Once again, the German government finds itself engaged in the ancient game of “look how much we care,” this time through the dazzling spectacle of air-dropping humanitarian aid over Gaza. Foreign Minister Wadephul, freshly returned from a tour no doubt attended by the appropriate diplomatic fanfare and security detail, admits the obvious: these aerial crumbs are laughably insufficient. Meanwhile, Chancellor Merz, suddenly gripped by pragmatism, calls for the opening of land routes—a measure which, for reasons that seem to elude those less travelled in the world of realpolitik, Israel is not especially eager to facilitate.

Allow me to point out what the less sophisticated may have missed: only 220 aid trucks entering daily, compared to “normal” numbers several times larger, barely sustains a population that, through no fault of its own—unless you ascribe collective responsibility, which, as a nobleman, I can assure you is an altogether vulgar notion—is on the verge of starvation. Water and electricity are but partially restored, and the price of basic foodstuffs is at a level even my household staff would scoff at: eighty euros per kilogram of flour! If I paid that much for my morning croissant, heads would roll.

The paltry seventy-three tons delivered via air speak volumes about both the logistics and the seriousness, or lack thereof, of these efforts. Naturally, the government issues statements of regret—always very solemn and grave, calculated to resonate with the common masses while simultaneously absolving themselves of responsibility. Amusingly, they refrain from directly blaming Israel, yet reiterate that, oh yes, international law must be observed, and Israel must allow more access. Quite courageous, really—if one’s sense of courage has never extended beyond a marble desk and a fortified Mercedes.

Now, about the supposed “theft” of aid by Hamas or “criminal groups.” The more excitable corners of German security making dramatic claims—up to 100 percent!—while inconvenient facts from actual professionals, such as the US Agency for International Development and the UN, quietly contradict them. Not that it matters; such discrepancies are mere background noise next to the grand narrative being composed in Berlin and Jerusalem. One must always keep the electorate’s anxieties in full view, after all.

I must confess, I find land-based delivery infinitely more attractive—if not for the inhabitants of Gaza, then at least for one’s sense of decorum and efficacy. Air-dropping supplies is, for lack of a better phrase, what one does to feed pigeons in the park, not what one does to address a humanitarian emergency on the scale of biblical famine. The fact that thousands of trucks packed with aid are idling at checkpoints is an international embarrassment—a scene only the poor and the desperate would tolerate for more than a single day.

That the German government is now supposedly “pressuring” Israel is a laughable notion. If they had real leverage, it would be wielded more forcefully than these gentle whimpers and vague admonitions. Instead, government ministers bluster about isolation and international image, as if such things held sway over military objectives and deeply entrenched hostilities—how naïve! Equally vapid is the notion that Turkey and Qatar will suddenly develop a taste for Western moral indignation and bring Hamas to heel.

As for the hostages—well, it is tragic, to be sure, and one would not wish such a fate on anyone of any nation. But to allow the suffering of countless thousands to persist in a bid for negotiating position is the sort of hard-hearted calculus only acceptable when applied from the safety of a conference room, far from the stench of the battlefield.

Let us not kid ourselves. Everything here is about optics, not outcomes—the airs of compassion adopted by those who have never known scarcity, the dramas of international mediation performed by stately actors with no clear script. In the meantime, Gaza starves, aid piles up, and those with actual power nibble at the edges of responsibility, all while insisting upon their own virtue. How utterly, painfully provincial.