Gaza ceasefire: a fragile calm amid an endless conflict The Israeli-Palestinian conflict

There is no doubt that the announcement of the ceasefire agreement in Gaza represents a decisive moment in the ongoing conflict. For those of us who witnessed, experienced, then watched, grieved, and defended from afar, this cessation in hostilities offers an opportunity to reflect on the past 15 months, and the heavy price paid for this fleeting calm.

As a Palestinian, receiving this news feels like standing in the eye of the storm, in a moment of ghostly calm surrounded by chaos and destruction. For me, at least it represents an end to the bloodshed, but the truth is that the people we lost will never come back, and these scars will never heal. How can a ceasefire change this fact?

Ceasefires are often hailed as victories for diplomacy, but for me, they are more like a temporary pause in an ongoing nightmare. This latest agreement is a reminder that survival for the people of Gaza often depends on the fragility of politics. Children, mothers and fathers bear the unbearable weight of uncertainty. I find myself wondering: Is this truly a step toward peace, or just another chapter in a story of delayed justice and extended suffering?

The terms of the ceasefire, which was reached under enormous international pressure, include a halt to air strikes and rocket fire, along with provisions allowing humanitarian aid into Gaza. These measures are urgently needed. But their necessity also constitutes an indictment of the international community’s failure to act urgently to prevent the crises that make such measures crucial. Aid is vital, but it cannot heal the wide-open, bleeding wounds of oppression. Temporary peace cannot replace the right to live freely and dream beyond survival.

The International Court of Justice, the International Criminal Court, and their arrest warrants, which were supposed to address crimes against our people, have been overshadowed by political inaction. Will the world follow through on these mechanisms when the war ends, or will justice be buried under a mountain of bureaucracy and indifference? The failure to enforce accountability before, during, and after conflict reveals the depth of the flaws in these institutions.

Aid is vital, but it cannot heal the wounds of oppression. Temporary peace cannot replace the right to live freely and dream beyond survival. This raises another crucial question: Will Palestinians one day gain their rights to full control over their political and diplomatic path toward justice, or will they always be excluded from the political stage and portrayed as befitting the role of victim? Although international recognition of our plight is crucial, we must chart the path toward independence from untrustworthy global powers.

For Palestinians, especially those living in Gaza, the blockade is a special kind of war. It’s violence without the bombs, but it’s no less destructive. The blockade, now in its seventeenth year, has eroded the fabric of life. It has robbed families of opportunities, denied them access to basic rights, and imposed a daily struggle that defies the limits of human endurance. How can we rebuild life in such conditions, knowing that the ceasefire may collapse as quickly as it came? How do we dream of the future when the present seems like an eternal state of mourning?

During the war, decisions such as halting funding for the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees (UNRWA) exacerbated the humanitarian crisis. The inability of the international community, including entities as disparate as the United Nations, the G8, or the BRICS, to intervene in a timely manner to restore the vital lifelines of Palestinians, further highlights its failure to protect civilian lives and respect humanitarian law. What happens when safety nets, already very fragile, are arbitrarily stripped away without global resistance strong enough to mitigate the crisis?

The international community, especially Western powers, must confront the role they play in maintaining this cycle. Statements of support for a ceasefire ring hollow when they are not accompanied by meaningful action, accountability, protection of civilians, and a real commitment to addressing the root causes of this conflict. The imbalance of power, the reality of brutal occupation, and the stifling siege – are not marginal issues. They are the core of the problem.

How can we trust the same US administration – now led by Biden and soon Trump – that has pushed for a ceasefire while its actions have continually undermined peace in the region? The decisions made by the first administration of President-elect Donald Trump to move the US Embassy to Jerusalem and recognize the Golan Heights as part of Israel are a stark reminder of an agenda that prioritizes power over justice. Moreover, the fear remains that this administration will shift its focus to the West Bank, and transfer the same policies of violence and displacement there. Such decisions show that any cessation of violence does not mean a shift in policy or priorities.

As I process this moment, I feel a flash of hope and a wave of anger. Hope that this pause will save lives, and anger that it has taken so much suffering to reach even this fragile point. The cameras will soon be off, and the world’s attention will turn, but for us, this is not the end. A ceasefire is not peace. These are moments of calm in an endless storm. Until justice is achieved, until dignity and equality become more than pipe dreams, the cycle will continue.

This does not diminish the importance of the ceasefire for those whose lives are on the line every day. For many, it means the difference between life and death. But as a Palestinian, I cannot ignore the deeper truth: peace is not simply the absence of war. It is the presence of justice. It is the freedom to live without fear, to rebuild without the certainty of destruction, and to dream without limits. Anything less is not peace. It’s survival. Survival is not enough for people who deserve so much more.

The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Al Jazeera.