Nine months is the length of time it takes for life to begin. In Gaza, it has become the measure of time for life to end. Since October, more than 62,000 Palestinians have been killed. Nearly half of them were women and children.
Each day brings an average of 28 dead children, a figure that should shame the conscience of the world. Hospitals have been bombed, schools destroyed, families torn apart. What should have been months of life have become months of mourning.
Palestine’s struggle stretches back decades, but these last nine months have been unmatched in their scale of death and destruction.
The numbers are not abstract. They represent the deliberate destruction of a people. Unicef reports tens of thousands of children killed or injured. The N confirmed famine. Journalists and aid workers have been targeted. Entire neighborhoods have been flattened. Every lifeline, food, medicine and water, has been cut. What is happening is the predictable result of a world order that values some lives and devalues others.
The scale is almost unspeakable. In less than a year, Gaza has been turned into one of the most devastated places in modern history. More children have been killed there in nine months than in all global conflicts combined over the past four years. Whole families have been erased from civil records because no one survived to carry their names. The comparison to the worst tragedies of the last century is no longer exaggeration. The sheer speed and concentration of the killing, combined with starvation and displacement, has created a humanitarian horror without parallel in living memory.
The reaction of global powers has revealed this reality in its starkest form. Ukraine was met with sanctions and weapons. Gaza has been met with silence and vetoes. The principles of international law, so loudly invoked in Europe, collapse into whispers when it comes to Palestinians. The double standard is not hidden. It is practised openly, with the language of rights applied selectively depending on who is bleeding.
Nine months have shown the limits of outrage and the weakness of diplomacy. Ceasefire resolutions are watered down. Humanitarian convoys are blocked. Every meeting ends with carefully chosen phrases while more graves are dug. The pattern is clear. Without sustained pressure, Gaza will be left to starve, and the world will move on as though nothing happened.
For Pakistan, this cannot be treated as someone else’s crisis. Palestine has always been part of our political fabric. This is the time to show that commitment has not eroded. The test is not only what we say in statements but what we are willing to pursue in action.
There are clear steps. Pakistan must speak consistently, not occasionally. Every forum, every session, every corridor of diplomacy must hear us pressing for an immediate and permanent ceasefire. We must use our seat on the UN Human Rights Council to demand accountability and independent investigations into war crimes. We should work with our global partners and allied nations to table resolutions that carry moral weight even if they are vetoed by great powers. Silence, or even irregular advocacy, will be interpreted as retreat.
We must mobilise aid in sustained efforts. Food, medicine, and treatment for malnourished children cannot wait for political agreement. Pakistan can expand coordination with the Red Crescent, Unicef and UNRWA to ensure supplies reach Gaza despite the blockades. A visible and persistent humanitarian role would demonstrate leadership beyond words.
We must also resist normalisation that accepts occupation as permanent. Some powers are ready to accept that outcome under the guise of diplomacy. Pakistan cannot. Our foreign policy should be anchored in the principle that no settlement is legitimate until the Palestinian people have security, dignity and sovereignty. To accept less is to join the ranks of those who have looked away.
Beyond government action, Pakistan’s public voice matters. Our media, civil society and communities abroad can amplify what is at stake. This is about building moral pressure where political will is absent. The people of Gaza deserve more than sympathy. They deserve solidarity that translates into visible action. Even limited acts, such as funding medical relief, sponsoring children’s education and supporting displaced families, add weight to our national position.
The lesson of these nine months is that silence is not neutral. It is consent. Every day that passes without accountability strengthens impunity. Every cautious statement gives cover for the next strike. Every refusal to act teaches the powerful that Palestinian lives can be taken without consequence.
Nine months should not mean this. They should mean birth, not burial. They should mean the sound of children beginning their lives, not silence in the rubble. Gaza has measured these months in loss. The rest of us must decide whether they are remembered as the death of our collective conscience or the moment we finally understood that silence was no longer an option.
The writer is a non-resident fellow at the CISS. He posts/tweets @umarwrites
