THE TUNNEL owners sit around the fire, passing cups of sweet tea and talking bitterly about the siege.
But on this early February morning, they’re not talking about the Israeli jets and their occasional air strike on the hundreds of tunnels that worm their way from Egypt into Gaza, slipping in supplies and, some say, weapons.
Instead, their fury is directed at the Egyptian government, which following this winter’s Israeli offensive has cracked down on the Gaza tunnel trade, choking the flow of goods. “No matter what the Israelis do, we’re steadfast,” says one owner who identifies himself as Abu Ahmed, as he sits in an outdoor courtyard within sight of the border. “But this? This could slaughter our country and our economy.”
Under pressure from the US and Israel, Egypt is imposing stronger checkpoints throughout the Sinai Peninsula to prevent merchandise from reaching the tunnel zone. Here on the border in Rafah, there is talk of police using informants to seek out hidden entrances and destroy dozens of tunnels with explosives or huge water hoses.
“They seem to be taking it seriously this time,” says Musab Shurrab, a police officer stationed within yards of the border wall.
An army of tunnel diggers went back to work immediately after Israel ended its three-week offensive in Gaza on January 18th.
Tunnel traffic resumed for about a week, with a new wave of fresh goods appearing in Gaza’s depleted markets. Then, the owners say, something changed.
Having fended off calls for an international troop presence on the border, Egyptian president Hosni Mubarak apparently set out to prove that Egypt was capable of controlling its own borders.
In the last week of January, extra security forces began appearing on the Egyptian side of the wall, along with new security cameras pointed across the border. “It’s the first time they’ve acted like this,” said Mr Shurrab.
But even more disturbing, he said, is when the soldiers suddenly disappear; then everybody panics, fearing the Egyptians have been warned about an impending Israeli air strike.
There are signs that the Egyptians are succeeding – for now, at least – where even the Israeli airforce failed.
Abu Khalil is part owner of a tunnel specialising in transporting petrol. He boasts that his tunnel never stopped working during the Israeli siege, bringing through up to 80,000 litres a day.
“Since 9pm last night, not a drop has come through,” he says.
On this sunny day in early February, a few crews are working their tunnels amid the familiar growl of generators. Most say they are repairing damaged tunnels. But the activity is a fraction of what it had been two weeks earlier.
There is also a new atmosphere of caution. In the first days after the ceasefire, tunnel operators welcomed journalists and TV crews to show off their underground creations. They are more subdued now, speaking freely but avoiding having pictures taken. A Hamas police officer warns against photographing any goods coming out of the tunnels.
Hamas effectively licenses the tunnels, declaring them a legitimate part of the economy and taxing the profits. Egyptian authorities until now turned a blind eye, viewing the tunnels as a necessary safety valve to prevent living conditions in Gaza from becoming too desperate.
But Israel has made ending the tunnel-trade a priority, accusing Hamas of using them to bring in long-range rockets from Iran. The tunnel owners deny that they smuggle weapons, contending that rockets pass through secret Hamas-run tunnels that are deeper, more fortified and extend much further across the border.
“Think about it. The weapons tunnels aren’t these guys out in the open here,” says owner Abu Baraa, pointing to the diggers around him.
"I bring through potato chips, Cadbury bars and pampers." Mr Abu Baraa says he and several partners invested $100,000 to open their tunnel just weeks before the Israeli offensive began. A former day labourer in Israel, he says most of the tunnel owners were forced into the trade by the sanction-induced collapse of the Gazan economy. "If there was another way to make a living, I'd do it," he says. "It becomes a choice between life or death." – ( Los Angeles Times-Washington Postservice)