The Reopening of the Rafah Crossing and the Gaza Ceasefire Process: A Humanitarian Window More Symbolic Than Substantial

In early February 2026, after more than two years of war and months of negotiations, the Rafah border crossing connecting the southern Gaza Strip to Egypt's Sinai Peninsula finally reopened. Palestinian officials described it as a window of hope amid the ruins of war, and the move was also seen as a key step forward in advancing the fragile ceasefire agreement. However, data and on-site conditions from the first week of opening painted a different picture: according to United Nations statistics, only 36 Palestinians in urgent need of medical treatment and their 62 accompanying personnel were able to leave in the first four days, while the waiting list numbered close to 20,000. Shortly after opening, the crossing was closed again on February 6 and 7 (Friday and Saturday). This highly anticipated reopening resembled more of a tightly monitored, extremely low-flow pilot operation, underpinned by intertwined factors: Israel's security obsessions, Egypt's geopolitical considerations, the struggle for survival among Palestinians, and the real-world challenges facing the precarious ceasefire agreement.

The Micro-reality of Port Operations: Stringent Control and Symbolic Flow

The Rafah Crossing is not an ordinary border passage. Since the Israeli military fully occupied and took control of the crossing in May 2024, it has become the sole external lifeline for Gaza's 2.3 million population not under direct Israeli administration. This reopening is based on strict restrictions agreed upon by Israeli, Egyptian, Palestinian Authority, and international officials: the agreement stipulates that only 50 individuals are allowed to return to Gaza per day, and 50 medical patients (each accompanied by up to two caregivers) are permitted to leave. However, the actual operation has fallen far short of these targets.

The operational details reveal the severity of control. Taking Monday, February 2 as an example, the Israeli side approved 71 patients and their escorts to leave and 46 Palestinians to enter. However, due to the World Health Organization being able to coordinate transport vehicles for only 12 people inside Gaza, ultimately only 12 individuals were able to make the journey. Israeli officials then insisted on a "one-in, one-out" principle, resulting in only 12 people being allowed to enter Gaza from Egypt that day, while the remaining 34 had to spend the night waiting on the Egyptian side of the border. The following day, the flow increased to 40 people in each direction, but the process was severely delayed due to oversized luggage (the agreement prohibits carrying liquids such as water, perfume, and cigarettes) and cumbersome inspections. Palestinians returning to Gaza underwent prolonged interrogations. The case of Lana Luhe is representative: she returned after fleeing Gaza for two years, claiming that Israeli interrogators questioned her for over six hours, during which she was blindfolded, handcuffed, and repeatedly asked why she wanted to return to Gaza, which belongs to Israel. Although the Israel Defense Forces responded that they were unaware of any misconduct, Ajith Sunghay, head of the UN Human Rights Office in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, pointed out that there is a consistent pattern of abuse, humiliation, and degradation by the Israeli military.

These micro-level realities indicate that the opening of the crossing is essentially a controlled opening maintained by Israeli security agencies (via Shin Bet and COGAT, which is responsible for civil coordination) through remote screening and cumbersome procedures after physically withdrawing a certain distance. For nearly 20,000 Gazans in urgent need of medical treatment abroad, the daily quota of just a few dozen spots is nothing more than a drop in the bucket. From a strategic perspective, by controlling the flow and screening procedures, Israel formally responds to international pressure to open humanitarian corridors while effectively preventing the security risks and political impacts that could arise from large-scale population movements.

Strategic Maneuvering Among Parties: Security, Sovereignty, and Ceasefire Leverage

The reopening of the Rafah crossing is by no means a purely humanitarian arrangement, but rather a focal point of intense strategic interest competition among multiple parties. Each side is leveraging this crossing as a lever to achieve its own political objectives.

For the Netanyahu government in Israel, controlling the Rafah crossing is a core element of its post-war planning in Gaza. Israel's strategic objectives have consistently included completely eradicating Hamas's military capabilities, preventing weapons smuggling, and ensuring absolute security control over the entry and exit points into Gaza. Opening the crossing while strictly limiting the flow is a gesture of flexibility shown by Israel in ceasefire negotiations, while also not relinquishing security dominance. Analysts point out that Netanyahu faces significant political pressure domestically, with the right-wing coalition demanding a firm control over Gaza. Any move perceived as a concession to Hamas could trigger a government crisis. Therefore, packaging the opening of the crossing as a pilot project and setting up numerous obstacles can both address calls from allies like the United States to improve the humanitarian situation and placate domestic hawkish factions. The one-to-one release principle and meticulous luggage inspections insisted upon by the Israeli side are precisely a microcosmic reflection of this absolute security mindset.

Egypt's role is more complex and crucial. As the only Arab country bordering Gaza, Egypt has played an indispensable role as a mediator and border manager in all previous Israeli-Palestinian conflicts. According to an interview with political analyst Maher Safi by Arabic media, Egypt resisted pressure and insisted that the crossing must be opened in both directions, not just allowing people to leave Gaza unilaterally. This reflects Cairo's clear strategic considerations: preventing a large-scale exodus of Gaza's population into the Sinai Peninsula, avoiding a permanent refugee crisis, and thereby safeguarding Egypt's national security and sovereignty. Egypt insists that Israel comply with the October 2025 Sharm El-Sheikh agreement, which allows 600 aid trucks to enter Gaza daily, but Israel has not fully implemented it. By controlling the physical opening and closing of the crossing and negotiating the terms, Egypt not only demonstrates its indispensability as a regional power but also attempts to balance supporting Palestinian humanitarian needs with maintaining its own border stability.

For Hamas and the Palestinian Authority, the opening of the Rafah crossing holds both political and symbolic significance. On one hand, it represents a tangible achievement from the ceasefire negotiations, offering slight relief to the public's sense of despair. On the other hand, the extremely limited flow of passage exposes their powerlessness in the face of Israel's absolute control. Palestinian officials refer to the crossing as a window of hope, yet the size of the window and the authority to open or close it are not in their own hands.

The profound impact on the ceasefire process and the post-war landscape.

The arduous steps in reopening the Rafah crossing directly reflect the fragility of the current Gaza ceasefire agreement and raise severe questions about future post-war arrangements.

First, it undermines the credibility and sustainability of the ceasefire agreement. The core conditions for ceasefire negotiations typically include: the release of detained individuals, partial withdrawal of Israeli troops, and significant improvement of the humanitarian situation in Gaza. As the most critical humanitarian corridor, the nominal opening of the Rafah crossing greatly diminishes the appeal of the ceasefire agreement for the people of Gaza. If even critically ill patients in urgent need of medical care struggle to leave, the practical benefits that the ceasefire brings to ordinary civilians will be widely questioned. This provides Hamas or other factions with grounds to refuse extending the ceasefire or resume military actions in the future. In fact, around the time the crossing reopened, Israeli military operations continued, resulting in casualties among hundreds of Palestinians, further eroding the fragile mutual trust.

Secondly, the operational model of the port foreshadows Israel's envisioned post-war security architecture for Gaza. Israel clearly has no intention of fully returning control of the port to the Palestinian Authority or a third party. The current arrangement—where the EU mission and Palestinian officials handle daily port operations, but Israel maintains inspection stations in the rear—could become the prototype for a long-term model: nominally non-Israeli management, but with Israel retaining remote security veto power. If this model solidifies, it would mean that even after the war, Gaza's vital lifeline to the outside world would remain in Israel's hands, making so-called reconstruction of Gaza impossible. Within Netanyahu's government, there are voices advocating for the permanent relocation of Gaza's residents and the reduction of Gaza's actual controlled area to below 40% of its pre-war size. The strict control of the Rafah crossing is one of the means to prevent population return and promote de facto downsizing.

Finally, this tests the international community's capacity for supervision and guarantees. The presence of the EU delegation on the ground and the statistical data from UN agencies, while documenting the facts, have not been able to alter Israel's control rules. As Israel's primary ally and a key promoter of the ceasefire agreement, whether and to what extent the United States is willing to exert pressure to encourage Israel to transform pilot projects into truly unimpeded humanitarian corridors will be a crucial indicator for observing whether the ceasefire agreement can progress to the next stage. Currently, the pressure from the international community has not yet translated into a substantial increase in the flow of goods through the crossings.

The slowly opening and frequently closing gate at the Rafah crossing reflects the full complexity of the Gaza dilemma: the conflict between humanitarian needs and security logic, the contradiction between sovereignty claims and the reality of occupation, and the vast gap between short-term ceasefires and long-term political solutions. When Sihem Omran, after 20 months of separation, finally returned to Gaza and squeezed into a tent accommodating 15 people with her family, using a shirt as a pillow, her exclamation—"Thank God we have returned to our homeland, home, and native land"—was filled with indescribable sorrow. The physical opening of the crossing can be achieved through negotiations, but the path for Gaza toward true freedom, security, and dignity remains blocked by numerous barriers, with a bleak and uncertain future. This restart, carried out in the name of humanity, may ultimately reveal the profound depth and breadth of how elusive peace truly is.