Fewer than two weeks after the ceasefire in Gaza was announced with cautious optimism, Israel reports that Hamas operatives have killed two of its soldiers in Rafah. In response, the Israel Defense Forces have resumed air and artillery strikes across Gaza, reportedly killing at least 18 Palestinians so far and halting the flow of humanitarian aid “until further notice.” The fragile truce, hailed by some as a breakthrough, now lies in ruins — another agreement shredded by reality before the ink had even dried.
Why anyone expected this ceasefire to hold is beyond comprehension. We can’t simply enter a war zone, broker a deal, and exit under twelve hours later, leaving behind the illusion of peace and the inevitability of renewed violence. History should have been warning enough. Every ceasefire between Israel and Hamas over the past decade has been built on wishful thinking rather than enforceable terms. Yet again, hope trumped reason, and civilians are paying the price.
The problem isn’t only that both sides mistrust one another — it’s that there was no credible mechanism to enforce the truce or to deter violations. Hamas never agreed to verifiable disarmament. Israel retained full operational control over Gaza’s borders and airspace. The Rafah crossing, lifeline for humanitarian aid, remained effectively sealed. And the oft-mentioned “200 U.S. troops” supposedly sent to oversee compliance appear to have been more rumor than reality. Some reports described them as “expected to deploy,” others as already “in place,” but there has been no confirmation they were on the ground when this latest incident occurred. If the presence of international monitors was meant to deter either side, their absence rendered the deal little more than paper.
Now Israel’s response has reset the clock to zero. Buildings in southern Gaza are in flames again. Aid convoys have stopped. Fuel and food deliveries have been suspended. The already staggering number of displaced families is rising. The resumption of shelling may feel like justice to some Israelis and deterrence to others, but it also erases any faint progress that might have been made toward rebuilding trust or infrastructure. Within hours, the ceasefire’s collapse turned what was being called “a fragile calm” into yet another humanitarian crisis.
No one can deny Israel’s right to defend itself. The killing of two soldiers was a deliberate provocation and a tragedy. But the response could have been measured — conditional rather than immediate. A statement such as, “If Hamas does not lay down its arms within twenty-four hours, operations will resume,” would have made clear that peace had one final chance. Instead, both sides defaulted to the old reflex: strike first, justify later. In that reflex lies the futility of all short-term truces.
It’s also worth questioning the role of the mediators — chiefly the United States, which helped engineer this ceasefire but seems to have done little to ensure its survival. Washington’s pattern is painfully familiar: a burst of diplomatic choreography followed by disengagement. If the U.S. intends to broker stability, it must be prepared to enforce it — not with more weapons, but with sustained presence and political pressure on both sides.
So here we are again: the pattern repeats with metronomic cruelty. Each new truce begins with lofty words and ends in sirens. Perhaps the world will learn someday that true peace requires something more than signatures and photo-ops. It requires verification, accountability, and time — the very things that no one seems willing to provide.
Until then, we’re left with the ashes of another failed promise. The ceasefire didn’t collapse; it simply revealed what it always was — a pause between storms.