Gaza has endured for thousands of years, and neither Trump nor Israel can erase it. The city’s resistance to plans of displacement and erasure underscores its unyielding spirit, having withstood millennia of challenges. Suggestions to demolish Gaza and clear its ruins for redevelopment reflect the logic of invasion: destroy, then declare the land empty. Yet, Gaza is not and never has been empty. Its history stretches back to antiquity, long before cities like London or Paris existed. Empires have risen and fallen here, each leaving their mark on this ancient land. Today, amidst the rubble and destruction, a child’s voice rises, singing, “My homeland, my homeland, my homeland is me,” a poignant reminder that the Palestinians and their land are inseparable.

What is happening in Gaza is not just a war but a cultural genocide—a deliberate attempt to erase its past to deny its people a future. Over 200 heritage sites, 1,100 mosques, three churches, and 40 cemeteries have been targeted, with bodies exhumed and stolen. This is not collateral damage but a calculated campaign to sever Gaza from its history. Before the Israeli genocide, Gaza was home to 12 universities, producing world-class scholars, doctors, and engineers. Today, these institutions lie in ruins, as Israel systematically targets academics, killing over 90 professors, hundreds of teachers, and thousands of students. An educated Palestinian is seen as a threat to those who wish to see them vanish.  

Gaza is the backbone of Palestinian national identity. After the Nakba of 1948, it became a refuge for hundreds of thousands of displaced Palestinians. From its streets emerged leaders like Yasser Arafat and poets like Said al-Mazini, who penned the Palestinian national anthem. The destruction of Gaza is not new; it has always been part of Israel’s plan, supported by the West. Two decades ago, Israeli strategist Arnon Sofer chillingly predicted Gaza’s future, advocating relentless violence to ensure survival. The Israelis sealed Gaza, starved it, and now seek to annihilate it. Yet, the Palestinians remain, standing on the ruins of a stolen history, refusing to let their past be rewritten.  

Trump’s vision for Gaza is a colonial one rooted in genocide, seeking not only to destroy but to erase—to turn Gaza into an empty void. This mirrors the logic of colonisation that justified the slaughter of indigenous peoples in the Americas and Australia. But Gaza’s people resist, knowing that to leave would mean submitting to the lie that their land was ever empty. For the world, Gaza may appear as rubble, but for Palestinians, it is sacred land where memories breathe beneath the dust. The world must not allow this cultural genocide to succeed. Gaza must be rebuilt, not erased. Gaza is not nothing; it is a human heritage, a testament to resilience, and a symbol of the unbreakable bond between a people and their land.