Israel Notebook | 30 May 2019

I’m meant to be peering into a tunnel hacked out by Hamas a few hundred metres from Gaza City into Israeli territory but my attention has wandered. The air around us, above this parched, scrubby wasteland, is fecund with life. A pair of black kites are circling and below them a steppe buzzard is lumbering amidst the thermals. And is that a lappet-faced vulture? Do you know, even without my specs, I think it is. The IDF guy in charge of this facility wanders up. ‘You are interested in the birds, my frent? They too are political. The Palestinians put all their filth, their garbage, right up against the fence, as close to us as possible. As a result, many vermin and many hawks, some endangered elsewhere. There is always an upside to misery. Now, let us go below, please.’

Down, down, then, into a passage fashioned by the perpetually infuriated and frantically scrabbling Morlocks from a Neolithic culture. The idea is this. They spend a million quid and take a year to tunnel into the middle of a sunflower field, suddenly pop up, murder everyone within sight, and then run away. But it’s still only a tunnel — seen one, seen ’em all. I exit sharpish, bored. You’d think if they were that good at digging they might create for themselves a decent sewage system or maybe a road. Instead of a Day of Rage, a Day of Clearing Things Up A Bit. All that’s missing from the tunnel is a blue plaque with yellow stars: the European Union funded this. Or the United Nations. Through their myriad succour for perpetual victims funds.