ZAMBOANGA CITY (MindaNews / 20 April) — The child was no more than two years old, the social media post of Jad Idah, a content creator from the Philippines, indicated. The video showed a boy crying for his mother as two soldiers armed with long firearms, identified in the post as members of the Israeli Occupation Forces in Gaza, held him fast. His face was barely visible, his steps unsteady as his weight hung from the soldier’s grip. Fear was in his voice, a babble of beginnings, the only words I understood as the men spoke in a foreign tongue. A man, presumably Palestinian, lunged forward, desperate to pry the boy free, but the steel of occupation was stronger than his arms. Another witness captured the moment, sending it into the endless scroll of social media where millions would watch, rage, and weep. Yet nothing would change.
This morning, I held my coffee cup with that scene biting my conscience like the bitter taste of coffee. I refuse to accept that such ruthlessness is normal, nor is it an aberration. It is the distilled essence of a reality that has stretched on for nearly two years: the aggression of Israel against the Palestinian people, unchecked, unpunished, unstoppable. The world watches, the world condemns, but the world does not act decisively.
Palestine as a Mirror
Since October 2023, more than 72,000 Palestinians have been killed, including over 21,000 children, according to the Gaza Health Ministry. The same reports note over 172,000 injured, with tens of thousands of amputees; Children who will never run again, mothers who will never hold their babies without pain.
Journalists, academics, and aid workers have not been spared. The Committee to Protect Journalists calls Gaza the deadliest conflict for media workers in modern history, with more than 260 journalists killed. Palestinian academic networks report at least 120 scholars and educators killed. The United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) confirms the deaths of 391 of its staff, part of a broader toll of over 560 humanitarian workers killed. This number of casualties is the highest in UN history.
Meanwhile, rights groups such as Addameer Prisoner Support and Human Rights Association, a Palestinian NGO, and Human Rights Watch estimate that nearly 10,000 Palestinians are held in Israeli prisons, with about one‑third under administrative detention without charge or trial.
These are not just numbers. They are the measure of a people under siege, and they are the mirror of our failure. Every figure is a story: a mother buried under rubble, a child carried to surgery without anesthesia, a father waiting behind bars for a trial that will never come.
These stories are not only about Gaza. They reveal the collapse of a system that claims to protect humanity but seemingly was built to protect states.
Why the World is Failing
The world fails because the system was never built to succeed for the weak. After World War I, the League of Nations rose with promises of collective security, but it was hollow. After World War II, the United Nations replaced it, carrying the banner of “never again.” Yet its foundation was laid not on justice, but on privilege. The victors carved out permanent seats and veto power, ensuring they would never be bound by rules they did not choose. It was a system designed to prevent war among the powerful, not to protect the powerless from them.
That is why geopolitics outweighs humanity. That is why international law collapses. That is why protests fail. The deeper truth is this: the world fails not because it does not know, but because it was built to fail. The institutions born from humanity’s darkest hours were designed to protect states, not people. And so, Palestine burns while the world watches.
Yet even in this failure, I know that seeds of peace are being planted elsewhere, as peacebuilders continue to pave paths to reconciliation.
Toward a Culture of Peace
Resisting this morning’s despair, I clutch at straws of hope. I think of my birth province, Basilan. Though far from Gaza, here on this island in the southern Philippines another struggle unfolds, not against foreign occupation, but against clan feuds, locally called pagbanta. For generations, these disputes tore families apart, weakened governance, and stalled progress. Violence became cyclical, passed down like inheritance.
But in December 2025, Governor Mujiv Hataman and the Provincial Government declared a vision: a Pagbanta‑Free Basilan. Elders, imams, and faith leaders gathered, guided by the Qur’an’s command: “And make peace between yourselves, for indeed Allah is Most Merciful to those who believe” (Qur’an 49:10). Mediators trained in Shariah‑inspired reconciliation helped bridge divides. And slowly, after hours of testimony, tears, and appeals to brotherhood, a seventeen‑year feud ended in an amicable settlement. Families clasped hands, shared meals, and chose peace over vengeance.
This was not a treaty signed in marble halls, but a peace born in community, sanctified by faith. Basilan shows another path: Peace Governance rooted in culture, faith, and community. It demonstrates that reconciliation can be institutionalized, that conflict resolution can be systematic, and that peace can be sustained when it is treated as collective responsibility.
Closing Thought
If Gaza is the mirror of failure, Basilan is the seed of hope. The toddler seized in Gaza, the amputee child, the imprisoned father, they are victims not only of war but of a world order built to protect power, not people. Basilan’s vision of a Pagbanta‑Free Province is more than a local success; it may be a global lesson.
This morning, I am more convinced than ever that the world must shift from a culture of power to a Culture of Peace, from institutions of domination to Peace Governance. Only then can we rebuild not on ruins, but on foundations strong enough to hold the weight of humanity’s longing for justice and compassion.
[MindaViews is the opinion section of MindaNews. Jules L. Benitez is working with the Katilingbanong Pamahandi sa Mindanaw Foundation Inc. (KPMFI), the Provincial Government of Basilan and the local religious leaders to develop and mainstream an Islamic guidance on local conflict resolution)]
