Back to school or back to death? The missing rights of Palestinian children
September is a month of excitement in many parts of the world: children start new schools, open fresh notebooks, shoulder their school bags, and celebrate the joy of “back to school.” For all children, education is considered the cornerstone of their rights, and governments as well as international institutions repeat the slogan of “education for every child.” Yet, amid this universal rhetoric and the beginning of a new season, a completely different reality unfolds in Gaza.
For Palestinian children, September does not mean “back to school,” but cruelly, “back to death.” Their most fundamental right—the right to life—is taken from them every day under the shadow of bombs and conflict. According to UNICEF, more than 13,000 children in Gaza have been killed and over 25,000 injured since October 2023. Each day, an average of 28 children lose their lives—equivalent to an entire classroom being wiped out daily. For some, this right is denied even before they are born, stripped from them while still in the womb. At the same time, access to basic food is blocked, leaving children to die of hunger, with the number of those who perish from starvation increasing by the day. We witness Palestinian children photographed in tears at aid distribution lines, clutching empty containers.
For these children, the right to health is also trapped between blockades and closed borders. Hospitals are bombed, medicines are scarce, and most tragically, health workers themselves are killed. More than 80 per cent of health facilities in Gaza are either non-functional or severely damaged, leaving one million children without reliable access to medical care. Under such conditions, even mentioning the right to education becomes impossible. Schools have been reduced to rubble, playgrounds have turned into heaps of debris, and childhood takes place under the shadow of tanks. Nearly 88 per cent of Gaza’s schools have been damaged or destroyed, and at least 625,000 children have been deprived of formal education for months. UNICEF reports that over half a million children have now gone more than a year without access to classroom learning.
The right to protection is proclaimed for every child around the world, yet international institutions remain silent in the face of Gaza’s devastation. The same bodies that declare children’s rights to be universal fall silent when it comes to Palestinian children. This silence threatens not only Gaza, but the future of children everywhere. Because when rights are applied selectively, they are no longer “universal”, and they lose their credibility.
On 20 November 1989, the UN General Assembly adopted the Convention on the Rights of the Child, promising universal rights for all children: to life, to protection, to education, to health. On paper, every child is equal. But in Gaza, where dozens of children are killed or injured every single day, the claim of universality is reduced to an empty slogan.
When war broke out in Ukraine, the international community mobilized immediately. Funds were opened, schools were prepared for refugees, and the media kept the issue at the center of attention for weeks. In Palestine, however, the same childhood, the same rights, are ignored. This silence proves that children’s rights operate differently depending on geography.
It is not only states or international institutions that remain silent. Academia, too, shares in this double standard. While special issues, conference panels, and articles on the war in Ukraine were quickly produced, the losses of Palestinian children are too often overlooked. Even researchers working in the field of children’s rights hesitate to mention Palestine. This academic silence reproduces the limits of politics and further empties the claim of universality. Such silence in academia shows that “science” itself is trapped under the dominance of political agendas.
If Palestinian children are ignored, the very foundation of children’s rights—universality—crumbles, collapses, and becomes nothing more than hollow rhetoric. A right can only be called a right when it is applied equally to all children. When it is implemented selectively according to geography, politics, or strategic interests, it ceases to be a right and becomes a fragile privilege. This selectivity leaves not only Palestinian children but all children in the world without security. The collapse of universality means that in future conflicts or crises, children everywhere will be left without the international guarantees they depend on. Once trust begins to erode, there are no limits: the same institutions that remain silent in Palestine today may ignore the rights of other children tomorrow.
This is why the silence over Palestine is not just a regional issue—it is a global threat. As long as international institutions claiming to defend children’s rights remain silent, humanity’s shared values are eroded. As universality turns into selectivity, trust also erodes; treaties, declarations, and campaigns lose their credibility. This is not merely a political choice—it is a permanent wound in humanity’s conscience.
What must be done today is to break the silence, to raise our voices, and to fight so that rights can truly be universal. UNICEF itself has warned that over half a million people in Gaza are trapped in famine conditions, with children facing the highest risk of starvation. This struggle is not just a temporary campaign or a passing call for solidarity—it is the only way for humanity to secure its own future. For when the rights of Gaza’s children are quietly shelved, it means that tomorrow, in another part of the world, other children may share the same fate.
All this raises an uncomfortable question: Are children’s rights truly universal, or does a child’s place of birth determine their right to life, education and play? If rights are determined by geography, then they are no longer rights, but privileges.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.