| | | There is no justice, no decency in a world that saves donkeys from war but abandons their owners, that saves a dog from starvation and leaves people hungry. There is no morality in compassion that stops at the edge of human suffering | | |
| ![Nagham Zbeedat]() | | Nagham Zbeedat
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| | | | | | ![A young Palestinian washes his horse in the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Al-Zawida in central Gaza Strip on Tuesday.]() | | | Israel's public broadcaster published a story earlier this month claiming Israeli soldiers had "rescued" donkeys from Gaza and an animal sanctuary had flown them to France. The Israeli sanctuary behind the operation shared that they had been "rescued from abuse and hard labor." The rescuers wanted these donkeys to "discover the good side of humanity."
But that humanity did not include their owners, the people who kept them alive through siege and starvation, even when they themselves had nothing to eat.
What the news reports and glowing social media posts didn't say was that these donkeys weren't just animals, they were lifelines. In Gaza, where bombs have flattened roads and fuel is nearly nonexistent, donkeys are used to transport the injured, the dead and the living.
They are not symbols of pity, but rather part of the machinery of survival. Taking them away isn't mercy, it's theft. It's another act of erasure, a gesture that screams to Palestinians in Gaza: even your animals deserve more dignity than you.
This is not the first time Palestinians have recognized that the plight of their animals draws more attention from the world than their own. In 2024, Mohammed Ashour, a Palestinian man, posted about his dog, hoping it might draw attention to Gaza's misery.
It worked, but only for the dog. It was evacuated by an animal charity in Ireland. Given clean air, open space and safety, Ashour remained in a tent. "No one mentioned me," he wrote. "I, who was living in a tent unfit even for a dog.
This week, Gazan journalist Maha Hussaini posted on X a before-and-after photo of her cat Tom: once healthy, now emaciated. "If countless photos of skin-and-bone children haven't appealed to the world," she wrote, "maybe a before-and-after of animals will?"
On Wednesday, 10-year-old Layan posted to her large Instagram following that she was giving a skinny street cat her piece of bread, because "the whole world knows that Gaza is going through a severe famine. Unfortunately, no one is taking action. And since no one is moving for the sake of the children and people in Gaza, we need you to take action for the animals in Gaza."
The message to Palestinians is clear: in Gaza, your chances of survival increase if you have four legs instead of two. Earlier this week, a man in Gaza told me that "people here have stopped asking for human rights. Now they're asking for the rights of animals – to eat, drink and sleep in peace."
But while even donkeys are now promised freedom, a child in Gaza remains under bombardment, starved and surrounded by death.
This is not about opposing animal welfare. It is about confronting a world that grants animals stories of freedom and redemption, while letting human beings die in silence.
There is no justice, no decency, in a world that saves donkeys from war but abandons their owners, that saves dogs from starvation and leaves people hungry. There is no morality in compassion that stops at the edge of human suffering.
In Gaza, people are not looking for pity. They are asking to be seen as humans, as lives worth saving. And until that happens, don't call this compassion. Call it what it is: cruelty dressed as kindness. |
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