Ceasefire in Gaza – Dum spiro, spero

"One more such victory, and we are undone," said Pyrrhus, the king of Epirus, after decimating his opponent in a battle that proved devastating for his own forces.

The most straightforward costs of the war in Gaza for Israel amount to 250 billion shekels (over $67 billion). On the other side, Gaza’s infrastructure losses exceed $18.5 billion. Human losses, although quantifiable, remain immeasurable. These include the deaths of over 1,700 Israelis—both civilians murdered by Hamas and soldiers killed in combat. Hamas terrorists’ unprecedented cruelty met an equally dreadful retaliation, resulting in the deaths of over 46,000 Palestinians, including nearly 17,500 children. This equates to over 100 casualties per day—more than the civilian death toll of Russia’s three-year war against Ukraine. It also represents the tragedy of 1.9 million Gaza residents—nearly 85% of its population—who overnight became refugees. Yet the hardest losses to grasp are the psychological devastation and squandered opportunities on both sides.

The news of a successful conclusion to negotiations between Israel and Hamas brought relief to many, although nothing is definitively settled. The talks were difficult, particularly regarding the most sensitive and immeasurable issue: the release of 98 hostages or their remains, as it is believed a third of them are deceased. In exchange, Israel agreed to free Palestinian prisoners. The ratio of the exchange was the most contentious point, though the agreement builds on a proposal brokered by the U.S. in late May 2024. Had the parties avoided their intransigence then, nearly 10,000 Palestinian lives and eight months of suffering for hostages could have been spared.

This reflection becomes all the more bitter when we realize that the formal ceasefire agreement of January 15, 2025, is essentially an annex of "guidelines for practical implementation" of the proposal from May 27, 2024—a detail repeatedly mentioned in the document. This means that the 15-month ordeal endured by Gaza’s population, Israeli hostages, and their families is to be curtailed by implementing an annex to a nearly dormant agreement.

The agreement outlines a three-phase implementation of mutual commitments over 42-day intervals. In the first phase, beginning January 19, 33 hostages are to be released. In the second—starting March 2, barring any obstacles—the remaining survivors are to be freed. In the third phase, beginning as early as mid-April, the remains of those who did not survive are to be returned. Simultaneously, the Israeli army will partially withdraw from two corridors it controls—Netzarim and Philadelphi—allowing nearly one million people, crowded into makeshift tents in a nominal "humanitarian zone" along Gaza’s central coastline, to move freely starting January 25. From February 9, this will extend along Salaheddine Road. Full withdrawal from these corridors is scheduled for the second phase. A complete Israeli military withdrawal from Gaza is expected, at best, by mid-April, allowing for an actual cessation of hostilities.

The road to such a "permanent ceasefire" remains long and fraught with obstacles, surmountable only through the determination of the three mediators: the United States, Egypt, and Qatar. For now, these parties have stated in a joint communiqué their resolve to "ensure full implementation of the three phases by both sides." However, this falls short of a robust guarantee, particularly since there has been no mention of repercussions for potential breaches of the agreement. Adding to the uncertainty is the stance of Israel’s prime minister, who has declared that Israel reserves the right to continue military operations regardless of the agreement. This is compounded by the unpredictability of one of the ceasefire’s guarantors, the United States, under President Donald Trump, who promised "hell" if all Israeli hostages were not freed before his return to the White House. Trump has returned, a few hostages have been released, and hell—for many of them and for Gaza’s suffering population—continues, albeit not in the way the newly re-elected U.S. president likely intended.

Still, one is inclined to say: Dum spiro, spero—"While I breathe, I hope."

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? Juliusz Goj?o for Res Humana

27.01.2025

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The original text in Polish was first published in the Res Humana bimonthly.