Once Places of Care, Now Symbols of Collapse
Hospitals are supposed to be places of refuge, not scenes of destruction. But in Gaza, that’s no longer true. The healthcare system—already battered by years of blockade—has been pushed over the edge. Now, it’s not just failing. It’s vanishing.
Since October 2023, the scale and intensity of the assault on Gaza’s medical infrastructure have been nothing short of breathtaking. Entire hospitals have been leveled. Clinics have vanished. Doctors have died. And the few facilities still standing? They’re barely recognizable.
A War on Healthcare, Not Just on Hamas
The pattern is hard to ignore. Over 30 hospitals and more than 100 clinics have been either destroyed or abandoned. That’s not random damage. That’s something else entirely.
Many of the strikes have come after hospitals were placed under siege. Others were bombed while full of patients and staff. Ambulances haven’t been spared. Neither have medical convoys. And increasingly, the message seems grimly clear: being a doctor or a nurse in Gaza is as dangerous as being on the front line.
One exhausted paramedic in Rafah put it bluntly: “We treat people where we used to sleep. We sleep where we used to operate. And we bury patients where we used to heal them.”
From Collapse to Catastrophe
Before the war, Gaza’s hospitals were already staggering under pressure. A 17-year Israeli blockade had starved the territory of vital medical equipment, pharmaceuticals, and even enough electricity to reliably power life-saving machines.
But now? The World Health Organization says over 70% of Gaza’s hospitals are completely out of service. Those that are still standing are often operating without water, power, or even oxygen. And that’s if they’re not being shelled.
Here’s how bad it’s gotten:
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More than 250 medical workers have reportedly been killed since the war began.
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Medical students are now acting as full-fledged physicians.
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Children in need of dialysis are being turned away or treated without working machines.
Some hospitals now run surgeries without anesthesia. Others have turned lobbies into operating rooms. It’s medical care by candlelight. Literally.
The Human Cost, Measured in Shattered Lives
Every number in a press release has a name behind it. A mother who couldn’t deliver her baby safely. A boy who lost his leg in an airstrike and waited days for an amputation. A grandmother who died not from wounds, but from the lack of oxygen.
And the heartbreak doesn’t end at the patient level. Medical staff are burning out—physically, emotionally, spiritually. Many have lost their homes. Some have lost their families.
They return to work anyway.
One surgeon at Al-Shifa hospital, before it was overrun by Israeli forces earlier this year, was seen operating for 36 straight hours. “If I stop,” he reportedly said, “who will help them?”
Just one sentence. But it says everything.
Medicine Under Siege: Gaza’s Remaining Hospitals
Here’s a stark look at what remains operational, according to WHO field reports from June 2025:
Hospital Name | Location | Functionality | Notes |
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Al-Aqsa Hospital | Deir al-Balah | Partially running | Operating rooms non-functional |
Nasser Medical Complex | Khan Younis | Limited capacity | Severe shortage of staff, fuel, and oxygen |
Indonesian Hospital | Beit Lahia | Non-functional | Directly hit in May; no services available |
Al-Shifa Hospital | Gaza City | Non-functional | Occupied and evacuated |
That table only tells part of the story. The rest of the picture is much darker.
Life-Saving Equipment Sitting Silent
One of the cruelest parts of this story? The machines are there. But they can’t be used.
Incubators for premature babies are covered in dust. Dialysis machines are offline. MRIs? Just hulking shells without electricity.
In some cases, solar panels were installed years ago to help hospitals beat power cuts. But Israeli airstrikes targeted those too. Even the fallback plans have fallback plans that have failed.
And here’s the thing—these aren’t just technical failures. They’re decisions. Strategic ones. Bombing infrastructure doesn’t just break bricks. It kills futures.
A War With No Safe Place
Even for civilians seeking shelter, hospitals used to be a last resort. But now? Not anymore.
Refugees who once flooded hospital courtyards in search of safety have stopped coming. Many are too afraid. Others simply don’t believe there’s anything left to protect them.
“We thought hospitals would be protected,” said one father of three who had taken his kids to Al-Quds Hospital last November. “Then the shelling started right outside. We had to run again.”
One sentence. Another heartbreak.
Legal Gray Zones and Global Silence
International law is supposed to shield medical centers during conflict. But those laws aren’t being followed—or enforced.
Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have documented what they describe as deliberate attacks on medical infrastructure. Still, no clear accountability has followed. Israel denies targeting hospitals deliberately, often citing Hamas activity inside or around them. But critics say that justification has been stretched well beyond what’s credible.
UN Secretary-General António Guterres warned in March, “The erosion of protections for medical personnel is one of the most alarming developments we’ve seen in this conflict.” He called for “an immediate halt to attacks on all health facilities.”
Yet, here we are.
Gaza’s Medical Professionals Are Hanging On—Barely
Somehow, through all this, there’s still fight left in Gaza’s medical community.
Doctors are training teens to assist in surgeries. Midwives are coaching deliveries without ultrasounds or painkillers. Psychologists, where they still exist, are trying to keep people sane.
They aren’t just saving lives. They’re preserving what little humanity is left.
But even they know the odds are against them. Supplies are thinning. Fuel is gone. And the emotional toll is unbearable.
Still, they try.
Because, as one nurse in a bombed-out facility in Khan Younis said, “We’re all they have left.”