Palestine: The Great Return March

Photo from Al Jazeera

Hello everyone.

You’ve probably seen this photo on your social media feed recently. The man in that image, someone who, for a moment, became a symbol, was reported to have been injured in an Israeli attack. And while the photo feels powerful on its own, his story is not the only one.

There have been many others before him. Names that appear briefly in the news, then slowly disappear, Razan Al-Najjar, an eight-month-old baby named Laila, journalists, paramedics, ordinary people. Different lives, same ending.

And it makes you stop and wonder, what is actually happening?

These are not soldiers. They are not armed groups. So why are they the ones facing this level of violence?

To understand this, we need to take a step back.

In 1917, during World War I, the Balfour Declaration supported the idea of establishing a Jewish homeland in Palestine, which at the time was under the Ottoman Empire. This led to increased migration and settlement in the area.

Then in 1948 came a moment that is remembered very differently depending on who you ask. Palestinians call it the Nakba, “the catastrophe”, when many were forced to leave their homes. Israel marks the same moment as its Independence Day. One date, two completely different meanings.

Since then, the situation has remained tense and deeply unequal. There have been talks of peace, agreements, negotiations, but for many Palestinians, the reality on the ground has not changed much.

If you try to picture it, it’s difficult. Imagine losing your home, your land, and having little control over your daily life, your movement, your opportunities, your future. It’s not just about politics; it’s about how people live, every single day.

And yet, people still stand.

In Gaza, many who take part in protests are not fighters. They are students, doctors, parents, people with ordinary lives. They don’t have military power. Sometimes, they barely have anything at all. But they show up anyway.

This is where the Great Return March comes in.

It began on March 30, 2018, Palestinian Land Day. Since then, thousands of Palestinians have gathered, especially in Gaza, to protest. Men, women, children, entire families. Their message is simple: they want the right to return to the homes their families once had.

But even peaceful gatherings have been met with force. Over the months, hundreds of Palestinians were killed, including children, journalists, and paramedics. Thousands more were injured.

And still, the marches continued.

Because for many of them, it’s not just a protest. It’s about being seen, being heard, and holding on to something they believe is still theirs.

Palestinian journalist Yasser Murtaja died after being shot by an Israeli sniper. Photo from Al Jazeera

Razan al-Najjar, Palestinian paramedic who was killed by the Israeli Defense Forces while volunteering 

Laila an eight-month-old baby died of tear gas inhalation

For many Palestinians, the Great Return March is more than just a protest. It is a sincere effort, driven by a deep longing to return home and to live without the restrictions that have shaped life in Gaza for over a decade.

There is also a legal side to this. The idea of return is not just emotional, it is rooted in international discussions, including UN Resolution 194, which speaks about the right of Palestinian refugees to return to their homes and live in peace. More broadly, international refugee and human rights principles continue to emphasise the responsibility of the global community to protect displaced people and support their rights.

Through the marches, Palestinians are also calling on the UN to take a more active role, not just in words, but in action, to protect refugees and help make that return possible.

Seventy years have passed, with countless negotiations and attempts at resolution. Yet for many Palestinians, the situation still feels unresolved. What they are asking for, at its core, is simple: dignity, justice, and an end to what they experience as an ongoing system of control and inequality.

You can hear it in the way people speak during these protests, there is a sense of exhaustion, but also determination. A feeling of, we’ve waited long enough.

At the same time, global political decisions have only made things feel more distant. Moves like recognising Jerusalem as Israel’s capital and relocating embassies there have been seen by many as further sidelining Palestinian claims and concerns.

And so the question becomes difficult to ignore,

How do you expect people to stay silent, when they feel like their rights are slowly slipping away?