By the Disassociated Press, July 25, 2025

In a stunning display of moral indigestion, U.S. officials abruptly pulled out of Gaza ceasefire negotiations this week, leaving a smoldering crater where diplomacy briefly flickered. The official justification—delivered with the slick, slippery conviction of someone who’s never missed a catered lunch—was that “Hamas doesn’t want peace,” a phrase that has become a kind of bureaucratic yoga mantra: empty, flexible, and convenient for ignoring the sounds of dying children.

Steve Witkoff, freshly installed as America’s envoy to “Middle East Solutions,” oinked that “talks can’t continue when one party insists on continuing terror.” This from a man whose previous diplomatic experience consists primarily of luxury real estate speculation and photos with whatever warmongering heads of state were free that weekend. Witkoff then promptly boarded a U.S. military-chartered jet and was last seen sipping mineral water somewhere with an indoor waterfall.

Meanwhile, Israel’s rotating cast of generals, spokespeople, and ministers screeched accusations of weakness and betrayal at the very suggestion that starvation might be bad optics. The Israeli cabinet, a rotating menagerie of uniformed hawks and ultra-nationalist demagogues, grumbled through a late-night vote rejecting any form of de-escalation, citing “security concerns” and “divine destiny,” a phrase which, like “eminent domain,” tends to mean “we’d like to take your land now.”

On the ground in Gaza, where the average caloric intake now falls somewhere between “medieval famine” and “Soviet prison,” people stand in aid lines that often end in gunfire. Children are dying in increasing numbers not just from bombs, but from malnutrition, dehydration, and despair. When they approach food distribution points, many are met with warning shots and rubber bullets, sometimes live rounds. But according to the Pentagon, this is simply the “tragic cost of asymmetric warfare,” a phrase that means precisely nothing to a mother holding her starved toddler in her arms.

The Gaza Humanitarian Foundation—a name that would be funny if it weren’t written in blood—is allegedly the centerpiece of American efforts to “assist” the region. But according to survivors and former aid workers, the foundation’s operations have become indistinguishable from militarized crowd control. Aid deliveries are tightly regulated, sporadic, and often used as bait. Eyewitnesses report gunfire at food queues. Drones hover over bread lines. At times, it feels less like relief and more like a hunger experiment run by sadists in suits.

Back in Washington, politicians have seized the moment with their usual grace and intellect. Senator Luther Gropp, chair of the Bipartisan Committee on Human Rights Abroad (and part-time shareholder in three defense contractors), shat out a press release praising Israel’s “unflinching moral clarity” while blaming Palestinian children for “getting in the way of national security.”

The White House followed suit with a sternly worded statement about America’s “unwavering support for its democratic allies,” a euphemism used interchangeably for Israel, Saudi Arabia, and whoever buys the most Lockheed Martin hardware this quarter. President Fennel, speaking from a climate-controlled podium flanked by flags and men with earpieces, howled that the U.S. “will never reward terror with negotiations.” He then pivoted seamlessly to fundraising emails and a ceremonial photo op with a seven-foot-tall bald eagle mascot named Liberty Joe.

None of these leaders has visited Gaza. None of them will. They govern from far away—geographically, morally, and spiritually. Their words float through air-conditioned corridors, untouched by dust, by blood, by the acrid scent of scorched cement and rotting grain.

Meanwhile, in Gaza, a fisherman named Marwan, whose boat was shelled last year, stood in line for flour for five hours before walking home empty-handed. When asked how he maintains hope, he spoke with quiet clarity: “The sea is still there. The wind still blows. We survive because we must.” Nearby, a teenage girl named Layla distributes smuggled medicine to elders, risking her life each time she crosses a checkpoint. She does not speak of politics. She speaks of her grandmother’s smile, her brother’s cough, and the silence that follows drones.

In these actions—the quiet, brave defiance of ordinary people—there lies more dignity than in a thousand summits, more wisdom than in the thickest think tank white paper. It is they who embody what the powerful only pretend to grasp: that life is not a chessboard for empire. It is breath and bread, shelter and song, community and care.

At the United Nations this week, another peace conference was announced. This one will, we are told, be “comprehensive.” It will “include stakeholders.” It will “create a path forward.” Words like scaffolding for a house that will never be built. Missing from the invitation list? Anyone who actually lives in Gaza. Anyone who has bled, or mourned, or buried a child in the dust. The table is set with silver and steak knives. The guests arrive by motorcade.

This is the theater of global order: lavish, delusional, and deadly.

But something deeper is stirring beneath the rubble. Not resistance in the usual sense, but a refusal—a quiet, powerful rejection of this entire system of suffering. It is not ideology. It is not nationalism. It is human. It is sacred. And it demands that we no longer ask how to fix this decaying world, but how to live as though no such world ever had the right to exist.

The time has come not for better policies, but for no policies; not for improved leaders, but for no more leaders. For an end to the spectacle. For the radical audacity of seeing clearly, walking simply, and refusing to cooperate with the machinery of death. We are not here to choose between bombs and starvation. We are here to remember that the earth belongs to no one and everyone, and that the only revolution worthy of the name begins in stillness.

Because where empire ends, something else begins—something that cannot be televised or monetized. Something as old as the stars, and as patient as the people who still look up at them.

---

Sources

1. Washington Post – “U.S., Israel pull out of Gaza ceasefire negotiations”
2. The Guardian – “Mass starvation spreading across Gaza, aid agencies warn”
3. The Guardian – “Israeli leaders condemn Macron for recognizing Palestine”
4. Time Magazine – “Children in Gaza are dying from hunger, not just bombs”
5. Cadenaser – “Más de medio millón de gazatíes al borde de la inanición”
6. Wikipedia – “2025 Gaza Strip aid distribution killings,” “2025 New York Peace Conference on Gaza”