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| “What we used to call ‘war’ is now called ‘genocide’. By the UN definition, our fathers and grandfathers were vicious war criminals. The Allied blockade of Germany in World War I? The bombing of Dresden in World War II? Acts of genocide. Crimes against humanity. No question.” |
HANNAH EYED THE FLAGS warily. Behind the bar a miniature Ukrainian flag had stood at attention since 2022. A few days earlier, however, a varsity student had asked her to position a miniature Palestinian flag alongside it. She’d stashed it under the bar. Now, one of her oldest patrons, Laurie, had presented her with an Israeli flag: “To keep the Ukrainians company”, he had said with a wink as she poured a pint of ale for him, and another for his best mate, Les.
“I’ll think about it”, she responded, passing him the brimming glasses on a tray.
“What did she say?” Les eyed the bar manager who was, he noticed, eyeing him back.
“She said she’d think about it.”
“Heh! I never had Hannah down as someone who’d try to have a bob both ways.”
“C’mon, Les, that’s not fair. This Israel/Palestine thing is so bloody polarising. If she puts up our little flag, then the pro-Palestine mob are certain to give her no end of grief.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve got a point there. I’ve participated in countless demonstrations over the years Laurie, but I’ve got to tell you, I’ve never encountered such passion.”
“I must confess, Les, I was surprised to see you marching alongside the keffiyeh-wearers.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have been. You should have known that my tolerance for Israel’s ‘collateral damage’ wasn’t likely to be limitless. There’s only so many images of mutilated women and children that I can look at without recalling the words of Mario Savio.”
“Which you’re about to quote me.”
Les straightened his back and jutted out his chin.
“‘There is a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart, that you can’t take part; you can’t even passively take part, and you’ve got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, and upon all the apparatus, and you’ve got to make it stop.’”
“Except that, neither you, Les, nor your passionate mates, can make the Israeli war machine stop. Because, you know as well as I do that the only body big enough to stop that apparatus belongs to Uncle Sam. And Uncle Sam doesn’t want to. Hell, it’s Uncle Sam who’s supplying Israel with the gears, the wheels, and the levers!”
“Yeah, well, I thought I had to try.”
“So, what changed your mind, Les? Why did you ask me to ask Hannah to put Israel’s flag alongside Ukraine’s?”
“Genocide.”
“Genocide?”
“I did some research and discovered that the UN’s Genocide Convention is so broad that the Allied Powers of both World Wars would have fallen foul of it. What we used to call ‘war’ is now called ‘genocide’. By the UN definition, our fathers and grandfathers were vicious war criminals. The Allied blockade of Germany in World War I? The bombing of Dresden in World War II? Acts of genocide. Crimes against humanity. No question.”
Laurie nodded.
“And just consider the metrics. In nearly two years of bitter urban warfare, Palestine has lost nearly 70,000 people – at least a third of them Hamas fighters. But, in just 100 days, Rwandan Hutu butchered 800,000 Tutsi. Dammit, Les! If both events merit the description of genocide, then the term has lost all meaning.”
“But the world doesn’t care, Laurie, which means that Hamas is winning this war. It set out to goad Benjamin Netanyahu’s government into lashing out against Gaza with such fury that the world would turn away from Israel in disgust. And its working, Laurie, it’s working. The UK, Canada, Australia: they’ve all recognized Palestinian statehood. No wonder Hamas is claiming victory!”
“What do you think Winston’s going to do? Follow suit?”
“God, I hope not, Laurie! Because if Palestine is a state, then the term, like genocide, is meaningless. I hope he’s been able to convince Cabinet that this country’s got more to gain by standing alongside Donald Trump than Keir Starmer. Who knows, it might be enough to persuade the President to lower his 15 percent tariff.”
Hannah watched the two old Boomers leave the pub. She’d overheard quite a lot of their discussion, and she was glad. It made her decision much easier. She tossed both flags, Israel’s and Palestine’s, into the bin.
“There you are,” she muttered, “the perfect two-state solution.”
This short story was originally published in The Otago Daily Times and The Greymouth Star of Friday, 26 September 2025.
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