In normal times, bureaucracy might be understood as a necessary evil for organizing work and protecting institutions. However, in times of disasters and wars, bureaucracy transforms from an organizing tool into a stifling tool, and from an administrative procedure into a decision that affects life itself. Here, the controversy arises over the role of the Bank of Palestine, not only as a financial institution, but also as a national and moral actor in one of the most cruel moments in modern Palestinian history.
In Gaza, where there is siege, destruction, and the collapse of the basics of life, the bank is not seen as a neutral entity. Money is not a luxury, but a means of survival: medicine, food, displacement, or a desperate attempt to restore what is left of life. However, people’s needs collide with a wall of procedures: restrictions on withdrawal, complications in transfers, lack of liquidity, and ready-made justifications in the name of “regulations” and “technical conditions.” In addition to the complexities of opening accounts for those who were forced to leave the Gaza Strip as a result of the ongoing war in the Gaza Strip.
We add here several testimonies from Palestinian citizens from inside and outside Gaza, including the elderly and sick, who unanimously agreed that the Bank of Palestine has now stood side by side with the Israeli occupation in placing difficulties and obstacles in front of them and restricting their use of their bank accounts at the Bank of Palestine.
The problem is not in the existence of banking rules, but in sanctifying them even when they lose their human meaning. When literal adherence to procedure becomes more important than the life of a trapped person, bureaucracy becomes like a knife at people’s throats: it does not spill blood directly, but applies pressure slowly, leaving the victim with no choice.
The bank may say that it operates within imposed restrictions, and that it is neither a political authority nor a relief agency. This is partly true. But it is also true that national institutions are measured in crises, not in annual statements. The bank is asked here:
Did he try to be part of the solution?
Did he use what margin he had – no matter how narrow – to relieve people?
Did he create humanitarian exceptions, or did he just explain the reasons for the deficit?
In moments like these, people don’t ask for the impossible. They do not ask for the collapse of the banking system, but rather for the victory of human logic over administrative inertia. They ask to feel that there is an institution that stands with them, not above them, and that money – no matter how scarce – is not used as an additional tool of pressure on an already oppressed people.
The Bank of Palestine remaining confined to the category of “adherence to procedures” only places it in a dangerous gray position: it is not an enemy, but it is also not a support. In the Palestinian context, this position is morally inexcusable.
The conclusion is not an invitation to attack, but rather to review. History does not record the number of completed transactions, but rather records where institutions stood when their conscience was tested. Gaza today is not a financial test, but rather a humanitarian test par excellence
التاريخ 25-1-2026
