Ok, let’s start with the issue of withholding electricity, water, and other necessities. That kind of makes sense, doesn’t it? When you’re at war with someone, isn’t it standard practice to sever services between two parties? If Monaco attacked France, would you honestly expect France to continue delivering water, electricity, and other …
Ok, let’s start with the issue of withholding electricity, water, and other necessities. That kind of makes sense, doesn’t it? When you’re at war with someone, isn’t it standard practice to sever services between two parties? If Monaco attacked France, would you honestly expect France to continue delivering water, electricity, and other resources to their enemy? Or if South Africa were at war with Lesotho, would you expect them to keep feeding their enemy with resources?
Look, I hate Russia—my country was occupied by them for 40 years, and I despise everything about Russian culture. But even I wouldn’t hold it against them for cutting off energy transport to Ukraine during a war. That’s just how wars operate. You don’t strengthen the hand of the party you’re fighting by continuing to provide resources.
And this has to be part of the calculation, right? When you attack someone, you can’t realistically expect them to keep supporting you. That’s beyond unreasonable. Expecting otherwise is not just naive but completely detached from how conflicts have always worked.
Now let’s talk about refugees. I believe no one can remain a refugee for five generations—it defies the very definition of the term. I choose this example because it’s within a cultural context I understand. I’m Czech, and my people were directly involved in the killing and expulsion of Germans after World War II.
During the Nakba in 1948, around 700,000 Palestinians were displaced from their homes, and an estimated 10,000–15,000 Palestinians were killed during the conflict.
In comparison, between 12 to 14 million ethnic Germans were expelled from Eastern and Central Europe after World War II, and estimates suggest that 500,000 to 2 million Germans died as a result of the expulsion—whether through direct violence, starvation, or disease.
These Germans were stripped of their property and sent to a devastated Germany. Yet they didn’t receive any special refugee status. They had the same rights as anyone else in Germany, and over time, they integrated into society.
Now, 80 years later, I live next to Germans without any problem. There’s no one shouting “Mein Wienerschnitzel!” while stabbing people in Sudetenland or blowing themselves up in protest. They moved on, even though the displacement was brutal and far-reaching.
I think this prolonged status of being a refugee has caused much more suffering than it has ever alleviated. Instead of creating conditions for integration and stability, it perpetuates a cycle of hardship, anger, and statelessness. This isn’t helping—it’s just keeping wounds open for generations.
About proportionality: I think this concept is absolutely flawed. It’s like me walking up to Mike Tyson and trying to punch him. He dodges, then starts beating my ass into the ground. If I then yell, "Hey! I only tried to punch you! This isn’t proportional or fair!" it would be completely absurd.
I understand that the notion to destroy Hamas and all perpetrators of October 7th is rational, right? In other words, I wouldn’t want to live in a country that just says, "Oh, you massacred my people? I’ll let this one slide, but you get a stern warning." I’m not a warmonger or nationalist in any sense of the word, but I would strongly propose returning to the tradition of defenestration and throwing anyone who lets it slide out of a window.
About the process of what’s happening: until Hamas is wiped out and all hostages are secured, I’m withholding judgment on the overall actions being taken. Hamas is the governing body in Gaza—they’re the ones making these decisions. If they were to return the hostages and dissolve themselves, and Israel continued such attacks, then my opinion would change drastically. But as of now, it’s a matter of rational cause and effect.
By the definition of international law, and after listening to Francesca Albanese, it is most likely genocide. I’m not disputing that—it meets the criteria as laid out in international law. However, my emotional reaction to the word "genocide" isn’t tied to its legal definition but to the context in which I associate the term.
When I hear "genocide," my mind immediately goes to events like the Holocaust or the Rwandan Genocide. I recently watched a documentary on Rwanda, and what’s happening in Gaza has nothing in common with that. The Rwandan Genocide was marked by the deliberate and rapid physical extermination of nearly a million people in just a few months. The scale, intent, and method of brutality are completely different from what we see in Gaza.
From what I understand, the use of "genocide" in this context focuses more on the societal and cultural aspects of the definition. That’s valid within international law, but frankly, I don’t care much about those aspects. I’ve never been someone who values national or cultural identity. I’m Czech, but I think we would have been better off staying part of Austria-Hungary after World War I. Today, I’m a Euro-federalist who would gladly burn my citizenship in exchange for a unified European identity.
Because of this, the societal or cultural dimensions of genocide are so far removed from what I value that I struggle to connect with them. To me, genocide is tied to the physical extermination of people, like the Holocaust or Rwanda. Using the term in the context of Gaza might be legally accurate, but it evokes a comparison that, in my opinion, doesn’t align with the reality on the ground.
I’m aware that the withholding of necessary resources didn’t start on October 7, 2023. It began right after control of the territory was taken over by an entity that has been extremely antagonistic toward Israel—Hamas. You could even say that this situation amounts to a state of war.
After Hamas took over Gaza in June 2007, Israel declared Gaza a "hostile entity" and imposed restrictions, including severe limitations on the movement of people and the entry of resources like gas, electricity, and food. Nutritional restrictions specifically began in 2007, as part of a blockade policy. During this time, Israeli authorities implemented what is now known as the "Red Lines" plan, which calculated the minimum caloric intake required to prevent malnutrition in Gaza’s population.
This policy, in effect until 2010, limited both the quantity and variety of food allowed into Gaza, contributing to significant food insecurity. While the "Red Lines" policy officially ended in 2010, various restrictions on goods and resources have continued, maintaining the economic and humanitarian challenges in the region.
These measures were part of a broader blockade aimed at isolating Hamas and preventing the smuggling of weapons into the territory. So, yes, it’s been the nature of the situation for over 15 years, coinciding with Hamas’s control.
Ok, let’s start with the issue of withholding electricity, water, and other necessities. That kind of makes sense, doesn’t it? When you’re at war with someone, isn’t it standard practice to sever services between two parties? If Monaco attacked France, would you honestly expect France to continue delivering water, electricity, and other resources to their enemy? Or if South Africa were at war with Lesotho, would you expect them to keep feeding their enemy with resources?
Look, I hate Russia—my country was occupied by them for 40 years, and I despise everything about Russian culture. But even I wouldn’t hold it against them for cutting off energy transport to Ukraine during a war. That’s just how wars operate. You don’t strengthen the hand of the party you’re fighting by continuing to provide resources.
And this has to be part of the calculation, right? When you attack someone, you can’t realistically expect them to keep supporting you. That’s beyond unreasonable. Expecting otherwise is not just naive but completely detached from how conflicts have always worked.
Now let’s talk about refugees. I believe no one can remain a refugee for five generations—it defies the very definition of the term. I choose this example because it’s within a cultural context I understand. I’m Czech, and my people were directly involved in the killing and expulsion of Germans after World War II.
During the Nakba in 1948, around 700,000 Palestinians were displaced from their homes, and an estimated 10,000–15,000 Palestinians were killed during the conflict.
In comparison, between 12 to 14 million ethnic Germans were expelled from Eastern and Central Europe after World War II, and estimates suggest that 500,000 to 2 million Germans died as a result of the expulsion—whether through direct violence, starvation, or disease.
These Germans were stripped of their property and sent to a devastated Germany. Yet they didn’t receive any special refugee status. They had the same rights as anyone else in Germany, and over time, they integrated into society.
Now, 80 years later, I live next to Germans without any problem. There’s no one shouting “Mein Wienerschnitzel!” while stabbing people in Sudetenland or blowing themselves up in protest. They moved on, even though the displacement was brutal and far-reaching.
I think this prolonged status of being a refugee has caused much more suffering than it has ever alleviated. Instead of creating conditions for integration and stability, it perpetuates a cycle of hardship, anger, and statelessness. This isn’t helping—it’s just keeping wounds open for generations.
About proportionality: I think this concept is absolutely flawed. It’s like me walking up to Mike Tyson and trying to punch him. He dodges, then starts beating my ass into the ground. If I then yell, "Hey! I only tried to punch you! This isn’t proportional or fair!" it would be completely absurd.
I understand that the notion to destroy Hamas and all perpetrators of October 7th is rational, right? In other words, I wouldn’t want to live in a country that just says, "Oh, you massacred my people? I’ll let this one slide, but you get a stern warning." I’m not a warmonger or nationalist in any sense of the word, but I would strongly propose returning to the tradition of defenestration and throwing anyone who lets it slide out of a window.
About the process of what’s happening: until Hamas is wiped out and all hostages are secured, I’m withholding judgment on the overall actions being taken. Hamas is the governing body in Gaza—they’re the ones making these decisions. If they were to return the hostages and dissolve themselves, and Israel continued such attacks, then my opinion would change drastically. But as of now, it’s a matter of rational cause and effect.
By the definition of international law, and after listening to Francesca Albanese, it is most likely genocide. I’m not disputing that—it meets the criteria as laid out in international law. However, my emotional reaction to the word "genocide" isn’t tied to its legal definition but to the context in which I associate the term.
When I hear "genocide," my mind immediately goes to events like the Holocaust or the Rwandan Genocide. I recently watched a documentary on Rwanda, and what’s happening in Gaza has nothing in common with that. The Rwandan Genocide was marked by the deliberate and rapid physical extermination of nearly a million people in just a few months. The scale, intent, and method of brutality are completely different from what we see in Gaza.
From what I understand, the use of "genocide" in this context focuses more on the societal and cultural aspects of the definition. That’s valid within international law, but frankly, I don’t care much about those aspects. I’ve never been someone who values national or cultural identity. I’m Czech, but I think we would have been better off staying part of Austria-Hungary after World War I. Today, I’m a Euro-federalist who would gladly burn my citizenship in exchange for a unified European identity.
Because of this, the societal or cultural dimensions of genocide are so far removed from what I value that I struggle to connect with them. To me, genocide is tied to the physical extermination of people, like the Holocaust or Rwanda. Using the term in the context of Gaza might be legally accurate, but it evokes a comparison that, in my opinion, doesn’t align with the reality on the ground.
You really don’t know a lot do you? Withholding necessary resources didn’t begin on 7 Oct 2023! It’s been the nature of their occupation.
I’m aware that the withholding of necessary resources didn’t start on October 7, 2023. It began right after control of the territory was taken over by an entity that has been extremely antagonistic toward Israel—Hamas. You could even say that this situation amounts to a state of war.
After Hamas took over Gaza in June 2007, Israel declared Gaza a "hostile entity" and imposed restrictions, including severe limitations on the movement of people and the entry of resources like gas, electricity, and food. Nutritional restrictions specifically began in 2007, as part of a blockade policy. During this time, Israeli authorities implemented what is now known as the "Red Lines" plan, which calculated the minimum caloric intake required to prevent malnutrition in Gaza’s population.
This policy, in effect until 2010, limited both the quantity and variety of food allowed into Gaza, contributing to significant food insecurity. While the "Red Lines" policy officially ended in 2010, various restrictions on goods and resources have continued, maintaining the economic and humanitarian challenges in the region.
These measures were part of a broader blockade aimed at isolating Hamas and preventing the smuggling of weapons into the territory. So, yes, it’s been the nature of the situation for over 15 years, coinciding with Hamas’s control.