With every truce or ceasefire in Gaza, attention turns to talking about reconstruction. Promises are made and conferences are held, and the same question is asked every time: “When will Gaza return to what it was?” However, this question does not touch on the depth of the issue, as the issue concerns more than the restoration of buildings and streets, as the tragedy lies in the loss of lives, the displacement of families, and the distortion of the collective memory that is renewed and bleeding with every war.
Talking about reconstruction has become a recurring ritual since the Nakba. As soon as a round of fighting ends, international statements pour in, and promises begin to raise money to repair what was destroyed. In 2014, for example, the Cairo Conference for the Reconstruction of Gaza was held, and regional and international initiatives were repeated after it, pledging to restore the remaining infrastructure. And with each time, work begins and the city rises, and then we return to square one with the first. A new missile, and Gaza returns to its starting point, in a renewed cycle of destruction that keeps it trapped in an endless wait since the Nakba.
This repetition created what looked like a collective illusion, as talk about reconstruction turned into a discourse that covered up the original crime and diverted attention from real accountability. When the headlines were preoccupied with promises of rebuilding, the responsibility of holding those who destroyed accountable disappeared behind them, and the tragedy turned into an administrative file discussed in conferences, instead of being an issue of justice and fairness.
A ceasefire stops the bleeding, but it does not heal the wounds. The war in Gaza, in addition to being a destruction of the town and its infrastructure, is an uprooting of memory, a tearing of the human fabric, and annihilation of the structures of life in its emotional meaning. It opened up the rubble, there are burned homes, and stories of children, mothers, and fathers. Each of them has a story of loss and pain that cannot be summed up by a single number. This destruction is a profound human impact that touches… The essence of existence itself.
Celebrating steadfastness does not mean going beyond the tragedy, and excessive glorification of the symbolic victory without referring to the depth of the loss strips the suffering of its human dimension, and turns the victims into abstract symbols. Gaza, before being a symbol of resistance, is an afflicted society that has lost its children, its homes, and its memory, and justice requires that it be viewed with the scales of mercy before it is narrated with the tongue of heroism.
However, amidst the rubble and smoke, another narrative is being formed that people are circulating across platforms: “Gaza is not broken.” This phrase summarizes the deeper meaning of steadfastness, because it reflects the will of the Gazan man to continue despite all the siege, deprivation, displacement, and destruction he faced. This steadfastness is not measured by the moral military results achieved by Gaza, but rather by the ability of the Gazan man to maintain With his dignity and faith in life.
This flexibility shown by the Gazans is a declaration of their adherence to their right to exist. Every school reopened, every market returned to movement, and every child smiling despite fear, is a form of resistance that does not require weapons. It is the resistance of life itself to death, and an embodiment of the strength of the spirit associated with the Holy Land that refuses to be broken before the machine of war and occupation.
Hence, the Gaza narrative should not be limited to reconstruction or even a ceasefire. The real priorities begin with accountability, and with the recognition of what happened as a crime of genocide that requires international justice. Rebuilding the stone is meaningless without rebuilding the human being inside whom everything was shattered, and the moral duty today is to support this human being, nurture his memory, and document his suffering, so that the disaster does not turn into just a new chapter in the annals of wars. Forgotten.
Gaza today represents the human conscience being tested before the eyes of the world, and a true test of the idea of international justice. Resilience in it goes beyond political slogans, as it is an act of survival that defies the logic of power. Supporting this steadfastness, affirming the right to a decent life, and perpetuating the narrative of justice and the narrative that Gaza has not been broken, is the first step towards a world that recognizes the humanity of the Gazans as survivors of war, and as witnesses to what it means for a human being to remain human despite… everything.
