Israel's Restriction of Food to Gaza

 How do you measure misery? For journalists, it's often through direct experience — seeing it, feeling it, even smelling it.

In Gaza, our courageous Palestinian colleagues continue to report under extreme conditions, risking their lives to provide critical coverage. More than 200 journalists have been killed in the line of duty.

International journalists are barred by Israel from entering Gaza.

Without the ability to witness events firsthand — one of journalism’s most vital tools — we must rely on reports and assessments from aid organizations working on the ground.

Pascal Hundt, deputy director of operations at the International Committee of the Red Cross, warned last week that civilians in Gaza face "an overwhelming daily struggle to survive the dangers of hostilities, cope with relentless displacement, and endure the consequences of being deprived of urgent humanitarian assistance."

He added: "This situation must not—and cannot—be allowed to escalate further."

Yet escalation appears likely, following Israel’s renewed military campaign that began on 18 March with a large-scale air assault, ending a two-month ceasefire.

Since early March, Israel has sealed Gaza’s borders, halting all humanitarian aid, including critical food and medical supplies.

The collapse of the truce also ended hopes for the implementation of its second phase, in which Israel and Hamas had reportedly agreed to a full hostage release in exchange for a complete Israeli withdrawal from Gaza.

That deal was rejected by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and key figures in his ruling coalition, particularly ultra-nationalist religious factions that have threatened to bring down his government should he agree to a withdrawal.

These groups support resettling Jewish Israelis in Gaza and oppose any return of Palestinian control. For Netanyahu, acceding to their demands is politically essential — his ouster could open the door to a reckoning over his government's failure to prevent the 7 October 2023 Hamas attacks, as well as potentially reigniting his long-running corruption trial.

Netanyahu is now pledging a renewed and “intense” military offensive in Gaza, expected to begin shortly after former U.S. President Donald Trump concludes his diplomatic tour of wealthy Gulf states later this week.

This offensive is expected to involve widespread displacement of Palestinian civilians, alongside heavy airstrikes and artillery fire. The term “displacement” understates the trauma — it means families having just minutes to flee one area under threat, only to take shelter in another that may soon be targeted. Hundreds of thousands have already endured this cycle repeatedly since the war began.

Before the war, Gaza was already one of the most densely populated places on Earth. Now, Israel’s military strategy appears aimed at pushing as many Palestinians as possible into a narrow zone in the far south, near the ruins of Rafah—a town that has been almost completely destroyed.

Even before this next stage unfolds, the UN estimates that around 70% of Gaza is already inaccessible to its residents. The Israeli plan would confine them to an even smaller, devastated area.

Israel claims that Hamas diverts aid entering Gaza, but the UN and major humanitarian organizations reject this, stating there is no credible evidence to support such assertions. As a result, they have refused to participate in an Israel–U.S. backed proposal to use private security firms, under Israeli military protection, to manage the distribution of aid.

In London, Philippe Lazzarini, commissioner-general of UNRWA—the UN agency for Palestinian refugees—told me he is running out of words to convey the scale of the crisis. “They have now been more than two months without any aid,” he said.

“Starvation is spreading, people are exhausted, people are hungry... If no aid comes in, we can expect that people will not die because of bombardment, but from a lack of food. This is the weaponisation of humanitarian aid.”

For a data-driven assessment, the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC)—a collaboration between UN agencies, NGOs, and governments—offers the clearest picture. Their latest update indicates that Gaza is nearing famine. The entire population—more than two million people, nearly half of them children—is facing acute food insecurity. In plain terms, this means that they are being starved, largely due to Israel's blockade.

According to the IPC, 470,000 people—22% of Gaza’s population—are now in “Phase 5: Catastrophe,” the highest level of crisis the agency identifies. This designation means that at least one in five households is enduring extreme food shortages, severe malnutrition, and the imminent threat of death from starvation.

The IPC warns that 71,000 children and over 17,000 mothers urgently need treatment for acute malnutrition.

Meanwhile, thousands of tons of food, medicine, and other essential supplies sit just miles away on the Egyptian side of the border—out of reach.

In London, I asked Philippe Lazzarini, Commissioner-General of UNRWA, whether he agreed with those who accuse Israel of using food and humanitarian aid as a weapon of war against civilians.

“I have absolutely no doubt,” he responded. “This is what we have witnessed over the last 19 months, especially during the last two. That’s a war crime. The legal classification will come from the International Court of Justice, not from me. But what we observe is clear: food and humanitarian assistance are being used to achieve political or military objectives in the context of Gaza.”

I then asked whether the blockade—on top of 19 months of war and widespread destruction—could constitute genocide, echoing the charge brought by South Africa and other states at the ICJ in The Hague.

“By any account, the destruction is massive. The number of people killed is enormous, and certainly underestimated,” Lazzarini said. “We’ve seen systematic destruction of schools, health centres. People have been constantly displaced—pinballs within Gaza. There’s no doubt we are witnessing massive atrocities. Genocide? It could amount to genocide. Many elements point in that direction.”

Israel's Defense Minister, Yoav Gallant, and National Security Minister, Itamar Ben-Gvir, have been open about the government's tactics. Last month, Gallant described the blockade as a “main pressure lever” to defeat Hamas and secure the release of Israeli hostages. Ben-Gvir echoed that view, stating: “The cessation of humanitarian aid is one of the main levers of pressure on Hamas. Resuming aid before Hamas is on its knees and releases all our hostages would be a historic mistake.”

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s plans for a new military offensive, along with these remarks, have drawn sharp criticism from families of the hostages still held in Gaza. The Hostages and Missing Families Forum, representing many of them, accused Minister Gallant of pushing an “illusion,” saying, “Israel is choosing to seize territory before rescuing the hostages.”

Dissent has also emerged within Israel’s military. A group of air force reservists, including 1,200 pilots, signed an open letter protesting what they see as a war being prolonged not for national security, but for the political survival of the current government. “Continuing the war now serves political and personal interests—not security ones,” they wrote. Netanyahu dismissed the signatories as a handful of “bad apples.”

For months, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government has accused UNRWA chief Philippe Lazzarini of spreading falsehoods. A January report published by Israel’s foreign‑ministry website, titled “Dismantling UNRWA Chief Lazzarini’s Falsehoods,” asserted that he had “consistently made false statements” that distorted public debate. Israel also contends that Hamas has infiltrated UNRWA to an unprecedented degree and claims several staff members took part in the 7 October attacks.

Lazzarini rejects both the personal accusations and the broader allegations against UNRWA. He says the agency investigated all 19 employees named by Israel, found nine who “may have a case to answer,” and suspended the entire group. Since then, Israel has sent “hundreds of allegations,” he notes, but “has never provided the substantiated information we requested.”

As in every Israel‑Palestine conflict, political narratives drive the war as fiercely as weapons. Israel argues that its campaign is lawful self‑defence after Hamas and allied militants killed roughly 1,200 people—mostly civilians—and abducted 251 on 7 October 2023. Palestinians, backed by a growing number of states (including some of Israel’s traditional European partners), counter that Israel’s response constitutes the most devastating assault on Palestinians since the 1948 war they call the Nakba, or “catastrophe.”

Even U.S. President Donald Trump, hitherto one of Netanyahu’s staunchest allies, has lately urged that Gaza’s civilian population “must be fed.”

The charge that Israel’s total blockade amounts to genocidal intent has enraged Netanyahu’s coalition, yet it has also united much of Israel’s political spectrum. Opposition leader Yair Lapid—typically a fierce critic of the prime minister—called the accusation at The Hague “a moral collapse and a moral disaster.”

Genocide is legally defined as acts committed with intent to destroy, entirely or in part, a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group. The International Criminal Court has issued arrest warrants for Netanyahu and his former defence minister on war‑crimes charges—allegations they reject. Three Hamas leaders named in the same warrants have since been killed by Israeli forces.

Lazzarini warns that the war’s long‑term consequences will be grim. “In the years ahead, we will realise how wrong we have been—on the wrong side of history,” he says. “Under our watch we let a massive atrocity unfold.”

He traces the tragedy back to Hamas’s 7 October assault—“the largest killing of Israelis and Jews in the region since World War II”—and Israel’s ensuing response, which he calls “disproportionate, almost annihilating an entire population in its homeland.” The wider international community, he adds, bears “collective responsibility” for its “passivity and indifference”—a betrayal of the post‑Holocaust vow of “never again.”

Looking forward, some in Israel’s far‑right see opportunity in former President Trump’s “Dubai‑on‑the‑Mediterranean” vision—a rebuilt Gaza, bankrolled by wealthy investors, but without its Palestinian inhabitants. For hard‑line Israeli nationalists, that idea aligns with long‑standing dreams of removing Palestinians from the land between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea.