Condemned to continue fleeing in Gaza: ‘Israel wants us to run until we have no will left, so that we’ll give up and leave’

The tractor pulling the trailer carrying Abu Mohammed Salout’s family and their belongings stops. It has run out of fuel. They were trying to flee Khan Younis, a town in southern Gaza, after the Israeli army demanded the evacuation of residents on Tuesday, designating the area as a “dangerous combat zone.” Desperate, Salout, a 62-year-old mechanic, calls fuel sellers on the black market, hoping to get at least three liters of diesel, enough to reach the western part of the city with his children, grandchildren, and their few remaining belongings. But fuel is nowhere to be found. Until recently, the Bani Suhaila roundabout, where the tractor stopped, was packed with fuel sellers. Now, traders are stockpiling supplies, hoping prices will skyrocket as the war intensifies.

In the midst of Ramadan, the Muslim holy month of fasting, and approaching the Eid al-Fitr holiday, which marks the end of this pillar of Islam, many Gazans were trying to regain a sense of normalcy. “But just as we were beginning to settle in, Israel forced us to flee again,” Salout says. “This is the eighth time we’ve been displaced since the war began.”

This journey is just one in a series of forced displacements that began in December 2023. Salout has spent weeks shifting between shelters, sometimes near the cemetery in western Khan Younis, sometimes in the east, where his married children sought refuge. When the temporary ceasefire between Hamas and Israel came into effect two months ago, this family dared to return home. But now, after the wave of Israeli attacks that ended the truce on Tuesday, with more than 400 deaths in the Strip in a single day, the cycle of displacement for Salout and his family has resumed.

Evacuations

On Tuesday, the Israeli army issued new evacuation orders for the towns of Khuza’a, Abasan al-Kabira, and Abasan al-Jadida in the south, as well as Beit Hanoun in the north. According to the UN humanitarian agency OCHA, 19 neighborhoods were directly affected by the evacuation orders, 13 of which are in northern Gaza and six in eastern Khan Younis. Fearing an unexpected bombardment or ground incursion, Salout rushed to get his family to safety once again.

When shells rain down on people, displacement is the only possible way for civilians to escape. A brutal routine for the inhabitants of Gaza, logistically and financially exhausting, and psychologically devastating. “War isn't just about bombs,” Salout tells EL PAÍS. “Displacement is another kind of death. If they want to finish us off, let them drop a nuclear bomb so we can end this misery. Or leave us alone. But they won't.”

Fleeing isn’t easy. Even for those lucky enough to find transportation, the price is steep: $250 for a short trip within the city. Many families choose to move only a few miles, hoping to avoid having to start from scratch.

Abu Omar Mohieddin, a father of six, fled Rafah in southern Gaza to a nearby area in Khan Younis, transporting everything he could fit into a tuk tuk. He also traveled with a disabled relative, who remains wheelchair-bound. He did not live in an area affected by Israeli evacuation orders, but feared that waiting too long would mean being trapped under the bombardment. “The last night in Rafah was hell,” he says. “The flames lit up the darkness, and explosions came from all directions. We thought we would be next.”

For him, the agony of displacement is preferable to waiting for death. “We don’t want this war. We just want it to stop, no matter the cost,” Mohieddin continues. “Israel kills civilians without hesitation.”

At the Al Barsh school, a UN-run shelter now overcrowded with displaced families, elderly couple Mohammed Asfour, 83, and his wife, Thuraya, 80, sit on an iron railing. They are exhausted. Asfour is blind and relies on his children for travel. His wife can barely walk. Their daughter, Halima, tries to reassure them, but fear is evident on their faces. “Our neighborhood was attacked even during the 42-day ceasefire, but the last two nights were unbearable,” Halima says. “We had no choice but to flee.”

She and her family had returned to their ruined homes three months earlier, pitching tents among the rubble. Now, they’re on the move again. “Israel wants us to run until we have no will left, so that we’ll give up and leave Gaza forever,” Halima concludes.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu declared on Tuesday that all future negotiations regarding the Israeli hostages not yet released by Hamas — the reason he uses to justify the current offensive — will be conducted “under fire.” He blamed Hamas for rejecting ceasefire proposals and vowed to intensify military operations. Hamas, in turn, accused Israel of trying to dictate terms through violence.

According to analyst Thaer Abu Atiwa, with the escalating conflict and its toll on civilian lives, Israel is trying to pressure Hamas into accepting its conditions for a prisoner exchange. “Netanyahu is also using the war to strengthen his political position, appeasing far-right ministers Bezalel Smotrich and Itamar Ben-Gvir to keep his fragile coalition intact,” he explains.

Abu Atiwa doubts that Israel will launch an immediate ground invasion, but warns that a prolonged war could make it inevitable. “If negotiations fail completely, a full-scale invasion could follow,” the expert continues. “If that happens, it will be the most devastating war Gaza has ever seen.”

Although the truce allowed the entry of food into the Strip after more than seven months of the closure of the Rafah border crossing, through which most goods enter, human rights groups and Hamas have claimed that Israel was maintaining the blockade of vital basic goods. Abu Atiwa also fears that the repeated mass displacements are part of a deliberate strategy. “The goal is to make life miserable, to push people into voluntary or forced migration,” he says. “As long as this cycle continues, the pressure to leave Gaza will only increase.”

The people of Gaza have few options: continue moving in search of new shelters, rebuild their homes, or face the bombs wherever they are. “This is not living. This is not life. This constant state of displacement is death itself,” Salout concludes despairingly.

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