On Nov. 27, a ceasefire agreement came into effect in Lebanon, bringing a glimmer of hope to the war-torn region. For the people of Gaza, battered for over a year by relentless Israeli bombardment and a deepening humanitarian crisis, the news evoked a bittersweet response. The fleeting sense of joy and relief for their neighbors to the north, who might soon be able to rebuild their lives, was overshadowed by their own agony as Israel’s genocidal military campaign in Gaza continues.
“We are happy for [the Lebanese people],” Asem, a 34-year-old father of three from northern Gaza, told +972. “No one should endure what we are going through. But it hurts that the world can act swiftly elsewhere while we are left to face this genocide alone.”
His sentiments resonate deeply among Gazans. For many of them, the ceasefire in Lebanon underscores the harsh reality that their suffering matters less than others. “The world saw what happened in Lebanon, [and was] able to stop the war there,” said Ruba Makwai, a 25-year-old teacher. “But who will stop the war in Gaza? Who will speak for us?”
Like over 90 percent of Gazans, Makwai had to flee her home because of the war. In November 2023, she and her family were forced to leave northern Gaza, after heavy Israeli bombardments destroyed their neighborhood. Now, living in a cramped shelter for displaced people in Az-Zawayda in central Gaza with her mother, siblings, and dozens of others, she finds herself yearning for a sense of normalcy.
“This morning, I watched videos of displaced Lebanese returning to their homes. I’ve replayed those videos over and over, imagining what it would be like to return to our home,” Makwai told +972. “I imagine myself running to hug my father and brother — I haven’t seen them in a year. I wish more than anything to experience that moment. But for us, reality is heartbreaking. Our life is confined to the borders of these tents.”
‘We have no one to advocate for us’
A key factor complicating efforts to reach a ceasefire in Gaza is the lack of a unified Palestinian leadership, which the Israeli government, under Benjamin Netanyahu, has worked to divide and suppress over many years, exploiting the resulting vacuum to advance its own agenda. Gaza’s isolation, coupled with the political chaos, the U.S. elections, and Israel’s conflict with Lebanon, has left Palestinians without a clear voice on the international stage.
This leadership vacuum deepened with Israel’s assassinations of prominent Palestinian political figures. The killing of Ismail Haniyeh in July and Yahya Sinwar in October — key players in negotiations and decision-making — further undermined diplomatic momentum to reach a ceasefire. While U.S. President Joe Biden suggested the assassination of Sinwar could bring Gaza and Israel closer to an agreement, Netanyahu leveraged it to intensify his military campaign against Gaza.
“The assassinations leave us leaderless,” Adel, a Palestinian journalist, told +972. “We are without a father or representative. We have no one to advocate for us as Netanyahu’s plans move forward.”
Given Netanyahu’s past political maneuvers, some believe that the ceasefire in Lebanon may actually be a dangerous sign for Gaza. Youssef Salem, a Palestinian activist and lawyer, wrote in a Facebook post that the ceasefire in Lebanon “will lead to increased political and military focus on Gaza in the coming period,” but that this focus is unlikely to bring relief. Instead, it signals a potential intensification of Israeli aggression, as the war-torn enclave becomes the sole target of Netanyahu’s military strategies.
Regional actors, particularly Iran, further complicate the situation. While Tehran positions itself as a champion of Palestinian resistance, many Gazans feel that its involvement in the war only serves its own strategic interests.
“They talk a lot about liberating Palestine,” Adel noted. “But where is their help when our children are dying?”
Iran’s support for Palestinian factions like Hamas and Islamic Jihad has provided Israel with a pretext for its devastating military operations in Gaza. Yet Tehran’s rhetoric is not matched by tangible aid or intervention. For ordinary Gazans, Adel argues, this disconnect breeds resentment and a sense of betrayal.
“We are caught between forces that do not care about us: Iran stirs things up, Israel attacks us, and the world watches.”
Gaza overshadowed
The longstanding divisions between Palestinian factions have posed significant challenges to the broader Palestinian cause. Yet, for the people of Gaza, their suffering transcends political rivalries. “We are human beings first. Isn’t that enough reason for the world to act?” asked Aya Shawa, a 31-year-old activist.
Her words reflect the growing frustration within the besieged Strip — not only toward their oppressors, but also toward allies like Qatar, who are perceived as turning away from Gaza.
For years, Qatar played a crucial role in helping Gaza survive Israel’s nearly two-decade long blockade, providing humanitarian aid, mediating temporary ceasefires, and funding rebuilding efforts. However, recent comments by Qatari officials, who cited lack of seriousness from “both sides” as reason for suspending the country’s role as mediator in the ceasefire talks, have left Gazans feeling betrayed and further isolated on the international stage.
“How did Qatar equate Gaza with Israel?” asked Aya Shawa. “Is it logical to put us, the oppressed, on the same level as the occupier?”
Qatar’s diplomatic shift reflects a broader regional trend: as Israel’s war in Gaza grinds on, Palestinians’ plight is increasingly overshadowed by other events and political priorities. Israel’s invasion of Lebanon in September temporarily redirected media attention away from Gaza; now, the renewed fighting in Syria’s civil war threatens to do the same. And rather than working to resolve the immediate humanitarian crisis, many diplomats and politicians are instead prioritizing the questions of Gaza’s governance and control in the “day-after” scenario.
For the people of Gaza, having already endured 14 months of war, over 44,282 deaths, looming famine, and the destruction of countless homes, schools, and hospitals, this is an ominous sign of things to come. “We are not just numbers,” Aya reiterated. “We are people with dreams, families, and hopes for a better future. But the world doesn’t see us that way.”
The ceasefire in Lebanon serves for many in Gaza as a reminder of what they long for, and what is seemingly beyond their reach. As displaced Lebanese begin returning to their homes, Gazans are left with little more than the hope that their suffering will one day end. The question that haunts them is a simple one: “Who will stand with us to stop this madness?”
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário