There Is No “After Gaza”
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Current Issue
The Weekend Read
/ January 31, 2026
There Is No “After Gaza”
Whether intentionally or with callous word choice, too many have begun relegating Palestine to the past tense.
Sarah Aziza
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Displaced Palestinians endure harsh winter conditions in makeshift tents after Israeli attacks destroyed their homes in Nuseirat, Gaza Strip on January 11, 2026.
(Hassan Jedi / Anadolu / Getty Images)
It was a strange sensation—those months when the world seemed to vibrate with the question of Palestine. As a diasporic daughter of refugees from ‘Ibdis and Deir al-Balah, Gaza, I was born into this question—the open wounds of the Nakba, the unfinished work of liberation and return. Yet, growing up in the diaspora, I’d learned the stubborn, structural hostility to our existence that is intrinsic to much of the Western world. Nowhere was this clearer than in the United States, where “Palestine” was mostly a lacuna, obliterated in silence or colonial narratives of our barbarity. Upon hearing I was Palestinian, most Americans stared at me blankly, or replied, “You’re from Pakistan?” Some responded with vehement denial— “Palestinians don’t exist!”—while a few looked at me with some combination of pity and fear.
And then, on October 7, 2023, Palestine invaded discourses and streets, surged into spaces that had, until then, fashioned themselves out of reach.
On that day, Palestinian militants broke out of Gaza and attacked nearby settlements and military bases, resulting in the death of roughly 373 Israeli security forces, 695 Israeli civilians, and 71 foreign nationals, including a number of people killed by Israel’s own Hannibal Directive. The attacks, and the capture of 251 hostages, represented an unprecedented rupture in Israel’s presumed impenetrability, and with it, a crisis for the Western imperial paradigm.
Within hours, this imperial machinery leapt into overdrive, scrambling to counter this rift with sheer, spectacular force. Pundits and politicians cranked existing Islamophobic, racist, and anti-Indigenous rhetoric full blast in a frenzy. Western heads of state attested to baseless tales of beheaded babies, joining Israeli officials who declared Gaza’s entire population of 2 million to be terrorists and animals. As calls for an unbridled, indiscriminate military assault on the Strip reached a fever pitch, Palestinian and other dissenting voices were viciously smothered by means ranging from cancellations and firings to blackmail and outright violence. Throughout, these actions moved with an orchestrated efficiency that suggested the anti-Palestinian maelstrom was less hysteria than the unmasking of deep, long-held desires.
From …
Who's accountable for the results?
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There Is No “After Gaza”
Magazine
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Search
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Magazine
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Politics
World
Economy
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Current Issue
The Weekend Read
/ January 31, 2026
There Is No “After Gaza”
Whether intentionally or with callous word choice, too many have begun relegating Palestine to the past tense.
Sarah Aziza
Share
Copy Link
X (Twitter)
Bluesky Pocket
Ad Policy
Displaced Palestinians endure harsh winter conditions in makeshift tents after Israeli attacks destroyed their homes in Nuseirat, Gaza Strip on January 11, 2026.
(Hassan Jedi / Anadolu / Getty Images)
It was a strange sensation—those months when the world seemed to vibrate with the question of Palestine. As a diasporic daughter of refugees from ‘Ibdis and Deir al-Balah, Gaza, I was born into this question—the open wounds of the Nakba, the unfinished work of liberation and return. Yet, growing up in the diaspora, I’d learned the stubborn, structural hostility to our existence that is intrinsic to much of the Western world. Nowhere was this clearer than in the United States, where “Palestine” was mostly a lacuna, obliterated in silence or colonial narratives of our barbarity. Upon hearing I was Palestinian, most Americans stared at me blankly, or replied, “You’re from Pakistan?” Some responded with vehement denial— “Palestinians don’t exist!”—while a few looked at me with some combination of pity and fear.
And then, on October 7, 2023, Palestine invaded discourses and streets, surged into spaces that had, until then, fashioned themselves out of reach.
On that day, Palestinian militants broke out of Gaza and attacked nearby settlements and military bases, resulting in the death of roughly 373 Israeli security forces, 695 Israeli civilians, and 71 foreign nationals, including a number of people killed by Israel’s own Hannibal Directive. The attacks, and the capture of 251 hostages, represented an unprecedented rupture in Israel’s presumed impenetrability, and with it, a crisis for the Western imperial paradigm.
Within hours, this imperial machinery leapt into overdrive, scrambling to counter this rift with sheer, spectacular force. Pundits and politicians cranked existing Islamophobic, racist, and anti-Indigenous rhetoric full blast in a frenzy. Western heads of state attested to baseless tales of beheaded babies, joining Israeli officials who declared Gaza’s entire population of 2 million to be terrorists and animals. As calls for an unbridled, indiscriminate military assault on the Strip reached a fever pitch, Palestinian and other dissenting voices were viciously smothered by means ranging from cancellations and firings to blackmail and outright violence. Throughout, these actions moved with an orchestrated efficiency that suggested the anti-Palestinian maelstrom was less hysteria than the unmasking of deep, long-held desires.
From …
There Is No “After Gaza”
Who's accountable for the results?
Log In
Email *
Password *
Remember Me
Forgot Your Password?
Log In
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There Is No “After Gaza”
Magazine
Newsletters
Subscribe
Log In
Search
Subscribe
Donate
Magazine
Latest
Archive
Podcasts
Newsletters
Sections
Politics
World
Economy
Culture
Books & the Arts
The Nation
About
Events
Contact Us
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Current Issue
The Weekend Read
/ January 31, 2026
There Is No “After Gaza”
Whether intentionally or with callous word choice, too many have begun relegating Palestine to the past tense.
Sarah Aziza
Share
Copy Link
Facebook
X (Twitter)
Bluesky Pocket
Email
Ad Policy
Displaced Palestinians endure harsh winter conditions in makeshift tents after Israeli attacks destroyed their homes in Nuseirat, Gaza Strip on January 11, 2026.
(Hassan Jedi / Anadolu / Getty Images)
It was a strange sensation—those months when the world seemed to vibrate with the question of Palestine. As a diasporic daughter of refugees from ‘Ibdis and Deir al-Balah, Gaza, I was born into this question—the open wounds of the Nakba, the unfinished work of liberation and return. Yet, growing up in the diaspora, I’d learned the stubborn, structural hostility to our existence that is intrinsic to much of the Western world. Nowhere was this clearer than in the United States, where “Palestine” was mostly a lacuna, obliterated in silence or colonial narratives of our barbarity. Upon hearing I was Palestinian, most Americans stared at me blankly, or replied, “You’re from Pakistan?” Some responded with vehement denial— “Palestinians don’t exist!”—while a few looked at me with some combination of pity and fear.
And then, on October 7, 2023, Palestine invaded discourses and streets, surged into spaces that had, until then, fashioned themselves out of reach.
On that day, Palestinian militants broke out of Gaza and attacked nearby settlements and military bases, resulting in the death of roughly 373 Israeli security forces, 695 Israeli civilians, and 71 foreign nationals, including a number of people killed by Israel’s own Hannibal Directive. The attacks, and the capture of 251 hostages, represented an unprecedented rupture in Israel’s presumed impenetrability, and with it, a crisis for the Western imperial paradigm.
Within hours, this imperial machinery leapt into overdrive, scrambling to counter this rift with sheer, spectacular force. Pundits and politicians cranked existing Islamophobic, racist, and anti-Indigenous rhetoric full blast in a frenzy. Western heads of state attested to baseless tales of beheaded babies, joining Israeli officials who declared Gaza’s entire population of 2 million to be terrorists and animals. As calls for an unbridled, indiscriminate military assault on the Strip reached a fever pitch, Palestinian and other dissenting voices were viciously smothered by means ranging from cancellations and firings to blackmail and outright violence. Throughout, these actions moved with an orchestrated efficiency that suggested the anti-Palestinian maelstrom was less hysteria than the unmasking of deep, long-held desires.
From …
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