On day 158, even starvation as a topping on genocide did not make the resistance, the idea before the soil from which it emerged, budge: the tribes of Gaza refuse to partake in any policy initiated from anyone other than the resistance factions. Even if it is a policy that is “branded” to put an end to their reality of starvation.
There is no room for morality in oppression. If the tribes did not budge, it is more likely because for some individuals, particularly in an environment resembling a besieged and tormented enclave, it is never about the “right” thing to do. It is more about the only thing there is to be done.
But this is merely an additional proposal, a new attempt concerning a new policy. What is policy? Whatever the answer is, it involves a choice. For it presumes “right or wrong” as seen by the “policy-maker:” a term more resembling of a social status than a professional title. In a way, policy involves a transformation, through “caprice” and “convenience” of said “policy-maker,” from the language of choice to the language of God: from the binary utopia of right or wrong to the absolute utopia of “the right.”
So even in a world where the Pope was beheaded right after the “state” was separated from the “church” into the bosom of the Central Bank, one reality persists: an impossibility lies in liberating the notions of “state” and “order” from the religious devotion of “policy-making.”
Contrasting the language of “choice” is the language of “lack.” If there’s no room for “policy” in armed struggle it is because the dictionary of the language of lack consists only of the words sufficient to make up the following sentence: what is necessary necessitates itself.
Justifying the events on October 7th as “the right thing to do” is as “left” as a “policy-maker” can get. By induction, nor was it intentions, “good or bad,” that incentivized it. It does not require a deep investigation to realize that if the quasi-state that the resistance factions were governing in Gaza for almost two decades had any form of future, whether for the best of its people or governing entity, then armed resistance would perish, and the tunnels would be destroyed by their own diggers.
But if popular struggle decided to gamble with its own life it is particularly because gambling is a sickness manifesting in disobedience and abolishment of “normalcy:” in this case, that of oppression. Through a simple translation, the same applies to all those who decided to join forces with the Palestinian resistance factions: in Yemen, Lebanon, and Iraq.
Irrelevant too is how easy or difficult it is to support the argument for necessity. Because that who says “we are all struggling in a way” would never comprehend the “other” who is struggling in every way. And that who appeals to the “best of two evils” cannot imagine the world of the singular, one evil: a boot stamping on a human face. In other words, an argument so easy to comprehend in the language of “lack.” Impossible on the other hand in the language of “choice.”