How a New Israeli Policy Cuts Off Humanitarian Aid in Gaza

Amichai Chikli, the right-wing Minister for Diaspora Affairs and Combating Antisemitism, has used such cases to argue that “much of the activity of so-called humanitarian organizations serves as a cover for hostile and sometimes violent actions.” When M.S.F. ultimately refused to share a list of its employees, he said, “We are aware that MSF employs individuals who are active in terrorist organizations, which is why it hides its employee lists.” (He also said that Rahma Worldwide, an organization that I volunteered for in Gaza, was going to be designated a “terrorist consortium.”)

Humanitarian organizations have sharply challenged these claims. Alan Moseley, a country director for the Danish Refugee Council (D.R.C.), another barred N.G.O., said that organizations like theirs have experience insuring that staff members remain neutral. “We work in conflict zones around the world where it’s very common to be faced with armed groups present,” Moseley told me. “Of course we don’t want Hamas fighters on our staff.” Mohammed Abu Mughaiseeb, a physician and an M.S.F. medical adviser, told me that the organization has employed thousands of people in Gaza, and that no one else has been proved to have participated in military activity. All M.S.F. staff go through a comprehensive vetting process, he added. By limiting humanitarian access to Gaza, Abu Mughaiseeb said, Israel was “punishing the population, not Hamas.”

Many N.G.O.s have raised concerns that lists of their employees could be used to target their Palestinian staffers. More than five hundred aid workers, including fifteen M.S.F. employees, have been killed in Gaza since October 7, 2023. (The Israeli military has said that it does not target medical personnel.) Filipe Ribeiro, a head of mission for the organization, told me that M.S.F. asked for safety assurances from a committee headed by the Ministry of Diaspora Affairs. “We asked repeatedly, ‘What will you do with this list? How can we be sure it won’t be used to harm our staff?’ ” he told me. “We never received an answer.” (When approached for comment, the Ministry of Diaspora Affairs said that it would not be able to meet The New Yorker’s deadline.) Shaina Low, a communication adviser for the Norwegian Refugee Council, said that a strict E.U. data-privacy law barred organizations from sharing employee information. “We’ve gotten opinions from authorities in the E.U.,” she told me. “They have said, yes, handing over these employee lists could violate the law.”

Not long after N.G.O.s received notice that they would be expelled from Gaza, the U.N. released a statement urging Israel to reconsider. “Humanitarian access is not optional, conditional or political,” it said. “It is a legal obligation under international humanitarian law.” Eighteen Israeli N.G.O.s described the new registration framework as a “weaponization of bureaucracy.” In early January, fifty-three international humanitarian groups called on Israel to halt the expulsion process, noting that N.G.O.s run or support sixty per cent of all field hospitals in Gaza and furnish the majority of shelter aid. Ribeiro told me that M.S.F. is one of the only organizations providing Gazans with orthopedic surgery, reconstructive surgery, and burn care. “It’s another catastrophe for the people of Gaza,” Mughaiseeb said. Finally, in February, Ben-Hillel filed a suit in Israel’s Supreme Court on behalf of numerous humanitarian organizations, including M.S.F., the D.R.C., and the N.R.C. He cited an opinion by the International Court of Justice asserting that, under the Geneva Conventions, Israel had an unconditional obligation to facilitate the “rapid and unimpeded” delivery of aid, security concerns notwithstanding. He also told the court that, under the Oslo Accords of 1993, the Palestinian Authority—not Israel—had jurisdiction over these N.G.O.s. The court recommended that the petition be dismissed, and that the organizations be given one month to submit the employee lists. A final decision is pending.

Although discussions of the new N.G.O. requirements have focussed on security, concerns about militants occupy only a small part of the Ministry of Diaspora Affairs’ written guidelines. Organizations can also be barred for promoting what the agency calls delegitimization campaigns against Israel; for denying the existence of Israel as a democratic state; or for employing an officeholder who has called for a boycott of Israel. I asked Gerald Steinberg, the founder of an Israeli group called NGO Monitor, what would justify barring humanitarian groups from providing services. He responded by citing the politics of N.G.O.s: “These are very powerful organizations, and their political agendas have major influence.” As an example, he cited an M.S.F. social-media campaign that characterized the war in Gaza as a genocide. “They are not the altruistic, neutral organizations that they claim to be,” he said. N.G.O. workers considered these arguments chilling. Hulse pointed out that M.S.F.’s mission includes témoignage, or testimony—bearing witness to human suffering. “In a conflict where the balance of power is so unequal, the number of civilian casualties is so huge, just talking about what is happening can make it seem as though you’re not being neutral,” she told me. Low, at the Norwegian Refugee Council, was more direct. “This is about silencing organizations that are documenting human-rights violations,” she said.