STATEMENT
GAUZE 2 is a continuation of my previous exhibition “GAUZE” with a shift in emphasis toward scholasticide.
This is embodied in a new work: “Stolen Futures”
Scholasticide refers to:
“The systemic obliteration of education through the arrest, detention or killing of teachers, students and staff, and the destruction of educational infrastructure.”
The term was first introduced in 2009 by Palestinian scholar Karma Nabulsi, an expert on the laws of war at Oxford University, during Israel’s military operation in Gaza known as Operation Cast Lead (December 2008–January 2009).
On 24 August 2024, I attended a North West demonstration outside BAE Systems at Samlesbury near Blackburn.
There I met Dr Saeed Abuzour and his wife Redab, who had travelled from Manchester to attend the demo. They were friends of a friend. Redab is originally from Jordan and Saeed from Gaza.
As we spoke, I learned about their devastating tragedy: 55 members of Saeed’s family had been killed or fatally wounded on 4 December 2023 in Gaza following an Israeli attack.
Later that night, I came across Emily Berry’s poem “Because of Us.”
Having discovered that gauze was invented in Gaza, she asks simply:
“How many of our wounds have been dressed because of them
And how many of theirs have been left open because of us?”
I was already aware of the connection between Gaza and gauze, and the irony expressed in the poem, but it reminded me that this material—used for centuries to dress wounds—is neither able nor available to dress the wounds being inflicted on its birthplace.
The Gaza death toll since October 2023 has recently been revised by the Palestinian Ministry of Health to approximately 72,027 deaths, with over 171,651 injuries. The number continues to increase due to sporadic violence despite ceasefires. Experts and studies (e.g., from The Lancet and The Economist) estimate the true total could be significantly higher—potentially 77,000 to 109,000 or more—accounting for under-reporting, indirect deaths from disease and starvation, and unrecovered bodies. Many remain under the rubble, as do the Abuzour family.
A UN Human Rights Office study found that nearly 70% of verified fatalities in the Gaza war were women and children.
I couldn’t stop thinking of Saeed and the fatal wounds inflicted on his family. The idea of artistically translating this anomaly around gauze grew—to create an exhibition encompassing Gaza’s open wounds, with a central installation to commemorate the Abuzour martyrs.
Saeed agreed, and “GAUZE” the exhibition, was born.
GAUZE 2 is a continuation of this tragic story.
While this exhibition centres on scholasticide—the deliberate obliteration of education, teachers, students, and the very possibility of a future through learning—it is only one thread in a much larger, ongoing devastation.
The wounds of Gaza are not singular; they are layered, cumulative, and relentless.
Israeli historian Ilan Pappé has long highlighted this “incremental” nature of the genocide and warned of the policy toward Gaza:
“Israel’s present assault on Gaza alas indicates that this policy continues unabated.”
The layers multiply. The wounds remain open. There will be more to name, more to mourn, more to resist.
Christine Dawson
2026

