Gaza is not only a story of buildings reduced to rubble. It is a story about what happens when the physical conditions of urban life—homes, hospitals, universities, roads, water systems, memory and community—are progressively dismantled. There is a word for the destruction of a city that captures something the language of “damage” cannot fully express: urbicide . The term is at the center of Mourad Benguita’s important 2025 research article, “Urbicide in Israel’s War on Gaza: Architecture of Erasure and the Unmaking of Urban Life (2023–2025),” published in Filistin Araştırmaları Dergisi / Bulletin of Palestine Studies . The article examines Gaza not simply as a battlefield but as an urban environment whose physical and social foundations have been subjected to extraordinary destruction. And this distinction matters. Because when a house collapses, we see a destroyed building. When an entire neighborhood disappears, we begin to see something else. When hospitals, schools, unive...
There is a special kind of cruelty in watching not only a society collapse, but also the last institutions keeping it alive. For nearly three years, Gaza's humanitarian lifeline has increasingly been reduced to a queue for a single meal. Parents no longer ask their children what they would like to eat. They ask whether there will be anything to eat at all. Childhood has become measured not in birthdays, classrooms, or family gatherings, but in ration lines, empty cooking pots, and the uncertain arrival of humanitarian assistance. Now even those fragile lifelines are disappearing. The gradual closure and scaling back of World Central Kitchen (WCK) operations reflects a convergence of financial pressures, operational insecurity, and restrictions affecting humanitarian access. According to World Central Kitchen and the Israeli human rights organization B'Tselem, kitchens that once produced approximately one million meals each day have been progressively reduced, leaving only a han...