“We’re Already Dead Here”: Lessons from Gaza’s Frontlines
We interviewed Dr Muhammad Mustafa, a British-Australian doctor who has travelled to Gaza twice during the war. What he shared wasn’t just a story of suffering, but a raw insight into life on the frontline – where hospitals are bombed, children are gunned down in their sleep, and paramedics declare, “We’re already dead.”
The reality of Gaza hits harder than any image on a screen. In one of the first scenes Dr Muhammad describes, dogs were eating bodies on the roadside just metres away from lush Israeli farmland. Within minutes of arriving at a Gaza hospital, he was helping carry the bodies of an entire family killed in an airstrike.
Children Without Heads. Parents Hugging Corpses.
Dr Muhammad’s voice shook as he recalled carrying the remains of decapitated children. “Even as a grown man,” he said, “I was shaking.” He described having to scoop brain matter back into a child’s skull before the parents saw the body, just to give them a sliver of dignity. One father arrived by donkey cart with his dying children, only for the donkey to urinate on their corpses. “No one,” Dr Muhammad said, “should be humiliated like that.”
Medical Catastrophe and Impossible Choices
Working in Gaza’s shattered hospitals meant making impossible decisions. Without basic equipment – no ventilators, no suction machines, no morphine – he once had to scoop blood from a patient’s throat with his hands. He recounted a woman who grabbed his leg for help as he worked on another man’s collapsed lung. She died clutching his ankle. “I chose not to help her,” he said. “And I have to live with that.”
“Death is in the hands of Allah”
Before entering Gaza, Dr Muhammad’s own mother wept and told him, “Death is in the hands of Allah, not Israel.” That sentiment was echoed by a local paramedic who had recovered the bodies of his own colleagues and calmly said, “We’re already dead here.” But it wasn’t fear that drove them. It was faith – not just in Allah’s plan, but in the value of serving others until the end.
A Cry for Honesty, Not Politics
When asked about Australia’s role, Dr Muhammad didn’t offer political analysis. He simply asked for honesty. “Palestinian children don’t die. They’re slaughtered,” he said. “Cutting off food, water and electricity is not ‘pressure’ – it’s a war crime.” His message to the Prime Minister was simple: “Sit down. Talk to me. Help me bring even a cup of water or a lollipop to a child.”
Spiritual Liberation Amid the Horror
Despite the trauma, Dr Muhammad says Gaza changed him. “Spiritually, I feel liberated,” he reflected. “When you’ve seen death up close, nothing else matters.” He came back unable to rest, driven by a sense of duty to raise awareness. “We need to humanise these people again,” he said. “Even just a blanket or some cheese – I’ll take it.”
Dr Muhammad’s story is a painful reminder of the cost of inaction – and the power of one person choosing to act.