Image Credit: Hosny Salah
The illusion of peace has shattered once again. In Gaza and southern Israel, bombs continue to fall despite a supposed ceasefire, and the fragile truce that diplomats hailed as progress now lies in ruins. Each side blames the other for the renewed violence—Israel accusing Hamas of firing mortar shells at soldiers near the border, and Hamas claiming Israel continues to bomb residential areas in Raqqa and Khan Younis. In this cruel symmetry of accusation, civilians bear the consequences.
Israel’s decision to shut off all humanitarian aid into Gaza has intensified despair. Hospitals run generators on fumes, bakeries have gone dark, and water supplies are nearly gone. The international community pleads for restraint, but neither side is listening. The “peace agreement” remains technically in place, but it has become a hollow phrase—a political fiction that conceals the grim reality that neither side ever truly believed in it. It was, from the beginning, a ceasefire of convenience, not conviction.
The human toll deepens with every passing day. Families dig through rubble to find relatives. Children are buried next to parents. Aid convoys, once the lifeline of Gaza, sit idle at closed checkpoints. Israel argues that Hamas abuses humanitarian channels to smuggle weapons. Hamas insists that the blockade is collective punishment. The truth lies tangled somewhere in between—a web of fear, retaliation, and politics where truth itself has become a casualty.
The world’s attention flickers in and out. Diplomats issue statements; mediators shuttle between capitals; but the deeper conflict remains unaddressed. This war is not merely about borders or rockets—it’s about history, identity, and revenge. The peace process was never built to hold that weight. It is as fragile as the paper it’s written on, and as temporary as the silence between air raids.
For Israelis living under constant threat, security feels like survival. For Gazans living under siege, survival itself feels like defiance. Both sides invoke justice; both claim God. Yet the bombs fall indiscriminately, reminding everyone that in war, righteousness offers no protection. Until leaders on both sides choose courage over calculation, the sound of explosions will drown out the whispers of diplomacy. The ceasefire exists in name only, and peace remains the one casualty that never rises again.
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