From the Maccabean Revolt and the Jewish-Roman Wars, through the Crusades, the Ottoman-Mamluk

War, and all the way to the Israel-Arab and Six-Day Wars, it's been attacked and invaded,

defended and died for, time and time and time again.

The clearest cause as to why, is this: Jerusalem. 

From the perspective of geography, this city shouldn't exist.

Propped upon hills and positioned 30 miles or 48 kilometers from the nearest major body

of water, twenty miles or 32 kilometers away from the nearest major river, and without

a single river of any sort running through it, this city is dry.

Without water, Jerusalem is without a prosperous trading harbor, it's without close proximity

to maritime shipping routes, it's without any real industrial base, it's even without

easy access to drinking water. 

Within the walls of the old city are populations that represent four separate cultures and

three separate religions.

And within these walls are also some of the very holiest sites to the three religions—Christianity,

Islam, and Judaism: the world's two largest, and the oldest monotheistic religion, respectively.

Because of what's said to have happened here, who's said to have passed through

here, and what's been built in their honor here, Jerusalem, sitting high and dry in the

Judean Mountains, has served as the center of the world for three massive, powerful groups

of faith for more than 2,000 years.

And thus, it's been fought over, often under the guise of religion, but importantly, rarely

solely because of religion—a case where the simplest explanation is not always the

right explanation.

Whether wars of empire building in the past, or state building in the present, religion's

only part of the story. 

Today, as it has been for nearly a century, it's not three religions, but rather two

nations fighting over the common territory that one group asserts as Palestine and the

other asserts as Israel.

After decades of attacks on one another, failed negotiations and peace talks, terrorism, and

outright war, the outlines of the conflict between two nations promised the territory

nearly a century ago looks like this: Israel, a rich, western power controlling all the

land between Egypt, Jordan, and Lebanon; and Palestine as just these swaths of land often

mired by shading or striping on maps to designate its status as a mere partially recognized

state by the UN.

Despite their shared landscapes, Israel and Palestine are a world apart.

Quality of life in Palestine is considered, according to the UNs human development index,

roughly analogous to that of its neighbors, Egypt and Lebanon.

Israel, meanwhile, almost exactly matches the United States's HDI.

From an income perspective, it's even starker—on a per-person basis, Palestinians earn just

a third of what their neighbors in Egypt and Lebanon do, while Israelis are on average

some of the wealthiest people in the world, bringing in about what South Korean or British

people do.

This imbalance of wealth is both a symptom and a cause of the imbalance of power between

the two nations that is now just about as lopsided as it's ever been, making an already

contentious relationship all the more combustible.

In consequence, a number of militant groups have arisen to fight both for an independent

Palestinian state and against the continued contraction of Palestinian land. 

This grows the disconnect even further.

On one side of the walls there is a high-income, developed, westernized, cosmopolitan nation—centered

by one of the wealthiest, most globally interconnected cities in the world.

On the other—mere miles away—are active, growing militant groups with the stated goal

of the destruction of the state of Israel.

In Tel Aviv there are people staying at $500 a night five-star hotels, eating at $100 a

plate fine-dining restaurants, then heading to exclusive nightclubs with globe-spanning

DJs, while just a one-hour drive south there are rocket-laden militants working day and

night to plot their deaths. 

To maintain this disconnect, Israel has, through the years, developed a sophisticated system

of security to protect its citizens while keeping Palestinian life into the enclaves

it permits.

While this extends nation-wide, nowhere is this more relevant than with the Hamas-controlled

Gaza Strip.

Gaza is a territory encircled on all sides by security—not just in two directions,

but three.

Israel's mission is near-complete control of what goes in and out so that the Israeli

state is entirely isolated from the activities of its captive neighbor.

This starts with a wall.

Above ground it extends some twenty or so feet or six or so meters, then below ground

it extends a certain amount too.

Following the discovery of a vast network of Hamas tunnels used to infiltrate Israel—and,

in one dramatic case, kidnap a soldier who was then held for ransom—the country spent

five years and a billion dollars building an underground wall of an undisclosed depth

to make it more difficult for Hamas to cross under the border.

As a second layer of protection, they developed a system of sensors to unveil any attempts

as well. 

Above ground, Israel sets strict rules to keep Gazans, what they consider, a safe distance

away—nobody's allowed within 300 feet or 100 meters of the border; while only farmers

are allowed within 1,000 feet or 300 meters, and only by foot.

On the other side, Israel has a network of guard towers with remote monitoring equipment

like cameras and radar to inform the Israel Defense Forces when an attempted incursion

is occurring.

As perhaps the most dystopian feature of all, Israel has a fleet of remotely-operated, self-driving

machine gun robots that patrol the area, notify the IDF of potential threats, then allow for

remote operation—firing a slew of bullets towards Gaza to maim or kill any targets without

the need for any human soldier to leave their chairs at their base.

While Israel only borders Gaza on its northern and eastern sides, it's exerted at least

a certain degree of control on its southern and western too.

Gaza borders Egypt on the southern side, but for a period of a few decades the Sinai Peninsula

was under Israeli Military Occupation.

In exchange for its return in 1979, Egypt agreed to build a border with Gaza.

To accomplish this, they split Rafah in half—separating one city into two through its core, separating

families, communities, and businesses.

Today, movement is only allowed through the Rafah border crossing which closes quickly

whenever Israel-Gaza tensions heat up—Egypt wary to let a deluge of refugees in, partially

given the impact the depopulation of Gaza would have on the Palestinian mission of statehood

that it supports. 

On its western side, the territory of Gaza borders the Mediterranean Sea but, unlike

almost every other territory in the world, it does not control its own coast—Israel

does.

The country forms a box around a slice of the sea and allows a select number of Gazans

to fish in it, but no more—the Israeli Navy patrols and prevents any ships from going

in or out without their approval.

It's the same situation with the airspace—Israel controls it completely and regularly flies

combat and surveillance aircraft over the territory.

But that's largely irrelevant because they destroyed Gaza's only airport in 2001 during

an outbreak of violence.

So today, the only legal ways in or out of Gaza are the sporadically open Rafah and Kerem

Shalom crossings on the southern border; and the even less reliable Erez crossing, on the

northern border with Israel.

This is a crucial lifeline for Gaza—while the Rafah crossing opens to a friendlier country

for Palestinians, the neighboring section of Egypt is sparsely populated so when, for

example, someone needs access to higher-level medical care, Israel or the Palestinian West

Bank are the most likely destinations.

But there is no functional right to travel for Palestinians between Gaza and the separated

West Bank, so even when heading to East Jerusalem for treatment, patients are required to gain

a permit from Israel. 

Only two-thirds of applications, which only happen after a doctor in Gaza refers a patient

for higher-level care, are approved in the time needed, and Israel uses the difficulty

of travel it manufactures to gain a leg up with its security: patients and others who

need to cross the border are routinely subjected to Israeli recruiting efforts.

They'll be given a choice—sometimes their medical treatment will be paid for in exchange

for information, sometimes they'll be barred from entry all-together unless they agree

to help Israel.

Most try to reject these efforts, rightly fearful for their lives if they give information

on Hamas or other Palestinian militant groups, but some sign up.

This network of spies ranges from low-level, casual informants all the way to upper-level

Hamas operatives compensated with hundreds of thousands of dollars for ongoing inside

information about the organization—the stakes are high, as Gaza's Hamas authorities regularly

execute individuals under the charge of espionage for Israel. 

Information gleaned feeds into the Israeli intelligence agencies, and this is combined

with  that gained from surveillance aircraft and an advanced system of digital surveillance

to give Israel, at least theoretically, a good picture of what's going on in the territory

without the need to actually go inside.

Through this, Israel at least hopes to be able to thwart all attacks into its territory,

but there is one method that Israel can't reliably stop from at least starting: rockets. 

The reasons why Hamas has come to rely on rockets so much are straightforward: they're

relatively easy to build using scavenged metal for structure and baking and agricultural

supplies for propellant.

They're therefore unguided and imprecise: it means Hamas fires them indiscriminately

into Israel, regularly hitting civilian targets, rather than the military targets permitted

for strike under the laws of war.

The rockets can also be launched from within the center of Gaza, where it's easy to hide,

and where Hamas can position itself near targets that Israel would hesitate to destroy like

hospitals or schools.

That leaves Israel with two options—either they don't initiate an airstrike against

the launch site, and Hamas can continue, or they do, and the organization will bolster

its case when accusing Israel of war crimes in Gaza.

Therefore, rockets are perhaps the most regular tactic deployed by Hamas and other militant

groups in the region, yet life in Israel stays relatively normal regardless. 

In nearby Israeli towns like Sderot, bus shelters were built to double as rocket shelters—the

automated system only gives about fifteen seconds of warning given the close proximity

to Gaza, so these allow residents to quickly flee into relative safety even when out on

the streets.

In order to allow kids to play, especially during times of heightened tensions, the town

built a massive indoor playground in a reinforced, armored building, along with an outdoor equivalent

centered with what looks like an oversized caterpillar, yet is actually, once again,

a rocket shelter. 

As distance increases from the border, warning time increases and therefore the ability for

Israel to respond does too.

And perhaps the most regular response comes from the famed Iron Dome—while incredibly

complex technologically, the concept is simple: it's a system that, in a matter of seconds,

uses radar to detect whether a rocket is on a trajectory towards a populated area and,

if so, sends a small, guided interceptor missile to destroy the rocket mid-air.

This works remarkably well—it has a success rate over 90%—but it has its limitations.

For one, the interceptor missiles each cost upwards of $100,000, meaning a massive barrage

of well-aimed rudimentary Hamas rockets would put a strain on IDF supplies and budgets.

This was a long-understood theoretical Achilles heel—Israel had even been developing a laser-based

equivalent in order to solve the problem—but around 6:30 am on the morning of October 7th,

2023, theory came crashing into reality. 

The Iron Dome—recognized, revered, respected the world over—suddenly, spectacularly,

and tragically failed as Hamas rockets arced across the morning sky, before, at a rate

far too high, crashing directly into buildings in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Ashkelon, and other

nearby Israeli cities and towns.

Israel and its security system was under attack, and the opening move was remarkably simple:

get around the iron dome by overwhelming it.

In quick succession, Hamas launched some two to three thousand rockets.

These rockets—low tech, unreliable, but manufactured on the comparative cheap at about

$600 per unit—drowned iron dome interceptors, allowing far more than the usual 10% to make

ground fall, sending Israelis across the nation running for bomb shelters.

The coordinated barrage served as the opening shots, and tipped Hamas's strategy: keep

it coordinated, keep it simple, and move quickly.  

As sirens blared across Israel, Hamas took aim at the barriers encircling Gaza at at

least six verified locations.

First they bombed observation towers and communication infrastructure with run-of-the-mill commercial

drones carrying explosives to blind the cameras and neutralize the remotely operated machine

guns.At the same time, fighters riding fan-powered hang gliders and paragliders floated over

the fence to secure territory on the far side.

With the smart fence now blind and defenseless, Hamas fighters on motorcycles stormed across

the buffer zone, blasted openings into the fences and walls, and rushed toward nearby

Israeli communities or IDF bases, in some cases, capturing the military installations

before they even knew they were under attack.

Following not far behind the blitzing motorcycles were bulldozers that widened the gaps to allow

for more Hamas vehicles to pass first into Israel, then, with hostages in tow, pass quickly

back into Gaza.

Armed with nothing more than cold-war era weapons, retrofitted civilian transportation,

and paper maps, roughly one thousand fighters now poured into south and west Israel. 

Of course, getting beyond a barrier marked only the beginning.