MALVA MIHAMAD

News Desk — The third anniversary of the Gaza war arrives amid ongoing tensions, marking a moment to assess its political and humanitarian consequences, and to reexamine the stances of local and international actors. It also opens questions about the prospects of ceasefire, reconstruction, and legal accountability.

From the Nakba to the Siege
Since the late 19th century, the contours of the Palestinian struggle have taken shape alongside the rise of the Zionist movement and its pursuit of a national homeland for Jews. With the Balfour Declaration in 1917, this project gained international backing while disregarding the demographic and historical realities of Palestine.

In 1948, the establishment of the State of Israel following Britain’s withdrawal triggered the Nakba, the mass displacement of more than 750,000 Palestinians, the destruction of hundreds of villages, and Israeli control over 78% of historic Palestine. This was not merely a military campaign, but the beginning of a systematic restructuring of geography and demography. Then came the 1967 war, extending Israeli occupation to the West Bank, East Jerusalem, and Gaza, and opening the door to further settlement expansion.

In the 1990s, the Oslo Accords seemed to offer a political horizon through the creation of the Palestinian Authority — but that window soon closed due to failed negotiations, ongoing settlement expansion, and internal Palestinian divisions. What had once been a regional confrontation turned into a complex local conflict where geography collides with international law, and symbols intertwine with lived reality.

Since Israel’s 2005 withdrawal, Gaza has been under a crippling blockade, subjected to repeated wars that turned the strip into a perpetual battlefield — a laboratory for control, resistance, and humanitarian collapse.

The Moment Before the Explosion
On the morning of October 7, 2023, everything changed. That day was not simply the start of another war, but the eruption of long-suppressed rage — years of siege, humiliation, and abandonment compressed into a single explosion. Gaza, besieged for over 15 years, became a blazing stage where the collective Palestinian and Arab consciousness was reshaped, and the fragility of global power dynamics laid bare before a people’s cry for freedom.

The attack launched by Palestinian resistance was not spontaneous; it was the culmination of years of provocation — Israeli incursions into Al-Aqsa Mosque, the acceleration of settlement expansion, and forced evictions. The operation was a cry that said “Enough.” It redefined resistance and its relationship with the world.

What followed was a firestorm. A large-scale confrontation erupted between Israel and Hamas: a surprise assault involving thousands of rockets and cross-border incursions, met with Israel’s declaration of a state of emergency and a relentless military campaign — airstrikes, ground invasions, and unprecedented destruction.

Months of fighting left behind enormous human and material losses. Civilian casualties mounted amid accusations from both sides of violating international humanitarian law. The war triggered global debates over proportionality, accountability, and the future of the Palestinian cause.

Numbers That Cannot Tell the Whole Story
As the war raged, a humanitarian crisis unfolded that no statistic could fully capture. Gaza’s war, now entering its third year, is one of the deadliest in its modern history: More than 67160 people have been killed — thousands of them women and children — according to Gaza’s Ministry of Health. Independent estimates suggest the true toll may exceed 75,000 deaths. Over 169679 have been injured, many permanently disabled, blinded, or orphaned.

Infrastructure lies in ruins: hospitals, schools, water and power networks — with destruction surpassing 70% in some areas. Mass internal displacement has reached historic levels, forcing families to abandon homes, memories, and the fragile illusion of safety.

But numbers alone fail to convey the truth — the mother digging through rubble for her child, the elderly man clutching the key to his demolished house, the little girl writing her dead siblings’ names on a tent wall so they won’t be forgotten. This is pain beyond quantification — a living narrative told through every gaze, every silence, every heartbeat that refuses surrender.

Journalists: Witnesses of Truth and Casualties of the Battlefield
Amid smoke and shattered homes, Gaza’s journalists — men and women alike — stand not just as reporters but as guardians of memory. They write with blood before ink, chasing truth through flames. Despite blackouts, airstrikes, and targeted attacks on media offices, they persist, documenting life from the ruins with cameras as shields and notebooks as testaments.

By October 2025, 254 journalists had been killed, according to Gaza’s Government Media Office — reporters, photographers, correspondents, many dying while covering the events or inside their homes struck by bombs. These deaths sparked global outrage, for Gaza’s journalists do more than chronicle war — they restore names to the dead and meaning to the chaos. Their words carve a memory that cannot be erased.

Psychological and Social Impact
Beyond physical destruction, the psychological scars run deep — especially among children who have endured bombing, displacement, and loss. Cases of PTSD, anxiety, and depression have surged while mental health services remain scarce. Families and communities are strained by poverty, separation, and relentless uncertainty.

The war has also redefined gender roles. Women in Gaza, long bearing the burdens of daily survival, now shoulder dual responsibilities — providers and protectors amid collapse. Many entered informal or unstable work to sustain their families. While this shift demonstrates resilience, it occurred under immense pressure, lacking institutional support and deepening economic vulnerability.

With Gaza’s health system crippled, supply chains broken, and food insecurity rampant, malnutrition and disease spread — particularly among women and children, the most fragile of all.

Women at the Heart of Resistance
In times of war, women are often portrayed solely as victims. But in Gaza, their role transcends survival — they stand as organizers, caregivers, and chroniclers of resistance. In protests and public actions, women have led chants, coordinated demonstrations, and created safe spaces for children and the elderly. Their participation has been both symbolic and strategic — reclaiming the public sphere as a site of agency, defiance, and dignity.

Every Woman a Story, Every Story a Form of Resistance
This anniversary is not just about remembering pain — it is about reimagining resilience. Gaza has become more than a place; it is a symbol of endurance, a reminder that resistance is not only military, but narrative, ethical, and deeply human.

Every story told from beneath the rubble is an act of defiance. Every woman who keeps moving through fire is a living testimony that life refuses to die.

Women now stand as keepers of collective memory, as historians of grief and architects of survival. One woman, who rebuilt her home with a small bank loan, said: “I dreamed my children would grow up here, but the war turned my dream into a worn-out suitcase. My kitchen is now a corner in the ruins — this is my closet now.”

Others, like Somaya Al-Qanou, refused to evacuate even after their homes collapsed: “Leaving isn’t just moving somewhere else — it’s dismantling who we are.”

Noura Al-Lahham lost her son Ahmed while he searched for bread. “He came back in people’s arms, thin from hunger before the bullets reached him,” she says, holding his blood-stained cap in her tent, fearing her other children will follow.

Yasmeen Saleha no longer lets her sons fetch food — “bread has become a luxury.” Tahani Awad breaks down as she recalls the market, “a place where food exists — but not for us.”

Sisters Maria (10) and Ansam (8) lost their parents and twenty relatives in a single airstrike on Jabalia. Maria lost her right eye and dreams of becoming a doctor. Ansam, injured and walking with crutches, longs to run again. Their dreams are held hostage by the blockade that denies them treatment and education — over 352 schools destroyed or shut down.

In a shelter-turned-school, Khawla Hamdan survived a midnight strike that burned the room sheltering twenty people — mostly women and children. Four of her family members died. “I didn’t stay because I wanted to,” she says. “I stayed because I had no choice.” Her words echo the plight of thousands displaced with nothing left but tents — and memory.

Looking Ahead: Possible Scenarios for Gaza’s Future
Since the war began in October 2023, countless ceasefire efforts have faltered under competing political and military calculations. Temporary truces offered brief respites but no lasting peace.

The first truce, brokered by Egypt and Qatar, allowed limited aid but collapsed quickly as fighting resumed. A second ceasefire, in mid-2024 under mounting global pressure, lasted only weeks before breaking down amid mutual accusations of violations.

Then came Donald Trump’s “20-Point Plan” for ending the war — proposing an immediate ceasefire, the release of Israeli hostages, Palestinian prisoners’ freedom, and the disarmament of Hamas in exchange for amnesty and safe corridors. While presented as a comprehensive peace plan, it raised fears of political re-engineering: an international committee led by Trump himself overseeing Gaza under a technocratic Palestinian administration. Critics warned it could sideline Palestinian self-determination.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s rejection of Palestinian statehood further undercut the plan’s credibility.

Three scenarios now shape Gaza’s possible future:

1. Conditional calm: Partial acceptance of the plan, focused on humanitarian relief while avoiding core political issues.
2. Deferred explosion: A fragile truce that collapses amid mistrust, unresolved disarmament disputes, and absent timelines.
3. Political overhaul: Full international implementation with new governance in Gaza — possible only with internal Palestinian consensus and robust global guarantees.

In all outcomes, the voices of Gaza’s people remain absent from decision-making. Between failed ceasefires and external blueprints, Gaza stands at a crossroads — where geography meets politics, and blood meets policy.