From https://aoav.org.uk/2023/an-analysis-of-the-7th-of-october-2023-casualties-in-israel-as-a-result-of-the-hamas-attack
Yes, 66% is awfully high(, and focusing on attacking military bases would have been suicide, i've also heard about the Hannibal directive, and if i stopped speaking in relative numbers i also know that palestinians were/are clearly at a loss in absolute terms under the law of retaliation), but since that's the threshold given to distinguish between a terrorist and a military operation, then Israel is a terrorist nation by its own standards. Not that anyone cares about giving an official definition to distinguish between a terrorist and a soldier/'resistance fighter'.

Some definitions don't even refer to a ratio civilians//military, and would make Israel #2 behind the US :

See also the U.S. definitions, it's not as if we had many laws against terrorists anyway(, domestic or not, they rarely make a distinction, Palestine Action didn't even hurt anyone).
I've also heard that it's the way that the murders are made, as if money mattered and using tanks&planes was more civilized.

I couldn't find an exhaustive data from Iran or Lebanon, but the majority of the victims were civilians :
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casualties_of_the_Iran%E2%80%93Israel_war

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2024_Israeli_invasion_of_Lebanon

Shameless israeli fuckers, try to justify that they couldn't wait until their target leave the crowd, not that they haven't done worse, they're killing ~100 people every day so it's just one event among others :

https://www.telesurenglish.net/israeli-strike-on-aid-queue-in-deir-al-balah-kills-16-including-10-children

Nothing would surprise me/us anymore, they're not humans :

[T]here’s a report in Haaretz that quotes a professor named Michael Spagat, who’s an economist at Holloway College at the University of London. This guy is not a radical lefty. He’s a guy who basically spends his time doing statistical analysis about violent conflicts all over the place: Iraq, Syria, Kosovo. He estimates that 4% of the population of Gaza has been killed since October 7th. Four percent. And he says, ‘I’m not sure there’s another case in the 21st century that’s reached that high,’ right? The highest percentage of any population killed in this century, right?

And just by comparison—I did some back-of-the-envelope math—4% of the population killed, if you think about the percentage of people killed in Ukraine, 4% is probably 20 to 40 times higher than the percentage of people who have been killed in Ukraine, given that Ukraine has a significantly larger population, of course, than Gaza, right?

So, this is, as a percentage of the population, the largest slaughter of human beings on the planet in this century. And the goals have not been met. They have not been achieved. And, you know, there were people who were saying this from the very, very beginning. They were protesting against this slaughter from the very, very beginning. And they were mocked, they were reviled, many of them were kicked out of school, they were suspended, they were expelled, they were called antisemites, all of these things, and you know what? They were right. They were right.

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.ml/post/32874023

Death

Death

to the IDF

https://x.com/MintPressNews/status/1942337162860429546

Source.
Mondoweiss speaks about 82% of jewish israelis because there are ~20% of muslim-israelis who still have a heart, included in the 64% of the total israeli population :

More surveys here for those thinking that this one is an exception :

• aChord Center(, hebrew university, 2024–2025) : 60% of jewish israelis support forced emigration or transfer of Gazans.
  26% selected a neutral option, which was not offered in the Sorek poll above, and explains the discrepancy with Sorek's 82% ;
• Channel 13 News Poll(, Feb 2025) : 72% of israelis(, general population,) support the plan to exile Palestinians from Gaza. Again there's an opposition from muslim citizens so the percentage is way higher than 80% ;
• Peace Index(, Tel Aviv university, March 2025) : 62% of jewish israelis support evacuating gazans by military force(, and 70% that they should not be allowed to return), only 9% answered “i don’t know” ;
• Pew Research Center (2016) : 48% of jewish israelis think that arab israelis should be expelled or transferred from Israel(, p.153 here) ;
• Joint Israeli-Palestinian Survey(, July 2024) : They keep telling us that those who refuse 'a two-states solution'/'coming back to the 1967 borders' want peace and are only defending themselves, it's unbelievable that there's not overwhelmingly more palestinians in favor of war given the situation where it's their only issue, since international institutions are useless compared to the u.s. power :
  

I'll always find difficult to understand that the same people claiming to be religious are also the less virtuous, seems like we haven't read the same book or interpreted it similarly. I still feel that they'd be easier to convince than the cold technocrats thinking amorally in terms of costs and benefits :

Lemmygrad users 'are already convinced of'/'already know' that. It's so unbelievable that the israelis can consider themselves the victims while colonizing Gaza and the West Bank 🙄

The BRICS recently released a statement that includes this excerpt, asking for a just return to the 1967 borders is certainly too extreme for the west :

We reaffirm our support for the State of Palestine’s full membership in the United Nations in the context of the unwavering commitment to the two-state solution, in accordance with international law, including relevant UN Security Council and General Assembly resolutions, and the Arab Peace Initiative, that includes the establishment of a sovereign, independent and viable State of Palestine within the internationally recognized 1967 borders, which includes the Gaza Strip and the West Bank, with East Jerusalem as its capital, in order to achieve the vision of two States living side by side, in peace and security.
We affirm the need for adequate representation of Palestine in all relevant international organizations, including multilateral financial institutions, and access to their resources.

Just one more useless post.

In Perfect Victims, Mohammed El-Kurd argues that attempts to “humanize” Palestinians reinforce the Zionist politics they purport to contest.

Losses inflicted on Israel from Iran’s last month's attack on the regime’s largest oil refinery could amount to $3 billion, according to initial estimates by insurance companies and economic experts.

The estimates cited in a Sunday report by the Fars news agency said that the refinery in the Israeli-controlled city of Haifa had suffered $1.5-2 billion in damage to its physical installations as a result of the Iranian attack that took place on June 17.

The report said the refinery, which had a capacity of processing 197,000 barrels per day before the attack, would also lose some $450 million in monthly revenues until October, when it is expected to return to service.

The Israeli regime will have to increase its imports of oil products because of the hit as its other key refinery in the port of Ashdod is undergoing repairs, the report said, adding that rising imports would add more pressure on the regime’s finances at a time it is grappling with the aftermath of the war with Iran.

The report said that the closure of the refinery in Haifa has seriously affected domestic fuel prices in the occupied territories and has led to increasing transportation and manufacturing costs for the regime.

The fuel shortage has also increased the number of power cuts in Israeli-controlled cities and towns, leading to growing public dissatisfaction.

The attack on the refinery came after the Israeli regime targeted economic infrastructure in Iran, including a gas processing facility in the south of the country and two fuel storage facilities in the capital Tehran.

Reports have pointed to massive devastation in the Israeli capital of Tel Aviv and in Haifa as a result of Iranian attacks despite efforts by the regime to cover up the damage.

Iran ended its retaliatory attacks on Israel on June 24 after the US government said it had worked out a ceasefire to end the 12-day war between the two sides.

“I welcome this new chapter with great optimism,” said Lubna Musa. “Aladeen’s leadership brings an expanded global vision rooted in a deep understanding of our region. His appointment will strengthen our ability to serve more children, more effectively.”

“It is an honor to step into this role,” said Aladeen Shawa. “Having grown up in Gaza, with experience working there and in the West Bank periodically over the last three decades, I’ve seen firsthand the transformative work PCRF delivers. I look forward to working alongside Lubna and our teams to elevate our impact and reach even more children in Palestine and the region.”

This leadership alignment reflects PCRF’s mission to deliver high-quality medical care to children regardless of politics or borders, through unified global strategy and grounded local execution.

She stands in front of the cameras. Her eyes are red, her voice cracked. The tears flow freely, but she doesn’t try to wipe them away or stop them. The anchor asks her to talk about him. He’s used to asking such questions. She’s not used to answering them. Still, she emphasizes that she wasn’t surprised. “Since October 7, we’ve been living in fear. Every knock on the door, every phone call,” she says.

And then she decides to break the script. Instead of talking about what a wonderful person he was, instead of saying there was no one else like him, she chooses to say something else entirely.

“From the moment he finished high school, he’s been fighting, nonstop. He was already exhausted. They’re all exhausted. Mentally, they’re completely drained,” she says. “This has to stop.”

That moment came last week, a day after her son, Staff Sgt. Niv Radia, was killed along with six other soldiers by an explosive device in southern Gaza.

Speaking on Israel’s most-watched news channel, Radia’s mother, Alexandra, managed to shock many — perhaps even shake the foundations of public discourse. It was a rare moment in which the wall the army has tried to build between the public and the daily toll on combat soldiers began to crack.

The voices of reservists are often heard. They speak out about the impact on their businesses, their families, and the inequality they feel compared to segments of the population that don’t serve. But the voices of active-duty soldiers, those doing the daily fighting for nearly 21 months now, remain largely unheard and unknown to the Israeli public.

Even when journalists are embedded with IDF combat units, what they see isn’t the day-to-day reality — it’s a carefully orchestrated performance. Soldiers interviewed are handpicked by commanders and IDF spokespersons and thoroughly briefed on what they can and cannot say. And so, reporters return with the same clichés: “This is a generation of lions,” they declare. “Morale is sky-high.”

But active-duty army soldiers who spoke to Haaretz in recent months paint a very different picture — one that bears little resemblance to the official narrative.

They describe mounting exhaustion, severe physical and psychological strain, and a constant fear that they’ll be the next to have their names released as fallen.

Most refused to be quoted on the record. Five agreed to speak. They had just one request: “You sent us to war — now listen to what we have to say.”

• All names in this article have been changed.

Yonatan, 21, Kfir Brigade

“It happened a little after we entered Jabalya last November. During the day, the heat was unbearable — at night, we froze. Sand and dust clung constantly to my skin. We hardly saw any people, just dogs roaming everywhere. They were looking for food — anything, even rotting scraps. Our company commander warned us that anyone who so much as petted them would ‘face a court-martial and end up in jail.’ But I didn’t care. When no one was looking, I’d sneak them slices of sausage.

“A few days later, we were positioned near a house when a pack of dogs came close, barking nonstop. Our deputy commander got annoyed and decided to shoot one of them. The dog howled in pain — then fell silent. The others scattered, but he kept going, aiming down his sights and shooting another dog, then a few more. ‘They need to learn not to come near us. These are terrorists’ dogs — probably rabid,’ he said with a grin. I was furious, but I didn’t say a word. That night, I was ashamed of myself for not speaking up, for not trying to stop him.

“The next morning, we were sent on another house-clearing mission. We scanned the building with a drone and didn’t see anything, so we went in. Two minutes later, there was an explosion. The blast threw me through the air, and I couldn’t understand what had happened. Suddenly, I realized my mouth was full of blood. I thought I was wounded, but I wasn’t — it was the blood of my best friend in the unit. He kept calling my name, begging me to help, but I didn’t know what to do. I froze.

“Eventually the medics arrived and evacuated him. For days after, I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat — everything tasted like blood. We just kept going, clearing houses like nothing had happened, like everything was normal. Afterward, we were sent out of Gaza for a little while to ‘refresh,’ but I couldn’t do anything. I felt like someone had taken part of my soul.

“One morning the commander told us we were going back home to rest and everyone was excited — but I felt nothing. I felt dead, empty, completely numb. Right before sunset, the commander told me I had to guard the equipment at 2 A.M. I stood there for a few minutes before I felt like I couldn’t breathe — everything was closing in on me. I ran off to wash my face. When I came back, my officer was waiting. ‘Aren’t you ashamed of abandoning your post?’ he yelled. Then he told me I’d face disciplinary charges the next day.

“By morning, I was standing trial in front of the battalion commander. He asked if I had anything to say, but no words came out. ‘You’re getting 28 days of confinement,’ he said.

“I didn’t know what to do. When no one was looking, I grabbed my things and ran. Within hours I was sitting on the sand at Gordon Beach in Tel Aviv, still in uniform. I changed into civilian clothes and just sat there, feeling the cool breeze. I opened my phone and scrolled through messages with the friend who’d been injured. I wanted to send him something — even though he was unconscious — but I couldn’t figure out what to say. The hours passed and I had no idea what to do. Go back to base? Go to my parents? And what would I even tell them? Lie and say they let us out? Tell the truth? I had no clue.

“They taught us how to charge forward, how to fix a jammed weapon, how to bandage a wounded friend. But no one taught me what to do after you taste your best friend’s blood."

Or, 20, Paratroopers Reconnaissance Unit

“My breaking point didn’t come in Lebanon or Khan Yunis — it happened in Tel Aviv. After ages without being home, they finally gave us 48 hours leave. It was a week after my birthday, and my parents wanted to celebrate with a big family dinner. I just wanted to stay home and sleep — but I didn’t want to disappoint them.

“When we got to the restaurant, everyone hugged and kissed me and asked how things were. All I could manage was a vague ‘fine.’

“I ordered shrimp pasta. When it arrived, I felt everything rise up inside me — like I was going to throw up. I rushed to the bathroom and vomited harder than I ever had in my life. Then I splashed water on my face and looked in the mirror — I looked awful, like I’d aged ten years. When I came back, my grandmother looked at me and asked, ‘Are you okay? You’re white as a ghost.’ I didn't know what to say. I just wanted to disappear.

“Meanwhile, everyone kept eating. The smells overwhelmed me — I thought I was going to throw up again. ‘Why aren’t you eating?’ they asked over and over. I couldn’t answer. The smell was driving me mad — I couldn’t get it out of my body. At first, I didn’t understand what was happening — and then it hit me: it was the smell of corpses.

“A few days earlier, we’d approached the rubble of a house in Khan Yunis that had been bombed by the air force. In the debris — what was once walls — we suddenly found five, maybe six bodies. There were flies everywhere, and I think dogs had torn at the flesh. There was barely anything left. Two of them were small children — I saw their bones. It was horrible, unforgettable, something that still haunts my nights. But more than anything, I remember the smell — it took over my body, clung to my clothes. Even after I sprayed myself with deodorant nonstop that night, it wouldn’t leave me.

“After the restaurant we went home, and I went straight to my room without saying a word. I didn’t want to leave until Sunday, but my friends insisted we go to a party in Tel Aviv. We drank endlessly — all night. I tried to smile, tried to laugh. ‘What’s up with you?’ they asked. ‘Nothing, nothing,’ I replied. Around 1 A.M., the DJ played some track I didn’t know with pounding bass. It felt like everything was closing in — like I couldn’t breathe. I ran to the bathroom. It smelled like sewage and it reminded me of Gaza.

“In the stall, I tried to calm my breathing, but nothing helped. My heart was pounding out of control. I left the club without saying anything to my friends, grabbed a taxi that cost me something like 300 shekels, went home and crashed. I stayed in bed all weekend, until it was time to go back.

“Sunday morning, I reported for duty in the Gaza border area. We packed the gear and loaded up quickly onto the Humvees that took us back in. I wanted to jump off. I wanted to run — but I didn't have the guts. So I kept going. Another week of explosions. Another week of socks glued to my skin, of heat I can’t even describe. A living nightmare. I just want it to be over already — please. I’m exhausted as if I’m 80 years old.”

Omer, 21, Givati Brigade

“Sometimes when I think about it, it’s hard to believe this war has been going on for only 20 months — it feels like 10 years. I was there from the start, when they rushed us to the kibbutzim in the Gaza border region just hours after it all began. I still haven’t been able to process what I saw there. Burned-out cars, people screaming, gunfire, explosions. What I remember most is the smell of corpses in Kfar Aza — the smell of death, like a steak forgotten on the grill.

“But honestly, there are a lot of things I don’t remember at all — entire hours wiped from my memory. What did I even do there? I have no idea. And there was no time to think about it anyway. Right after October 7 we started preparing to go into Gaza. We were in a kind of high — we wanted it so badly. Now it just seems so stupid to me. I’ve lost track of how many people I knew who’ve been killed — from my battalion, my brigade, my school, my neighborhood. I don’t have the strength to hear about one more. It breaks me.

“They didn’t even let me attend most of the funerals. They said we were needed — that they couldn’t let everyone go. And the ones I did attend — they were awful. How can you sit there and listen to the battalion commander recite clichés about friends of mine he didn’t even know, about fighters he never cared about?

“People think soldiers die in battle, but the truth is, lots of them died for no reason — because of officers’ negligence, or because there weren’t enough munitions to bomb a building before sending us into it. Then the media says he died from an explosive device and everyone thinks it makes sense. It feels like no one cares. How many more friends do I have to bury before people wake up?

“All of us have wills saved in our phones — in the notes app. Sometimes at night we talk about what our funerals will be like, try to guess how many people will come, if our ex will cry. ‘Do you think Tuna [an Israeli rapper] would agree to sing at my funeral if I put it in my will?’ a friend once asked me. ‘If I die, promise me you’ll tell my mom I didn’t suffer — that it wasn’t hard for me,’ another friend said. Two weeks later he was wounded by an anti-tank missile.

“And if that’s not enough, now they’re forcing us to do another four months of reserve duty. No one asks if we want to or if we even can. ‘There’s nothing we can do — we’re short on soldiers,’ the officers say. And if anyone complains, they threaten him with jail — call him a traitor, a coward. So most of us stay quiet. Sometimes we cry to our moms on the phone, or to a friend we feel safe with. But even that doesn’t always help. It’s just shit. I’ve had enough. I can’t do it anymore.

“In high school I was sure that right after the army I’d take the psychometric exam and go study medicine — like I always dreamed. But now? I just want to run away. Travel. Rest. Do drugs. Forget. I don’t know what will be left of me. I already know I’m not the same person I was — that’s for sure."

Yair, 21, Nahal Reconnaissance Unit

“There were ten of us. It was 2 A.M., maybe 3. Just a routine ambush in the northern part of Gaza, I think near Beit Lahia. I suddenly woke up in a panic and realized everyone was asleep — even the officer. I woke him up, and he freaked out, started yelling at the whole team like a madman. It was surreal — I think he forgot that yelling like that could expose our position, but no one dared say anything.

“‘You bunch of idiots,’ he screamed. ‘You want to die out here? What are you, brain-dead?’ He completely lost it — like something had been building inside him for months and just exploded. The next day, he pulled me aside and made me swear not to tell anyone outside the unit that he had fallen asleep.

“It wasn’t the first time something like that happened and honestly, any soldier who’s served in Gaza knows it. You don’t sleep during the day and then you’re sent on night missions — we’re just collapsing. It might sound weird to admit, but it’s kind of a miracle Hamas hasn’t taken advantage of it more.

“Every time there’s some serious incident in the news, people criticize us — ‘How could this happen?’ they ask. But what do you expect when we’ve been fighting for months and barely get to go home?

“People who’ve never been here think the hard part is just the big events — when soldiers are killed or wounded. But the struggle is also in the small stuff, the things no one talks about on the news. Do you know what it’s like to walk around for days with a ceramic vest glued to your back? What it means not to take off your boots for ten days straight? To lie in the dirt covering your team and not be able to keep your eyes open? To be packed so tight together that even the people you love drive you crazy?

“I remember once a guy on our team kept humming a song that got stuck in his head. It pushed me over the edge and I threw a can of tuna at him. ‘What the hell’s wrong with you?’ he shouted. We almost got into a fight. If the others hadn’t stepped in, I don’t know how it would’ve ended. I apologized, but I’m still ashamed I did that.

“The worst part is it doesn’t just happen with the guys in the unit — it happens with my family too, with my girlfriend. A few months ago, I came home and just started yelling at her — for no reason, just because she moved one of my shirts. She started crying and walked out. I begged her to forgive me. I didn’t know what to do. I started crying too and she hugged me. I don’t think I’ve ever cried like that before.

“Later we tried to have sex and I just couldn’t. Nothing worked. She tried to calm me down, but I went into this spiral — convinced this was how it would be from now on, that the war had broken me. That she would leave me.

“Lately, my hair has even started falling out from the stress. I keep touching it, pulling it without even realizing. It’s destroying me. I keep telling myself I have no right to cry — that I’m lucky compared to others. One of our squads was completely wiped out. I’m alive. I wasn’t hit by a missile or an explosive device.

“But still, it’s hard. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover. I just want everything to be normal again — like it used to be.”

Uri, 22, Yahalom combat engineering unit

“At some point, I just stopped believing in what we’re doing. During the first year, I was all in — totally committed to every mission. I really believed we were part of something historic, that we were protecting Israeli civilians, that we were helping to rescue the hostages.

“But little by little, I started to doubt it. After you hear about another hostage killed because of an airstrike, after you attend yet another funeral for a friend — it just starts to fade.

“I can’t go on another mission. I can’t go back to the same areas we’ve already been through a million times, investigate another tunnel shaft, enter another building that might be booby-trapped. And for what? Anyone with half a brain can see this war is continuing for political reasons. There’s no reason to keep going. We’re not achieving anything — we’re just risking our lives over and over again.

“Even the commanders don’t know how to explain it anymore, how to convince us to keep at it. Except for the religious guys, no one understands what we’re doing. No one believes we’re helping to bring the hostages home. If anything, we’re putting them in more danger.

“Every time I got close to a tunnel shaft, that thought would hit me. What if the intel is wrong? What if there are hostages down there? What if the terrorists hear us and kill them? And if that happens — how could I live with myself? How could I go on?

“The officers will call it a mistake and say that’s just war — and I’ll have to live with the guilt and shame. No one’s going to help me. Just like no one’s helping my wounded friends. Some of them the commanders didn’t even bother to visit. They were just left on their own.

“Luckily, I’m about to be discharged. But what about the rest of them? I look at the younger soldiers in my unit and I can’t help but wonder — who will live and who will come home in a coffin? It’s awful, but that’s our reality. This has to stop. We can’t bring back the ones we’ve lost, but there are still so many more we can save.

“When will you understand that it’s time to end this? When there are 900 dead? A thousand? Please — stop. Speak out. Protest. Don’t let all this death keep going.”

User Thisisme8719 summed up this article well:

Haaretz published accounts of the trauma, exhaustion, anger, and inability to adjust to civilian life, from a few IOF soldiers who served in Gaza. What traumatized them? Being participants in genocide? Being part of the same military as people posting their war crimes on Tik Tok? That their airforce dropped bunker busters in densely populated refugee camps and "safe" zones? That their fellow soldiers sniped children, grandmothers, and people carrying white flags? That people's homes, the hospitals and clinics where people are treated, even water treatment facilities, were destroyed? Nah.

Anybody who has been paying attention to the oppression of Palestinians is unlikely to sympathize much with these leathernecks, but it is a useful reminder that even oppressors are still human and have human weaknesses: they wake up, they breathe, they eat, they shit, they fuck, they eat some more, maybe they fuck again depending on how late it is and how much they ate, they sleep, they age, but most importantly, they feel all sorts of emotions, no matter how hard the military tried to tear those out.

He is obsessed with protecting Raed, who has suffered from malnutrition and whose immune system is fragile.

“He’s not allowed to leave the tent. One scrape could mean evacuation. And I will not live through that humiliation again. I just want him safe.”

Yousef himself now exhibits symptoms of post-traumatic stress syndrome, a common affliction for those exposed to extreme trauma, torture and mental torment, as he has been.

“When I see a bed, I see scattered limbs,” Yousef told The Electronic Intifada. “I hate the dark. I can’t sleep without noise. I see my wife’s face mutilated. I wake, gasping, clinging to my son.”

To make a little money, he has opened a small solar panel charging station in Jabaliya, where he and his family are determined to stay.

Yousef proved a lifeline for my father, as he and those like him have been for so many others.

His quick thinking and training saved my father from lethal danger. My father had passed out, and suffered shrapnel wounds, but it could have been much worse if Yousef had not pressed the damp gauze against his face and kept his airways open.

The bond between my father and Yousef remains untouched by the distance now dividing them.

Yousef has endured the unimaginable, yet he never lost his humanity nor the instinct to save others.

A 37-year-old […] from a West Bank settlement, previously charged with murdering his mother and committed to a psychiatric hospital pending trial, was arrested Wednesday on suspicion of killing a fellow patient in his 60s.

A postmortem examination at the National Institute of Forensic Medicine determined that the victim had been beaten to death. On Thursday, the Jerusalem Magistrate's Court extended the suspect's detention by eight days.

The suspect, who has been held in custody pending trial, was recently transferred to Jerusalem's Kfar Shaul Mental Health Center for evaluation. Police say [that] he allegedly assaulted the fellow patient in a corridor and was later captured on security cameras attempting to climb the facility's fences in an effort to escape.

According to the indictment for his mother's murder, the suspect suffocated her with a pillow and then tried to stage the scene to cover up the crime. Police initially believed [that] her death was from natural causes, but the suspect later confessed.

"The defendant held a folding knife and climbed on top of [his mother], who tried to reach for another knife to defend herself. After deliberation, the defendant decided to suffocate her using a pillow," the indictment states.

"To complete the act, he pressed his foot on her neck and continued choking her for approximately four more minutes until she died."

Hamas expressed satisfaction with the wording of the new proposal for a Gaza cease-fire deal and noted that mediators are making great efforts to reach an agreement between the parties, according to the Saudi Asharq News.

According to the report, Hamas is expected to submit its official response to the proposal by Friday evening. However, the report also says that the […] group continues to take issue with several points of the proposal. Its primary concerns are related to the entry of humanitarian aid to the Strip and the withdrawal of the IDF from areas in the Gaza Strip, which the proposal mentions without indicating specific dates or including maps.

The report further states that Hamas says it is treating the proposal with "responsibility" and is willing to demonstrate flexibility provided that Palestinian interests are met.

As well:

The proposed cease-fire deal between Israel and Hamas would see the […] group release 10 of the remaining living hostages and return the bodies of 18 deceased hostages it holds in five stages over a 60-day period, according to a report from The New York Times.

Citing Israeli and Palestinian officials briefed on the evolving agreement, the newspaper states this marks a significant shift from an earlier American proposal in May. That plan called for all hostages to be freed within the first seven days of a cease-fire.

The officials spoke anonymously due to the sensitive nature of the diplomacy.

(Thanks to Rima Hassan)

July 2, 2025

We, ministers and Knesset members, call for the immediate initiation of sovereignty and the application of Israeli law over Judea and Samaria.

This is a demand to approve a government decision to begin sovereignty, and to do so before the end of the Knesset’s summer session.

After the historic achievements of the State of Israel under the leadership of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in confronting the threats from Iran and terrorism, it is necessary to complete the Zionist vision, eliminate hopes for the establishment of a Palestinian state, and secure a promising future in the heart of our homeland.

Strategic cooperation and support from the United States and President Donald Trump demonstrate a willingness to assist Israel in securing its security and asserting its rights.

The July 1, 2025 Supreme Court ruling proves that the absence of sovereignty in Judea and Samaria is what creates legal and security risks for Israel. The time for sovereignty has come!

Signatories :

Amir Ohana – Speaker of the Knesset
Yariv Levin – Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Justice
Israel Katz – Minister of National Security
Yoav Kisch – Minister of Education
Miri Regev – Minister of Transportation and Road Safety
Eli Cohen – Minister of Foreign Affairs
Miki Zohar – Minister of Culture and Sports
Nir Barkat – Minister of Economy and Industry
Avi Dichter – Minister of Agriculture and Food Security
Shlomo Karhi – Minister of Communications
Haim Katz – Minister of Tourism and former Minister of Housing and Construction
Gila Gamliel – Minister of Innovation, Science, and Technology
Amichai Shikli – Minister of Diaspora Affairs and the Fight Against Antisemitism
Idit Silman – Minister of Environmental Protection
Mai Golan – Minister for the Advancement of the Status of Women
Dudi Amsalem – Minister in the Ministry of Justice, Minister for Regional Cooperation, and Minister for Government-Knesset Relations

In the Netzarim Corridor area of central Gaza, the U.S.-backed Gaza Humanitarian Foundation operates a food distribution center, the only one serving the north and central parts of the Strip.

In recent weeks, thousands have gathered around it, many remaining there for days, hoping to return home with food for their families. Some have built makeshift shelters from scraps to shield themselves from the heat; others use the sacks meant to carry food as head coverings. They lie under the sun for days, hoping to reach the food in time, despite the clear danger posed by Israeli warning fire.

All experts and humanitarian organizations warned Israel that the plan to introduce the foundation would lead to disaster, as it violates every humanitarian principle developed over decades of aid distribution to civilian populations in conflict zones.

The first principle is that food should reach the people, not the other way around. But Israel, the United States and the organizations that established the GHF ignored all warnings, and so far, hundreds have been killed around the aid centers.

After the prime minister and defense minister dismissed the Haaretz investigation into the killing of civilians near aid centers as a "blood libel" and denied any problem, the military yesterday acknowledged "tragic incidents," even placing new signs and fences along the routes to aid facilities.

But for Abd al-Karim al-Kahlut, a 35-year-old father of two young daughters from Gaza City, it is already too late.

Al-Kahlut embodies the desperation and cruelty facing the residents of the Gaza Strip.

A metalworker by trade, before the war, he had purchased equipment to open his own workshop. Even during the war, he continued to work.

"He built a business and it was going well, until the crossings were shut down and he couldn't continue," said his brother Safwat, who fled Gaza with his family.

During the war, Abd al-Karim's home was destroyed, and he moved in with his brother's family. Safwat said he sent money to his brother from abroad, but it wasn't enough. In order to access money sent from outside Gaza, Abd al-Karim had to forfeit a large percentage to various middlemen, and whatever was left quickly lost its value.

"There was a time when 100 shekels covered everything you needed. Now it barely buys a kilo and a half of flour," the brother said.

According to Safwat, his brother had visited the GHF food distribution site in Netzarim twice in the past two weeks. The last time was Wednesday, when he arrived along with thousands of other desperate residents. As on most days over the past month, gunfire was opened on those waiting in the sand — apparently to drive them back. Abd al-Karim didn't manage to get food and was wounded by the gunfire.

Safwat said his brother returned home with a gunshot wound to his buttocks, which at first didn't seem serious. But after a few hours, according to his family, he began to feel pain and went to Shifa Hospital.

"The doctors told him it was superficial and sent him home. In Gaza today, unless your legs or arms have been blown off, no one pays attention," Safwat said. "He came home, but then his whole body started to hurt, and he couldn't stand on his feet."

Safwat adds that another brother later took Abd al-Karim back to the hospital, where doctors discovered a bullet inside his body. He underwent surgery successfully. In any decent hospital, in a functioning environment, he would undoubtedly have recovered in a matter of days and returned to his family. But after a year and a half of war, Shifa is no longer a functioning hospital.

Like the rest of Gaza's hospitals, Shifa is facing levels of strain few hospitals in the world have ever had to endure. Hundreds of wounded and sick flood its wards every day. Many require complex treatment for shrapnel injuries, blast trauma, or gunshot wounds; others suffer from malnutrition, infectious diseases, or chronic illnesses worsened by dire living conditions.

One of the most critical problems hospitals face is access to CT scans. Only a few imaging machines remain in Gaza, and they have been running nearly nonstop for almost two years, poorly maintained and barely functional.

Patients in need of a CT scan are sometimes transferred dozens of kilometers just to be examined.

Abd al-Karim's condition didn't appear severe enough to justify precious minutes on the machine, so the doctors didn't perform a scan. "There's one machine and a lot of wounded," his brother explains. Meanwhile, he was suffering from internal bleeding that the doctors failed to detect, and a day after the surgery, he died from his wounds.

"In Gaza today, the problem isn't who dies," Safwat adds. "We say those who die are finally at peace. The real problem is those who are left with the pain."

Now the family is worried about their father, who suffers from heart disease and needs medication. "His medicine ran out a long time ago, and he could die at any moment — he can't strain himself at all. Now we're afraid for him, because the grief over his son is weighing on his heart," Safwat said.

"What hurts me most is the little girls, ages 3 and 5. Every time I think of them, I cry. What will they do without a father? How will they manage? Gaza isn't like Israel or France, where there's a government that takes care of you. Here, if you don't have a father, you're nothing. Every night they used to fall asleep in his arms — and now, from yesterday until the end of their lives, they have no father. What will they do? How can you explain that to them?"

(Emphasis original.)

Israel Police and the Shin Bet security service announced that a couple in their 30s from the central Israeli city of Raanana was arrested on suspicion of spying for Iran.

According to the statement, detectives searched their apartment on Monday, seized phones, computers and electronic devices and discovered correspondence suspected to be between the couple and their operator.

A hearing took place Tuesday morning to address a request to extend their detention.

Over 20 Israelis have been arrested over the past few months on suspicion of committing security offenses for Iran.

The State Prosecutor's Office announced Sunday that a 30-year-old Israeli, Dennis Lyakhov, a resident of the central city of Rishon Letzion, was charged with offenses against national security, including contact with an Iranian agent and providing intelligence to an enemy state.

Anybody who collaborates with a foreign power to undermine an apartheid régime is all right in my book.

Mattan here. I'm writing to you with urgency–and with hope. The Israeli war machine is escalating. What began as a genocidal campaign in Gaza spiraled into a full-blown regional assault. As Israel expanded its assault into Iran, it became clear to us all: this government has no intention of stopping its endless wars, not just on the Palestinian people but throughout the Middle East. It's not about hostages. It's not about defense. It's about annihilation–and political survival.

But there is another force at work. A growing refusal movement from within Israeli society is threatening the very foundation of this war effort. And with your support, we've been helping lead it. Following the ceasefire with Iran, the mainstream Israeli media is covering the "return to normalcy". But there is nothing normal, not just about the regional assault on Iran, but about the continuation of the genocide in Gaza as well.

And as Israel continues to try to normalize a life of endless warfare and instability, we continue to escalate our tactics and efforts. We need to be ready to support new movements, spontaneous refusers, and civil resistance across the country's streets that are already emerging as the public grows evermore tired from endless warfare.

That is why we are building a new ecosystem of refusal, but we cannot do it without your help. We've raised 60% of our $30,000 goal so far, and we urgently need our supporters across the world to help us close the gap so that we can effectively resist the Israeli war machine.

Over the past month, we've brought you inside the growing infrastructure of resistance we've built, together, in the heart of a militarized state.

We told you how our new initiative, Hitnagdut, is transforming spontaneous dissent into organized refusal, equipping activists with the training, support, and resources they need to grow into a sustained anti-war force.

We told you how Soldiers for Hostages, the movement of reservists publicly refusing to serve, was incubated through RSN support, and how it's now grown into the most visible and politically disruptive refuser initiative in Israel today. Over 325 soldiers have already signed on. And that number is only rising.

And we told you about the emotional toll of refusal, how RSN is building the support structures that keep activists from burning out, breaking down, or giving up.

This isn't just about ending this war. It's about stopping the next one, ending the occupation and bringing freedom, equality and justice to everyone from the river to the sea. Right now, RSN is one of the only international organizations in the world positioned to stop the war machine from within. And we are being stretched to our limits. We've raised 60% of our $30,000 goal.

But we are facing exponential growth in need. More reservists. More youth. More calls for help. And more groups asking us to support their refusal. We have the experience. We have the infrastructure. We just need the resources.

The Israeli government is afraid. They are arresting, fining, and jailing public refusers at a level we haven't seen in decades. But the cracks are already there, and they're widening. Refusal is not just spreading. It's becoming contagious.

Let's keep pushing. Let's reach our $30,000 goal. Let's turn this moment into a movement that can't be stopped.

In solidarity,

Mattan Helman
Executive Director
Refuser Solidarity Network

(Taken from an email sent to me by the Refuser Solidarity Network. Emphasis original.)

Critical aid and support to the people of Gaza—only translatable as this is yet another way we will annihilate you. Johnnie Moore is an Evangelical leader who began his career as Senior Vice President for Communications for Liberty University—the private Evangelical school founded by Jerry Falwell Sr. [https://electronicintifada.net/content/father-christian-zionism-leaves-building/6923] and went on to found the Kairo Company, a public relations firm based in Glendale, California. The group insists: We get the job done… Whatever it takes. If we’re harping on words, a pause for Kairos’ stated approach: