A Runaway Chariot To Hell
The "Gideon's Chariots" operation has started in Gaza. Its stated aim is to destroy Hamas. But it may destroy everything else first.
Israel’s “Gideon’s Chariots” plan, was approved on May 4, 2025. It is a plan to take over the entire Gaza Strip and relocate the population into a small part of the south of the enclave. It forces a grim question: Is this a military campaign aimed at defeating Hamas, or is it merely a genocidal assault on the people of Gaza?
From Raids to ‘Clear and Hold’: The New Doctrine in Gaza
Previous phases of the war saw the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) conduct rapid, raid-style incursions and then withdraw. “Gideon’s Chariots” marks a strategic shift. It calls for three divisions to seize and hold territory throughout Gaza, supported by tens of thousands of reservists. IDF Chief of Staff Eyal Zamir has described this as “Phase B”—a sustained campaign to dismantle Hamas’s remaining military and governmental capacity.
Where earlier efforts would clear an area only to see Hamas re-infiltrate, the new doctrine means captured territory will remain under indefinite Israeli military occupation. This is made possible in part by a holding truce with Hezbollah in Lebanon. That has freed up Israeli manpower for Gaza.
A controversial and central feature is the mass evacuation of civilians from active combat zones. Including from the so-called “humanitarian zone” west of Khan Yunis, which has been frequently bombed by Israel, to newly designated zones in the deep south, south of the Morag corridor. The stated aim is to separate noncombatants from Hamas fighters, allowing for more aggressive military action and to prevent Hamas from exploiting humanitarian aid. Only after this displacement will a new aid distribution system—managed by civilian contractors, not the IDF—be put into place, with strict entry screening to prevent Hamas infiltration.
Meanwhile, Israel is constructing a multi-layered fortification along the Gaza border: concrete walls, sensor fences, and enhanced underground barriers. A kilometer-deep buffer zone now runs the length of the border, designed to block attacks and serve as a future launch point for IDF raids, echoing the West Bank security model.
But there is far more to this plan than military goals.
The Logic of Permanent Occupation
The plan is not just military but political: officials, including Defense Minister Israel Katz and Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich, have described it as the “final stage” of the war and the beginning of an indefinite occupation. Katz has stated explicitly that the IDF will “act with great force” and stay “in every area that is taken,” evacuating Gaza’s entire population southward during the operation. Katz insists the campaign will last “until all war goals for Gaza, including the defeat of Hamas and securing the release of every hostage, are achieved.” The intent is clear: no withdrawals, no partial measures, and no exchange of territory for hostages.
Prime Minister Netanyahu has echoed these views, promising that reserve forces will remain in captured areas and that Israel “will not give up on anyone.” Unlike previous offensives, the plan is to remain in Gaza, transforming cleared areas into what officials call “sanitised” security belts.
This blueprint amounts to a strategy of permanent occupation, mass displacement, and collective punishment. The “Rafah model”—total destruction of neighborhoods, then repurposing as Israeli-controlled zones—is to be replicated on a broad scale. The language of “sanitisation” and “security belts” is, for many, a euphemism for annexation and ethnic cleansing.
Forced Displacement and the Weaponization of Aid
A central pillar of “Gideon’s Chariots” is the mass removal of Palestinians from northern Gaza—an effort that echoes and expands upon the controversial Trump plan’s call to “clean out” Gaza by forcibly relocating its population. Israeli officials present this as “voluntary relocation,” but the scale, coercion, and lack of viable alternatives amount to forced displacement, a violation of international law without guarantees of safe return or adequate protection.
Reports indicate that Israel is actively seeking third countries willing to accept displaced Gazans, including far-flung and largely unprepared places like Somaliland. This attempt to export Gaza’s population underscores the operation’s ethnic cleansing dimensions—aiming not just to control Gaza militarily, but to permanently alter its demographic makeup by pushing Palestinians out of their homeland.
Displaced Palestinians are to be confined to tightly controlled “humanitarian zones” in southern Gaza, under strict Israeli surveillance. Humanitarian aid—already restricted to starvation levels—will only resume after displacement, and then only in limited, militarily controlled areas through contractors approved by Israel. Aid thus becomes a weaponized tool of coercion and collective punishment.
Human rights organizations, including Amnesty International and the UN, have condemned this strategy as “a genocidal act, a blatant form of unlawful collective punishment, and the war crime of using starvation of civilians as a method of warfare.” The forced displacement combined with efforts to resettle Gazans in far-off, unsuitable locations highlights a disturbing pattern: Israel’s drive to reshape Gaza’s population through systematic uprooting and demographic engineering.
The Humanitarian Catastrophe: Care as Control
Since the resumption of Israel’s offensive, the humanitarian crisis in Gaza has deepened to catastrophic levels. More than 52,000 Palestinians have been killed and over 118,000 wounded, with the overwhelming majority being women, children, and elderly civilians. Basic necessities are vanishing: malnutrition rates among young children and nursing mothers have soared, with 92% failing to receive adequate nourishment. Access to clean drinking water is dangerously limited for 65% of the population, compounding the risk of disease and death.
Under Operation Gideon’s Chariots, the vast majority of Gaza’s nearly two million residents will be forcibly confined to a small southern zone, a cramped area south of the Morag corridor. This geographic compression dramatically increases the vulnerability of the population, intensifying overcrowding, sanitation challenges, and exposure to ongoing military operations.
Israel’s plan for “caring” for this population is tightly bound to its military and security objectives. Humanitarian aid deliveries will be strictly controlled and limited to just enough to prevent outright starvation—far below previous levels. Official estimates allow only about 60 trucks of food per day into Gaza, roughly one-tenth of the volume permitted during the temporary ceasefire periods before the blockade intensified. Aid will no longer flow freely across the territory but will be concentrated in a handful of secured “humanitarian zones,” primarily near Rafah, under strict Israeli military oversight.
Aid distribution will not be handled directly by Israeli forces but delegated to private civilian contractors vetted and approved by the military. This arrangement is designed to maintain a veneer of neutrality while ensuring that all aid distribution aligns with Israeli security concerns. Families will receive supplies through a single designated representative who must come to distribution centers once a week, receiving only a ration measured precisely to sustain the household without excess.
This centralized, rationed aid system functions not only as a means of survival for Gaza’s civilians but also as a powerful tool of population control and political leverage. By regulating who gets what and when, the Israeli military can exert immense pressure on the population, discouraging resistance and incentivizing compliance with relocation orders and other military directives.
Furthermore, strict security screening at aid centers aims to prevent Hamas militants from infiltrating the distribution process or siphoning off resources. Yet this also means ordinary Gazans are subjected to constant surveillance and restrictions on their movement, deepening their sense of captivity and dependence.
Multiple humanitarian organizations—including the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) and Amnesty International—have condemned this system as a form of collective punishment. They argue that weaponizing aid in this way violates international humanitarian law and human rights norms. The blockade combined with the controlled, minimal aid consigns millions to a precarious existence, hovering on the edge of famine and disease.
In essence, Israel’s approach to “caring” for Gaza’s population under Gideon’s Chariots is inseparable from its strategy of domination and control. Aid becomes both lifeline and leash, a calibrated mechanism to sustain life just enough to prevent collapse while maintaining overwhelming leverage over the civilian population.
The Egyptian Proposal: A Viable Alternative Ignored
While Israel advances its sweeping military plan, a fundamentally different approach has been put forward by Egypt and endorsed by the Arab League and much of the international community. The Egyptian proposal calls for an immediate ceasefire, the comprehensive release of all hostages, and the establishment of a Palestinian technocratic administration in Gaza operating under regional and international oversight.
This alternative envisions a security architecture involving Palestinian and Arab forces—such as those from Egypt and the UAE—maintaining public order and preventing Hamas from rearming. It also includes a framework for reconstruction funded by Arab states and international donors, aimed at stabilizing Gaza’s devastated infrastructure and economy. Importantly, it offers Israel security guarantees allowing targeted operations against terror threats while avoiding the devastating consequences of a full-scale occupation.
Despite its potential to halt the bloodshed, promote regional stability, and open the door to renewed diplomatic progress—including expanding the Abraham Accords and improving relations with Saudi Arabia—Israel has repeatedly rejected the Egyptian plan. The refusal appears rooted primarily in political considerations: a desire to achieve complete military victory over Hamas, maintain maximal territorial and security control, and avoid empowering the Palestinian Authority or regional actors who might dilute Israeli influence.
This political calculation overlooks the considerable risks inherent in Israel’s chosen path: prolonged occupation, international isolation, legal jeopardy, and deepening humanitarian catastrophe. The Egyptian proposal, by contrast, offers a pragmatic compromise that could save lives, preserve regional alliances, and foster a more sustainable security environment.
Israel’s rejection of this alternative is not due to its lack of viability but reflects a strategic choice to prioritize military maximalism and political dominance over diplomacy and regional cooperation—at enormous cost to Palestinians, Israelis, and the prospects for peace.
The Hostage Crisis: Risk, Anxiety, and a Nation’s Yearning for Resolution
At the heart of the conflict lies a human tragedy: dozens of Israelis remain held hostage by Hamas, their fate a constant source of anguish for families and the nation. Operation Gideon’s Chariots explicitly aims to secure the release of these captives, yet the military strategy it pursues risks jeopardizing that very goal.
The IDF’s planned full-scale incursions and prolonged occupation increase the danger that hostages could be caught in crossfire, killed by Israeli strikes, or abandoned by their captors amid the chaos of combat. Even senior Israeli military officials have publicly warned that a large-scale ground operation might result in losing the hostages entirely. This raises a painful dilemma: the pursuit of military victory may come at the cost of the captives’ lives.
Families of the hostages live in constant fear and uncertainty. Many feel that the government’s focus on territorial and military objectives sidelines the paramount importance of safely bringing their loved ones home. Statements from family members and support groups express deep frustration and heartbreak, viewing the operation as a gamble with human lives that risks sacrificing the hostages for political and military aims.
For the broader Israeli public, the overwhelming majority yearn for an end to the war and the safe return of the hostages. Polls consistently show strong support for a ceasefire or negotiated resolution centered on releasing captives, even if it requires compromises. The protracted conflict, mounting casualties, and humanitarian toll weigh heavily on the national psyche, fostering a widespread desire to see the war end promptly and the hostages freed.
This collective hope contrasts sharply with the government’s current trajectory, underscoring the tension between military strategy and human cost that defines Israel’s most urgent challenge in Gaza.
How Gideon’s Chariots Contrasts with Trump’s Vision for the Middle East
Operation Gideon’s Chariots marks a stark departure from the new Middle East framework championed by former U.S. President Donald Trump and supported by key Gulf States such as Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and Qatar. Trump’s vision emphasized regional cooperation, economic integration, and diplomatic normalization between Israel and Arab nations, aiming to shift focus away from protracted conflicts toward mutual strategic interests and stability.
The Egyptian ceasefire proposal, embraced by many Gulf countries and aligned with Trump’s approach, seeks to end hostilities in Gaza, secure the release of hostages, and establish a technocratic Palestinian administration under regional and international auspices. It represents a pragmatic pathway toward peace and regional partnership, prioritizing reconstruction, security cooperation, and political dialogue.
In sharp contrast, Israel’s decision to launch a large-scale, open-ended military operation signals a rejection of this diplomatic momentum. Gideon’s Chariots’ focus on permanent occupation, mass displacement, and extensive military control threatens to unravel fragile regional ties. It risks alienating Gulf partners who have invested in normalization efforts and who view prolonged conflict and humanitarian crises in Gaza as destabilizing factors.
As a result, Israel risks becoming an isolated pariah state, facing growing condemnation from Arab governments and international actors alike. The operation contradicts the cooperative spirit of the Abraham Accords and undermines the potential for broader peace initiatives. Instead of expanding alliances, it deepens divisions, fuels anti-Israel sentiment, and empowers extremist groups opposed to normalization.
In essence, Gideon’s Chariots threatens to reverse years of diplomatic progress, casting Israel out of the circle of regional cooperation and pushing the Middle East back toward entrenched conflict and instability.
What is In A Name
We can get a clue as to what this operation is designed for from the name. The name “Gideon’s Chariots” summons a powerful biblical narrative deeply embedded in Israeli cultural and religious consciousness—the story of Gideon, a judge and warrior who, according to the Book of Judges, led a small band of Israelites to annihilate the Midianites, an ancient nomadic people often regarded as ancestors of modern Arab populations. This reference is not accidental; it evokes themes of divine mandate, righteous conquest, and total destruction of an enemy deemed existentially threatening.
By invoking Gideon, the operation aligns itself with a narrative of holy war—portraying the fight not merely as a political or military struggle but as a continuation of a sacred historical mission. This framing serves to sanctify the use of overwhelming force and legitimizes extreme measures as necessary acts of survival and divine justice. The addition of “Chariots” (Merkavot in Hebrew) layers the symbolism further: it calls to mind both the ancient instruments of war and the modern Merkava tanks, Israel’s heavily armored main battle tanks that have become symbols of military might and dominance in Gaza and the West Bank.
This fusion of ancient myth and modern mechanized warfare creates a potent ideological cocktail. It transforms the operation into a narrative of epic struggle, where the enemy is not just a political adversary but a historic foe to be utterly defeated. Such symbolism can powerfully mobilize public support but also hardens attitudes, making compromise or empathy more difficult.
Inside government circles, this symbolism bleeds into rhetoric that is at times chillingly callous. Reportedly, when a minister suggested naming the operation “Let me die with the Philistines”—a biblical allusion to Gaza’s ancient inhabitants and, by extension, Palestinians—Prime Minister Netanyahu rejected it with the starkly brutal rejoinder, “No. We don’t want to die with them. We want them to die alone.” This grim exchange, blending dark humor with genocidal undertones, reveals a mindset in which state violence is not just a tool of policy but a form of historical reckoning.
Such rhetoric suggests that the operation is conceived not merely as a contest of arms but as an existential purge, where the survival of one people is bound up with the destruction or removal of another. It normalizes and even glorifies collective suffering inflicted in the name of survival and retribution.
This mindset, cloaked in the language of divine justice and historic destiny, shapes the operation’s conduct and its reception at home and abroad. It underpins a strategy that sees the conflict as zero-sum, leaving little room for dialogue or reconciliation. The invocation of biblical warfare signals a return to a primordial logic of conflict, where mercy is scarce and victory demands total domination.
Understanding this symbolic and rhetorical framework is crucial for grasping the full implications of Gideon’s Chariots—not just as a military campaign but as a cultural and ideological project that mobilizes history, religion, and identity in the service of war.
Final Thoughts
The “Gideon’s Chariots” operation is a high-stakes gamble that embraces maximalism at a tremendous cost. It seeks not just to defeat Hamas but to permanently alter Gaza’s demographic and political landscape through occupation, displacement, and control. Yet in doing so, it starkly breaks from the diplomatic momentum fostered by the new Middle East vision championed by Trump and supported by Gulf states—a vision premised on cooperation, normalization, and regional stability.
By rejecting pragmatic ceasefire proposals and doubling down on military maximalism, Israel risks alienating key Arab partners and unraveling years of delicate diplomatic progress. Instead of expanding alliances and building peace, this strategy deepens Israel’s isolation, fuels regional resentment, and empowers extremist forces opposed to normalization. Far from securing safety, it may cast Israel into the role of a pariah state, increasingly cut off from its neighbors and the international community.
The price of this maximalist course will be paid in shattered lives, enduring conflict, and lost opportunities for peace. By the time it is done, there may be no Gaza to save and Israel may have no soul to salvage.