Israel Returns to War in Gaza with Wider Aims and Almost No Constraints 

An Israeli tank maneuvers inside Gaza, in front of destroyed buildings, as viewed from the Israel-Gaza border, March 20, 2025. (Reuters)
An Israeli tank maneuvers inside Gaza, in front of destroyed buildings, as viewed from the Israel-Gaza border, March 20, 2025. (Reuters)
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Israel Returns to War in Gaza with Wider Aims and Almost No Constraints 

An Israeli tank maneuvers inside Gaza, in front of destroyed buildings, as viewed from the Israel-Gaza border, March 20, 2025. (Reuters)
An Israeli tank maneuvers inside Gaza, in front of destroyed buildings, as viewed from the Israel-Gaza border, March 20, 2025. (Reuters)

Israel's renewed military offensive in the Gaza Strip threatens to be even deadlier and more destructive than the last, as it pursues wider aims with far fewer constraints.

Israel resumed the war with a surprise bombardment early Tuesday that killed hundreds of Palestinians, ending the ceasefire and vowing even more devastation if Hamas doesn't release its remaining hostages and leave the territory.

President Donald Trump has expressed full support for the renewed offensive and suggested last month that Gaza's 2 million Palestinians be resettled in other countries. Iran-backed armed groups allied with Hamas are in disarray.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's coalition is stronger than ever, and there are fewer hostages inside Gaza than at any point since Hamas ignited the war with its Oct. 7, 2023, attack, which gives Israel's military more freedom to act.

It all suggests that the war's next phase could be more brutal than the last, in which tens of thousands of Palestinians were killed, the vast majority of the population was displaced and much of Gaza was bombed to rubble.

“If all the Israeli hostages are not released and Hamas is not expelled from Gaza. Israel will act with an intensity that you have not seen,” Defense Minister Israel Katz said Wednesday.

“Return the hostages and expel Hamas, and other options will open up for you, including going to other places in the world for those who wish. The alternative is complete destruction and devastation.”

Even less US pressure to spare civilians

The Biden administration provided crucial military and diplomatic support to Israel throughout the first 15 months of the war.

But it also tried to limit civilian casualties. In the early days of the war, Biden persuaded Israel to lift a complete siege on Gaza and repeatedly urged it to allow in more humanitarian aid, with mixed results. He opposed Israel's offensive in southern Gaza last May and suspended a weapons shipment in protest, only to see Israel proceed anyway. Biden also worked with Egypt and Qatar to broker the ceasefire through more than a year of negotiations, with Trump's team pushing it over the finish line.

The Trump administration appears to have set no restrictions. It hasn't criticized Israel's decision to once again seal off Gaza, to unilaterally withdrawal from the ceasefire agreement that Trump took credit for, or to carry out strikes that have killed hundreds of men, women and children.

Israel says it only targets fighters and must dismantle Hamas to prevent a repeat of the Oct. 7 attack, when Palestinian gunmen killed roughly 1,200 people, mostly civilians, and took 251 hostages.

The Biden administration voiced doubt about those aims, saying months ago that Hamas was no longer able to carry out such an attack.

The offensive killed more than 48,000 Palestinians before the January ceasefire, according to Gaza's Health Ministry. It does not distinguish between militants and civilians in its count but says more than half of the dead were women and children.

Trump has suggested Gaza be depopulated

Trump appeared to lose interest in the ceasefire weeks ago, when he said it should be canceled if Hamas didn't immediately release all the hostages.

A short-lived White House attempt to negotiate directly with Hamas was abandoned after it angered Israel. Trump's Mideast envoy, Steve Witkoff, then blamed Hamas for the demise of the truce because it didn't accept proposals to immediately release hostages.

Hamas has said it will only release the remaining hostages — its only bargaining chip — in exchange for more Palestinian prisoners, a lasting ceasefire and an Israeli withdrawal from Gaza, as called for in the ceasefire agreement.

Trump, meanwhile, has suggested that Gaza's entire population be transferred to other countries so that the US can take ownership of the territory and rebuild it for others.

Palestinians say they don't want to leave their homeland, and Arab countries roundly rejected the proposal. Human rights experts said it would likely violate international law.

Israel has embraced the proposal and said it is drawing up plans to implement it.

Netanyahu's government is stronger than ever

Netanyahu came under heavy pressure from families and supporters of the hostages to stick with the truce in order to bring their loved ones home. For months, thousands of protesters have regularly gathered in downtown Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, blocked major highways and scuffled with police.

In restarting the war, though, Netanyahu brushed them aside and strengthened his hard-line coalition.

Israel's far-right national security minister, Itamar Ben-Gvir, who resigned to protest the ceasefire, returned to the government shortly after Tuesday's strikes. He and Bezalel Smotrich, another far-right ally of Netanyahu, want to continue the war, depopulate Gaza through what they refer to as voluntary migration, and rebuild Jewish settlements there that Israel removed two decades ago.

Netanyahu has also fired or forced out several top officials who had appeared more open to a hostage deal.

Hamas and its allies are in disarray

Hamas still rules Gaza, but most of its top leaders have been killed and its military capabilities have been vastly depleted. Israel says it has killed some 20,000 fighters — without providing evidence.

In its first attack since Israel ended the ceasefire, Hamas fired three rockets on Thursday that set off air raid sirens in Tel Aviv, without causing casualties.

Lebanon's Hezbollah, which traded fire with Israel throughout much of the war, was forced to accept a truce last fall after Israel's air and ground war killed most of its top leadership and left much of southern Lebanon in ruins. The overthrow of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad removed a key ally and further diminished the armed group.

Iran, which supports Hamas and Hezbollah, and which directly traded fire with Israel twice last year, appears unlikely to intervene. Israel said it inflicted heavy damage on Iran's air defenses in a wave of retaliatory strikes last fall, and Trump has threatened US military action if Iran doesn't negotiate a new agreement on its nuclear program.

The Iran-backed Houthi militias in Yemen have resumed long-range missile fire against Israel, which has rarely caused casualties or serious damage. The US, meanwhile, launched a new wave of strikes on the Houthis, which could further limit their capabilities.

International criticism could be more muted

The first phase of the war sparked worldwide protests, some criticism from European leaders and action at the United Nations. Israel was accused of genocide at the International Court of Justice, and the International Criminal Court issued an arrest warrant for Netanayahu.

This time could be different.

The Trump administration has detained foreign-born pro-Palestinian student activists and others, and threatened to pull billions of dollars in federal funding from universities accused of tolerating antisemitism, making a repeat of last year's US campus protests unlikely.

Europe is already locked in high-stakes disputes with Trump over aid to Ukraine and American tariffs, and appears unlikely to push back on the Middle East.

The US and Israel have adamantly rejected the actions by both international courts, accusing them of bias. Trump signed an executive order in early February imposing sanctions on the ICC, of which neither the United States nor Israel are members.



10 Years after Europe's Migration Crisis, the Fallout Reverberates in Greece and Beyond

File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
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10 Years after Europe's Migration Crisis, the Fallout Reverberates in Greece and Beyond

File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)

Fleeing Iran with her husband and toddler, Amena Namjoyan reached a rocky beach of this eastern Greek island along with hundreds of thousands of others. For months, their arrival overwhelmed Lesbos. Boats fell apart, fishermen dove to save people from drowning, and local grandmothers bottle-fed newly arrived babies.

Namjoyan spent months in an overcrowded camp. She learned Greek. She struggled with illness and depression as her marriage collapsed. She tried to make a fresh start in Germany but eventually returned to Lesbos, the island that first embraced her. Today, she works at a restaurant, preparing Iranian dishes that locals devour, even if they struggle to pronounce the names. Her second child tells her, “‘I’m Greek.’”

“Greece is close to my culture, and I feel good here,” Namjoyan said. “I am proud of myself.”

In 2015, more than 1 million migrants and refugees arrived in Europe — the majority by sea, landing in Lesbos, where the north shore is just 10 kilometers (6 miles) from Türkiye. The influx of men, women and children fleeing war and poverty sparked a humanitarian crisis that shook the European Union to its core. A decade later, the fallout still reverberates on the island and beyond.

For many, Greece was a place of transit. They continued on to northern and western Europe. Many who applied for asylum were granted international protection; thousands became European citizens. Countless more were rejected, languishing for years in migrant camps or living in the streets. Some returned to their home countries. Others were kicked out of the European Union.

For Namjoyan, Lesbos is a welcoming place — many islanders share a refugee ancestry, and it helps that she speaks their language. But migration policy in Greece, like much of Europe, has shifted toward deterrence in the decade since the crisis. Far fewer people are arriving illegally. Officials and politicians have maintained that strong borders are needed. Critics say enforcement has gone too far and violates fundamental EU rights and values.

“Migration is now at the top of the political agenda, which it didn’t use to be before 2015,” said Camille Le Coz Director of the Migration Policy Institute Europe, noting changing EU alliances. “We are seeing a shift toward the right of the political spectrum.”

A humanitarian crisis turned into a political one

In 2015, boat after boat crowded with refugees crashed onto the doorstep of Elpiniki Laoumi, who runs a fish tavern across from a Lesbos beach. She fed them, gave them water, made meals for aid organizations.

“You would look at them and think of them as your own children," said Laoumi, whose tavern walls today are decorated with thank-you notes.

From 2015 to 2016, the peak of the migration crisis, more than 1 million people entered Europe through Greece alone. The immediate humanitarian crisis — to feed, shelter and care for so many people at once — grew into a long-term political one.

Greece was reeling from a crippling economic crisis. The influx added to anger against established political parties, fueling the rise of once-fringe populist forces.

EU nations fought over sharing responsibility for asylum seekers. The bloc’s unity cracked as some member states flatly refused to take migrants. Anti-migration voices calling for closed borders became louder.

Today, illegal migration is down across Europe While illegal migration to Greece has fluctuated, numbers are nowhere near 2015-16 figures, according to the International Organization for Migration. Smugglers adapted to heightened surveillance, shifting to more dangerous routes.

Overall, irregular EU border crossings decreased by nearly 40% last year and continue to fall, according to EU border and coast guard agency Frontex.

That hasn’t stopped politicians from focusing on — and sometimes fearmongering over — migration. This month, the Dutch government collapsed after a populist far-right lawmaker withdrew his party’s ministers over migration policy.

In Greece, the new far-right migration minister has threatened rejected asylum seekers with jail time.

A few miles from where Namjoyan now lives, in a forest of pine and olive trees, is a new EU-funded migrant center. It's one of the largest in Greece and can house up to 5,000 people.

Greek officials denied an Associated Press request to visit. Its opening is blocked, for now, by court challenges.

Some locals say the remote location seems deliberate — to keep migrants out of sight and out of mind.

“We don’t believe such massive facilities are needed here. And the location is the worst possible – deep inside a forest,” said Panagiotis Christofas, mayor of Lesbos’ capital, Mytilene. “We’re against it, and I believe that’s the prevailing sentiment in our community.”

A focus on border security

For most of Europe, migration efforts focus on border security and surveillance.

The European Commission this year greenlighted the creation of “return” hubs — a euphemism for deportation centers — for rejected asylum seekers. Italy has sent unwanted migrants to its centers in Albania, even as that faces legal challenges.

Governments have resumed building walls and boosting surveillance in ways unseen since the Cold War.

In 2015, Frontex was a small administrative office in Warsaw. Now, it's the EU's biggest agency, with 10,000 armed border guards, helicopters, drones and an annual budget of over 1 billion euros.

On other issues of migration — reception, asylum and integration, for example — EU nations are largely divided.

The legacy of Lesbos

Last year, EU nations approved a migration and asylum pact laying out common rules for the bloc's 27 countries on screening, asylum, detention and deportation of people trying to enter without authorization, among other things.

“The Lesbos crisis of 2015 was, in a way, the birth certificate of the European migration and asylum policy,” Margaritis Schinas, a former European Commission vice president and a chief pact architect, told AP.

He said that after years of fruitless negotiations, he's proud of the landmark compromise.

“We didn’t have a system,” Schinas said. “Europe’s gates had been crashed."

The deal, endorsed by the United Nations refugee agency, takes effect next year. Critics say it made concessions to hardliners. Human rights organizations say it will increase detention and erode the right to seek asylum.

Some organizations also criticize the “externalization” of EU border management — agreements with countries across the Mediterranean to aggressively patrol their coasts and hold migrants back in exchange for financial assistance.

The deals have expanded, from Türkiye to the Middle East and across Africa. Human rights groups say autocratic governments are pocketing billions and often subject the displaced to appalling conditions.

Lesbos still sees some migrants arrive Lesbos' 80,000 residents look back at the 2015 crisis with mixed feelings.

Fisherman Stratos Valamios saved some children. Others drowned just beyond his reach, their bodies still warm as he carried them to shore.

“What’s changed from back then to now, 10 years on? Nothing,” he said. “What I feel is anger — that such things can happen, that babies can drown.”

Those who died crossing to Lesbos are buried in two cemeteries, their graves marked as “unknown.”

Tiny shoes and empty juice boxes with faded Turkish labels can still be found on the northern coast. So can black doughnut-shaped inner tubes, given by smugglers as crude life preservers for children. At Moria, a refugee camp destroyed by fire in 2020, children’s drawings remain on gutted building walls.

Migrants still arrive, and sometimes die, on these shores. Lesbos began to adapt to a quieter, more measured flow of newcomers.

Efi Latsoudi, who runs a network helping migrants learn Greek and find jobs, hopes Lesbos’ tradition of helping outsiders in need will outlast national policies.

“The way things are developing, it’s not friendly for newcomers to integrate into Greek society,” Latsoudi said. "We need to do something. ... I believe there is hope.”