On the 17th night of Ramadan – a time meant for prayer, reflection and mercy – Gaza burned. Once again, our screens fill with images too harrowing to describe: tiny bodies wrapped in bloodstained cloth, fathers carrying their children’s remains in plastic bags, mothers screaming into skies that rain death instead of mercy. In less than an hour, Israeli airstrikes killed more than 350 Palestinians, including 90 children. Entire families wiped out as bombs fell on areas Israel itself had designated as “safe zones”, turning supposed sanctuaries into mass graves.
This was not merely a resumption of violence. This is the continuation of a genocide that never truly paused, only ebbed enough to vanish from headlines while Palestinians continued to die by the dozens daily. The heaviness of this moment is unbearable, bringing back the brokenness of the past year that has not yet healed. For this slaughter to continue while the world watches reveals how deeply indifferent global powers have become to Palestinian suffering, how thoroughly dehumanized an entire people must be for their massacre to be debated as a matter of “security concerns”.
These newest atrocities underscore the ongoing reality that Palestinians have faced for months now. In the ruins of Gaza, amid the countlessly violated “ceasefire”, Palestinians confront not only the monumental task of rebuilding but also a struggle for who will control their future. Since 2 March, Israel has not allowed in any aid, most importantly food and reconstruction resources, while Palestinians starve through Ramadan. As families return to find neighborhoods reduced to rubble, they face competing visions for Gaza’s reconstruction – including proposals that threaten their very existence on the land.
Donald Trump recently suggested transforming Gaza into a “riviera of the Middle East” by resettling its 1.8 million Palestinian residents elsewhere. This proposal reveals a profound misunderstanding of our connection to our homeland, a connection that transcends mere residence and forms the core of Palestinian identity.
When outsiders ask why Palestinians don’t leave Gaza, or the increasingly genocidal violence in the West Bank, they fail to grasp that this land isn’t just where we live – it’s who we are. Our relationship with this soil has been cultivated through generations. Since 1967, Israel has systematically uprooted at least 2.5m trees in the occupied Palestinian territory, including nearly 1m olive trees. The olive trees that dot our landscape embody our history, resilience and indigeneity to the land – cultivated over generations of displacement.
The question isn’t why Palestinians return to destroyed neighborhoods – it’s why anyone would expect us not to. Palestinians return because Gaza is home. The rubble beneath their feet isn’t debris; it contains memories, histories and the foundations of homes where generations were born and buried. Where the rubble has become a mass grave for 50,000 Palestinians.
According to the UN’s latest assessment, rebuilding Gaza and the West Bank will require $53.2bn over the next decade: $29.9bn for physical infrastructure and $19.1bn for economic and social losses. These reconstruction efforts the result of 85,000 tons of bombs being indiscriminately dropped over the total area of Gaza. Behind these staggering figures lies a more fundamental question: will Palestinians be allowed to rebuild, or will they be rebuilt over?
The answer must be Palestinians themselves. The future of Palestine will be determined by, with, and for Palestinians – no matter the form we choose. It is not for the United States, Israel, or the Arab states, who stood by as our people died, to decide what is best for us. Without Palestinians, rebuilding efforts merely perpetuate the cycle of violence and dispossession. We are not pieces on their geopolitical chessboard. We are a people with an inalienable right to self-determination, and reconstruction must serve that right – not subvert it.
The immediate challenges are overwhelming. Over 80% of Gaza’s physical infrastructure has been decimated – roads, power plants, water facilities, schools, universities and every hospital, in contravention of international law and basic morality. The removal of more than 50m tons of rubble and unexploded ordnance will require decades to clear and restore semblance of normalcy.
Yet amid this devastation, Palestinians demonstrate remarkable resilience. Journalists have documented people returning to northern Gaza, setting up tents in demolition sites, and even beginning construction work on new buildings. The “ceasefire” stipulated that 60,000 trailers and 200,000 tents should have entered Gaza to help house the forcibly displaced Palestinians – only 20,000 tents and no trailers have entered as Israel obstructs aid. However, Israel did deliver bombs as children slept; 70% of those murderedsince Israel resumed its violence have been women and children. In Jabalia, men were seen building the walls of their destroyed home – a powerful symbol of determination to remain. There has been total destruction, but Palestinians remain steadfast like firm mountains. Palestinians are rooted in the land, there is no alternative.
Does Israel think when it destroyed the stones, Palestinians will leave? As if their cities were not already built on the bones of our ancestors.
This determination isn’t naive optimism, it is a recognition that to exist is to resist. We will not ask permission to narrate our pain. We will not wait for perfect victimhood to earn our humanity. Gaza is the site of resistance, rooted in every olive tree, every seed, every grave. We don’t build because we’re certain our homes will stand forever; we build because to stop building is to surrender. After previous bombardments, Gazans would collect concrete from destroyed houses to be crushed into gravel for new structures. Others extracted rebar from damaged walls to reinforce new construction.
In the same interview, Trump also suggested Palestinians should leave so they no longer have to be “worried about dying”. Palestinians aren’t afraid of death – we’re afraid of being killed systematically. The solution isn’t removing the victims but stopping those doing the killing. Gaza doesn’t need redesigning as if it were an empty hotel room; it needs an end to the cycle of destruction.
When I think about what Palestinians hope for, I’m struck by how basic their dreams are. Palestinians want to get jobs, build homes, visit the beach, perhaps travel knowing they can return. Palestinians dream of an airport, a seaport, welcoming tourists, praying at Al-Aqsa mosque, and returning to villages where their grandparents lived.
What Gaza needs now is immediate: it needs life restored, urgently and unapologetically. It needs teachers for children who have been denied not just classrooms, but childhood itself. It needs dignified burials for the dead, those whose names are scribbled on their limbs so they might be recognized beneath the rubble. It needs seeds and soil, not just to replant crops, but feed those forcibly starved. It needs hospitals where women are not forced to give birth without anesthetics, where the wounded are not condemned to die for lack of electricity.
And above all, Gaza needs the world to see Palestinians as people – people deserving of life, freedom and solidarity.
While international support is crucial, it cannot come with strings that undermine Palestinian sovereignty. Foreign aid should not be conditioned on accepting foreign control. It should not be leveraged to force political concessions or normalize relations with an occupying power. True solidarity means supporting Palestinian-led reconstruction without imposing external agendas.
The February letter from Arab foreign ministers to the secretary of state, Marco Rubio, speaks of implementing “a plan to realize the two-state solution”. However, any plan must begin with recognizing Palestinian agency. Without meaningful Palestinian participation, without respecting our right to choose our own political future, such plans remain hollow gestures. And expecting Palestinians to accept a solution from those who attempted to erase them completely is like asking the wounded to trust the hand that still holds the bloody knife.
The challenges ahead are enormous, but so is Palestinian determination. As Israel continues to bomb starving Palestinians, their refusal to abandon our land isn’t stubbornness but existence itself. As Israel continues to murder Palestinian journalists, like Hossam Shabat, we will make sure the world not only sees their crimes, but remembers them. In the face of those who would make our lives impossible, we will continue to find ways to remain. We will rebuild not according to someone else’s vision but according to our own needs and aspirations.
This rebuilding is more than reconstruction – it is resistance. It is our refusal to be erased, our determination to remain and our unwavering belief in our right to exist on our land. Nothing is more important than staying. Nothing is more revolutionary than returning. And nothing is more certain than that we will rebuild Palestine with our own hands, for our own people, on our own terms.
Source: The Guardian