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I guess where I really want to begin is actually just because so much of this is about reality
and different realities and inquiring about realities.
I wonder where you stand on the many worlds interpretation, this idea of many worlds, parallel universes.
What do you think about that?
I think it's very interesting because for a person who lives this madness in Gaza,
imagining that there is another world, another peaceful world that is away from all this madness,
away from all this horror, where I have another version of me living,
peacefully just living a life, is very intriguing.
But scientifically speaking, I don't actually believe in it so much.
You don't? Okay.
Yeah, I don't believe in it.
This is Qasem Walid, a 28-year-old physicist who has lived his whole life in Gaza.
And over the last couple of years, as Israel has dropped bombs all around him,
as he's lost friends and family, like many Palestinians, he's been postmortem.
He's been posting videos and essays, trying to show the world what's really going on.
Only he has been doing it using quantum physics.
And I wanted to understand why.
So I called him up, and we talked many times over five months,
as more and more groups, including the UN, declared that Israel was committing genocide in Gaza,
as ceasefires were called, and then broken.
And he told me the tale of how quantum physics entered his life,
how it has helped him to survive the unthinkable chaos,
and how that unthinkable chaos granted him access to perceive
that confusing quantum state at the bottom of our physical world.
If that makes no sense, I promise it will when Qasem explains it.
With our very first conversation, which we had back in July of 2025,
when Israel's restrictions on aid had created mass starvation all around him in Gaza.
I wonder if you can just start by describing your reality right now.
Okay, so today is July 29th, Tuesday, and right now it's 6.16 Gaza time.
I live actually in Khan Yunis.
Which is in the south of Gaza, Gaza Strip.
I'm actually in a cafe, which is in al-Mawasi area.
Just a few people are here.
But if I move outside, there will be like a zillion people,
because I'm right next to the tent camp.
When is the last time you ate?
I know you had to cancel last week because you wrote that you'd spent three days
looking for flour and hadn't found anything.
I think four days or three days ago, I was actually going to the Morag crossing,
and unfortunately I couldn't take anything because there was like a zillion people.
It was so packed, and we were being shot at, and I was just taking the floor,
taking a shelter, and there is no shelter.
It's just open land, you know.
I'm sorry to say that, but the only shelter you can take is the guy in front of you.
And luckily we got like some help from relatives and from friends to care for the flour.
I can't survive on them for the last two or three days.
What is that sound that I hear?
Is that a plane?
Yeah, this is actually a warplane.
I think it's a F-16 or something.
We hear this on a daily basis, and we actually can't right now tell
which kind of a bomb is going to hit the ground,
if it's going to be a drone, if it's going to be a helicopter.
Are you less safe by being here right now talking to me?
Is this a risk?
You know, living in Gaza is a risk, every place you're here.
Whenever I go out from my tent, I pray for myself.
Whenever I enter any place, I pray for myself, for my safety, for my family's safety,
for everyone's safety.
Just a couple of days ago, actually, they bombed the college right behind me,
just about like 30 or 40 meters.
But, you know, I don't have another choice because I don't have access to the Internet,
so I have to go to cafes to get.
Better access to the Internet, which is not very good, actually,
but, you know, this is what I've got in here, so, yes.
So, from the noise of that cafe,
Qasim told me where his story with quantum physics began.
Funny enough, the first time I really got intrigued by physics,
it was due to the stars.
I don't want to say I was a romantic kid,
but I was spending a lot of time on the rooftop just looking at the stars
and denying the sky.
You know, Gaza isn't the best place.
It's the best place that you can view or observe the night sky from
because we have, I think, more than 90% air pollution
because of the density and the, you know, bomb-based from time to time.
But I remember I was in the eighth grade.
I was 14 years old.
I remember at what night there was a heavy rain.
I think it was around midnight that when the rain had stopped,
I decided to go to the rooftop just to look at the stars.
And the scene was absolutely magnificent, Lulu.
I still remember the scene.
It looked like pearls.
Pearls?
Yeah, exactly, pearls.
But that night, I believe that some angel just sweeped up the whole sky
and the view was like full HD.
The first thing that my eyes was light on
was the three dots in the sky,
which later on I found the name of them,
which is called the Orion Belt.
And Qasim would wonder about those twinkling pearls in the sky.
What they are made of.
Why they are pulsing.
You know, when you look at the stars,
they have this pulsing light on and off.
If this was some sort of a language or something.
Like a Morse code?
Exactly.
And the way that the stars are moving, they are pulsing.
And there was someone in his life he could take these questions to.
he worked actually as the manager of the engineering unit
of the Palestine Broadcasting Channel.
My father was a very generous man.
He actually gave a lot of free lectures to my neighbors
and my relatives in mathematics and physics.
And from time to time, I was intrigued by the stuff he was saying and lecturing about.
So I said from time to time, not every time, I'm not a geek or something, but you know.
Okay, I don't know, man, you're writing about quantum mechanics like all the time.
Are you sure you're not a geek?
No, I can assure you I'm not a geek.
But you know, I was intrigued.
It was out of curiosity, I wanted to listen to what he was saying.
And I had to, like, slide in between the students he had
and to sit around and listen to what he said.
And it was very beautiful, you know?
He would romanticize even, you know, engineering, physics and stuff.
He would compare, like, the electric current for love or something
between a male and female and between spouses and stuff.
He was a romantic guy, yeah.
Qasim says he thinks his dad wanted to be a poet.
But, you know, being a poet or a writer wasn't something, like, plausible.
My mother's uncle used to write poems and insulting the Israeli occupation,
and he was locked up in jails for months.
And I don't think my father wanted to be in jail for something,
so he was, like, writing diaries and stuff and keeping it for himself, not publishing it.
Qasim's father died in 2016, when Qasim was 19 years old.
Maybe in another universe where my dad is alive, I could be like still learning from him.
But in my world, I believe my father said to me so many times that if he wanted to choose a field to major in, he would choose physics.
He was a brilliant engineer, but he was so interested in physics.
That's how he actually inspired me to continue with the physics field.
Did you see it as honoring him, like living the life he didn't get to do,
but you wanted to, to have access to those ideas and those classes?
I believe my father won't let me to be his second chance
because my father was very strict that I am my own story, you know?
That's beautiful.
Everyone had his story from this life.
He had his story with all the difficulties he had from the poverty that he had.
He actually took his family from, and he wanted me to decide what I want.
And what he wanted was to study physics.
So he did, at the Islamic University of Gaza.
I don't know, it was the most beautiful place in the whole Gaza Strip.
The campus was like a painting.
It was all tree-covered with trees, big trees.
And maybe my best place and my favorite place in the university was the library.
Because, you know, the library has this panoramic window where you can see different sides of the campus.
You can see the whole university from there.
You can see the students interacting with each other.
You can see professors and students circling around each other.
Because, you know, there's many lectures actually happening outdoors.
And you can see, like, casually, a professor would take a punch.
With a student and sit under a tree to teach him about something.
It was a perfect scene for a student.
It was the perfect place for a besieged student that is trapped in Gaza to study in.
Because you can feel the freedom there.
And that's when I stumbled into quantum mechanics.
He took a few classes his first years.
But it was his junior year that he met the guy who would change the course of his life.
Dr. Sufjan Taya, a renowned physics professor and president of the whole university.
What did Dr. Taya look like?
Okay, he was a catch, if I can say that.
A catch?
Exactly. He was a catch.
He was the most elegant person I have ever seen, you know?
His suits were so, like, tied up.
And clean.
And the way he actually do his hair.
How did he do his hair?
He actually flip it over, like, to the back, you know?
And he has this silver hair all around his head.
And he was so, like, elegant, you know?
We don't have this type of professors much in Gaza.
You just have the shirt and the pants and some sort of shoes.
But he was so dressed up every day, so elegant, so polite, you know?
He would never raise his voice.
He was like, I don't know, like a walking book that smells nice, you know?
Do you know these old books we have and they smell unique?
He was like that. He was an old book that smells nice.
And this old book that smells nice, he opened the door to the quantum realm.
This place where the particles that build our world,
that build each and every one of us and every tree,
and every wall, and every bomb, and every moon,
are in this maddening, shifty state called superposition,
where they are impossible to pin down.
They are not in any one concrete place,
but they are also not quite in multiple places at once.
But they are also definitely not nowhere.
I know this is a little messed up.
It's really messed up.
But, Dr. Taya explained, that's just how it goes,
to fight it, and to add just one more messed up layer
to this whole superposition state.
Particles are only in it when you're not looking.
As soon as you look at a particle, when you measure it,
it collapses out of superposition,
back down into one thing or the other.
What?
Richard Feynman, which is, in my perspective,
the most brilliant.
The most brilliant physicist, like, ever been.
Like, he's the GOAT of physics.
He's the GOAT, yeah.
He was, like, so puzzled by it.
And he said that,
if you think you understand quantum mechanics,
you don't really understand it.
The point isn't to understand it.
It's just to accept it.
That the math and all the fancy experiments say
that superposition is a fact of life.
And Dr. Taya explained that this,
creates all these wild effects.
Maybe one of the stories I remember
when he talked about an experiment
where the physicists collided two protons together
near the speed of light.
And from the debris of the collision of the two protons,
two photons have emerged,
which was super weird.
It's like crashing two cars
and a bicycle came out from this collision.
You know?
It was so bizarre.
And sitting in,
Dr. Taya's classroom,
Qasim was hooked.
He was so subtle,
so poetic,
if I can say that.
He was, like, you know,
he can, like,
projectize the physics concepts into life.
If you had to pin, like,
one thing that really grabbed you,
which one would it be?
Like quantum tunneling.
It's like, you know,
you know the quantum tunneling?
Qasim explained to me that quantum tunneling
is this real thing.
It's a real thing that happens
when electrons can just
tunnel through a barrier
that it doesn't seem like they should be able to.
Almost like teleportation.
Whoa.
So what Dr. Taya was trying to establish there
is that we can make our own version of tunneling.
Because here we are living our life here in Gaza
as besieged people, besieged civilians.
Like, if I want to move from Gaza to Egypt,
I can't.
Why?
Because there is crossings or borders
that. Israel has set. I can't break through that barrier.
But we are also created from subatomic particles.
So how about to imagine ourselves as electrons
and go to the moon?
Yeah.
And we're talking here emotionally,
spiritually,
not in actual sense.
Then why not looking up?
And looking up to the sky,
looking up to the one beautiful thing
that is available to us for free,
you know,
because nothing is free in Gaza.
And so Qasim began tunneling
deeper and deeper into the quantum world
where he began to see a future
for his life as a physicist.
What?
What did you start to. Like, what did you want to find out?
Or what did you start to sort of imagine
your life as a physicist could look like?
I think I would, like, go for a scholarship.
It would be most likely France,
the UK or the US.
I'm more into astrophysics.
Oh, really?
I wanted to visit NASA.
Space X to see the rockets,
the Falcon and stuff.
To have this involvement with it,
to capture it from my naked eye,
not just from the screen of my laptop
or my mobile.
It would be quite something, actually.
And that is a life I imagine myself.
So you, okay,
so you had these dreams of maybe, like,
getting a scholarship
and becoming an astrophysicist
and maybe going to NASA
and looking through this telescope
with your naked eye
and seeing,
like, stars in huge detail.
And then, for you,
when did you know that was changing
or that that possibility was eclipsing
for the moment?
Oh, my God.
What?
Are you okay?
No, no, no.
I don't know if you hear.
Yeah.
They stated the generator all over again.
Yeah, yeah.
Do you hear it?
I hear it.
This is really interesting.
This is a really interesting question.
I really,
I wanted to answer,
but I don't know if you can hear my voice clearly.
And I'm actually running out of battery.
My battery is up to 22%.
Okay, so maybe,
okay, so.
I'm so sorry.
No, not at all.
I'm so sorry.
Not at all.
We are really having fun.
Me too.
I am too.
I'm having a really great time with you.
Yeah.
I really don't want this to end.
Could we do,
I don't know,
could we do one more someday this week
or is it too dangerous for you?
No, it's not dangerous, I think.
You know the situation,
but I don't know,
I don't think it would be dangerous.
We can do it tomorrow if you would like.
I would love to do it.
Can we do it tomorrow?
Of course.
Yeah, yeah, of course.
Tomorrow, same time.
October 7th, 2023.
Shortly after sunrise.
At first, I'll be honest with you,
I thought that was thunder.
You know, sometimes we get some thunders
in autumns in Gaza
and some drizzles, you know,
from time to time in autumn.
So I thought at first that's a thunder sound.
But then I went out to see what's going on
and I saw like countless rocket launching
every single area from Gaza
is actually has this stripes of the smokes
that the rocket left behind.
This was, of course, the Hamas attack
that would kill over 1,000 people.
Israelis. And within hours, Israel would begin its counterattack, which, at the time of this
recording, has killed over 69,000 Palestinians. You can ask every Palestinian in Gaza and would
tell you that from October 7, we knew that something unprecedented is coming and something
we have never lived before, even our ancestors. Just days later, Israeli jets fly toward his
university. All I see is was a nebula of rubble, ash, and dust, a thick nebula that covered the
whole campus. It was nothing that I have seen before. Two months later, Israeli tanks push
into his neighborhood. We were in the middle of the streets when the bombshell started to fall
upon our heads. The resonance, the sound of it, the high-pitched sound of the bombshell is still
bouncing on and off between the walls of my skull, you know.
I still remember that sound. It was really, really loud.
Did you think you were going to die that day? I mean, did you think that was it?
I think, yes, because the nearest bomb was actually 20 meters or 30 meters away from me,
and I was, like, just startled and just stopped and just waiting for my fate, my destiny.
Until my mother, who's turned out to be braver than I do.
Really?
I swear, she bowed me from my. From my back of the chair, the back of the chair, and just aggressively pulled me towards the wall.
It's the mother instinct, you know?
Yeah.
I can't remember much, actually, because it was all happening fast, you know? We just,
once we saw people going south, we just followed the crowd, and people were, like,
walking towards Rafah, because it's the southern Gaza. They were walking like drunks, swaying,
like, staggering like drunks, you know? They didn't know where to go.
What was that?
Sway, do you think?
Do you know the Bendolian movement?
Yeah, pendulum?
Pendulum, exactly. They were swaying like they didn't have the energy to walk, so they were swaying
because they didn't know where to go. They didn't know where the road would end.
They didn't know where their feet will land.
Qasim and his family joined that procession of people flowing south.
I actually hold under my arm one mattress. My brother holds the other.
My other brothers were holding, you know, clothes and other luggage, and we took it on foot.
It took us, actually, more than three hours that day to reach to the point where we saw all people
that are just sitting on the ground, didn't know what to do. Others were starting to build, like,
makeshift tents and stuff, and I have never built a tent before, so it was the time for me to move
into a new world, a new world of tents.
Yeah.
Yeah, it's my world now, which I've been living in since that day.
At some point in all the chaos, Qasim finds some internet, checks his phone,
and sees a picture of Dr. Taya, brown eyes warm, silver hair flipped back.
I saw this post, you know, honoring Dr. Taya and announced his killing.
His house was bombed by an Israeli airstrike.
Wow.
When Israel issued the massive displacement orders, the majority of people there took refuge
in the southern Gaza, and Dr. Sofian Taya, amazingly, and I don't know what was going on with him,
but he decided to go even further in the north, because I believe his family home is located in there,
and he took refuge in there.
I don't know if took refuge is the right choice.
Yeah.
It's a tough word, but that is where he was killed.
Yeah.
When you heard that news, what did you feel?
What did you think?
I don't know.
I stopped there, like, for one minute or two.
I don't, like, express myself more, like, loudly or something.
I keep it to myself.
So I just, like, stopped and, like, holding my phone and just stopped looking at the post at the time,
and I couldn't believe it, you know?
Then a month later, the Israeli government prevents Qasim's aunt, Samar,
from traveling to Egypt for medical treatment, and she dies.
And all the while, in the outside world, the U.N.'s International Court of Justice is convening
and deciding not to call what's happening inside a genocide.
And the U.S. is continuing to send billions of dollars in bombs and other military aid to Israel.
And in the spring of 2024, Qasim hits a kind of breaking point.
Despite being a pretty private person, Qasim is still in power.
Despite being a pretty private person, he begins publishing pieces describing his reality.
To speak up, to speak loud, and to scream at the world to take action.
He started with a poem about his aunt.
I miss you. I miss spending time with you.
The memories keep buzzing above your couch.
Then he wrote an elegy to Dr. Taya.
Life feels different now that Israel has killed my professor.
He feels a trap behind unopenable gates.
He wrote about bombed pharmacies and schools and life in a tent camp.
Fires burn unchecked.
Garbage piles rot in the sun.
And in nearly every essay, as he describes his surroundings in excruciating detail,
at some point, he casts his light on the quantum world.
Recently, I have noticed that my movement is similar to the quantum world.
The quantum harmonic oscillator, Q-H-O.
In the Q-H-O, electrons can also use a kind of stirs.
It's called the ladder operator.
And it's how electrons move between energy states.
When I imagine myself as an electron,
it is not the stirs I'm climbing that are the creation operator.
It is the water, because it creates the ability to move from a lower energy state
to a higher energy state.
from being more thirsty to less thirsty.
I mean, there's all this stuff that you write about so beautifully, but it is, it's, quantum is so hard to understand.
And like, like, I see you posed with this frustrating circumstance that you are in hell.
And it seems like a lot of people, much of the outside world doesn't care and isn't seeing it and isn't acting.
And so you're trying to scream out by describing reality.
But then you're using these quantum terms, which are so hard.
Do you worry that, like, that could confuse it or confuse people?
Or have you ever found it fall short?
I guess I just still wonder about the choice to bring in all the quantum stuff,
which is hard to understand.
Well, I come from a scientific background.
I'm studying physics. I studied physics.
And, you know, when you study something, you just live by it.
And you see everything from its perspective.
If you are a writer, you would see, like, people like stories or like poems.
If you are a doctor, you would see people like, I don't know, like cases or something.
If you're an engineer, you start picturing people like machines or something.
So that's me, a physicist, a student of physics, trying to live a genocide.
And my haven, my only haven that I can take refuge in, is the world of physics.
Because when you love a place, when you live in a place that you love, you feel comfortable,
you feel like you own it, and you feel like you can be out of reach,
like a whole universe that is just built for you.
And surprisingly, you built it for yourself.
I'm actually building this place on a daily basis,
even inside my head.
I'm not talking here physically.
It's actually, it's all in my head.
But if I can escape inside my head
and if I can escape to the inside the bodies
and the maze of physics and quantum physics
and in this seemingly arbitrary and randomness of physics,
will so be it.
If they can offer me a safer place,
if they can offer me a refuge,
if they can offer me some comfort, then I'm lucky, I think,
to have this while two other millions in Gaza are suffering on a daily basis.
And I'm not saying that I'm not suffering,
but I'm at least using something that I love as a safe zone, if I can say that.
In May of 2024, Israel invades Rafah.
Which now lies not in rubble, it lies in sand.
You're saying it's beyond rubble.
Exactly. It's beyond rubble right now. It's become a desert.
In July, one of his best friends is killed in an airstrike.
Israel can come for the houses, they come for the hospitals,
they come for the streets and for the schools.
But I was like thinking, can they reach an atom?
Like if I was living inside an atom, if I'm picturing myself like an electron,
That would be like my safe haven, my safe refuge,
where Israel or the Israeli army can reach me.
- And in December of 2024,
he realizes something.
singer's famous cat. I'm trapped in a box. I have been stuck in
this box since the beginning of Israel's genocidal war in my homeland, Gaza. So many people know I'm
inside it, but none can tell if I'm alive or dead. He writes about this realization in an essay
using one of the most famous and maddening quantum thought puzzles called Schrodinger's Cat.
I'm going to cliff-snote it just so we can get back to Qasim's writing, but basically
Schrodinger's Cat is an imaginary experiment that this Austrian physicist, Erwin Schrodinger,
dreamed up as a way of thinking about superposition, that shifty, annoying state
that all subatomic particles are in when we're not measuring them. So it goes like this. There
is a cat in a box with a radioactive atom that could decay and kill it, or not. But you can't
know whether the cat is dead or alive unless you're in a box with a radioactive atom that could
until you open the box. And since the fate of the cat is tied to the atom, which is itself in a
superposition of being decayed and not decayed, does that mean that the cat, before we open the
box, is both alive and dead? And scientists love to fight about this. Schrodinger actually posed
the whole thought puzzle as a kind of snub at quantum physics, saying like, okay, there's no
way that a cat can be both dead and alive at the same time, so we are misinterpreting
what the math is saying about reality. But other scientists say, no, you know, I think maybe the cat
is both dead and alive. So, back to Qasim's essay.
Like Schrodinger's cat, I'm locked in a box that will eventually kill me. Luckily, I'm not dead
yet. But am I alive? I'm writing this, surely, but I can't leave the box.
The only outcome available to me is death. So, I am afraid I can't say that I'm alive either.
Seemingly, my existence has now become identified by the superposition of the states of being
simultaneously alive and dead. I'm alive in a lifeless life, and all the possible paths ahead
lead to my death. Is what you're saying, like, you're trying to
picture not the moment of collapsing when the human measurement is involved, but what's going on
in that box the whole time? Exactly. Exactly. Because I'm living it. You know, I'm living it.
So, the whole point of it is that I feel sorry for that cat. I'm not talking here about the
physicist in me. I'm talking about the human, about the Palestinian who's stuck in Gaza,
not only for two years, because this is misleading. I'm stuck in Gaza for 20 years.
I have been locked in this box for two decades. Or I can say for, I don't know, like seven decades.
I don't know how to describe it. I was satisfied. I was content with the box I used to have before
this work. You know, we were like, so, I don't know, adjusted to it. It wasn't perfect, but we
adjusted to it. We know the schedules of electricity. We know the schedules of water.
We know the schedules of everything, actually. We adjusted to it. We cope with the life.
You know, life goes on and we have to go with it. But right now, it's taking place in an ever
shrinking box. So, I'm sympathizing with the cat. I'm empathizing with the cat, because the cat is
me and I am the cat. Everything in life seems to follow a certain binary system, from electrons,
which spin in one direction or the other, to human beings, which can be either alive or dead.
Still, this doesn't seem to apply to me, because whether I'm living or dead at any given moment
is unknown. I'm no longer part of this binary of life and being, it seems. So, what am I?
It's like you're saying you are experiencing superposition, this duality. That superposition
concept is something that, again, the brightest minds in science can't quite
fathom. They just say, eh, just accept it. Like, we can't even, you can't imagine it. But you're
also saying you are physically living superposition. So, report back from superposition. What does it
feel like to be so many states at once?
It feels like if, God forbid, someone had pointed a gun to your head. Like, you're walking to your
life with someone walking behind you with a gun pointing to the back of your head. So, yeah,
that's what it feels like.
It's horror. It's a horror. We are horrified on a daily basis. It's, if I go to grab food
from my family, I'll be dead. If I went to the sea to catch some fish, an Israeli boat
can target me. If I went back to my house to grab some wood, an Israeli drone might
kill me. If I went to the market, I might be hit. If I went to, if I was in the car, I might,
I might be hit. If I went anywhere in Gaza, I might be hit and targeted and killed. So, yeah,
it's, I don't know, I can't describe it, actually. I'm sorry. It's, it's insane.
No, you don't.
You know, it's insane. No one can live like this.
Before the war, I was trying to see how we can get a knowledge about certain dilemma or
certain problem in the physics world or mathematics or any other field of science. But right
now, I want to show the world the reality as is, you know, the reality as it is, to show them,
like, here, look, this is the reality of Gaza. And you, you, the one who need to investigate
this time. Do you feel the shift in you? It's like you went from scientist to object of study.
Exactly. Exactly. I am the one who is inside the box. I am the one who is trapped. I am the one
who is stuck and can't. I am the
I'm out of reach and out of resources and I'm out of knowledge
and I'm out of everything that could help me to climb the ladder to open the box.
It is not up to me. I tried, I failed, and it's your turn right now.
In the Shodengas' cat experiment, everyone asked whether the cat was alive or dead,
but none actually opened the box to see.
If they had, the superposition would have collapsed
and the cat would only be dead if they didn't open the box in time.
We're not cats. Please open the box.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Is my sound cutting off or anything?
No, you sound great.
Can you hear me okay?
Yes.
So we're recording this.
It's October 16th, 2025,
six days after the ceasefire officially went into effect.
And I guess like with the news of the ceasefire spreading,
How has the box changed for you in the last week?
It's the same box, but it got only quieter.
But it doesn't change that I'm still trapped inside this box.
Like, from my own point of view, when I hear the ceasefire announcement,
I thought the first question that popped into my mind was, what is my options right now?
I don't have a house. I don't have a job. I don't have a life.
I don't even have clothes to protect myself from winter.
I actually tried to sneak out to my neighborhood a couple of days ago to save some clothes, winter clothes, and some books from underneath the rubble.
And I went with the first light of the morning because, you know, we take the whole distance between Al-Mawas, we go to eastern Qanunis on foot, and we were shot at by a quadcopter, an Israeli drone.
And this was after the official ceasefire?
Yes, that was a day after.
It was actually the last Tuesday.
So we're not going back to my house until further notice.
further notice.
from the Israeli army, because it's a bit dangerous in there.
Okay.
The ceasefire doesn't mean the genocide has stopped.
It just transformed to other shapes, other forms of it.
And the only difference is just the rate of killing the civilians in Gaza,
because, you know, the rate of killing is decreasing.
But it is the same tactics, it's the same reality.
Yeah, we're trapped more than ever right now.
And I don't think it will change anytime soon.
I don't just want to exist like inside this box.
I do want to live.
Yeah.
We always want something that is beyond our physical,
or something metaphysical, something imaginative,
something that can give us a reason.
Shortly after he said this, the call dropped.
Oh, I think I lost you.
Hi again, I'm so sorry.
Hi.
The internet as usual.
No, no, not at all.
I was going to say, how's the electricity grid?
How's the internet?
Is that still?
Well, you know, the sun is going down, actually,
and so it's getting, like, slower and slower by battery.
Is it like every night you can't escape?
You can't, you get cut off from the world?
Yeah, because at night we don't have electricity anymore
because it's all powered by the sun.
But, you know, actually, there is nothing more beautiful than the stars,
especially, like, you don't have electricity at all
because that is when you can see stars all clear.
My first ever question about stars is why they are pulsing, you know?
I learned about it, like, many years later, why the pulsing happens.
It was always because of our atmosphere,
because of how the wind changes its direction through the layers of our atmosphere.
It had nothing to do with the nature of the star itself.
Oh, interesting.
But the more I learned about it, you know, it's always like,
it's not a toxic relationship.
It's always like when I know. Because, you know, in a relationship, when you know more about your partner,
you start having some sort of a problem.
But this is the. It happens, you're so right.
I mean, sometimes knowledge can extinguish magic, it's true.
Exactly.
It's not the same with the stars, because the more I know about them,
the more I fell in love with them, you know?
Me with the stars, it's more of a feeling, an everlasting good feeling
that it actually makes me feel.
I feel good even about myself.
Can you see any stars right now?
I can't walk outside.
Just give me a second.
Okay.
So I'm actually sitting outside right now,
but I can't recognize anybody.
I can't recognize any of them.
Unfortunately.
But I know for sure that the Orion Belt would be on the southern side of the sky right now.
But you can't see them.
You know, yeah, because Gaza, with this war alone, produced more greenhouse gases.
I'm trying really hard.
I'm so sorry, but I can't recognize any veterans.
It seems like foggy up there.
But I can't see any of them.
Thank you.
© transcript Emily Beynon
was produced by Jessica Young.
It was edited by Alex Deason.
Fact-checking by Emily Krieger.
One little update.
As we were getting this ready,
the Nobel Prize in Physics was announced for 2025,
and it went to scientists for their work on quantum tunneling.
They had done experiments which took it from the quantum world
to the classical world, to our world,
meaning not just tiny particles,
but big groups of particles can tunnel,
can make it through barriers
that it doesn't seem like they should be able to.
We had a ton of editorial support on this one,
so big thanks to everyone who weighed in.
Katya Rogers, Sara Khari, Karim Khatan,
Soren Wheeler, Pat Walters, and Alan Adams.
Also, if you'd like to read Qasim's whole essay,
it's called I Am Stuck in a Box Like Schrodingers in Gaza,
and it was published on Al Jazeera, December 19th, 2024.
There are also links to more of his work in the show notes here.
And finally,
if you just have not had enough quantum physics for your day,
our producer Jessica Young had a wonderful conversation
with the physicist Alan Adams at MIT
to sort of help us understand our quantum physics as best we could.
It's really great.
It goes into how there's like actually quantum stuff going on
in our bodies, in our proteins.
And you can listen to that if you become a member of the lab,
which is the way that you can support Radiolab.
by heading on over to radiolab.org slash join.
Many, many thanks for listening.
Catch you next week.
Hi, I'm Basit Khari, and I'm from Somerset, New Jersey.
And here are the staff credits.
Radiolab is hosted by Lulu Miller and Latif Nasir.
Soren Wheeler is our executive editor.
Sarah Sandbach is our executive director.
And our managing editor is Pat Walters.
Dylan Keefe is our director of sound design.
Our staff includes Simon Adler, Jeremy Bloom,
W. Harry Fortuna, David Gable, Maria Paz Gutierrez,
Sindhu Niyasambandham, Matt Kielty, Mona Madgavkar,
Annie McEwen, Alex Neeson, Sarah Khari, Anissa Vitsa,
Ariane Wack, Molly Webster, and Jessica Young.
With help from Rebecca Rand.
Our fact checkers are Diane Kelly, Emily Krieger,
Anna Pujolsky.
Joel Massini, and Natalie Middleton.
Podcast Summary Short Detailed
Key Points: Qasim Walid, a 28-year-old physicist from Gaza, uses quantum physics as a metaphor to describe his reality amid ongoing violence and displacement. He reflects on the "many worlds" interpretation of quantum mechanics, but personally rejects it, instead using quantum concepts as a psychological and emotional refuge. After the October 7, 2023 Hamas-Israel conflict, Qasim’s life becomes a daily struggle of survival, with constant threats from Israeli airstrikes and the collapse of basic infrastructure. He draws parallels between his lived experience and quantum phenomena like superposition and tunneling, describing himself as existing in a state of both alive and dead—mirroring Schrödinger’s cat. His writings, including an essay titled *I Am Stuck in a Box Like Schrödinger’s in Gaza*, frame the siege as a metaphysical trap where reality remains in superposition until observed or acted upon. He believes that science—particularly physics—offers a way to maintain hope and agency in the face of overwhelming despair and systemic neglect. Despite global indifference, he channels scientific language to demand accountability, turning personal suffering into a form of public testimony. The 2025 Nobel Prize in Physics for quantum tunneling reinforces the relevance of quantum concepts in real-world phenomena, deepening the symbolic link between science and survival in Gaza. Summary: Qasim Walid, a physicist from Gaza, uses quantum physics not as scientific theory but as a profound metaphor to understand and survive the ongoing violence and despair of life in Gaza. After the 2023 Hamas-Israel conflict, he experienced relentless airstrikes, displacement, and loss, leading him to adopt quantum concepts like superposition and Schrödinger’s cat to describe his own existential state—simultaneously alive and dead, trapped in a box of uncertainty. Though he personally does not believe in parallel universes, he finds solace in the quantum world as a mental refuge, allowing him to maintain agency and humanity amid systemic destruction.
His writings, including the essay *I Am Stuck in a Box Like Schrödinger’s in Gaza*, transform personal suffering into a powerful political and poetic critique, demanding global attention to the ongoing humanitarian crisis. The narrative illustrates how science, especially physics, becomes a tool for resilience, resistance, and emotional survival. Despite ceasefire announcements, the reality of daily danger persists, and Qasim emphasizes that the world has not seen or acted upon the full scale of the suffering—only that the violence continues in new forms.
His work bridges science and activism, showing how quantum mechanics, once abstract, becomes a lived, emotional truth for those enduring unrelenting conflict.
FAQs What is Qasim Walid's connection to quantum physics? › Qasim Walid, a 28-year-old physicist from Gaza, first became interested in quantum physics during his teenage years while observing the stars. He was inspired by his father's lectures on physics and later studied under Dr. Sufjan Taya, whose teachings introduced him to quantum concepts like superposition and quantum tunneling.
How does Qasim use quantum physics to describe life in Gaza? › Qasim uses quantum concepts such as superposition and Schrödinger's cat to describe the uncertainty and danger of daily life in Gaza. He feels trapped in a state of being both alive and dead, reflecting the constant threat of violence and the unknown fate of civilians.
What does Qasim mean by 'I am stuck in a box like Schrödinger's cat'? › Qasim uses Schrödinger's cat as a metaphor for the ongoing siege in Gaza, where he and millions of others are trapped in a state of uncertainty—neither fully alive nor dead—highlighting the lack of clear outcomes or safety in a life under constant threat.
Does Qasim believe in the many-worlds interpretation of quantum physics? › No, Qasim does not believe in the many-worlds interpretation. While he finds the idea of parallel universes intriguing—especially the thought of a peaceful life elsewhere—he views it as speculative and not scientifically valid in his experience.
How does Qasim's personal experience influence his use of quantum language? › Qasim uses quantum physics not as literal science, but as a psychological and emotional refuge. The framework allows him to describe his suffering, uncertainty, and resilience in a way that feels meaningful and empowering amid daily violence.
What role does Dr. Sufjan Taya play in Qasim's life and work? › Dr. Sufjan Taya, a physics professor at the Islamic University of Gaza, was a transformative figure in Qasim's life. He introduced him to quantum mechanics with poetic clarity and inspired Qasim to pursue physics as a way of understanding and coping with adversity.