When the United Nations officially declared on Friday that Gaza had entered a state of famine, it was not a matter of dry statistics or bureaucratic procedure.
It was a dramatic international recognition that the war-torn, besieged coastal enclave, home to over 2.2 million people, has become uninhabitable.
For Palestinians, the announcement was both a validation of their lived reality and a chilling reminder of how far the crisis has spiralled. For Israel and the broader international community, it introduced new political and legal consequences that can no longer be ignored.
The report, jointly issued by the Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO), UNICEF, the World Food Programme (WFP), and the World Health Organisation (WHO), confirmed that Gaza now meets all three technical criteria for famine: extreme food deprivation, soaring rates of malnutrition, and hunger-related deaths.
It is the first famine declaration in the Middle East’s modern history.
'One meal a day': Voices from the ground
On a recent morning in Gaza City's al-Shati refugee camp, a long queue stretched outside an aid distribution centre. Families clutched empty bags and plastic containers, waiting in the suffocating heat for a chance to receive flour, oil, or beans. Many would leave empty-handed.
Among them stood Ahmed al-Kahlout, a 38-year-old construction worker who has been out of work for months. His thin frame and hollow cheeks bore witness to the slow erosion of his body.
"I've been eating just one meal a day for more than three months. Whatever food we find, I give it to my four children. I’m dizzy most of the time, I’ve lost almost 15 kilograms, but what scares me most is seeing one of my children faint from hunger in front of me. That would break me completely," he told The New Arab.
Across town, in the battered neighbourhood of Sheikh Radwan, Nawal al-Saqa, a widow in her forties, sat at the entrance of her partially destroyed home, kneading contaminated flour she had received weeks earlier. She baked it into hard, bitter bread for her three children.
"We've been eating only bread for months, sometimes with salt if we can find it," she lamented to TNA.
"My youngest, Sami, is so thin now that I feel his bones when I hold him. When the UN says famine, I don't need a report to understand it. I see it every day in his eyes and in the faces of our neighbours' children," she said.
At al-Quds Hospital in Gaza City, where fuel shortages have crippled medical services, paediatrician Dr Omar Abdeen described scenes that he once thought belonged to history books, not modern Gaza.
"Every day, dozens of children arrive with severe malnutrition, dehydration, and anaemia," he told TNA. "We don't have medical infant formula or therapeutic foods. We are watching children die from hunger, something none of us imagined we would see on this scale."
Numbers that tell a story of collapse
The UN's report quantifies this humanitarian disaster. More than half a million people in Gaza are already in famine conditions. By September, that number is projected to rise to 640,000. A further 1.14 million are in a state of nutritional emergency, while another 400,000 hover on the brink.
According to the report, children have been hit hardest, with over 12,000 cases of severe malnutrition registered in July alone, six times the figure recorded in January.
The Ministry of Health in Gaza confirmed that at least 289 people, including 115 children, have already died from starvation or related illnesses.
These figures represent not just statistics, but human lives extinguished in a slow, preventable death.
The famine is not the result of drought, crop failure, or mismanagement. Instead, it is directly tied to the Israeli blockade imposed on Gaza since 7 October 2023, after Hamas's attacks, and further tightened in March 2024 following the collapse of a short-lived ceasefire.
That closure sealed Gaza's crossings, choking off the entry of food, medicine, and fuel. Agriculture collapsed under bombardment and a lack of water, while fishing, once a vital source of protein, was rendered impossible by naval restrictions. Food prices skyrocketed far beyond what most families could afford.
In tandem, Israeli airstrikes and military incursions displaced nearly two million people, crowding them into makeshift tents and shelters where disease and hunger feed off each other.
The consequences are devastating: hospitals unable to refrigerate medicine, bakeries without flour or fuel, and families torn between staying in rubble or moving to overcrowded camps with no guarantees of aid.
Famine as a political verdict
For Palestinian political analyst Esmat Mansour, the UN's famine declaration carries weight far beyond the humanitarian realm.
"This is not just humanitarian language. The United Nations does not use the word 'famine' casually. It follows strict criteria: the number of deaths, malnutrition rates, and food insecurity levels. Reaching this threshold means the situation is utterly out of control and that international responsibility can no longer be delayed," he told TNA.
Mansour believes the declaration could reshape the politics of ceasefire negotiations. "Any talk of truce or future arrangements will now have to put humanitarian aid at the centre. You can't discuss military or security guarantees while children are dying from hunger," he said.
He added that the report intensifies legal and moral pressure on Israel's allies. "Western governments that continue to justify Israel's military operations must now explain how they support a party accused by the UN of causing famine. This accusation is rare in modern history, with notable examples including Somalia and Ethiopia in the 1980s, and now Gaza. It puts Israel in a category that the world cannot ignore," he added.
From a legal perspective, Mansour noted, the famine declaration strengthens potential cases against Israel at the International Criminal Court.
"International law considers starvation of civilians as an unlawful method of warfare, even a war crime. The declaration gives prosecutors and human rights organisations new tools to pursue accountability," he explained.
A dangerous loophole
Yet not all analysts view the UN's decision as unequivocally positive.
Tayseer Abdullah, a Gaza-based political researcher, voiced concern that the report declared famine only in Gaza City and the north, leaving out southern areas such as Khan Younis or Deir al-Balah.
"This creates a dangerous loophole," Abdullah argued. "By limiting famine to Gaza City, the UN indirectly makes it easier for Israel to push people south and claim it is moving them out of famine areas. If the north becomes empty, the accusation of famine disappears, because famine is tied to residents’ presence."
Speaking to TNA, he warned that such framing could actually serve Israeli military objectives, including rumoured plans for a new offensive codenamed 'Gideon 2'.
"Israel can argue it is relocating civilians from a famine zone to a safer place, even if the south is already collapsing. The UN report, as it stands, could be manipulated politically," he said.
Abdullah also questioned the timing. "If the UN wanted to highlight the scale of the catastrophe, it should have declared famine across the whole strip. Limiting it to the north risks diluting the pressure. I fear the report, instead of confronting the occupation, may end up legitimising its strategy," he said.
Between reports and reality
In displacement camps scattered across the south, scepticism toward the declaration is common.
Fatima al-Habil, a mother of five who fled Gaza City months ago and now lives in a tent in Khan Younis, dismissed the announcement as little more than words.
"For months, we've been living on one meal a day, mostly boiled lentils if we get them," she said. "I don't understand what the UN's declaration means for us. It may matter to politicians, but my children are still starving. Reports don't fill empty stomachs."
Her words reflect a broader disillusionment: that the famine declaration, while historic, may change little unless translated into concrete action, sustained aid deliveries, open crossings, and above all, an end to the war and blockade.
Regional and international reverberations
The declaration is already reverberating beyond Gaza's borders.
Arab governments that once kept a cautious distance from the conflict now face mounting pressure to act, both politically and with relief assistance. Mediators like Egypt and Qatar, long involved in ceasefire talks, may find their demands for unfettered aid flows bolstered by the UN’s terminology.
Meanwhile, Western capitals are under scrutiny. Human rights groups across Europe and North America have seized on the famine label to intensify campaigns against arms sales and political cover for Israel.
The language of famine could prove a turning point in public opinion, as it did during past crises in Africa and Yemen.
For Israel, the declaration is diplomatically damaging. Officials in Tel Aviv have long sought to frame the war in Gaza as a battle against Hamas. The famine designation, however, recasts it as a collective punishment of civilians, raising accusations of war crimes and even genocide.
The famine declaration in Gaza sets a precedent in the Middle East and adds a new dimension to the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.
Analysts like Mansour see it as a political and legal condemnation of Israel that could alter the trajectory of negotiations and accountability. Others, like Abdullah, warn it may be weaponised to justify further displacement.
For civilians, the difference is starker. They wonder whether the world's solemn declarations will ever translate into full stomachs, open crossings, and an end to the blockade.
The question that lingers, echoing through Gaza's devastated streets and crowded camps, is whether this declaration will be remembered as a turning point or merely another entry in a long list of unheeded warnings while an entire population starves in plain sight.
Sally Ibrahim is a Palestinian reporter with The New Arab based in the Gaza Strip