Fragile Truce Under Strain: Gaza Sees Surge in Violence Months After Ceasefire
JERUSALEM (AP) — The fragile calm in Gaza is unraveling. As the bodies of Palestinians killed in recent Israeli airstrikes were brought into hospitals this week, a desperate question from a leading doctor underscored a growing sentiment: the ceasefire, brokered last October, is failing those it was meant to protect.
"Where is the ceasefire? Where are the mediators?" wrote Dr. Mohamed Abu Selmiya, director of Gaza's Shifa Hospital, on social media following Wednesday's strikes. His plea resonates across the besieged coastal enclave, where hope for lasting peace is giving way to renewed fear.
According to the Hamas-run Gaza Health Ministry, Israeli strikes have killed at least 556 Palestinians since the truce took effect, including 24 on Wednesday and 30 the previous Saturday. The Israeli military reports four soldiers killed in Gaza during the same period, with several others wounded, including one severely injured in an overnight attack near the ceasefire line in northern Gaza.
The October agreement, championed by the U.S., aimed to end the war triggered by Hamas's October 2023 attack on Israel. While it successfully secured the release of all living Israeli hostages in exchange for Palestinian prisoners, its broader ambitions have largely stalled. Critical components—like the deployment of an international security force, the disarmament of Hamas, and the massive reconstruction of Gaza—remain in deadlock. A symbolic opening of the Rafah border crossing with Egypt has done little to alleviate the crisis, with only a trickle of people allowed passage.
"The ceasefire exists on paper, but not in the reality of our daily lives," said Amal Hassan, a teacher and mother of three displaced in Khan Younis. "We hear the word 'truce,' but we see explosions, we bury children, and we live in tents. The world's promises have turned to dust."
Both sides accuse the other of violating the agreement. Israel maintains its operations are defensive responses to Hamas militants operating beyond demarcated zones. Hamas and Palestinian officials condemn Israeli strikes, often in populated areas far from the front lines, as blatant violations. The dispute over the return of hostages' remains—which took months longer than the agreed 72 hours—further poisoned the atmosphere, with each side blaming the other for the delay.
Humanitarian aid, a cornerstone of the ceasefire, continues to fall desperately short of needs. UN agencies cite logistical hurdles and clearance delays, while Israeli authorities deny the claims. For Gaza's 2 million residents, the result is the same: a protracted humanitarian crisis with no end in sight.
David Chen, a security analyst based in Tel Aviv, offered a measured perspective: "The ceasefire was always a mechanism to pause hostilities, not to resolve the deep-seated political conflicts. The current violence, while tragic, is a predictable symptom of the agreement's unresolved core issues—namely, who governs Gaza and how security is ensured. The alternative, however, is a return to full-scale war, which neither side appears to want at this moment."
In contrast, Markus Thorne, a former diplomat and outspoken critic, was scathing: "This isn't a ceasefire; it's a sanctioned simmering conflict. The international community pats itself on the back for a 'deal' while allowing a status quo of periodic airstrikes and civilian deaths to continue. It's a failure of diplomacy and a moral abdication. Calling this peace is an insult to every life lost since October."
Despite the violence, some faint signs of political process persist. The formation of a Palestinian committee to oversee Gaza's governance and reconstruction indicates a reluctant engagement from stakeholders. U.S. officials continue to push for a transition from ceasefire to long-term demilitarization and rebuilding.
Yet on the ground, despair is the dominant currency. Atallah Abu Hadaiyed, who lost cousins in a recent strike, voiced the confusion and exhaustion of many: "We don’t know if we’re at war or at peace." As he spoke from a displacement camp, the wind tore at the makeshift shelter behind him—a fitting metaphor for the tenuous state of a truce that seems to be coming apart at the seams.
Associated Press reporter Wafaa Shurafa in Deir al-Balah, Gaza Strip, contributed to this report.