
At first glance, Sderot seems like any normal Israeli city. However, the sameness evaporates the moment you see a fortified bus stop or a house with a bomb shelter added on like an extra garage. After our bus wound its way through the narrow streets and finally stopped, we saw a presentation from a group dedicated to showing the world the truth about life in Sderot. We saw footage of a man levering the remains of a Qassam rocket from the ground only a few meters away from a school. We learned about the warning system which gives citizens an average of 15 seconds to find shelter before a rocket lands. We learned that Hamas has fired over 200 rockets at Sderot since the end of Operation Cast Lead and during an ostensible cease-fire period. Then, we went to the police station and saw the remains of Qassam rockets.
The rockets are generally built out of readily available materials such as welded pieces of scrap metal and pipes. Some of these materials actually come from aid packages sent into Gaza. Like the IEDs used in Iraq, the rockets are filled with explosives and small bits of metal. When the rocket hits something and explodes, the bits of metal are expelled outwards with great force, becoming shrapnel. Any unprotected person within a few dozen yards of the explosion will suffer significant, possibly deadly injuries.
Upon close inspection, I was able to make out the markings on the rockets. Most were green, the color of Hamas. A few were yellow, however, the color of Fatah. The welding was often crude and some appeared shoddily made. Still, such rockets have killed 25 Israelis and injured over 700 more.
The Israeli government has spent hundreds of millions of dollars fortifying Sderot. The schools all have bomb shelters including rooftop barriers designed to withstand a direct hit. They are still trying to find enough money to complete these shelters but their efforts have helped keep casualties down.
The most emotional part of the trip came when we got back in the bus and drove past a playground. This is what we saw:
(Thanks to Dave Fuchs for posting these on Facebook; they're much better than my iPhone pictures.)
As you've probably guessed, the caterpillars are bomb shelters for children. When the alarm sounds, the children have an easily accessible and, hopefully, psychologically comforting place to hide until the rocket attack ends. Post-traumatic stress disorders are fairly common among children in Sderot although, as our guide mentioned, the "post" doesn't apply since rockets and mortars continue to fall.
We took a brief bathroom break and walked up a hill overlooking Gaza. Late in the afternoon, Gaza is hazy; it was difficult to see very far due to the smoke and pollution rising from the buildings. It reminded me of a painting I used as a computer desktop for years called "Desolation." It is dusky blue, the ruined landscape of a city decimated by war. The husk of something that used to be beautiful.
Most journalism focusing on the Arab-Israeli conflict talks about the physical damage done to people and places. It deals with body counts, homes demolished, and rockets fired. Through this lens, Gaza is a perfect example of Palestinian suffering; its inhabitants are poor, the buildings crumbling, and the body count high. The story of Sderot is hard to tell because it doesn't fit this narrative. The town is seemingly nice, the buildings well maintained, and the people relatively well off.
It is the caterpillars that tell the story of Israeli suffering over these past years. The people of Sderot don't die in large numbers or fire rockets or do much of anything other than try to live normal, simple lives. But they can't live peacefully because rockets fall on their homes, their synagogues, their schools, and their playgrounds. Sometimes the rockets don't come for days or weeks or months at a time. Sometimes over a dozen fall in a single day. But you never know when the next one is going to fall. You don't know if you really have 15 seconds to get to shelter, or 10, or 5. All you can do is run and hope that you make it in time, and that your friends and family do the same.
That is the face of Israeli suffering. It is the silent suffering of those who cannot be safe because others do not want them to be safe. It is the suffering of those whose mere existence is enough to trigger murderous hatred in others. Hamas cannot overcome the IDF and kill the citizens of Sderot. But Hamas can induce fear. Deep, corrosive fear. Fear that causes adults to build bomb shelters in playgrounds. Fear that causes intense trauma in children that manifests itself as bed-wetting, agoraphobia, and slowed mental development. That is the goal of terrorism. And that is another reason why such attacks must stop.
One last note: While we were looking at the Qassam rockets, a car alarm went off for a split second before the vehicle's owner turned it off. Our guide, a former American who made aliyah just over a year ago, reacted instantly; he flinched, ducked down, and looked for cover instinctively. Only a few of us noticed because he straightened quickly and continued informing us about the rockets. Most of us didn't even remember hearing the alarm and didn't react at all. But our guide did. And he had only lived there for a year.
At the end of 2006, Sderot's population was about 19,300. Aid organizations estimate that by the end of 2008, about 15-25% of the population left because of the incessant rocket fire. We visited the town after lunch at the Air Force base.
It is difficult to write about Sderot without becoming overly maudlin or over-correcting into dryness. I will try my best to stick to the facts without injecting too much of my emotions into the picture.
At first glance, Sderot seems like any normal Israeli city. However, the sameness evaporates the moment you see a fortified bus stop or a house with a bomb shelter added on like an extra garage. After our bus wound its way through the narrow streets and finally stopped, we saw a presentation from a group dedicated to showing the world the truth about life in Sderot. We saw footage of a man levering the remains of a Qassam rocket from the ground only a few meters away from a school. We learned about the warning system which gives citizens an average of 15 seconds to find shelter before a rocket lands. We learned that Hamas has fired over 200 rockets at Sderot since the end of Operation Cast Lead and during an ostensible cease-fire period. Then, we went to the police station and saw the remains of Qassam rockets.
The rockets are generally built out of readily available materials such as welded pieces of scrap metal and pipes. Some of these materials actually come from aid packages sent into Gaza. Like the IEDs used in Iraq, the rockets are filled with explosives and small bits of metal. When the rocket hits something and explodes, the bits of metal are expelled outwards with great force, becoming shrapnel. Any unprotected person within a few dozen yards of the explosion will suffer significant, possibly deadly injuries.
Upon close inspection, I was able to make out the markings on the rockets. Most were green, the color of Hamas. A few were yellow, however, the color of Fatah. The welding was often crude and some appeared shoddily made. Still, such rockets have killed 25 Israelis and injured over 700 more.
The Israeli government has spent hundreds of millions of dollars fortifying Sderot. The schools all have bomb shelters including rooftop barriers designed to withstand a direct hit. They are still trying to find enough money to complete these shelters but their efforts have helped keep casualties down.
The most emotional part of the trip came when we got back in the bus and drove past a playground. This is what we saw:
As you've probably guessed, the caterpillars are bomb shelters for children. When the alarm sounds, the children have an easily accessible and, hopefully, psychologically comforting place to hide until the rocket attack ends. Post-traumatic stress disorders are fairly common among children in Sderot although, as our guide mentioned, the "post" doesn't apply since rockets and mortars continue to fall.
We took a brief bathroom break and walked up a hill overlooking Gaza. Late in the afternoon, Gaza is hazy; it was difficult to see very far due to the smoke and pollution rising from the buildings. It reminded me of a painting I used as a computer desktop for years called "Desolation." It is dusky blue, the ruined landscape of a city decimated by war. The husk of something that used to be beautiful.
Most journalism focusing on the Arab-Israeli conflict talks about the physical damage done to people and places. It deals with body counts, homes demolished, and rockets fired. Through this lens, Gaza is a perfect example of Palestinian suffering; its inhabitants are poor, the buildings crumbling, and the body count high. The story of Sderot is hard to tell because it doesn't fit this narrative. The town is seemingly nice, the buildings well maintained, and the people relatively well off.
It is the caterpillars that tell the story of Israeli suffering over these past years. The people of Sderot don't die in large numbers or fire rockets or do much of anything other than try to live normal, simple lives. But they can't live peacefully because rockets fall on their homes, their synagogues, their schools, and their playgrounds. Sometimes the rockets don't come for days or weeks or months at a time. Sometimes over a dozen fall in a single day. But you never know when the next one is going to fall. You don't know if you really have 15 seconds to get to shelter, or 10, or 5. All you can do is run and hope that you make it in time, and that your friends and family do the same.
That is the face of Israeli suffering. It is the silent suffering of those who cannot be safe because others do not want them to be safe. It is the suffering of those whose mere existence is enough to trigger murderous hatred in others. Hamas cannot overcome the IDF and kill the citizens of Sderot. But Hamas can induce fear. Deep, corrosive fear. Fear that causes adults to build bomb shelters in playgrounds. Fear that causes intense trauma in children that manifests itself as bed-wetting, agoraphobia, and slowed mental development. That is the goal of terrorism. And that is another reason why such attacks must stop.
One last note: While we were looking at the Qassam rockets, a car alarm went off for a split second before the vehicle's owner turned it off. Our guide, a former American who made aliyah just over a year ago, reacted instantly; he flinched, ducked down, and looked for cover instinctively. Only a few of us noticed because he straightened quickly and continued informing us about the rockets. Most of us didn't even remember hearing the alarm and didn't react at all. But our guide did. And he had only lived there for a year.
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