Two weeks have passed since world leaders gathered in Sharm el-Sheikh and once again declared that a path to peace in the Middle East had been found. As with previous similar declarations, the Palestinians, who must live in peace, were left behind.
Today, Israel holds the fragile cease-fire hostage and the world is busy searching for the remaining bodies of the dead prisoners. There is no mention of the right of Palestinians to search for, commemorate and publicly mourn their dead.
The idea of reconstruction dangles before Gaza residents. Those calling from overseas seem to be thinking only of removing rubble, pouring concrete and repairing infrastructure. There is no talk of rebuilding people, of restoring institutions, dignity, and a sense of belonging.
But this is exactly what the Palestinians need. True recovery must focus on the people of Gaza, and it must start with the repair of classrooms and learning, not with cement. It must start with the young people who have survived unimaginable circumstances and still hold on to their dreams. Without them, no reconstruction effort can be sustained without Palestinian educators and students at its core.
Reconstruction without exclusion
Currently circulating plans for the governance and reconstruction of Gaza do not include the Palestinians most affected by the genocide. Many aspects of these plans are designed to control rather than empower, by installing new oversight rather than developing local leadership. They prioritize Israel’s security over Palestinian welfare and self-determination.
We have seen in the Palestinian context how such exclusion leads to dependency, dissatisfaction and despair. As academics who have worked with Palestinian academics and students for many years, we have also seen that education plays a central role in Palestinian society.
That’s why we believe that recovery must start with education, including higher education. And that process must include and be led by Palestinians themselves. Palestinian educators, scholars, and students have already proven that they have the strength to endure and rebuild.
For example, Gaza’s universities have been a model of resilience. Despite the total destruction of campuses, professors and scholars continued teaching and research in makeshift shelters, tents, and public squares, maintaining international partnerships, and giving purpose to the most important segment of society: young people.
In Gaza, universities are more than just places of study. They are sanctuaries of thought, compassion, solidarity, continuity, and fragile infrastructures of imagination.
Without them, who will train the doctors, nurses, teachers, architects, lawyers and engineers that Gaza needs? Who provides the safe spaces for dialogue, reflection, and decision-making that are the foundation of a functioning society?
We know that there can be no viable future for Palestinians without strong educational and cultural institutions that rebuild confidence, restore dignity, and sustain hope.
Solidarity, not paternalism
Something amazing has happened over the past two years. From the United States to South Africa, Europe to Latin America, university campuses around the world are sites of moral awakening. Students and professors have united against the massacre in Gaza, demanding an end to the war and calling for justice and accountability. Their sit-ins, vigils, and encampments reminded us that universities are not just places of learning, but crucibles of conscience.
This global uprising in education was more than just symbolic. It was a reaffirmation of what science is. When students risk disciplinary action to protect their lives and dignity, we are reminded that knowledge divorced from humanity is meaningless.
The solidarity they have shown should set the tone for how higher education institutions engage with and rebuild Gaza’s universities.
Universities around the world must listen, collaborate and commit over the long term. They can build partnerships with institutions in Gaza, share expertise, support research, and help rebuild society’s intellectual infrastructure. Fellowships, collaborative projects, distance learning, and open digital resources are small steps that can make a big difference.
Initiatives such as the Friends of Palestinian Universities (officially Fobzu), the University of Glasgow and HBKU summit, and the Qatar Foundation’s Education Above All have already shown what sustained collaboration can achieve. Now, that spirit of solidarity must be expanded, guided by Palestinian leaders, based on respect and dignity.
The world’s academic community has a moral obligation to stand by Gaza, but solidarity must not descend into paternalism. Recovery should not be an act of charity. It should be an act of justice.
The Palestinian higher education sector does not need Western blueprints or consultant templates. We need a partnership that listens, responds, and builds capacity on Palestinian terms. A long-term relationship of trust is required.
Research that saves lives
Reconstruction is by no means only technical. It’s moral. A new political ecology must grow from within Gaza itself, shaped by experience rather than imported models. Slow education over generations is the only way out of the never-ending cycle of destruction.
The challenges ahead will require scientific, medical, and legal ingenuity. For example, asbestos from destroyed buildings now pollutes Gaza’s air and threatens to spread lung cancer. This risk alone requires urgent research collaboration and knowledge sharing. You need time to think and consider the lifeblood of regular academic activities: conferences, conferences, scholarship exchanges, etc.
Additionally, confusion over property ownership and inheritance is occurring in areas bulldozed by genocidal forces. Lawyers and social scientists will be needed to address this crisis, recover ownership, resolve disputes, and destroy documents for future justice.
There are also countless war crimes committed against the Palestinian people. Forensic archaeologists, linguists, psychologists, and journalists help people process their grief, preserve their memories, and articulate their loss in their own words.
Every sector has a role to play. Education brings them together, turning knowledge into survival and survival into hope.
preservation of memory
As Gaza tries to recover from the genocide, it also needs space to mourn and preserve memory, because peace without truth is amnesia. Without grief there can be no rebirth, and without loss of name there can be no reconciliation.
Every abandoned house, every missing family member should be documented, recognized and remembered as part of Gaza’s history, not erased in the name of expediency. Through this difficult process, new methodologies of care will inevitably emerge. The act of remembering is the basis of justice.
Here, too, education can help by giving shape to grief and turning it into a breeding ground for resilience, through literature, art, history, and faith. Here in Gaza’s fragile and desolate landscape, in the more-than-human world, education can heal us, and only then, in the words of Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darweesh, can we once again have access to “all that makes life worth living.”
Naturally, rebuilding Gaza will require cranes and engineers. But more than that, we need teachers, students, and scholars who know how to learn and practice well. Peace efforts start with curiosity, compassion, and courage, not with cement mixers.
Gaza’s universities continue to survive, even amidst rubble and Ashura, strewn with the body parts of staff and students lost to the violence. They are the keepers of its memory and the creators of its future. This is proof that learning itself is an act of resistance and that education is and must be the first step towards sustainable peace.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial stance of Al Jazeera.
