By Abdikarim Haji Abdi Buh

The tragedy unfolding in Gaza is not an isolated or sudden conflict. It is the culmination of decades of calculated occupation, systemic ethnic cleansing, and the denial of basic human rights to a native people whose only crime is the desire to live freely in their ancestral homeland. The origins of the current catastrophe date back to the creation of the state of Israel in 1948, when European Jewish settlers, many of them survivors of the Holocaust and pogroms in Europe, arrived with the support of colonial powers and forcibly displaced over 700,000 Palestinians in what is now known as the Nakba, or “catastrophe.”

Palestinians were uprooted from their homes, villages were razed, and entire communities were permanently erased. While Israel was granted international legitimacy, the Palestinian people were left stateless, scattered across refugee camps in neighboring countries, or confined to the West Bank and Gaza Strip under increasing militarization and apartheid-like restrictions.

Today, Gaza stands as a symbol of resistance, suffering, and international failure. With over two million people living in a densely packed strip of land just 365 square kilometers in size, Gaza is often described as the world’s largest open-air prison. Its population, half of whom are children, have lived under a crippling Israeli blockade since 2007 that has rendered the territory unlivable according to the United Nations. Food, medicine, electricity, and clean water are scarce. Bombings are frequent. Unemployment is rampant. Hope is extinguished with each passing year.

Yet when Palestinians resist, when they fight back against decades of occupation, siege, and humiliation, they are branded as “terrorists” by much of the international media and Western political establishment. Their actions, no matter how rooted in international law and the right to self-determination, are criminalized. In contrast, when Israel unleashes its military might on a captive population—leveling residential buildings, targeting schools and hospitals, and killing civilians in masse—it is framed as “self-defense.”

This moral inversion is no accident. It is actively maintained by a powerful alliance led by the United States and supported by key Western allies such as the United Kingdom, Germany, Canada, and others. These nations provide Israel with the political, military, and diplomatic support it needs to wage its war on Gaza without accountability.

The United States alone gives Israel over $3.8 billion annually in military aid. During each escalation, Washington resupplies Israel with munitions, including bombs and artillery shells used to target dense civilian areas. In the United Nations Security Council, the U.S. has repeatedly used its veto power to block resolutions calling for a ceasefire, investigation into war crimes, or condemnation of Israel’s actions. This blanket protection ensures that Israel can act with impunity.

Israel may pull the trigger, but the gun is often supplied, loaded, and protected by the West.

What makes this moment particularly disheartening is the utter passivity, or in some cases complicity, of the Arab world. Decades ago, Arab solidarity with Palestine was a foundational principle. Pan-Arab unity, though never fully realized, was a rallying cry that demanded justice for Palestinians and the end of Zionist occupation. Today, that unity has crumbled under the weight of geopolitical calculations, fear of Western reprisal, and internal corruption.

At the time of this writing, several Gulf states are actively strengthening ties with Israel and the United States, even as Gaza lies in ruins. Saudi Arabia, one of the wealthiest and most influential nations in the Arab world, has opted for silence and diplomacy over action. Rather than leveraging its economic power to demand justice, it is hosting U.S. officials with grand ceremonies and signing trillion-dollar arms deals. One particularly grotesque example was the gifting of a luxury aircraft, palace in the sky—intended to replace the American presidential plane—to Donald Trump, all while Gaza faced a humanitarian catastrophe.

The United Arab Emirates and Bahrain, which normalized relations with Israel under the Abraham Accords, have shown little inclination to pressure their new ally over its conduct in Gaza. Instead, these governments appear more interested in securing economic partnerships and surveillance technology than in defending Palestinian lives.

Perhaps most egregious is the role of Egypt, which controls the Rafah border crossing—Gaza’s only non-Israeli-controlled access point to the outside world. Despite the mounting humanitarian crisis, Egypt has severely restricted the movement of aid, medical supplies, and even ambulances into Gaza. The Egyptian regime, under President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, appears more concerned with maintaining its strategic alliance with Israel and the U.S. than with alleviating the suffering of fellow Arabs. This policy of obstruction has directly contributed to the starvation and lack of medical treatment facing civilians in Gaza.

Jordan, home to a large Palestinian population and historically vocal on the issue, has offered little more than symbolic gestures. Its leadership has failed to take meaningful action, whether by expelling ambassadors, suspending treaties, or mobilizing public diplomacy. The pattern is tragically clear: Arab states are unwilling to risk their comfort, alliances, or wealth for the sake of Gaza.

Contrast this with the popular sentiment across the Arab and Muslim world, where millions have taken to the streets to protest in solidarity with Palestine. These demonstrations reveal a growing chasm between the people and their governments. While regimes seek normalization with Israel, their citizens are demanding justice, dignity, and liberation for Palestinians.

It is not an exaggeration to say that if Gaza were located in Africa, the response might have been different. The African Union and many African states have taken principled stances on issues of sovereignty, decolonization, and self-determination. The moral clarity and historical memory of colonialism remain strong in much of Africa. It is entirely conceivable that a genocidal assault on an African population would be met with diplomatic and even military consequences from neighboring countries.

In the case of Gaza, however, the Arab regimes—with all their wealth, armies, and diplomatic influence—have done nothing. No sanctions. No oil embargo. No closure of embassies. No invocation of international law. This failure to act amounts to complicity.

The Arab world must confront a painful truth: the Palestinian cause, once at the heart of Arab identity and politics, has been abandoned by the very governments that once championed it. Israel’s campaign in Gaza is not only made possible by Western backing but by Arab inaction. The genocide is being broadcast in real-time, yet the international community—especially those with the power to stop it—refuse to intervene.

What is happening in Gaza is not a war. It is not a conflict between equals. It is a massacre, a siege, a deliberate effort to erase a people from their land. And it is being carried out with full knowledge and support from some of the most powerful nations on Earth, while the supposed defenders of the Palestinian cause stand idly by.

History will not forget this moment. It will not forget who provided the weapons, who blocked the aid, who issued the vetoes, and who remained silent. And it will not forget the people of Gaza, who continue to resist, survive, and assert their humanity against overwhelming odds.

The time for words has passed. If there is any hope of justice, it will require not just solidarity from the people of the world, but bold and tangible action from governments—especially those in the Arab world. Until then, Gaza bleeds, and the world watches.

Abdikarim Haji Abdi Buh 
Email: abdikarimbuh@yahoo.com