17/10/2025
๐ฃ๐ฒ๐๐๐ถ๐ป๐ด ๐๐ต๐ฒ ๐๐ผ๐๐ป๐ฑ
The tragedy in Gaza remains darkened, and even as a fragile ceasefire momentarily silences the bombs, grief lingers like smoke that refuses to lift. For the first time in months, some Palestinians are living without the sound of gunfireโyet the silence that follows is heavy, uneasy, and far from peace.
More than 67,000 Palestinians have been murdered since October 2023, close to 30% of whom were children. Over 170,000 have been wounded, and 90% of all houses have been destroyed, erasing entire communities and generations of memories. What began as a war over land has turned into a collapse of moral humanityโa crisis that reveals not only political failure but also the worldโs growing indifference to suffering.
๐๐ผ๐ป๐ด ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ผ๐๐ ๐ผ๐ณ ๐ญ๐ต๐ฐ๐ด
Since 1948, Palestine has borne the brunt of displacement and occupation. Each generation has inherited not liberty, but the remnants of broken promises. Political stalemates and suspicion have repeatedly shattered ceasefires, fueling a cycle of violence that deepens hopelessness every time.
And even now, under the so-called ceasefire, fear and hunger still linger in Gazaโs streets. The silence of bombs does not mean peaceโit only means survival.
๐ ๐ ๐ผ๐ฟ๐ฎ๐น ๐๐ต๐ฎ๐น๐น๐ฒ๐ป๐ด๐ฒ
What persists is not just a geopolitical conflict between nationsโit is a moral test for all who claim to be human. The war may be fought with weapons, but its deepest wounds are carried by people who only wanted to live, to study, and to dream.
Children who once drew stars now draw rubble. Students who once planned for college now count the dead. And the world, caught in politics and spectacle, risks forgetting that behind every statistic lies a story that bleeds.
Last October 7, IITians expressed their strongest solidarity with the Palestinians whose lives continue to be caught in the crossfireโespecially those whose hopes for education are being buried in debris. In testimonies shared by humanitarian organizations and media outlets such as Al Jazeera and the UN OCHA, teachers like Amal and mothers like Fatima speak of classrooms and homes reduced to ruins.
Reuters has documented how one educator continued teaching amidst the rubble after her home was bombedโa reminder that courage does not end when walls fall.
Their words carry the weight of shattered classrooms and empty homesโproof that war has nothing to do with victory or defense but with the destruction of innocence. These are not distant stories; they are universal pleas of humanity yearning to be heard.
๐ฆ๐ถ๐น๐ฒ๐ป๐ฐ๐ฒ ๐๐ ๐ก๐ผ๐ ๐ฃ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ
Even as temporary calm descends, the world must not mistake this pause as healing. The test of conscience begins not during war, but in what we choose to rebuild after it.
The Philippines, having endured its own history of oppression and colonization, knows this anguish by heart. We, too, have been silenced and dehumanized, striving to be heard and to be free. That shared history ties us to the struggle of Palestineโnot as distant onlookers, but as kindred souls who understand resistance.
To care for Palestine is to remember our own fight for dignity. Silence, in moments like these, is not neutrality; it is surrender.
๐๐ฒ๐๐ผ๐ป๐ฑ ๐ฃ๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ณ๐ผ๐ฟ๐บ๐ฎ๐๐ถ๐๐ฒ ๐ฆ๐ผ๐น๐ถ๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ถ๐๐
Yet, amid the global chorus of โsolidarity,โ a question lingers: Is our empathy real, or just rehearsed? It is easy to share posts, light candles, or sign statementsโbut harder to sustain moral outrage when the newsfeed moves on. Performative compassion soothes guilt but changes nothing.
Solidarity must not be a performance of care but a practice of conscience. To stand with Palestineโor with any people suffering injusticeโmeans refusing to look away even when the world grows tired of watching. It means interrogating our comfort, our silence, and our distance.
If our concern begins and ends with aestheticsโwith words, hashtags, or curated griefโthen we risk becoming part of the very apathy we condemn. Real solidarity is not sentimental; it is sustained, uncomfortable, and defiant.
๐๐๐บ๐ฎ๐ป๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐ฏ๐ผ๐๐ฒ ๐๐น๐น
Peace cannot take root without justice, and justice cannot be achieved without accountability. The call is not only for a ceasefire but also for sustained humanitarian access, the rebuilding of schools, and a global political will that does not waver with convenience.
Awareness among Filipinos must not fade with the headlines. We have the moral duty to educate, to speak, and to stand in solidarityโwhether through classroom discussions, community engagement, or acts of compassion. To understand Palestine is to confront our shared struggle against injustice and indifference. Apathy is not peace of mind; it is the abandonment of humanity.
Every family deserves a home where they are not afraid. Every child deserves a classroom where learning does not mean risking death. War should never be made normal, and human rights should never be negotiable. The future of this world depends on whether we choose empathy over apathyโnot as an audience to tragedy, but as witnesses who refuse to be silent.
For the Philippines, for Palestine, for every life in the crossfireโour position has to be one of unshakeable humanity. And if compassion is our benchmark, then there is only one justifiable conclusion: the war should end, and peace should startโnot as a slogan, but as a revolt of conscience.
Opinion by Newlyssa Hannah Baga-an
Graphics by Jay Quintila
