I’ve been following the various letters regarding the Gaza/Israel crisis with some interest.
There have been so many attempts to broker a permanent cease-fire for the sake of the innocents, only for one side to start messing around again.
There are so many different people involved now, so much diplomacy and posturing on the world stage yet nothing works. It all seems so incredibly complicated and interwoven with history, religion, power, money, land rights and so on. I’ve thought long and hard on this and I put forward a solution to have it all sorted out in a day. Yes, a single day – maybe less.
It’s quite simple really. You get the leaders from Gaza and the leaders of Israel and put them in a room with a mother who has reached week 5 of a rather rainy school summer holiday and is on the wrong side of cranky. Preferably this mother is from the 1970s, like mine – before all the reasoning with children and “naughty steps” came along.
The first thing to happen would be a quick clip round the ear for both parties just to burst egos and let them know who was in charge. Any bickering about who fired first would be controlled with a sharp “Quiet! Enough!” and a pointed finger, gritted teeth, tense jaw and a look that would stop a charging bear at 50 paces. They would then be told to either live with or forget who first did what to whom and to simply behave themselves “starting now”. There would be a short lecture on how they should stop punching each other and learning to play nicely together – or not play at all.
Voice volume would then increase and there would be a statement about how sick and tired she was of their behaviour and how patience was wearing thin enough to see through. From bowed heads and quivering lips would come a promise to do as they were told and then they would be sent on their way. And woe betide anyone who gave her cause to raise her voice again. Job done.
As for the West and the East who supply both sides with weapons, they are only interested in profit and don’t care who dies. They remind me of teenagers who would sell cigarettes to younger children on the council estate where I grew up. Once again – send in that Mother! A quick frog-march to that person’s front door and they would be left in no doubt about what would happen if they put a cigarette anywhere near their offspring again.
And when that front door shut you would hear that teenager’s parents giving them another dressing down... so I’m told.
I’m sure my own mother would offer assistance to the peace process given the chance. She may be nearing 80, slight of build and 5ft-nothing but I am in no doubt that she would still give me a clip round the ear if I did something daft. All the UK government would need to do was make damned sure they recorded all episodes of Countdown and Deal Or No Deal while she was away. Cheap, if you ask me.