Article
Comment
Gaza
Middle East
5 min read

The human cost of the Israel-Gaza war

A veteran volunteer surgeon laments a well lived life.

Tim Goodacre is a reconstructive plastic surgeon, and volunteer at a hospital in Gaza.

A young doctor wearing scrubs smiles.
AbdulRahman at work.
Tim Goodacre.

The Israel-Gaza war rages on. Every few days a new tragedy hits our dulled senses. The West Bank and now Lebanon are getting dragged into the conflict. Palestinians and hostages continue to die, and hunger and disease threaten Gaza's displaced people as autumn and winter approach. 

Yet what is often lost is the human face of this conflict. This is the story of one such life. 

AbdulRahman was an intelligent, gentle and diligent young third year medical student in his early twenties, with judgement well beyond his peers. Towards the end of 2023, as the war spread more viciously towards southern Gaza, he was one a group of around 10 students who volunteered to join the team of health care workers at the European Gaza Hospital (EGH). I was volunteering there as a reconstructive plastic surgeon and and met him in the hospital.

Both medical schools in Gaza before the war began were in the north alongside their parent universities. They had been destroyed during the onslaught in the early months of fighting. In the southern town of Khan Younis, the EGH was the sole surviving operational facility to which the wounded could be transferred. It was overwhelmed by the vast numbers of families also taking refuge in what was deemed a safer space than most of the surrounding war zone.  

Many of the senior medical staff and surgeons had retreated to scattered parts of the strip, displaced frequently by the ever-moving conflict and driven by the need to support their families and stay together. ‘Live together-die together’ is an understandable feature in the horror show of war. Students, frequently left with no money or resources, started to volunteer to serve in hospitals in exchange for a little food and a sense of worth in the work they could offer. Any functioning hospital, if briefly ‘deconflicted’ so they could provide relatively safe care, found itself staffed by a disparate crew of local staff, displaced students, and an indeterminate number of more senior surgeons from both Gaza and humanitarian agencies. 

His desire to learn all that could be learnt, and to try to become the best surgeon possible, was palpable.

It was into this chaotic mix that young AbdulRahman walked having fled his family home in the east of Khan Younis in November 2023. A bright young man, with great aspirations to qualify as a surgeon and serve his community, he had spent the first six weeks of the war at home, unable to attend his medical school in Gaza City to the north, but working hard at his studies regardless, using every online and library resource available to him.  

At some point in late November, the battle zone moved south, and his family home was shelled along with many dwellings in the vicinity. Caught in crossfire, he sheltered in his neighbouring relative’s house after his parents and other close family had escaped to Rafah. 

Abdulrahman told me the dramatic story of his escape into the house in which he survived for a week alongside his relative’s family when I spoke to him in late January 2024. This young man not only survived an ordeal of indescribable fear and potential slaughter, but he was then arrested and interrogated in brutal fashion by IDF forces.  

On his release after a harrowing week, he made his way barefoot to the nearest hospital, which happened to be the EGH. In that place of safety, he was given food and water and after recuperation, volunteered to work alongside a reconstructive plastic and burns surgeon who had recently returned to Gaza after training in the UK. 

Although his family were still all alive in Rafah in displaced makeshift shelters, he opted to stay and throw his weight into whatever he could do to support the hospital whilst continuing to learn his profession as a doctor. Travelling occasionally at great personal risk to see and support his family, he devoted all his waking hours to surgical work in EGH operating theatres and wards. His excellent command of English made him immensely valuable to any visiting surgeons who managed to access Gaza during the war months. He was always cheerful, always willing to respond to requests for his time, however stressful the surrounding clamour from desperate patients and relatives might become.  

When his working day was done, in the middle of the night he would arrange for his fellow students to have informal teaching seminars from whoever he could cajole to deliver them, and would absorb knowledge and ideas about best practice like a sponge. His desire to learn all that could be learnt, and to try to become the best surgeon possible, was palpable.  

I had every intention of supporting this fine young man in achieving his professional aspirations by whatever means I could once a ceasefire arose and he could be brought safely to Europe to continue his training. 

In the last week of August, AbdulRahman was sheltering in a relative’s house in Khan Younis. In the small hours of the morning an Israeli attack was launched on the neighbourhood and the house took a direct hit. AbdulRahman was killed instantly. 

He knew, as does every Gazan in these troubled times, that nowhere was safe, and all lives in that tragic zone are at risk. His is a story of a life tragically cut short, of the randomness and destructiveness of war. His death strikes right at the heart of my hopes for the remnant of the fine young population of such a desperately sad nation state. He, and those like him, could have been at the heart of the re-building of Gaza, able to live in what now feels a far-off peace. I cannot translate this into anger, as AbdulRahman himself had a passionate concern for peace and reconciliation, and never once spoke to me in many conversations of support for Hamas, or of hatred for those who had destroyed his country.  

What can be done however, is to honour his life and commitment with similar tenacity in supporting the pursuit of peace, justice for his people, learning and education for the remnant of the nation, and reconstruction of a Palestine that can proudly and honourably reflect the finest values it possesses. AbdulRahman was a great Palestinian, and his all too short life was one which I want to celebrate as one of the finest I have seen in many students of the next generation of doctors. May he rest in peace, and may a lasting peace come quickly to Gaza, to all of Palestine and the whole of the Middle East.

Article
Comment
Politics
Sport
5 min read

Bad blood is damaging both football and politics

Are we all in the stands baying for blood?
A view from a football stand over heads to the pitch.
Steven Collomb-Clerc on Unsplash.

Am I going mad? It definitely feels like I’m going mad. Let me tell you two tales, one about an ugly football match, the other about the early release of a ‘political’ prisoner’. It feels as if society, not just the fans in the stands, are baying for blood. I’m mad about it. Here's why. 

There’s been little love lost between my team Liverpool and their recent opponents Newcastle United. 

Liverpool’s crime? Wanting to buy Newcastle’s striker, Alexander Isak. How dare they! 

If reports are to be believed – and everything should be viewed with raised eyebrows when it comes to football transfers – Isak informed Newcastle of his desire leave at the end of last season and was given assurances he would be able to. Liverpool, with no recognised striker following Diogo Jota’s death placed a bid of around £110 million.  

A British transfer record fee. As an opening bid. A fee subsequently described as “disrespectful.” I feel like I’m going mad. If anyone would like to ‘disrespect’ me with £110,000,000, please let me know and I’ll send you my bank details.  

The game’s turning point is a tackle by Newcastle’s Anthony Gordon on Virgil Van Dijk, Liverpool’s captain, just before half-time. 

Gordon comes flying in, studs up, raking the back of Van Dijk’s leg. It is a deeply unprofessional tackle from Gordon. A cynical attempt to hurt a colleague with no discernible attempt to win the ball. It’s a tackle that’s beneath him, frankly.  

By the time Anthony Gordon lunges in, the tone of the match is clear: we’re here to cause harm to anyone in a red shirt. (And the Newcastle fans are still in the stands cheering them on). 

At the end of the day, I’m just glad Liverpool won. But I am genuinely baffled and alarmed by the amount of normally level-headed people who became intent on causing harm because of a (potential) transfer. Bad blood is flowing, indeed rushing to the head of many of them. 

Most of all, I’m glad Liverpool won because, when I say what I’m about to say, you know it’s not coming from a place of bitterness that my football team lost a match. Because another story this week has left me feeling like I’m going mad: the release of Lucy Connolly from prison

In July 2024, three young girls were stabbed to death at a dance class in Southport. In the aftermath, amid (false) reports that the killer was an asylum seeker, riots broke out across the country as people targeted mosques, asylum seeker accommodation, and even libraries.  

In the midst of this, Lucy Connolly – whose husband was, at the time, a Conservative county councillor – tweeted: 

“Mass deportation now, set fire to all the [f***ing] hotels full of the [b***ards] for all I care, while you’re at it take the treacherous government & politicians with them. I feel physically sick knowing what these families will now have to endure. If that makes me racist, so be it.” 

Having left prison, Connolly told The Telegraph that she was a “political prisoner” and that Keir Starmer “needs to look at what people's human rights are, what freedom of speech means and what the laws are in this country.”  

The irony of her saying this in an interview with a national newspaper was apparently lost on her. 

Am I going mad? It definitely feels like I’m going mad.  

Lucy Connolly encouraged people to burn down hotels with people inside. To spill blood. She pleaded guilty to inciting racial hatred by publishing and distributing ‘threatening or abusive’ written material on X. She literally admitted to doing this in a court of law.  

But she is now being hailed in some quarters as a political martyr and champion of free speech. Let’s have it right: you are free to say what you want, but you are not free from the consequences of your speech. Whether you like it or not, migrants and asylum seekers are made in the image of God, as we all are, and are beloved by the creator of the universe. None of us has the right to end their lives. Incitement of violence towards them is rightly a crime.  

She deserves to be in prison.  

The people who rioted last year are ultimately responsible for their actions. But Lucy Connolly – and everyone else who incited violence in the aftermath of the Southport attacks – is also partly to blame for cultivating a society in which thugs feel as though that is an acceptable course of action. Now she is released from prison, every media outlet, every interviewer, every politician who repeats her reality-defying nonsense without challenge is as culpable as she is for fostering this climate of violence. This is before we even begin to talk about the record numbers of asylum seekers who have already died in our care.  

It was ultimately Anthony Gordon’s stupid decision to go in studs-up on Van Dijk. But referee Simon Hooper and the Newcastle fans should reflect on their part in fostering a climate of violence in which Gordon’s felt his decision was reasonable, too. 

We are all Simon Hooper. We are all the referee. When we allow rhetoric to become calls for violence, this has real-world consequences. People get hurt and killed. Blood is spilled. We are all responsible for the society in which we live, and the rhetoric of the debate that occurs therein.  

It’s not just febrile Newcastle fans that are losing their grip on reality: there seems to be a society-wide willingness simply to bypass the concrete facts of reality to further personal ideologies. The more people like Lucy Connolly are rehabilitated by media whitewashing, the more statements like “set fire to all the [f***ing] hotels full of the [b***ards] … if that makes me racist, so be it” become acceptable, the less safe the most vulnerable in society become and the more likely they are to be killed.  

That’s the nub of it. Lucy Connolly should be in prison because what she said leads to people being killed. No-one should have been surprised when Anthony Gordon went in on Van Dijk that night. No-one should feign surprise when migrants and asylum seekers are eventually killed on the basis of rumour and misinformation. Because they will be. And because we will all have been cheering on from the stands. 

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