As the seizure of the Madleen reopens (public) debate on Gaza and the eyes of the world are upon Israel once again, it seems (as) apt (a moment as any) to revisit the conversation on starvation and hunger in Gaza, now more than 600 days into this humanitarian crises. In this brief comment, I argue that there is a method to the seemingly endless violence in Gaza. I call it long and slow violence by which I hope to draw attention to this singularity of form that hunger and starvation have taken on in Gaza.
A defining feature of the situation in Gaza is its continuity across various historical periods up to the present. A comprehensive understanding of the conditions faced by the people of Gaza, both from a humanitarian perspective and within a legal framework, necessitates an examination of the policies and practices that have shaped their lived realities over time. The Advisory Opinion of the International Court delivered on 19th July 2024 was instrumental in its ability to move beyond the limitations that the law of occupation carries by characterizing the policies and practices of Israel in terms of settler-colonialism. As Wolfe notes and the section on territory subsequently delves into, settler colonialism ‘destroys to replace’. In the context of Gaza specifically, and Palestine more broadly, this has been reflected in a series of actions by Israel that are framed as lawful, a framing made possible by the underlying structural biases embedded within the international legal system. Some of these acts were recorded in the Court’s recent opinion in the form of a reading of discrimination in the policies and practices of Israel that were not only violative of the rights of Palestinians in their own essence but contributed towards a large pattern of control that Israel exercises (Paragraphs – 229 “The Court observes that Israel’s legislation and measures impose and serve to maintain a near-complete separation in the West Bank and East Jerusalem between the settler and Palestinian communities. For this reason, the Court considers that Israel’s legislation and measures constitute a breach of Article 3 of CERD”). While other acts are independent, such as attacking vehicles carrying humanitarian aid to Gaza, they contribute to strengthening Israel’s control over basic and essential elements to Gaza.
Regardless of their particular nature, it is imperative to view the present day situation in the context of everything that has happened since 1949. Especially in reference to law, for the commission of a crime to be established within the factual matrix of the present day it is important to view where the intention of the crime lies. However, the language of international law is infamous for its ambiguity and deference to the status quo. In such situations what other perspectives must we introduce to use the law to its most effective end?
I want to introduce, conceptually, the dimensions of time and speed into the analysis of violence. This allows for a more nuanced understanding of crimes such as starvation. The temporal element is essential to contextualizing legal discourse on Palestine. This contextualization holds multifaceted legal significance. First, from the standpoint of common sense, situating events within their historical and sequential frameworks contributes to a more robust recognition of Palestinian subjectivity and the systematic nature of the violence inflicted upon them. Second, in terms of factual accuracy, contextualization enables a comprehensive account of the processes that precede seemingly isolated or “instantaneous” acts. For example, Israel’s invocation of self-defense in response to the events of 7 October 2023 becomes significantly less tenable when Palestinian suffering is understood not as incidental or collateral under the proportionality principle of international humanitarian law, but rather as part of an ongoing pattern of human rights violations.
Third, in what has often been described as a legal vacuum, the Palestinian question, provocatively termed by Nimer Sultany as a litmus test for international law, demands critical engagement with the structural limits and selective enforcement of legal norms. Fourth, for future legal and political discourse, contextualization disrupts the cycle of global desensitization to daily violations and highlights the importance of early recognition of settler-colonial patterns in order to prevent their long term consequences.
The concept of ‘slow violence’ is particularly instructive here. It refers to the incremental, attritive forms of harm that accumulate over extended periods in contexts of chronic deprivation. This introduces the element of speed, or rather, its deliberate deceleration. Slow violence inherently implies a temporally extended form of harm, that is, violence that is not explosive and spectacular but instead persistent and erosive. It draws attention to the cumulative impact of sustained practices and policies that systematically violate fundamental rights over time. In the current context, much of the harm endured by Palestinians stems not from isolated, prosecutable incidents (such as a single act of murder), but from a continuum of violations. The relevant legal wrong lies in this continuity, the enduring deprivation and violence experienced by Palestinians as the product of a sustained structure of domination and exclusion.
This characterization is essential to articulating starvation as a distinct crime, as it reveals a direct correlation between Israel’s sustained regulatory control over Palestinian lives and its settler-colonial objective of displacing the indigenous population. The mechanisms through which Israel exercises control over Palestinian people and resources have evolved over time, but the underlying intent has remained consistent. Israel’s regulation of access to Gaza did not emerge as a consequence of the events of October 7, 2023; to frame it as such would be a distortion of the historical record. The history of Gaza is defined by a longstanding and systematic regime of restrictions on the movement of people and goods, a regime that predates and transcends recent events.
The checkpoints and inspections at the Kerem Shalom Crossing, the highly restrictive and often unattainable criteria for entry through the Erez Crossing, and the comprehensive control of Gaza’s airspace and maritime access are not isolated policies but components of a continuous structure of domination. These practices persist despite Israel’s formal declaration of “disengagement” in 2005 and serve as concrete evidence of its ongoing control over Gaza. Collectively, they point to a sustained strategy aimed at rendering the territory uninhabitable for its native population.
Crucially, the framing of starvation as a form of slow violence must also incorporate its intergenerational impact. Scientific research demonstrates that starvation can cause long-term biological harm through mechanisms such as small RNA-induced gene silencing, with effects that extend beyond the directly afflicted generation to future ones. In the context of a state whose foundation involved the displacement and dispossession of another people, it would be both legally and historically negligent to ignore the likelihood that such a state might pursue policies that produce harm not only in the present but also across generations. The legal recognition of starvation as a distinct and continuing crime must therefore reflect both its structural roots and its enduring consequences. Christine Chinkin, in her analysis of human rights law’s engagement with women as both subjects and agents, provides a succinct framework for understanding the advancement of women’s rights. She argues that the full realization of women’s rights, recognizing women as a collective who experience violence, discrimination, and differential treatment based on gender, depends fundamentally on the eradication of sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV). The cessation of SGBV is thus a prerequisite for the effective enjoyment of all human rights by women. Moreover, addressing SGBV opens critical spaces within International Human Rights Law to confront where such violence occurs. Abstractly, this can be expressed as follows: a specific right, ‘Y’, enables the realization and exercise of all human rights for a group ‘X’, but ‘Y’ is violated in relation to ‘X’ precisely because of a particular identity characteristic.
Applying this framework to the case of starvation in Palestine, I argue that starvation, as a specific violation, obstructs the realization of all human rights for Palestinians. This particular act of starvation is inflicted upon them specifically because of their Palestinian identity. Contextualizing this further, the targeted nature of this violence aligns with colonial-driven policy. A historical parallel can be drawn to the colonial-era Bengal famine under the East India Company, where starvation was deliberately induced as a mechanism of control. Such colonial tactics were underpinned by an “entitlement approach” and a denial of indigenous rights to land and resources, reinforcing the notion of a persistent and continuous intent to dispossess and subjugate native populations. This historical precedent underscores the continuity and intent behind the present-day practices observed in Palestine. The colonial examples of famine and forced starvation of colonial populations as part of the policies of the coloniser weaponised food again and again. The situation in Gaza brings the ideas of weaponising food against populations back… it is an echo chamber of these past horrors haunting our present.
IntLawGrrls 