Gaza genocide - we will never look away

As we do every Saturday, citizens of the North East turned out to protest the genocide in Gaza and to demand an end to the UK government complicity in it through supplying arms to Israel. Also to bear witness to the atrocities and the brutality of the Israeli government and the IDF. 

I wanted to post my speech from today's Gaza demo as it includes the moving and powerful words of my Facebook friend Samir, who is living in Gaza amidst the genocide.

It was also the first demo since a direct action group was proscribed as terrorists and comes as almost 600 Gazans have been murdered trying to get food aid.

"Kate Ramsden, SPSC

It has been some week. We are officially through the looking glass, where those that criticise genocide, and those that take action to end the UK government’s complicity in genocide - are the ones facing terrorism charges.

While those that commit genocide – Israel; the IDF – are home free – they pull the strings and like Pinocchio, our government jumps

Where chanting “Death to the IDF” – a brutal military organisation that every day is murdering innocent citizens and children, for God’s sake and targeting medics and journalists with utter impunity – is deemed antisemitic. I mean what?

Many of us here will have watched Doctors Under Fire, bravely shown by Channel 4 whilst the BBC – that mouthpiece for Israel – refused to screen it.

It was harrowing but showed, without any doubt, what most of us here have always known – that the IDF is targeting medics and medical facilities in direct contravention of the Geneva Convention – a war crime.

So respect to Bob Vylan I say! Respect to Kneecap!

And can you believe that Labour MPs lined up to proscribe a Palestine direct action group?

In the most supreme of ironies, women Labour MPs had just before gathered to commemorate the Suffragette movement – specifically the Women’s Social and Political Union – yes the ones who became known for civil disobedience and direct action– who broke the law to make their points, who smashed shop windows and committed arson – now commemorated for their role in securing women’s suffrage. The epitome of hypocrisy!

There is no doubt that this is the latest episode in a government crackdown on our right to protest.

In a global ranking of freedom of expression published this week, the UK is no longer considered an “open” country and is ranked alongside Colombia, Nigeria and Romania.

No news to any of us here!

And all the while this takes the public’s eyes off Gaza where the suffering and genocide continues apace. Where displaced Gazans are starving then being slaughtered when they queue for aid. Where the bombardment and targeting of entire families continues.

And on the West Bank, murders, arrests, surveillance, displacement make lives for Palestinians under occupation unbearable.

Israel continues to act with impunity, our government continues to supply them with weapons and banks like Barclays continue to bankroll weapons companies.

But we will not allow a distraction from the barbarity of the Israeli government and the IOF; from the complicity of our government. We will not look away. We will bear witness and we will not allow state repression to silence our voices in solidarity with Palestine

We will not let the people of Gaza and the West Bank become statistics – but for an accident of birth that could be us. These could be our children. Bleeding, starving, grieving, dying. And we need to get that message across at every opportunity because their suffering is unbearable. 

I have a facebook friend, Samir, who lives with his mother, wife and three daughters in Gaza. Before October 2023 he was a teacher in Rafah. He wrote this for me to read out.

“I am not sure how to start or where to begin, what to say and what to leave unsaid. If I spend my lifetime depicting what we have been through, it won't be enough to tell you one third of what we experience.

It is not easy to describe the atrocities, starvation, death, and devastation we have faced—what we call genocide—in just a few words. It has been one year, nine months, and three days; a total of 639 days. No one on Earth could endure what we have experienced.

The last time I saw the debris—the remains of my shattered home—was almost a year ago. I returned to find nothing but havoc, ashes, and painful memories. I saw the paintings and notebooks of my little daughters, who once asked me to bring them all their belongings. Instead, I came back carrying only failure and disappointment.

My wife had asked me to retrieve some kitchen utensils for our makeshift shelter, but all I found were burnt plates and bowls. My mother longed for some of her clothes, but I unearthed nothing but tattered, charred remnants. I searched through the rubble, dug deep into the ground—yet all I found was despair and hopelessness.

When I was forced to evacuate, I carried nothing but some clothes and a few tins of food, believing I would return and rebuild my life there. It has now been almost two years, and I am still waiting.

My home has been completely leveled to the ground. It took years of hard work, suffering, and exhaustion to build it, and it was reduced to dust in an instant. My daughters' dreams, laughter, aspirations, and memories seem lost forever.

They often ask me when they will be able to return to Rafah, the city where they were born and raised. Could you answer them on my behalf? Could you tell them that Rafah no longer exists? Could you inform them that their cozy home has left no trace? Could you explain that our journey of displacement knows no end? I have evacuated four times so far. Each time, we lose a part of our humanity, dignity, and identity.

Long ago, we used to laugh at a joke asking, "What does it mean to have meat?" We never dreamed that karma would render the question painfully real. What does bread mean? What does soup mean? What do biscuits mean?

Forget about safety; we no longer care about that. It is meaningless to seek safety when all of Gaza is subjected to nonstop bombardment, shelling, and rockets 24/7. Safety means nothing when you have nothing to eat.

My family and I are crammed into a small room where privacy, safety, and comfort are mere illusions. We die a thousand times a day, and no one can halt the atrocities against us. We even wish for death to arrive quickly.

Imagine your little daughters asking you not about their dreams or hopes, not about their breakfast or lunch, not about their toys or paintings, but instead, "What is death like? What will happen if they shoot us or strike us? Will we die quickly? Is it painful to die?" If you can answer my little daughters' questions, I will be forever grateful.”

That is Samir’s reality in Gaza, Palestine. That is why we keep coming here week on week. For Samir and his daughters and all the other people living in Gaza, the children without parents, the parents whose children have been killed or maimed in the cruellest of ways. We bear witness. We do not look away. We will not look away.

Thank you"