One eye is closed, the other open. One hand grips the wall that has fallen on her. She is trapped in the ruins, her head and body held tightly. She has been like that all night. A light bulb is thrown next to her, and she tries to grab it; maybe it will save her. She loses her grip on it.
Then she raises her hand, in a sign that she is alive. She fights to say her words, "Save me, I'm tired. I cannot [go on]." With her last strength, she says, "Please, please, save me." These are her last words. "Speak, Hala, speak," her brother-in-law, Anas, tries to coax her, but in vain. Her eyes close.
It's not clear how long she lived after that picture. On Tuesday, Nir Hasson wrote on X, "This woman is called Hala Arafat. She is 35. Since 2 A.M., she and 14 other members of her family, mostly children, have been beneath the rubble of their Zarqa Street house in the Al-Tuffah neighborhood. I spoke with her brother-in-law, who said that anyone who tried to approach her was attacked by drones. If anyone has an idea how to help, this is the time."
The IDF Spokesperson's Office didn't bother to respond to Hasson for 12 hours. What's the hurry? Later, the spokesperson mumbled something about "lack of coordinates."
Hala died in unimaginable agony with her husband and four children. Fourteen members of their family, seven of them children, were killed in the bombing of their home.
They're not the only family that was slaughtered on Tuesday. The Azzam family – Amir, Rateb, Karim and four babies – was also destroyed. The images of the four infants' deaths, lying on their backs in white shrouds with their faces exposed, are among the most difficult. One of the infant's faces is lacerated.
There are social media accounts that have become slaughterhouse diaries. Every Israeli must now look straight at them. Let feelings be hurt, let soft and sensitive souls be shocked; no image from the Gaza Strip should be censored. This is no snuff film; it's the reality that must be seen.
Hala's last words and the helplessness to save her are unforgiving. A woman trapped in the rubble of her home should rouse a strong wish to save her. But the situation prompted the IDF's launch of killer UAVs to liquidate the rescuers, as happened Wednesday on Zarqa Street in Gaza City.
According to reports, the IDF shot anyone who approached. Daring women soldiers were at the joystick, or were they soldiers playing their game of death against anyone who tried to attempt a rescue?
A child carries a food package in the Gaza Strip last month.Credit: AFP/EYAD BABA
These are the same IDF soldiers whom Israel continues to embrace as if they are victims of this war and its heroes. They are neither victims nor heroes when they shoot with UAVs at the helpless. They are like the shooters at the humanitarian aid hubs. Twenty people were crushed to death on Wednesday, after soldiers sprayed them with gas.
This is the same IDF that, in 1999, rescued a Turkish girl, Shiran Franco, from the rubble. She was nine years old when the earthquake hit her country, and IDF soldiers not only rescued her but also brought her to Israel for treatment. Her picture, taken by an Israeli colonel, became iconic. How nice we were.
The IDF no longer rescues anyone. Now it shoots anyone who tries to rescue a woman trapped between the walls of her home. Is there anything more monstrous than that?
Again, words fail. In the next earthquake – in Turkey or any other country in the world – one should hope that the IDF rescue units that dare show their faces in a feigned effort to look good and save people will be expelled in disgrace.
This army has lost its right to be hypocritical. An army that shoots rescuers and the starving has lost its moral right to offer help.
No thanks, the world will say. We won't accept help from your hands drenched in the blood of the helpless.