As Gaza burns, the moral foundation of international support for Israel has begun to crack

Indian Express

26-05-2025

Written by Sujata Ashwarya
For decades, Israel has relied on the political cover of its closest allies, the United States, Britain, France, Canada, and Germany, during its periodic military operations in the Gaza Strip. These offensives were often described by Israeli military officials as 'mowing the grass,' a cynical phrase implying that occasional large-scale strikes are necessary to keep Hamas's strength in check. But as Gaza smoulders under one of the most destructive military campaigns in recent history, the moral and political foundations of international support to Israel are beginning to crack.
In a rare joint statement last week, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer, French President Emmanuel Macron, and Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney condemned Israel's ongoing assault on Gaza as 'wholly disproportionate'. They criticised the continued blockade of humanitarian aid, denounced incendiary statements by members of Netanyahu's cabinet, and warned that Israel's actions 'will have consequences'. Britain went further, suspending free-trade negotiations with Israel and imposing sanctions on individuals linked to illegal settlement activity in the West Bank.
While these leaders reaffirmed Israel's right to defend itself, especially after Hamas's brutal attack on October 7, 2023, which left 1,200 Israelis dead and more than 250 taken hostage, they stopped short of offering unconditional backing. Instead, their joint statement voiced support for US-led ceasefire efforts and reaffirmed a commitment to recognising a Palestinian state as part of a two-state solution.
It is a significant shift. For years, these countries have shielded Israel diplomatically, even as the humanitarian toll of its military operations raised questions. But the current war has crossed a threshold. Since Israel started its offensive after October 7 (which resumed this March after a brief, fragile ceasefire in January), over 53,900 Palestinians, many of them civilians, have been killed, according to Gaza's health authorities. Entire neighbourhoods have been flattened. Hospitals, schools, and water treatment plants lie in ruins. Gaza has also faced a complete electricity blackout, when Israel cut off supplies paid for by the Palestinian Authority, shutting down the territory's only power plant. Most of Gaza's population has been displaced, and hunger is now being used as a weapon, with medical aid and food supplies blocked at border crossings.
The destruction has prompted not only political backlash but also a deeper reckoning with the assumptions that have guided international policy since Hamas took control of Gaza in 2007.
To understand how we got here, we must revisit that pivotal year. After Hamas's landslide victory in the January 2006 Palestinian Legislative Council elections, a vote encouraged at the time by international actors, most of the world turned its back. The group's refusal to meet the Quartet's conditions, including recognising Israel and honouring previous peace agreements, led to sanctions and diplomatic isolation. Hamas's efforts to share power with Fatah through a national unity government failed amid rising tensions and violence. By June 2007, after a brief but brutal civil conflict in Gaza, Hamas had taken control of the Strip, expelling Fatah officials and severing the Palestinian polity in two.
This rupture reflected a deeper ideological divide within Palestinian society: Between those who believed in state-building and negotiations, and those who saw resistance as the only viable path under occupation and siege. Fatah, with its long-standing ties to international diplomacy and institutions, retained control of the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank. Hamas, cast out but not broken, dug into Gaza, and for many Palestinians, continued to embody justice and resistance.
Had the international community responded differently, recognising the legitimacy of Hamas's electoral win and engaging politically instead of isolating Gaza, the present conflict might have followed another path. But the years since have brought repeated cycles of siege and devastating violence. Each time, international actors called for restraint, Gaza was bombed back into deeper despair.
What makes this moment different is not just how vast the destruction is, but how deeply and clearly disillusioned the world has become. The idea that Israel's actions can be reduced to tactical containment – 'mowing the grass' – no longer holds. The destruction of civilian infrastructure and thousands of deaths are increasingly seen not as unfortunate side effects but as deliberate elements of a military strategy aimed at remaking Gaza by erasing Palestinian identity through force.
And now, even Israel's closest allies are asking whether such a strategy is justifiable. They are also beginning to acknowledge what has long been denied: That any future political settlement will have to reckon with Hamas, not simply as a military problem to be eliminated, but as a political force rooted in the lived reality of Palestinians.
The West's alliance with Israel is not broken, but it is strained. And as Western leaders take hesitant steps toward accountability and recognition of Palestinian rights, they face a critical choice. Will they continue to shield Israel as it doubles down on a war with no clear end? Or will they finally recognise that peace cannot be built on rubble, and that political engagement, not just military dominance, is the only path forward?
The writer is Professor at the Centre for West Asian Studies, Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi