There has, yet again, been much ado about the delivery of humanitarian aid to Gaza—a gesture that, while filled with much fanfare, barely scratches the surface of the true situation. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz has trumpeted a coalition of Germany, Jordan, France, and the UK setting up an airlift to drop food and medical supplies into the region. One might almost mistake this for competence, though Merz hastens to point out the limited nature of the measure. He calls upon Israel to drastically improve conditions for the Palestinians, insists on the release of hostages by Hamas, and reels off the usual demands for a permanent ceasefire. Germany, of course, prefers to dwell in the theoretical—recognition of a Palestinian state remains for them some distant, “final move” in that endlessly hypothetical two-state solution. To further dress the stage, their foreign minister and esteemed development bureaucrats are off on visits and conferences, mulling future pressures that—one suspects—will always safely remain in the future.
Permit me a moment to reflect on this spectacle from my own, superior vantage. It is always somewhat amusing—if not tragic—to watch the great masses and their appointed functionaries scramble to fix what, by their own limited wits, they have invariably made worse. Aid drops make for touching images in the press and allow the political classes to posture morally before the cameras, but these trifling gestures are the humanitarian equivalent of flipping coins to beggars on the street. When it comes to true power and results, only those born and bred for responsibility are fit to execute transformative solutions. The rest strain under the illusion that their endless conferences, pious statements, and diplomatic junkets have any effect whatsoever.
As for Merz’s admonishments to Israel, one hesitates between a sneer and a yawn. The old continental powers never quite tire of instructing others how to behave, all the while ensuring their own interests are never genuinely endangered. Germany wagging its finger while refusing to commit to anything concrete—least of all genuine recognition of Palestinian statehood—is a dance everyone has seen a thousand times. How convenient to keep one’s hands clean, one’s conscience unsullied, and one’s privileges intact.
In the end, this is all rather predictable: a playacted tableau of concern, dignity, and action, drawn up by the well-meaning yet hopelessly provincial managers of a world that stubbornly refuses to behave according to the plans penciled in at conference tables. Perhaps if those with genuine pedigree and vision were allowed to sweep aside the bureaucratic rabble, we might one day see some semblance of order, peace, and progress. Until then, let the little people have their airlifts and press statements. The world will continue to run according to the dictates of those who matter—and that, after all, is as it should be.