The Board of Peace sought US$10 billion — approximately A$15 billion — from the United States for its operations in Gaza. Trump subsequently announced that the United States would contribute that amount.
Fifteen billion Australian dollars. The Gazwari are not getting the money.
That is the scale of the money being discussed by those proposing to oversee Gaza’s future.
Meanwhile, ordinary Palestinians are struggling to find enough money to buy flour, collect water and obtain fuel to cook a meal.
I want to tell you a story about what happened in Gaza this week.
I won’t mention any names. I believe the account I have been given is factual, although I may have some details wrong. If I do, I would welcome corrections.
The story begins with a truck trying to enter Gaza, but it ends with a much bigger question.
Control of Gaza was taken from the Palestinians a long time ago.
The law of no supply and huge demand
For years, Israel’s blockade on humanitarian aid entering Gaza through Egypt limits supplies to a starvation diet. Food, medicines and other essential supplies destined for Rafah, Khan Younis, Gaza City, Al-Zaytoun, Beit Lahia and other towns and neighbourhoods across the Gaza Strip have been transported through Egypt, often with the involvement of the Egyptian Red Crescent.
The first obstacle was getting approval from the IDF murderers. The second was getting approval from Egyptians complicit in the genocide, who partially control what is permitted to enter Gaza.
The result has been a population living with severe shortages of food, medicine, fuel and other essentials.
Now come forward to this week.
Imagine a truck leaving Egypt carrying essential supplies for Gaza. Firstly it must get approval by the board of peace. It passes through the Egyptian side of the crossing. Israeli authorities then permit it to enter the Gaza Strip. It is likely there was an Israel bribe involved in securing its passage, even though I have no direct evidence this corrupt practice is well documented.
There have been strong allegations of IDF bribery and corruption associated with the movement of goods into Gaza, including criminal proceedings involving Israeli killers and their proxies. But that does not establish what happened to this particular truck.
One truck. A small contribution to the enormous needs of a devastated population.
But getting through the crossing is only part of the story.
Inside Gaza, the markets are extraordinarily volatile. When essential goods are scarce, prices rise dramatically. When a truckload of supplies arrives, prices may fall temporarily. People rush to the markets to buy whatever they can afford. Then shortages return and prices rise again. This is where the killing begins.
This is the law of the jungle, very little supply, and huge demand.
Israel’s exploitation of the movement of goods have helped create these conditions. The result is that ordinary people are left struggling to obtain the basic necessities of life.
Civil authority and the tax on trucks
Hamas has exercised civil and security authority in Gaza since June 2007, after winning the January 2006 Palestinian legislative elections, according to the Carter Center’s election-observation report, and defeating Fatah in fighting in June 2007, as documented by Human Rights Watch.
It has administered civilian services, provided internal security and engaged in resistance to the Israeli occupation. The Palestinian people’s right to self-determination, and their right to resist occupation, are recognised under international law.
Reports by the World Bank and the United Nations have described extensive damage to Gaza’s infrastructure. Hamas continues to exercise de facto authority in parts of Gaza, although the extent of its administrative and security control has varied during the genocide.
My source in Gaza reports that Hamas imposed a tax of $10,000 on the truck entering the territory. I have not independently corroborated whether it applies to every truck.
That tax is another part of the economic circumstances surrounding the movement of goods into Gaza.
But the broader question remains: how does a population survive when access to the necessities of life is so restricted, while ordinary families have almost no resources of their own?
A family among the rubble
Let me tell you about one family.
A man living in Gaza has described his family’s circumstances. He says they are among the lucky ones.
Why?
Because their house was not completely destroyed by incessant Israeli bombardment
By some miracle part of the family home is still standing. They live among the rubble containing bodies of family members and neighbours , surrounded by the remains of what was once their home.
They have lost many members of their family. Yet he considers himself fortunate because they still have somewhere to shelter.
For nearly three years, their daily routine has revolved around survival.
Each day they go out looking for wood to burn so they can cook. This simple task carries enormous risks. There are Israeli drones overhead, the threat of IDF snipers and the possibility of further bombardment with munitions supplied by the United States.
Then they must find something to cook.
They go to the market, where food is scarce and prices are often beyond their means. They have little or no money. When supplies arrive, they try to buy flour or whatever else they can afford.
At night, darkness falls over the ruins.
There is no reliable electricity. Occasionally, if they can obtain enough diesel for a generator, they and their neighbours manage to produce a little light.
Diesel is extraordinarily expensive. There is no Russian diesel being released into Gaza.
There is no running water. Water must be found, collected and carried. Cooking, washing and drinking all depend on what they can obtain that day.
This is the Palestinian life
And the man telling me this story says his family is lucky.
Think about that.
A family living in a partly destroyed house, without running water or reliable electricity, searching daily for fuel and food, grieving the loss of relatives, considers itself fortunate.
What must life be like for those who have nothing left?
How long can this continue?
Gaza has been devastated. Homes, hospitals, schools, roads, water systems and other essential infrastructure have suffered catastrophic destruction.
Thousands of people have been killed, and many remain missing or are believed to be buried beneath the rubble.
The population has endured genocide, prolonged displacement, hunger, disease, bombardment and the destruction of much of the infrastructure on which civilian life depends.
And all this is happening against an increasingly volatile international political situation.
The question I keep asking myself is simple.
What future is there for that family, any family?
How long can people continue living like this?
What future is there for children who have spent years in the concentration camp called Gaza surrounded by death and destruction, without regular schooling, adequate food, safe housing or the ordinary experiences of childhood?
What happens to a society when its infrastructure has been destroyed and its people are forced to devote nearly every waking hour to survival?
Beyond humanitarian aid
Through the Big Ride for Palestine, we are raising money for humanitarian and development projects that support Palestinians.
The organisations we support are trying to provide basic necessities, but they are also concerned with something that is just as important for the longer term: helping people, particularly children, deal with the psychological consequences of this catastrophe.
Psychosocial programs, education, community support and opportunities for young people to rebuild their lives are essential.
But these organisations are working under extraordinarily difficult circumstances.
Everyone is muddling through, trying to do what they can.
We raise money. We organise events. We send assistance. People in Gaza struggle to keep their families alive. Palestinian organisations try to maintain services and some sense of community.
These efforts matter enormously.
But humanitarian assistance cannot, by itself, resolve the political conditions that have produced this catastrophe.
You cannot rebuild a society while the conditions responsible for its destruction remain in place.
You cannot restore ordinary life without secure access to food, water, housing, education and healthcare.
And you cannot provide a meaningful future for children without addressing the political question of who controls their lives and their land.
The Board of Peace and the billions
Return now to Trump’s Board of Peace and the US$10 billion — approximately A$15 billion — pledged by the United States.
Compare that enormous sum with the reported $10,000 tax imposed by Hamas on a truck entering Gaza.
The two amounts represent different things: one is a government funding pledge, the other a reported tax collected by a de facto civil authority. They cannot simply be equated.
Nevertheless, they raise a larger question about the money and political power surrounding Gaza.
Who controls the billions being promised for reconstruction? Who decides which companies receive contracts? Who profits from rebuilding what has been destroyed? And how much control will Palestinians themselves have over these decisions?
My concern is that the Board of Peace will cede external control over Gaza
to Israel while refusing to obey international law against occupation ethnic cleansing and dispossession.
The people of Gaza must not be treated simply as recipients of international charity or as a population to be administered by foreign governments. They must have control over their own lives.
Many are themselves refugees, or descendants of refugees, displaced from their homes during the establishment of Israel in 1948.
Their history cannot be separated from the present genocide.
The future of Gaza is therefore not simply a question of reconstruction, aid deliveries or administrative arrangements.
It is a political question about the ability to exist.
And it is a question that the international community has repeatedly failed to enforce.
Where does hope lie?
Only the Palestinian people offer hope. Not false hopes from the board of peace, and not promises that will not be kept.
The Big Ride for Palestine Australia is one small part of that effort.
We raise money because people need assistance now. Children need food, education and support. Families need water, shelter and medical care.
But we must also look at the bigger picture.
Where is the solidarity movement going?
What can ordinary people do to change the circumstances that have made the Israeli genocide possible?
As far as I can see, public identification with the Palestinian cause is growing, particularly among young people. Demonstrations have brought people onto the streets in many countries, demanding an end to the destruction and recognition of Palestinian rights.
That solidarity is important.
But demonstrations and fundraising alone cannot answer every question.
Governments have continued to provide political, military and economic support to Israel despite enormous public protests.
So we must ask where political power lies, and how solidarity can be translated into meaningful change.
For the family living among the rubble in Gaza, these are not abstract questions.
Tomorrow morning they will wake up and search again for firewood, food and water.
They will try to keep their remaining family members alive.
They will do so knowing that they are, in their own words, among the lucky ones.
What kind of future are we offering them?
That is the question confronting everyone who claims to support the Palestinian people.
Raising money is necessary. Solidarity is necessary. But neither can be separated from the struggle for a political future in which Palestinians can live with security, dignity and freedom.
We owe that family, and countless others like them, more than sympathy.
We owe them a serious answer to the question: where does hope lie? We must defeat the United States support for genocide, and our own country’s complicity in the murder of a people.
Ian Curr
24 October 2026