through tunnels under the border with Egypt. “The goal was
to keep Hamas from getting cement,” says Maher al–Tabbaa,
an official with the Gaza Chamber of Commerce. “But cement
from Egypt was available to anyone, Hamas or not.”
Cement sales highlight the push-me-pull-you relationship
between Israelis and Palestinians. The two sides hate, they
fight, they kill, they cooperate—then the cycle begins again.
And it’s getting more complicated as other Middle East play-
ers wade in. Many Gazans buy cement from a factory owned
by the Egyptian military that sends significant quantities
despite Egypt’s opposition to Hamas. Companies from Turkey,
a perennial champion of Palestinian rights, have entered the
Israeli market with cheap cement that today is even being
used to build a concrete wall around Gaza. And the UN, once
broadly trusted as a neutral force, has been put on the defen-
sive as Palestinians increasingly perceive it as an enforcer of
Israeli policy via the GRM.
The GRM rules are strict, and punishments for even minor
violations can put contractors and suppliers out of business
for weeks or months. At al-Assar’s sun-baked plant, wedged
between watermelon fields and an abandoned gas station
south of Gaza City, clerks must log every 50-kilogram (110-
pound) sack that comes in the gate. Walking through the
rebuilt factory, al-Assar points out the dozen or so security
cameras he had to install—on the front gate, on the storage
shed, by the truck lot, on a light pole overlooking piles of
gravel. Inside he curses as he passes two video-monitoring
systems that run 24 hours a day. In Gaza, the only thing reli-
able about the electricity is frequent blackouts, so he had to
buy a pair of battery backups to ensure a steady stream of
power; if the lights go out, the internet connection fails, or a
storm knocks out a camera, he risks being shut down under
GRM rules. Flipping through a book of permits and receipts he
must show UN inspectors anytime he makes concrete, al-Assar
says the restrictions amount to “a new occupation of Gaza.”
Under the GRM, proposed projects require documents
describing what will be built, for what purpose, and the quan-
tities of materials that will be needed. That’s uploaded via
a website to Israeli and Palestinian Authority officials, who
check it for accuracy. When a project is greenlighted, the
owner of the building gets a permit to purchase cement. At an
approved store in Gaza, the buyer presents his ID and orders
the material. Then he arranges transportation—typically a
couple of palettes with a ton or more of cement in 50kg bags—
to a concrete factory such as al-Assar’s.
In a barren upstairs office at al-Assar’s plant, two UN
inspectors sit around smoking hand-rolled cigarettes, waiting
for the grinding equipment to kick into gear. When al-Assar
wants to make a batch of concrete, they scrutinize the paper-
work and approve the blending of the cement with sand,
gravel, and water. “The engineers stick their nose into every“I just sat in the ruins
and cried”
Rubble in Gaza