The White House’s unusually direct language calling Israeli policies in Gaza “unacceptable” marks a significant shift in the Biden administration’s public stance toward its closest Middle Eastern ally. After months of diplomatic pressure behind closed doors, Washington’s frustration has spilled into public view as humanitarian conditions in Gaza reach catastrophic levels.
“What we’re seeing unfold is a calculated starvation campaign,” said Maria Patel, emergency response coordinator at Physicians for Human Rights, speaking to me via satellite phone from the Egypt-Gaza border. “The trucks sit here for days while permissions are denied for reasons that change daily.”
The numbers tell a stark story. Before October 7th, approximately 500 aid trucks entered Gaza daily. Today, that figure has dropped to fewer than 100 on most days, according to United Nations data. In northern Gaza, where Israeli military operations have intensified, virtually no assistance has arrived for weeks.
Prime Minister Netanyahu’s office responded to mounting pressure by announcing a temporary opening of the Kerem Shalom crossing, but aid organizations report the measure is woefully inadequate. The Israeli security cabinet continues to debate additional entry points, even as Defense Minister Gallant publicly broke ranks with Netanyahu, demanding increased humanitarian access.
“The strategic divergence within Israel’s leadership is becoming impossible to conceal,” said Robert Malley, former U.S. Special Envoy to Iran, when I spoke with him in Brussels last week. “Netanyahu faces competing pressures – from families of hostages who see aid as leverage for negotiations, and from far-right ministers who oppose any concessions.”
This tension was visible during yesterday’s Knesset session, where Religious Zionism party ministers threatened to collapse the governing coalition if “concessions to Hamas” continued. Minister Ben-Gvir’s inflammatory social media posts calling aid workers “terrorist sympathizers” further complicated diplomatic efforts.
The immediate human consequences are devastating. The World Food Programme officially declared famine conditions in northern Gaza last week, with their assessment showing over 75% of the population now food insecure. Dehydration and malnutrition-related deaths are accelerating, particularly among children and the elderly.
Walking through the Rafah crossing coordination center last month, I witnessed the bureaucratic labyrinth aid shipments must navigate. Documentation requirements have multiplied since January, with some organizations reporting approval processes that stretch weeks for basic medical supplies.
“Each day we submit the same paperwork with slight modifications, hoping this version will satisfy ever-changing criteria,” explained Tareq al-Jabari, logistics coordinator for the Palestinian Red Crescent. “Meanwhile, insulin sits in warehouses while diabetic patients die.”
The diplomatic fallout extends beyond Washington. European Union foreign policy chief Josep Borrell called Israel’s aid restrictions “collective punishment” during Monday’s EU Foreign Affairs Council meeting. France and Germany, traditionally cautious in their criticism of Israel, joined a fourteen-country statement demanding immediate compliance with International Court of Justice orders.
Israel’s strategic position appears increasingly isolated. Even United Arab Emirates officials, architects of the Abraham Accords, have privately expressed concern about the humanitarian situation’s impact on regional stability. During economic forums in Dubai last week, Emirati investors discussed postponing joint projects with Israeli firms until the Gaza crisis shows meaningful improvement.
Military analysts watching the situation note another dimension: the operational consequences of extreme civilian deprivation. “History shows that starving populations rarely surrender – instead, desperation strengthens extremist narratives,” explained Colonel Richard Kemp, former British forces commander, at a security conference I attended in London. “Israel’s tactical gains may produce strategic losses if humanitarian conditions aren’t addressed.”
The Biden administration faces its own dilemma. Congressional approval of military aid continues despite growing evidence that American-supplied weapons are being used in operations restricting humanitarian access. Several congressional Democrats have begun drafting legislation to condition future transfers on verified improvements in aid delivery.
Netanyahu’s upcoming visit to Washington will likely focus on Iran and post-war governance plans for Gaza, but administration officials tell me the humanitarian crisis will dominate private discussions. Secretary Blinken’s team has prepared detailed proposals for expanded crossing operations that don’t compromise Israeli security concerns.
What happens next depends largely on Netanyahu’s political calculus. With his governing coalition reliant on far-right parties and corruption trials looming if he leaves office, humanitarian concerns may remain secondary to political survival.
Meanwhile, in Gaza’s overcrowded shelters and makeshift clinics, such political considerations mean little. “We’re reduced to treating crushing injuries with expired painkillers and no anesthesia,” Dr. Mahmoud Shalabi told me by phone from a field hospital in central Gaza. “The political discussion about aid feels divorced from the reality that children are dying while trucks sit full just kilometers away.”
As pressure mounts from allies and international bodies, the coming weeks will test whether Israel’s strategic relationships can withstand policies increasingly condemned as violations of humanitarian law. The humanitarian catastrophe unfolding in Gaza has moved beyond a regional crisis to become a defining moment for the rules-based international order itself.
