Not Only for This Generation: Gaza and the Soul of the Profession

By Paul Alexander Wolf, FRACGP – June 28, 2025

“Is not this the fast I choose: to loose the chains of injustice,
to share your bread with the hungry,
to welcome the afflicted into your own flesh and blood?
Learn to do right; seek justice, defend the oppressed,
take up the cause of the vulnerable…
Then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.”
– Isaiah 58:6–10; 1:17 (adapted)

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This is not a question of ideology.
It is a test of humanity – whether we still see the human face behind every statistic, beyond race, religion, or geography.

Imagine Israeli children starving behind siege lines.
Imagine hospitals in Tel Aviv bombed, ambulance crews executed, food convoys attacked.
Would we remain silent? Would our medical institutions stay neutral?

When Russia invaded Ukraine, the response was swift and resolute:
Governments, medical colleges, civil society – each named atrocities, upheld ethics, took action. No hesitation. No ambiguity.

But when the victims are Palestinian – starving children, besieged hospitals, murdered journalists –
we are urged to show restraint. To “stay balanced.” To remain silent.

This is not neutrality.
It is moral abdication.
It is the posture of institutions more afraid of controversy than of injustice.
Silence, calibrated and rehearsed, enables violence.
And that silence comes at a terrible cost.

Spain calls Gaza a genocide. South Africa champions accountability at the International Court of Justice.
Yet too many of our professional bodies – regulatory authorities and medical colleges – whisper warnings:
“Undermining public trust.”
“Political statements are unprofessional.”

Since when did saying children should not starve, hospitals must be protected, or doctors must speak truth become dangerous?
When did affirming human rights become a political act?

When did we forget that our oath is a moral one?
To do no harm. To protect the vulnerable. To bear witness.
These are not fringe ideals. They are the foundation of the healing profession.

And yet, in many ways, our profession has drifted.
Market forces, billing pressure, institutional fear – these drown out conscience.
CPD points take precedence over moral clarity.
Compliance becomes a shield. Advocacy becomes a risk.

Recall my father – a Dutch resistance leader in WWII – who sheltered Jews and fought evil not from hatred, but from conscience. The group had to hire assassins to eliminate the most dangerous Gestapo officers responsible for the transport of defenceless Jews to concentration death camps.
The group was betrayed and every one was executed. My father survived, just. He believed moral courage is the hallmark of humanity.

If he were alive today – watching Gaza burn, doctors punished for speaking their truth – he would mourn.
And he would ask 2 things:
How could Israel fail so deeply?
And
How did a profession built on conscience become afraid of its own voice?

This moment is bigger than us.

It is about the soul of medicine, the moral integrity of our society, and our shared humanity – not only for this generation, but for all those to come – here, and across the world.

We are witnessing a cultural collapse –
a triumph of tribalism, greed, and numbness, where truth becomes inconvenient and justice conditional.

But amidst darkness, light persists.
In street medics risking their lives.
In courageous journalists like Amira Hass, Gideon Levy, Ilan Pappe – who refuse silence.
In Israeli moral minorities and international advocates demanding accountability –
light endures.

The question is not whether courage exists.
It is whether we will join it.

Because courage is not dead.
It only needs company.

Let us speak plainly:
• Hospitals must never be targeted.
• Ambulances must always be protected.
• Children must not starve behind siege lines.
• Doctors must never be punished for speaking these truths.

Are these political statements?
Only if morality itself has become political.

If we cannot affirm these without fear,
then the soul of medicine has been lost.

But hope remains.
In flickering voices under fire.
In the steadfast reporting of moral witnesses.
In those who still believe in conscience.

Light does not vanish in darkness.
It resists – quietly, bravely, steadfastly.

The question now is ours:
Will we join them?
Will we rekindle our moral light?

Because, in the end, the choice is simple:
To act with courage, or to betray our calling.

Let us be doctors again, wherever and anywhere we work.
Let us be human again, wherever and anywhere we live and breathe.
And let us never again confuse fear with integrity.