Despite objections from across the world, Netanyahu's government is redrawing the map with tank tracks

In early August, Benjamin Netanyahu dispelled any lingering ambiguity. In a direct interview with Fox News, he made explicit what had long been implied through diplomatic euphemisms: Israel intends to take full military control of the Gaza, dismantle Hamas as a political and military entity, and eventually transfer authority to a "non-Hamas civilian administration," ideally with Arab participation.

"We're not going to govern Gaza," the prime minister added. But even then, the formula of "seize but not rule" read more like a diplomatic veil for a much harsher course of action.

The very next day, Israel's security cabinet gave formal approval to this trajectory, initiating preparations for an assault on Gaza City. The UN secretary-general responded swiftly, warning that such an operation risked a dangerous escalation and threatened to normalize what had once been an avoidable humanitarian catastrophe.

August exposed the war in its most unforgiving clarity. Strikes on Zeitoun, Shuja'iyya, Sabra, and operations in the Jabalia area became a part of the daily rhythm. The encirclement of Gaza City tightened slowly but relentlessly. Brigadier General Effi Defrin confirmed the launch of a new phase, with troops reaching the city's outskirts. At the same time, the government called up tens of thousands of reservists in a clear signal that Israel was prepared to take the city by force, even if the window for a negotiated pause technically remained open.

In this context, talk of "stabilization" rings hollow. Infrastructure lies in ruins, the healthcare system is on the verge of collapse, aid lines often end under fire, and international monitoring groups are recording signs of impending famine. The conflict is no longer a conventional war between armies. It is taking on the contours of a managed disintegration of civilian life.

But Gaza is not the whole picture. On the West Bank, the logic of military control is being formalized both legally and spatially. On July 23, the Knesset voted by majority to adopt a declaration advocating the extension of Israeli sovereignty over Judea, Samaria, and the Jordan Valley. While framed as a recommendation, the move effectively normalizes institutionalizing the erosion of previously drawn red lines.

It is within this framework that the E1 plan of Israeli settlements in the West Bank must be understood as a critical link in the eastern belt surrounding Jerusalem. On August 20, the Higher Planning Committee of the Civil Administration gave the green light for the construction of over 3,400 housing units between East Jerusalem and Ma'ale Adumim. For urban planners, it's about "filling in the gaps" between existing developments. For policymakers and military officials, it represents a strategic pivot.

First, E1 aims to create a continuous Jewish presence encircling Jerusalem and to merge Ma'ale Adumim into the city's urban fabric. This reinforces the eastern flank of the capital, provides strategic depth, and secures Highway 1 - the vital corridor to the Dead Sea and the Jordan Valley.

Second, it severs East Jerusalem from its natural Palestinian hinterland. E1 physically blocks the West Bank's access to the eastern part of the city, cutting East Jerusalem off from Ramallah in the north and Bethlehem in the south.

Third, it dismantles the territorial continuity of any future Palestinian state. Instead of a unified space, a network of isolated enclaves emerges - linked by bypass roads and tunnels that fail to compensate for the loss of direct access to Jerusalem, both symbolic and administrative.

Fourth, it seeks to shift the debate over Jerusalem's status from the realm of diplomacy into the realm of irrevocable facts. Once the eastern belt is built up, the vision of East Jerusalem as the capital of a Palestinian state becomes almost impossible to realize.

Finally, E1 embodies two opposing principles: for Israelis, a "managed continuity" of control; for Palestinians, a "managed vacuum" of governance. One side gains an uninterrupted corridor of dominance, the other is left with a fragmented territory and diminished prospects for self-determination.

It is no surprise, then, that international reaction was swift and unambiguous from the UN and EU to London and Canberra. Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich, commenting on the launch of E1, said out loud what the maps had already suggested: the project would "bury" the idea of a Palestinian state.

In an August broadcast on i24News, Netanyahu said he feels a "strong connection" to the vision of a "Greater Israel." For Arab capitals this was a confirmation of his strategic maximalism. The military campaign in Gaza and the planning-led expansion in the West Bank aren't two parallel tracks, but parts of a single, integrated agenda. The regional response was swift and uncompromising from Jordanian warnings to collective condemnation from international institutions.

The broader picture reveals deliberate design: In Gaza, forced subjugation without any credible or legitimate "handover of keys"; in the West Bank, a reconfiguration of political geography via E1 and its related projects, translating a diplomatic dispute into the language of roads, zoning, and demography. The language of "temporariness" and "no intention to govern" functions as cover, in practice, the temporary hardens into permanence, and control becomes institutionalized as the new normal.

As the lines converge in Gaza's shattered neighborhoods, in the planning documents for East Jerusalem, and in statements from Israeli leadership, the space for any negotiated outcome narrows further. What began as a pledge to dismantle Hamas is increasingly functioning as a mechanism to erase the word 'Palestine' from the future map. In this framework, there is no "day after." What exists instead is a carefully prearranged aftermath designed to leave no room for alternatives. The map is drawn before peace is reached, and in the end, it is the map that becomes the decisive argument, not a treaty.

The current military operation, referred to as Gideon's Chariot 2, has not been officially declared an occupation. However, its character on the ground strongly resembles one. IDF armored units have reached Sabra and are engaged in ongoing combat at the Zeitoun junction, a strategic point where fighting has continued for over a week. Military descriptions of these actions as operations on the periphery increasingly resemble the opening phase of a full assault on Gaza City. In the last 24 hours, the pattern has only intensified. Artillery and airstrikes have been systematically clearing eastern and northern districts, including Zeitoun, Shuja'iyya, Sabra, and Jabalia, in preparation for armored and infantry advances.

The military effort is now reinforced by a large-scale mobilization of personnel. A phased conscription has been approved. The main wave, composed of 60,000 reservists, is expected to report by September 2, with additional groups to follow through the fall and winter. This is not a tactical raid but a prolonged urban combat campaign that will be measured not by military markers on a map but by the ability to sustain logistical flow and personnel rotations under intense conditions.

Diplomatic efforts are unfolding alongside the military campaign. On August 18, Hamas, through Egyptian and Qatari intermediaries, agreed to the outline of a ceasefire known as the Witkoff Plan. It proposes a 60-day pause, the release of ten living hostages, and the return of the remains of eighteen others in exchange for Israeli actions concerning Palestinian detainees and humanitarian access. The Israeli government has not officially agreed to the plan and insists that all hostages must be included. Nonetheless, Hamas's offer is already being used by Israel as leverage. It serves more as a tactical pressure point than a genuine breakthrough.

This context gives meaning to Netanyahu's latest directive calling for a shortened timeline to capture Hamas's remaining strongholds. The accelerated ground campaign aims to pressure Hamas into making broader concessions under the framework of the proposed deal. If Hamas refuses, Israel will present a forceful seizure of Gaza City as a justified action to its domestic audience.

Observers close to the government interpret the strategy in exactly these terms. The objective is not only to dismantle Hamas's infrastructure but also to escalate the stakes and force a binary choice between a truce on Israeli terms and a full military entry into the city. Even the most carefully designed military strategy eventually confronts the same dilemma: the challenge of the day after. Without a legitimate mandate and without a coherent administrative framework, even a tactical victory risks resulting in a managed vacuum. In such a scenario, control shifts hands on the map, but the underlying threat remains unresolved.

Ideology also plays a central role in shaping this campaign. In August, Netanyahu publicly affirmed his strong personal identification with the vision of the Promised Land and Greater Israel. This statement provoked strong reactions in Arab capitals and further discredited Israel's narrative that it seeks to control Gaza without governing it. The on-the-ground reality is more complex and sobering. After nearly two years of conflict, the IDF has not eliminated the threat. It has suffered significant losses, and there is no clear consensus within the officer corps on launching another ground offensive in Gaza.

According to reports by Israeli media, Israel's top military leadership had warned that a complete takeover of Gaza would come with heavy casualties and heightened risks to hostages. For this reason, earlier operations deliberately avoided areas where hostages were likely being held. Leaked assessments suggest that the General Staff had proposed a strategy centered on encircling Gaza City and applying incremental pressure over time. However, the political leadership opted instead for speed and direct assault. The casualties already number in the hundreds, and major urban combat has yet to begin.

The domestic opposition has made its stance clear. After a security briefing, opposition leader Yair Lapid stated that a new occupation of Gaza would be a grave mistake and one for which Israel would pay a high price. Pressure on the government is mounting both internally, through weekly demonstrations demanding a hostage deal, and externally. Countries such as France, the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia, and Malta are preparing to take steps toward recognizing Palestinian statehood at the United Nations General Assembly in September. In the language of international diplomacy, this move signals a counterbalance to both Hamas's hardline stance and Israel's rightward territorial ambitions. The more forcefully Israel insists on capturing Gaza at all costs, the stronger the global response becomes in favor of formalizing Palestine's status.

However, the situation now transcends local dynamics. Against the backdrop of worldwide instability, including regional conflicts, disrupted global trade routes and rising geopolitical risk, the Gaza campaign increasingly appears to be part of a broader, long-term war of attrition. Within Israel's strategic thinking, the ultimate objective seems to be the closure of the Palestinian question altogether. This entails dismantling all political structures and actors that might, in any combination, threaten Israeli security. Under this logic, humanitarian consequences are not considered constraints.

A recent UN report illustrates the magnitude of the crisis. For the first time, the Food and Agriculture Organization officially declared catastrophic hunger in Gaza, reaching the fifth and highest level of the Integrated Food Security Classification, or IPC. By the end of September, more than 640,000 people are expected to face total food deprivation. Yet even this alarming assessment has not shifted the current trajectory. Western European declarations of intent to recognize Palestinian statehood have also failed to become decisive turning points.

Israel now faces a rare and difficult crossroads. One path leads through diplomacy. It includes a 60-day pause, an initial exchange of captives, and a broader acknowledgment that lasting security is achieved not only through military force, but also through institutions, legal rights, and legitimacy. The other path leads into a renewed spiral of urban warfare. It involves the deployment of more reservists, increasingly severe military orders, and objectives that grow less clearly defined with each passing day. In Sabra, the physical tracks of tanks are already visible before any clear political statement has been made. Ultimately, though, the outcome will be determined not by battlefield reports, but by legal, diplomatic, and institutional formulas. These will decide whether the fall of Gaza marks the end of the war or simply the beginning of a new chapter.

As assault plans are finalized, mobilization lists expand, and ideological rhetoric intensifies, the sense of inevitability grows stronger. This operation resembles less an isolated campaign and more a component of a much longer-term project to reconfigure geography and status. If that logic continues to dominate, the day after will already be written, and it will allow no room for alternatives. In that scenario, the map will carry more weight than any agreement. Facts on the ground will become the ultimate authority, overshadowing diplomatic recognitions, international reports, and humanitarian data alike.