Since May 22, 2025, people around the world have been fasting in solidarity with the starving people of Gaza. It is a nonviolent way to raise one’s voice when no one is willing to listen.
It’s well after Easter, and I’m hungry. For several days now, my diet has consisted of only 250 kilocalories. According to recent research by Oxfam, this is roughly the amount available to the 300,000 Palestinians living in the northern Gaza Strip. That’s two slices of crispbread, one banana, and one egg per day, or one can of beans. Since Israel blockaded the Gaza Strip and thereby the import of international aid, the northern part of this tiny, densely populated land has been suffering from severe famine.
The fasting campaign was launched by Veterans For Peace (VFP), a non-profit organization in the United States that advocates for alternatives to war and opposes the military policies of the US and its allies. The aim is to draw attention to the catastrophic humanitarian impact of Israel’s blockade policy on the people of Gaza and includes two specific demands: the resumption of humanitarian aid to the Gaza Strip under UN supervision and an immediate end to arms deliveries to Israel by the United States. Veterans For Peace is supported by FOSNA (Friends of Sabeel North America), an interdenominational Christian Palestinian organization, as well as Nonviolence International, an NGO that promotes active nonviolence and supports creative, constructive nonviolent campaigns worldwide.
The call for solidarity fasting convinced me: when words fail and no one is listening anymore, our bodies must speak. History is witness to numerous hunger strikes. They are one of the best-known nonviolent actions to draw attention to the unseen. In 1932, Gandhi was one of the first to use voluntary abstinence from food as a political means of pressure to fight for human rights in India. And he was heard by being seen. He was not alone.
Every action has more impact when done collectively. More people means more visibility, more reach, more influence. Every single person counts. The initiators of the current campaign are well aware of this. In addition to a group of people fasting together in New York City at the Isaiah Wall (First Avenue and E. 43rd Street) in full view of the public, they have called on people around the world to join them in solidarity. Numerous individuals have joined in. They are encouraged to form groups and fast together, or form a series of fasters who take turns. Forty days is a long time. The point is to connect with each other and talk about what is happening. It’s about supporting each other, embodying the issue and urgency, and making it visible and tangible. Hoping words will then hit home and make contact again. For me, it’s clear immediately: I can do this. I can talk to people about why I’m fasting. I can present myself, with the pain and despair that have lived within me since I first stepped off the plane in Tel Aviv a good 25 years ago to visit Palestine. Nothing more than that, but nothing less, too.
Hunger gnaws at me. It makes me tired and dazed, wears me down, and undermines my inner stability. Hunger is weakening, but at the same time, it makes something deep inside me very firm, almost hard. Dizziness, disorientation, exhaustion, headaches, sadness, and constant anxiety accompany me throughout the days. I’m always cold. I want to sleep, but hunger keeps me awake. There’s a great inner restlessness, an urge to move, to do something. Perhaps to avoid feeling the hunger.
Breaking the Cycle of Violence
The campaign is called “40 Days and Escalate: Veterans & Allies Fast for Gaza,” which shows that the initiators are fully aware that this action of solidarity may not be successful on its own. They are already announcing further non-violent actions right from the start if their demands are not fully met by June 30. Fasting is a start, as if there were no other choice. And that’s how it feels, even though we know we always have a choice. For too long, I’ve watched the events in the Middle East in disbelief. And sometimes I look away, because all hope for peace lies buried under layers of rubble, towering walls, and inscrutable international power politics. How can we break the cycle of violence? Where do we start? If we don’t come to terms with history, it catches up with us and repeats itself. As it has in Israel/Palestine and many other places around the world. We must talk to each other and heal.
The incomprehensible, the indescribable, the inconceivable penetrates every cell of my body, while at the same time my body tries to wrap itself in a protective shell. Sometimes my body itself feels like the battlefield I’m protesting against. I continuously check-in with myself to remember that this is not my personal conflict, and I don’t have to bear it alone. But I have the power to change something by standing up for my truth.
On the 40th day after Easter, Jesus ascended to heaven. He left his earthly body. Ten days later, his spirit returned and inspired his assembled disciples. They understand, they feel, they become his message. Suddenly, they speak all the languages of the world, and the miracle happens. What language do we understand today all over the world? Our bodies are the most visible, the most eloquent, the most vulnerable thing we have. I talk to many people these days. They encourage me and thank me, and I feel that I’ve reached them. They have understood what this is all about. They have felt it with me. Is that enough? I don’t know. I may never know. But it is what I can do right now.
More FOSNA; Nonviolence International; Veterans for Peace
Translation Joshua Kelberman
Image Logo of Veterans For Peace
