After the Ceasefire, the Violence Continues – and Cries for New Words

Since October 10, 2025, the day when the US-brokered ceasefire between Israel and Hamas was announced, Israel has killed at least 401 civilians, including at least 148 children. This has led Palestinian scholar Saree Makdisi to decry a “continuing genocide, albeit one that has shifted gears and has—for now—moved into the slow lane. Rather than hundreds at a time, it is killing by twos and threes” or by twenties and thirties as on November 19 and November 23 – “an obscenity that has coalesced into a new normal.” The Guardian columnist Nesrine Malik describes the post-ceasefire period as nothing more than a “reducefire,” quoting the warning issued by Amnesty International’s secretary general Agnès Callamard that the ”world must not be fooled” into believing that Israel’s genocide is over.

A visual analysis of satellite images conducted by the BBC has established that since the declared ceasefire, “the destruction of buildings in Gaza by the Israeli military has been continuing on a huge scale,” entire neighborhoods “levelled” through “demolitions,” including large swaths of farmland and orchards. The Guardian reported already in March of 2024, that satellite imagery proved the “destruction of about 38-48% of tree cover and farmland” and 23% of Gaza’s greenhouses “completely destroyed.” Writing about the “colossal violence” Israel has wrought on Gaza, Palestinian legal scholar Rabea Eghbariah lists “several variations” on the term “genocide” which researchers found the need to introduce, such as “urbicide” (the systematic destruction of cities), “domicide” (systematic destruction of housing), “sociocide,” “politicide,” and “memoricide.” Others have added the concepts “ecocide,” “scholasticide” (the systematic destruction of Gaza’s schools, universities, libraries), and “medicide” (the deliberate attacks on all aspects of Gaza’s healthcare with the intent to “wipe out” all medical care). It is only the combination of all these “-cides,” all amounting to massive war crimes, that adequately manages to describe the Palestinian condition. Constantine Zurayk introduced the term “Nakba” (“catastrophe” in Arabic) in 1948 to name the unparalleled “magnitude and ramifications of the Zionist conquest of Palestine” and its historical “rupture.” When Eghbariah argues for “Nakba” as a “new legal concept,” he underlines, however, that to understand its magnitude, one needs to go back to the 1917 Balfour Declaration, in which the British colonial power promised “a national home for the Jewish people” in Palestine, even though just 6 % of its population were Jewish. From Nakba as the “constitutive violence of 1948,” we need today to conceptualize “Nakba as a structure,” an “overarching frame.”

As a scholar of genocide and trauma and their literary and philosophical representations, I study how the creation of words (such as “reducefire,” “medicide,” “memoricide” or the coining of “Nakba” as a concept) makes realities thinkable for which previously there were no words. This is important because, as Eghbariah underlines, “generating legal language […] to name certain types of oppression is a crucial step toward demanding justice.” “Naming,” Eghbariah quotes a legal study from 1981, “may be the critical transformation,” because naming opens new narrative possibilities. But to find words to name, we also need to listen. Rosemary Zayigh’s oral histories of displaced Palestinians are foundational. Sherene Seikaly describes the heartrending difficulty of finding language in the midst of today’s devastation: “To parent in genocide is to exist in fragments between speech and silence. It is to find words to prepare children for forced absences, sudden deaths, unexpected arrests, and critical injuries” and to “witness famine robbing speech.”

During the last week of November, two independent agencies issued two reports that documented the systematic destruction still inflicted by Israel. These reports received scant attention, now that the American public is under the false assumption that “peace” has arrived in Gaza.

The report “Developments in the economy of the Occupied Palestinian Territory” was published by the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD). Its summary states that the scale of destruction “has unleashed cascading crises, economic, humanitarian, environmental, and social, propelling the Occupied Palestinian Territory from de-development to utter ruin. The military operations have ravaged vital infrastructure, including hospitals, universities, schools, places of worship, cultural heritage sites, water and sanitation systems, agricultural land and telecommunications and energy networks.” Towards the end, the report warns that while the dependence of Gaza on aid is “absolute, […] even this lifeline is obstructed by violence,” adding that Israel’s military campaign has “plunged Gaza into a human-made abyss, without a respite in sight. The sustained, systematic destruction casts significant doubt on the ability of Gaza to reconstitute itself as a liveable space and society.” Without respite in sight, the 'sociocide' is expanding today, during the 'reducefire.” It is rare to read in the official report of a UN agency an expression like “human-made abyss.”

A second report resulted from a study undertaken by a team from the Max Planck Institute for Demographic Research (MPIDR) and the Centre for Demographic Studies (CED) in Rostock, Germany, on the true death toll of Israel’s campaign of annihilation in Gaza. Using a scientific modeling approach, and based on data received from a number of different public sources from Israel, Gaza, and the United Nations, the researchers established that the official death toll by the Gaza Ministry of Health very likely reflected an undercount of at least 35%. In concrete numbers, they estimate the death toll between October 7, 2023, and December 31, 2024, to exceed 78,000 people. After their study’s publication, the scientists also presented an update estimating that by October 6 of this year, the “violent death toll” had “likely surpassed 100,000.” However, as the lead author Ana C. Gómez-Ugarte added, this estimate does not take into account the “indirect effects of war, which are often greater and more long-lasting,” meaning that the toll is likely to be much higher. Already in July 2024, three researchers affiliated with Canadian, Palestinian, British and US research institutes had warned in a “Correspondence” to the renowned medical journal The Lancet that “in recent conflicts, such indirect deaths range from three to 15 times the number of direct deaths,” and that it would be plausible to apply a “conservative estimate of four indirect deaths per one direct death” to the death count in Gaza. The researchers point out that it is impossible to know how many dead are buried under the rubble. Using their “conservative” numbers, the estimated death toll would reach a staggering half a million.

Given that Israel had dropped already in February 2024 the equivalent of two atomic bombs, these numbers are unfortunately not unrealistic, also in light of the threat, issued in November 2023 by the Likud Minister Avi Dichter that Israel would be “rolling out the Gaza Nakba and that there was “no way to wage a war.” Indeed, the correct concept should be “campaign of annihilation,” not “war.” This is what Palestinian legal scholar Noura Erakat responded to when she warned in February 2024 that Israel did not want peace, but a “Nakba peace.” She described “Nakba peace” as “the establishment of security achieved through the removal of native Palestinians who, by their very existence and refusal to disappear, challenge Zionist settler sovereignty.” Her words prove today prophetic. The so-called “peace plan” that is in place with US support allows only for a “Nakba peace” under whose auspices, as Makdisi writes, “Israel can confine an entire population without any means of subsistence to an utterly desolated wasteland and leave it entirely dependent on a trickle of aid handouts that it can turn on and off at will.”

We have to pressure our political representatives to stand up against the appalling variety of “-cides” that define Palestinian life and that risk becoming accepted as the new normal. We have to learn and teach the new words that name these new forms of “colossal violence.” We have to pressure our political representatives to reject the current “Nakba peace” and push for a future that is based on true equality of political rights for Palestinians and Israelis. Crucial steps

include demanding legislative oversight, such as insisting on the State Department’s and Department of Defense’s adherence to the Leahy Laws that prohibit financial and military assistance to foreign military or police units involved in gross human rights violations, and adherence to international law. Other steps include supporting civic advocacy groups dedicated to pursuing a just future in Israel/ Palestine, such as Amnesty International, Jewish Voice for Peace, the Palestinian Futures Fund, the development organization in Palestine, Taawon, and the American Friends Service Committee. But no less important is to finally center Palestinian voices, in Gaza, the West Bank, and here in the United States, and, in Sherene Seikaly’s words, to “listen to ordinary people narrating extraordinary things.” As Seikaly reminds us with Rosemary Sayigh, Palestinians tell their stories to assert “living despite catastrophe” and to “hold tightly” to their “visions of the possible.”

Elisabeth Weber is a Professor of Comparative Literature at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and a Public Voices Fellow with The OpEd Project at UCSB.