Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto’s plan to bring 2,000 war victims from Gaza to Pulau Galang, an island in Indonesia’s Riau Islands province just south of Singapore, for medical treatment is being hailed by his supporters as a bold act of solidarity. The former COVID-19 isolation facility in Batam, with its hospital beds and ready-made housing, would be repurposed as a safe haven for the wounded and traumatised.
It is a gesture rich in symbolism and dangerously thin on practicality.
The journey from Gaza to Batam is over 8,000 kilometers. Evacuating patients in fragile condition across such distances is not just costly but medically risky. The most urgent care is best delivered nearby, in Egypt, Jordan, or other regional facilities, where transit times are short and the strain on patients minimal. Indonesia’s offer, while emotionally stirring, is a slow, complex intervention that risks doing less good than intended.
Scale is another problem. Even if all 2,000 arrive in Galang — a logistical feat in itself — this represents only a fraction of Gaza’s more than two million residents suffering under siege and bombardment. The initiative, though generous, risks becoming a well-publicised drop in a humanitarian ocean, drawing focus away from more impactful actions.
And the most meaningful actions are not medical evacuations but political ones. The suffering in Gaza is the product of an entrenched occupation, repeated military assaults, and an international system unwilling to enforce accountability. Indonesia holds valuable diplomatic capital — as a G20 member, as a respected Muslim-majority democracy, and as a nation with a long tradition of non-aligned activism. That influence is far better spent on sustained political pressure: calling for a ceasefire and an end to the blockade, pushing for Israel’s accountability, and rallying global consensus for a longer-term resolution, such as a one-state solution.
READ: Indonesia to treat 2,000 injured Gazans on Galang island
There is also a geopolitical hazard embedded in this plan. Critics fear that transferring Palestinians out of Gaza, even temporarily, risks aligning with Israel’s demographic strategy — a slow-motion removal of Palestinians from their homeland. History shows that once displaced, Palestinians almost never return. No matter the official assurances that this care is temporary, the precedent it sets is troubling.
Smith Alhadar, a leading Middle East analyst, warns that hosting Palestinians abroad could inadvertently serve Benjamin Netanyahu’s interests, enabling a de facto depopulation of Gaza. Siti Mutiah Setiawati of Universitas Gadjah Mada calls the plan inefficient and politically risky.
True solidarity with Palestine does not require flying a handful of wounded halfway around the world. It could mean rebuilding hospitals in Gaza, funding and staffing facilities in its border regions where patients can be treated quickly. It could mean partnering with Arab states to expand and upgrade medical centers in Rafah, Cairo, and Amman. It could mean using Indonesia’s diplomatic reach to push for enforceable international action against violations of humanitarian law. And it could mean championing a one-state solution that guarantees equal rights and ends the cycle of displacement.
These strategies may lack the dramatic imagery of a welcoming ceremony at the hospital in Galang, but they strike at the root of Gaza’s suffering rather than skimming its surface. Humanitarianism must be both compassionate and strategic; otherwise, it risks being reduced to a performance.
The stakes in Gaza are existential. The choice before Indonesia is whether to be remembered as a nation that provided a temporary refuge for a lucky few, or one that leveraged its moral and diplomatic power to help secure a just, lasting peace. The former may win headlines; the latter could help change history.
In moments like this, symbols are easy. Solutions are harder — and far more necessary.
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The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.








