In Gaza, Israel鈥檚 creeping Yellow Line takes Palestinians鈥� land, and lives
| Gaza City, Gaza Strip; and Amman, Jordan
For Palestinian residents of Gaza, a string of concrete yellow boxes now demarcates where Israeli-occupied land begins 鈥� a barely visible border that, for Palestinians who cross it, marks the line between life and death.
It also marks a shrinking amount of space in which displaced Gazans can live.
The blocks 鈥� some with yellow poles 鈥� mark the so-called Yellow Line, which residents say is steadily being moved further west and south by Israeli forces.
Why We Wrote This
The yellow cement blocks demarcating Israeli-held territory in Gaza were supposed to mark a temporary armistice line. But with the ceasefire process stalled, the blocks keep moving deeper into Gaza, making Palestinians feel more closed in, and trapped.
A temporary makeshift armistice line, the Yellow Line was to disappear and Israeli forces were to withdraw from Gaza as the Trump peace plan progressed. Yet the peace plan is struggling.
As part of the initial phase of the Hamas-Israel ceasefire, brokered by Qatar, Egypt, Turkey, and the United States, the Israeli army withdrew in October from deep within the Gaza Strip, back to a perimeter well within the territory, carving out a temporary buffer zone within only about 50% of the enclave.
Yet Hamas refuses to disarm, an international stabilization force has not materialized, and Israel refuses to leave.
Temporary line or permanent border?
And this temporary zone, Gazans fear, might be becoming permanent.
鈥淭hey put down the line, and every period they push it further,鈥� says Mohammed Abu Sahweel, a lawyer whose home in Beit Hanoun in northern Gaza now lies under Israeli military control and out of reach.
鈥淭hey are squeezing us,鈥� says Mr. Abu Sahweel, who lives in a displacement camp in central Gaza.
It is not only the geography that shrinks, displaced Gazans say, but choices: fewer safe roads, fewer possible livelihoods, fewer schools, less water, less certainty.
The Yellow Line prevents tens of thousands of Gazans from returning to their homes in Rafah and eastern Khan Yunis Governorate in the south; and in eastern Gaza City and the towns of Beit Lahia and Beit Hanoun in the north.
Israel says its ongoing occupation up to the line is part of its dismantling of Hamas鈥� infrastructure.
While visiting Israel-held territory last week, the Israel Defense Forces chief of staff, Lt. Gen. Eyal Zamir, said the Israeli military was 鈥渙verseeing the crossings to the Gaza Strip, and is precisely dismantling terror infrastructure鈥� 鈥� particularly Hamas-dug tunnels.
Yet General Zamir has also described the zone as a 鈥渘ew border line, a forward defensive line for the [Israeli] communities, and an offensive line.鈥�
Israel says it has destroyed several tunnels using Israeli forces and Israel-backed Gazan militias, and has confiscated weapons stockpiles and equipment. Its operations have erased entire neighborhoods, satellite imagery reveals.
The Israeli army is also killing Palestinians attempting to cross the line on a near-daily basis, alleging the individuals are Hamas operatives. Palestinian sources and eyewitnesses say the vast majority are civilians, including many children, trying to return to their damaged homes to retrieve items or collect firewood.
Meanwhile, the moving Yellow Line has created a new division between haves and have-nots in Gaza; those from communities on the Israeli side are twice as vulnerable and doubly dispossessed, not knowing whether they can ever return.
Home beyond reach
Hiba Abu Ajwa, a mother of five from eastern Shujayya, says her family鈥檚 life has not changed since the Trump peace plan.
鈥淓verything is the same. We鈥檙e still displaced. We are still living under hard conditions,鈥� says Ms. Abu Ajwa from her tent in Gaza City, while asking her son to fan a cooking fire fed by large melting plastic sheets.
鈥淚 had hoped to return back to my home, even if it鈥檚 destroyed, to my land. But I am afraid I am losing it forever,鈥� she says.
During a previous Israel-Hamas ceasefire, between January and March last year, Ms. Abu Ajwa managed to return to her home in Shujayya and erected a tent over the rubble 鈥� before a resumption in fighting pushed them out.
Now, her family home is unreachable. For her, the Israeli-maintained boundary is reinforcing fear and the displacement of war; what exists today in Gaza is not a ceasefire.
鈥淵ou feel as if you do not understand if this is a peace or war. It is not ending. Life is expensive, and the airstrikes are continuing,鈥� she says.
When the ceasefire was announced in October, 鈥渨e did not return to our places. We did not return to peace. We are still displaced,鈥� she says. 鈥淲e want to look to our children鈥檚 future, but the drones have not left the sky,鈥� she says, pointing to Israeli military drones buzzing overhead.
And yet, despite the risk of death, many attempt to return.
鈥淭hey go there because that is their homeland. Our souls are there next to our homes and lands,鈥� Ms. Abu Ajwa says of friends and neighbors who made the risky journey.
Her eldest son, Yousuf, tried to return to Shujayya, she says. When he reached Salahaddin Road, a main artery in central Gaza west of the Yellow Line, Israeli quadcopters started to fire. He returned to their tent, unable to make the journey.
鈥淗e longed for the area. He wanted to bring some stuff for us,鈥� says Ms. Abu Ajwa, who works as a baker for residents in her displacement camp.
Risking lives
Gazans are aware of the risks. 鈥淲hoever goes doesn鈥檛 come back safe from the shooting,鈥� she says. 鈥滿any took the risk, and they died. Why did they go? Because life in displacement drains meaning from us, from the inside.鈥�
The yellow blocks can appear overnight in a neighborhood.
Mr. Abu Sahweel, the Beit Hanoun lawyer, is one of thousands of Palestinians who have been forced to uproot, pack, and move since the ceasefire began, due to the encroaching Yellow Line.
At the beginning of the current ceasefire, his family erected tents in Jabalia.
鈥淭hen, we started to see the yellow blocks approaching us. Then, we moved a little bit to the south of Jabalia, and then to the middle of Gaza, as we were afraid of being hit鈥� by Israeli fire, he says.
But, he points out, Israeli strikes continue west of the Yellow Line.
鈥淚 am afraid that this is the new geography. They mean to destroy Gaza, to choke us. Gaza was already an overpopulated area. Now, it is more, as we are forced into smaller areas,鈥� he says.
鈥淲e鈥檙e afraid we鈥檒l end up refugees like 鈥�48 and 鈥�67 [the mass displacement of Palestinians following the 1948 and 1967 wars] 鈥� but we鈥檒l still keep trying to return to our land,鈥� says Mr. Abu Sahweel.
鈥淲hen will we go back?鈥�
Gazans tell The Monitor they are eager to see their homes, retrieve something from beneath the rubble, and walk their streets once more.
Ms. Abu Ajwa鈥檚 son scrolls through photos of Shujayya on his phone and asks, 鈥淲hen will we go back?鈥� He gets no answer.
When the line is pushed 鈥渁 hundred meters, 200 meters,鈥� it is not only land that disappears, but also the idea of returning home, says Ms. Abu Ajwa.
Fayez Hussein Awaja is separated from his farm close to the Gaza-Israeli border, where he had 60 acres of olive and citrus groves, land he has barely seen since the start of the Israel-Hamas war in October 2023.
鈥淚 used to farm near the border, and I see the tanks. There is still shelling,鈥� he says from his displacement tent in Gaza City.
鈥淪ome people go because they want to see their home 鈥� maybe fix something, or retrieve something,鈥� says Suad Awaja, Fayez鈥檚 wife. 鈥淣o one is allowed to go back to our area. No one goes.鈥�
