After two years of genocide, Gaza's universities gradually resume in-person classes

Mohammed Hassan, a medical student, stood at the entrance of Gaza's Al-Azhar University with his dental tools wrapped in a small plastic bag, staring at a campus he could barely recognise any more.

Two years earlier, he had rushed through these same gates with friends, joking about exams and clinical sessions. Now, much of the building had been reduced by Israeli attacks to cracked pillars and broken windows, with dust still settling on the remnants of the dental labs he once trained in.

"When I stepped inside, I felt something between grief and victory. I studied from tents and shelters all this time. Just standing here again made me feel that a small part of my life survived," he told The New Arab.

For Hassan and countless other Palestinian students, this isn't simply about a reopening of a university; rather, it is the slow, fragile rebirth of an entire academic community that Israel's war sought to erase.

A return rooted in emotion, identity, and defiance

Over the course of Israel's two-year genocidal war on Gaza, Palestinian university students experienced one of the longest interruptions in higher education since the establishment of their institutions.

The Israeli war flattened lecture halls, collapsed libraries, destroyed laboratories, paralysed electricity networks, and displaced nearly all faculty and staff.

Students scattered into tents, shelters, and overcrowded homes, attending online classes on unstable networks, if they had devices at all.

Today, despite the devastation surrounding them, two of Gaza's largest universities, Al-Azhar University and the Islamic University, are taking cautious but determined steps toward in-person learning.

"When I walked into the dental lab, even though half the equipment was missing, I felt I was getting closer to my dream again," Hassan said, adding that "opportunities are limited, but giving up would be far worse."

Medical student Nour al-Hatu was equally overwhelmed. "After two years of displacement, I didn't imagine I would return to my classroom," she remarked to TNA.

"The lecture hall has no proper equipment, but just wearing my stethoscope inside the university made me feel like life was coming back," she said.

For Al-Azhar University's Vice President, Mohamed Shubair, reopening the campus was not just a logistical decision but a national one.

"We started with a political and national vision […] Our goal was to fulfil the students' dream of returning to in-person classes, even with the smallest resources," he told TNA.

Al-Azhar began with the faculties of Medicine and Dentistry, where practical training is essential. Inside partially restored labs, some without doors, others held together with makeshift repairs, students perform simulations and limited clinical exercises.

The university has allowed around 1,000 students to return physically. Meanwhile, more than 12,000 others continue classes online, relying on the Moodle platform despite unstable internet and constant power outages, according to Shubair.

"We barely have desks or whiteboards […] Before the war, we had over 300 academic staff. Today, in the practical faculties, we have only ten lecturers in dentistry and five assistants in medicine," Shubair said.

He emphasises that the university refuses to be entangled in political disputes. "We distance ourselves from all conflicts. Our mission now is life and education. Rebuilding will come through Arab support and international volunteers."

But even in ruins, Al-Azhar witnessed an unexpected phenomenon: a dramatic rise in postwar enrolment. "We were shocked. More students registered than before the war. This shows that young people are searching for hope despite everything," he added. "Education is part of our revival […] It's a message to the world that we are still here."

A short distance away, the Islamic University is experiencing a similar resurrection, though its destruction was even more severe.

Most of the buildings were flattened entirely, while a few now house displaced families who lost their homes in the war. Still, the university initiated its return weeks earlier, determined not to let its academic legacy fade.

Inside a building repaired just enough to stand, medical students sit in tightly packed rooms where shrapnel scars line the walls. A single generator provides weak lighting. Yet despite the harsh conditions, spirits are high.

"This is our first time back since the war. Education is not a luxury for us, it's our only lifeline," Salma Mohammed, a medical student, told TNA.

She described the experience as "a mix of joy and shock," saying that returning in person "means the university is rising again."

Administrative staff say that during the war, around 4,000 students graduated through online learning. Thousands more are still waiting to complete their degrees in person after two years.

Other universities still rely on online education

While Al-Azhar and the Islamic University move forward, other institutions are far from reopening to students.

Universities such as Al-Aqsa University and the University College of Applied Sciences, as well as several campuses in southern Gaza, continue to rely entirely on online education. Destroyed buildings, unsafe roads, power outages, and the loss of academic staff have made in-person teaching nearly impossible.

Many students attend classes from tents or shelters, sharing devices between family members. Power often cuts off mid-lecture. Some students record lessons so they can listen later when electricity briefly returns.

Faculty members say the challenges are overwhelming. Some professors were killed, others displaced, and many forced to flee. "We would return in a second," one lecturer says, "but the buildings are gone."

According to Shireen al-Dhani, a faculty member at Al-Azhar's College of Arts and Humanities, universities have taken on roles far beyond academics. "From the first days of the war, we launched online learning voluntarily. Faculty inside and outside Gaza helped us. Our goal was continuity; the occupation wanted to break that continuity," she told TNA.

Staff have been meeting students in person whenever conditions allowed, helping them choose majors, providing guidance, and offering psychological support.

During the toughest periods of the war, the university formed internal support networks for employees, especially families of martyred staff. They offered emergency aid, counselling, and free community services.

"We know how difficult the financial situation is, so we apply only proportional fees. We try to ease the burden on students as much as possible," al-Dhani said.

The Government Media Office in Gaza estimates that 165 educational institutions were fully destroyed and 392 partially damaged. Nearly 300,000 people still require temporary housing, turning campus surroundings into crowded shelters.

Experts argue that reopening universities, even partially, is essential to prevent the collapse of Gaza's intellectual and cultural life. As Shubair puts it, "Education is the only battle Gaza must win after all this devastation."

But he acknowledges that survival depends on Arab and international support. With resources nearly depleted, even Al-Azhar and the Islamic University face uncertainty.