In Gaza’s Nuseirat refugee camp, 15-year-old Raghad Abu Shaar stood in a dusty line, clutching an empty pot, waiting for food that hasn’t come in weeks. “We’re hungry,” she whispered, her eyes scanning the horizon for aid trucks. After nearly 11 weeks of Israel’s blockade, a new plan to deliver aid is stirring hope and skepticism. Jake Wood, executive director of the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, told CNN on Friday that Israel will soon allow some food into Gaza, but his group’s controversial, U.S.- and Israel-approved aid mechanism faces fierce criticism. “I won’t be part of displacing Palestinians,” Wood insisted, urging the United Nations to join the effort despite its refusal, citing risks of forced migration.
Wood, a U.S. Marine Corps veteran, leads the newly formed foundation, tasked with a tightly controlled system to deliver aid to Gaza’s 2.1 million people, 90% of whom are displaced. The plan, backed by Washington and Tel Aviv, aims to prevent Hamas from stealing supplies—a claim Hamas and UN agencies deny, pointing to no evidence of significant diversion. The foundation plans to provide 300 million meals in its first 90 days, enough for only 60% of Gaza’s population initially. “It’s not sufficient,” Wood admitted, calling conditions “clearly urgent.” Without UN support, he said, feeding everyone is “hard to say.” Private U.S. contractor UG Solutions will secure trucks from the border to distribution sites, operating under strict rules, though Wood declined to share details for security reasons.
The blockade, intensified since March, followed Hamas’s October 7, 2023, attack that killed 1,200 Israelis and took 250 hostages. Israel’s response—over 52,000 Palestinian deaths, mostly civilians, and widespread destruction—has left Gaza in ruins. Netanyahu’s recent push for a military offensive and aid control, including moving Palestinians south “for their protection,” has raised alarms. Aid groups and the UN warn the plan could force displacement, with Jan Egeland of the Norwegian Refugee Council calling it a “militarized” scheme that starves civilians by limiting aid to a few southern hubs. The UN, citing violations of humanitarian principles, refuses to participate.
Wood counters that opposition stems from misinformation, like claims of Israeli military security or biometric data sharing. “That’s not the plan,” he said, emphasizing transparency through public dashboards tracking every dollar. He’s secured banking with Truist and JPMorgan Chase and is forming a Swiss affiliate for global donors. Yet, Gazans like Mahmoud Salem, a 40-year-old teacher, remain wary. “We need food, not promises,” he said, standing amid rubble. In Israel, families of the 58 remaining hostages, like David Cohen, fear escalated operations jeopardize their loved ones. “Aid shouldn’t mean more fighting,” Cohen said at a Tel Aviv vigil.
Reactions are heated. On X, Gazans post desperate pleas—“We’re starving”—while aid workers share images of crowded, barren distribution sites. Protests in London and Amman demand Israel lift the blockade, echoing UN relief chief Tom Fletcher’s call to end “cruel collective punishment.” Israeli officials, silent on specifics, insist the plan ensures security. The foundation’s reliance on private contractors, bypassing UN expertise, fuels distrust, with Egeland warning of an “inoperable system.”
The stakes are dire. Gaza’s children, like Raghad, face malnutrition; hospitals lack medicine; and 423,000 more people have been displaced since March. The plan’s limited hubs may force vulnerable families to trek dangerous routes for food, risking exposure to strikes. Israel’s economy strains under war costs, and U.S. diplomacy, led by Trump’s vague “freedom zone” idea, falters. Without UN involvement, the foundation’s reach is uncertain, and regional tensions with groups like Hezbollah loom.
What’s next? Wood expects “positive updates” on aid trucks soon and has asked Israel to expand distribution sites, including in northern Gaza, to avoid forcing movement. The UN holds firm, demanding open access. In Nuseirat, Raghad dreams of a full meal, while Salem prays for peace. As the plan rolls out by month’s end, its success hinges on trust and cooperation—both in short supply. Can Wood’s vision feed Gaza without fueling displacement, or will it deepen a crisis already tearing lives apart?
