Two new titles related to the Gaza conflict are both written by journalists at the liberal daily Ha’aretz, Israel’s paper of record, but the two books differ greatly in both content and style.
The Killing of Gaza: Reports on a Catastrophe by Gideon Levy is a selection from his articles in Ha’aretz spanning the last decade and include the period of the first few months of the war that began on October 7th, 2023. Most relate to Gaza but contain no actual war coverage from there because Israelis are prevented from entering the strip. Other articles cover the West Bank and Israel.
Amir Tibon’s book, The Gates of Gaza: A Story of Betrayal, Survival, and Hope in Israel’s Borderlands, is a first-person account of how his father, a retired IDF general, dropped everything on the morning of October 7th and rushed from Tel Aviv to rescue Amir and his family after the kibbutz they live on, Nahal Oz, was overrun by Hamas militants. In parallel, it tells the story of the farming community on the Gaza border in the context of the wider conflict.
Levy is almost a lone voice in Israeli journalism. His weekly Ha’aretz column focuses on abuses committed by soldiers and settlers against Palestinians in the West Bank. A fierce critic of the occupation, his acerbic style and use of language (for instance, his description of Israel as an apartheid state), together with his support for international boycotts against the country, wins him few friends here in Israel. One example, of many, from his book: “It’s not easy to say this, it’s hard to write it, but any vote for a Zionist party is a vote for a continued tyranny posing as a democracy.”
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Levy highlights in the book the almost across-the-board support in Israel for the war in Gaza following the Hamas massacres on October 7th. He visited the Israeli communities along the border and writes with empathy after speaking with the residents but criticises Israel’s military response.
“This then is a very special war, a war that faces no opposition or criticism within Israel,” Levy writes. “Israel’s cruellest war has also turned out to be a war based on almost complete consensus. To most Israelis, everything became permissible and legitimate, even morally acceptable.”
And the traditionally robust, free press in Israel became part of that consensus, Levy contends. “The Israeli media donned fatigues, saluted the army and began to toe the line,” he observes. “Only one specific reality is being concealed from Israelis: the reality of Gaza. Life and death in this stricken land is not covered in the newspapers, and it’s not on TV. The tens of thousands of dead and wounded; the complete obliteration of entire sections of the Strip; the indiscriminate killing, the blind shelling and bombing.”
The humanitarian disaster, Levy argues, is not covered in Israel.
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At times Levy sounds like a conspiracy theorist, uncovering crimes perpetrated by an evil government that conceals the truth from the public. He forgets that almost every single Israeli household has sons and other relatives fighting at the front, who come back on leave with descriptions of what is happening in Gaza (and the same goes for south Lebanon today). Israelis also have access via TV and computer to dozens of foreign media outlets (although Al Jazeera was recently blocked). The fact remains that Israelis do know what’s happening in Gaza but blame Hamas for the death and destruction wrought there in the year since October 7th, 2023.
Levy criticises the economic blockade Israel imposed on Gaza but fails to mention that the funds and building materials that did reach the coastal enclave were used to build the vast tunnel network where hostages have been kept for more than a year.
It’s been 18 years since Levy last visited Gaza but he remains a frequent visitor to the West Bank. The chapters describing the harsh daily reality of life under occupation are an eye-opener, if, at times, somewhat repetitive. Yes, the occupation is problematic: the question is, how to bring it to end without leading to more violence. Israel’s unilateral withdrawals from south Lebanon and Gaza are not exactly examples that inspire confidence among the average Israeli in the possibility of peaceful coexistence and a better future.
One column, written in December, is entitled Would Israel Be Any Different Without Netanyahu?. For Levy the answer is a resounding no. He notes that the “Anyone But Bibi” camp - most of the Ha’aretz readership - tend to pin all the blame, including for the events that led to October 7th, on him. “But are there any leaders in Israel who would act in a fundamentally different way toward Gaza and the Palestinians? No way,” Levy writes. “There are enough things for which, had it not been for Netanyahu, Israel would have been a better place, but lifting the curse of the occupation and the siege [on Gaza] is not one of them.”
Less than a mile from the border fence, kibbutz Nahal Oz is officially the closest Israeli community to Gaza. A tight-knit community of only 400 people, it’s so close to Gaza that Israel’s air defence systems don’t have enough time to warn of incoming projectiles.
Tibon and his wife Miri were woken on the morning of October 7th by the whistling sounds of incoming mortar bombs, and rushed to the safe room, which doubles as the bedroom for their two young daughters, aged three and one.
Such a scenario is not unusual on Nahal Oz, but this time it was different. After 15 minutes the electricity was cut off and then they heard the sound of automatic gunfire, followed by shouting in Arabic.
“At 7.10 one of our neighbours sent a message to the WhatsApp group: “Hamas has invaded the kibbutz,” Tibon writes. “Another neighbour wrote: “There’s gunfire in the neighbourhood. They’re here.” A third wrote: “Where’s the army? How come nobody is coming?”
That question remains unanswered to this day.
Tibon recounts that when the gunmen fired into their house they knew they were in immediate danger of either been killed or kidnapped to Gaza. The first priority was to keep the girls quiet so as not to attract the attention of the gunmen.
At 8.30am Tibon’s father Noam, who lives in Tel Aviv, a one-hour drive from the kibbutz, called him from the car: “Don’t get out of the safe room no matter what. We’re coming to get you out of there.”
Gali, Noam’s wife insisted on joining him on the dangerous trip south and on driving so that Noam could use his phone in an effort to try make contact with other generals he knew. Close to Gaza they picked up a desperate young couple fleeing for their lives from the Nova music festival, which had also come under attack from Hamas gunmen. The parents drove through fields to avoid Israeli police roadblocks as officers blocked all roads to what was by now a war zone.
By midmorning there were hundreds of Hamas gunmen fanning out through the kibbutz. The small kibbutz security team was desperately engaging them together with a small number of police snipers who, luckily, had been billeted at Nahal Oz. The IDF were nowhere to be seen.
Dozens of bodies littered the road to Nahal Oz: Israeli civilians, Israeli soldiers and police and Hamas gunmen. The charred remains of abandoned cars were everywhere. The parents didn’t know what to do. To continue towards the kibbutz was probably a death sentence. Despite the danger, they decided they had to try rescue their granddaughters otherwise they would never be able to forgive themselves. There was no turning back. They headed south, swerving to avoid the corpses and abandoned vehicles on the road.
Back in the dark safe room with no food or water, Amir made a promise to his girls: “If we all stay quiet, Saba - Hebrew for grandfather - will come and get us out of here.”
Half of Tibon’s book is devoted to the dramatic story of the parents’ journey that day as it enfolds, encompassing acts of heroism and events that would be rejected for a screenplay as implausible. The publisher’s blurb describes the book as “gripping”: they are not wrong.
The second half of the book recounts the history of Nahal Oz and its pioneering farmers, who, despite being overwhelmingly left wing and in favour of coexistence with their Palestinian neighbours (like most kibbutzniks), have been forced to defend their small community from cross-border attacks since Nahal Oz was founded in 1954.
So, two very different books related to Gaza. One reads like a thriller, a page-turner full of danger and bravery but nonetheless a true story, which also paints the bigger picture with its descriptions of the people and history of Nahal Oz. The other presents a specific narrative that is challenging, particularly for supporters of Israel, but tends to repeat itself in book form.
Mark Weiss is a contributor to The Irish Times based in Jerusalem.
Further reading
The Land of Hope and Fear: Israel’s Battle for its Inner Soul (Scribe, 2023) by Isabel Kershner, a veteran New York Times Jerusalem correspondent, came out just before the Gaza war. An insightful look at the Israeli people at a critical juncture in their country’s history, using interviews with a host of lively characters that give a flavour of the rich tapestry of the various tribes making up contemporary Israel.
Start-up Nation: The Story of Israel’s Economic Miracle by Dan Senor and Saul Singer (Twelve, 2009) remains a must-read for those wanting to understand what makes Israel, surrounded by enemies and with no natural resources, a high-tech power house. The international best seller, along the way, tells the history and culture of this unique nation.
Rise and Kill First: The Secret History of Israel’s Targeted Assassinations (John Murray, 2018) by respected journalist Ronen Bergman is the definitive history of Israel’s targeted assassinations of its enemies, although events over the last few months have created enough material for an entire new book.
