A Gaza father’s desperate search for his son’s body

GAZA CITY — Yusef al-Zaharnah’s eyes fell on the digger’s bucket, its claws digging through the rubble; He hoped that his new burden would end nine months of grueling uncertainty and enable him to grieve fully.

After unloading, Al-Zaharnah, a portly, tired-looking 56-year-old, climbed over the debris and bent down for a closer look. But his investigation revealed only crushed walls; no bones, no sign of his son or any of the others killed with him.

“If I see even a small piece, whether it belongs to my son or someone else, at least they can eventually be buried,” Al-Zaharnah said as he returned to his spot next to the excavator to wait for the next load and continue his search.

Al-Zaharnah’s grief journey began in October, when an Israeli missile destroyed the five-story building in Gaza City where her family was sheltered with others during Israel’s war against Hamas militants.

More than 40 people were killed in the airstrike, including his three sons: Munther, 31; Mutaz, 26; and Abdul Karim, 21.

He managed to exhume the bodies of Munther and Abdülkerim in the first days after the airstrike and buried them next to another son, Munir, 28, who died in the Israeli attack in June 2025.

However, Mutaz was still missing; It was impossible to reach his body without the recently introduced heavy machinery.

“All I want is to bury my son next to his brothers,” Al-Zaharnah said in a quiet voice as he looked at the excavator.

For Gaza Civil Defense forces, Al-Zaharnah’s family represents a small part of a much larger crisis. Authorities estimate that more than 8,500 bodies (other experts suggest the figure is closer to 14,000) are trapped under 61.5 million tons of rubble in the Palestinian territory; This figure is nearly 20 times the amount produced by conflicts around the world since 2008.

Civil Defense spokesman Mahmoud al-Basal said rescuing them from one of the most devastated places on earth (the United Nations says more than 80 percent of buildings have been damaged or destroyed) with meager resources on hand was a frustratingly mammoth task.

“Civil Defense receives dozens of calls every day from families asking if we can search under the rubble of their homes to find their loved ones,” Al-Basal said.

“For the families, the casualties are not gone; they are still buried under rubble and waiting to be found. This is one of the least visible but most devastating humanitarian emergencies of the conflict,” he said.

The war began on October 7, 2023, when Hamas-led militants killed 1,200 people in southern Israel (two-thirds of them civilians, according to Israeli officials) and took 251 hostage.

Gaza’s Health Ministry said Israel retaliated with a massive military offensive that killed more than 73,000 Palestinians, about half of whom were women and children. (The ministry is part of the Hamas-led authority in the Gaza Strip, but that number, which does not distinguish between civilians and combatants, is considered accurate by the UN, medical experts and the Israeli military.)

Human rights organizations, including the UN, humanitarian experts and Israeli groups, accuse Israel of committing genocide in its operations in Gaza; Israel denies this accusation, saying its attacks are aimed at destroying Hamas.

During the war, body search operations were largely halted as the death toll rose in the region; this was either because most heavy equipment had been destroyed, fuel had become scarce, or many attack sites had become inaccessible due to fighting.

Even after the ceasefire came into force on October 10, 2025, it was difficult to continue searches as more than 80% of Civil Defense equipment was destroyed.

Although the first phase of the Trump-brokered ceasefire stipulated the free entry of debris removal equipment, Israel has greatly restricted the entry of excavators, bulldozers and cranes. (Last year, a Hamas official said Israel had allowed in only six of the 500 excavators and other heavy machinery needed.)

This forced rescue teams to rely on a few privately owned excavators, which Israel also restricts, which frequently break down due to lack of spare parts and fuel.

Israel says major rehabilitation work will not begin until Hamas is disarmed and says the construction equipment has dual uses and could serve military purposes.

Meanwhile, Israeli attacks have decreased but not completely, with attacks resulting in the deaths of at least 1,072 people almost every day since the ceasefire came into force. Israel says it is targeting Hamas and other militants to stop any threat.

In late June, support from the International Committee of the Red Cross allowed Civil Defense to continue rescue efforts for a limited number of hours in approved areas, following coordination with the Israeli army. The result was a single, completely unbeatable excavator that arrived on the mountain of masonry that is Al-Zaharnah’s home, where Mutaz and at least six others are still interred.

The attack that killed him took place on the evening of October 9, one day before the ceasefire came into force.

“We were all waiting,” Al-Zaharnah recalled. “If the ceasefire had only been a few hours away, no one would have wanted to move.”

As the sounds of fighting grew louder nearby, Al-Zaharnah decided to leave with his wife and youngest son. Their older children and families were left behind.

“There was no evacuation order,” Al-Zaharnah said. “No warning. There wasn’t anywhere safe for them to go anyway.”

When the missile arrived, the explosion destroyed the building so much that many victims could not immediately be identified. Rescuers did their best; shovels, hoes, pickaxes and bare hands. With the force of the explosion, human remains were spread over a wide area.

“In the early days, we were collecting bodies; we were collecting parts,” Al-Zaharnah said. They used stray dogs, hoping they would eventually be able to detect the scent of the meat.

After that, when the impossibility of saving anyone else became clear, Al-Zaharnah and others continued to hope that international organizations would persuade Israel to allow more construction equipment, but to little avail.

On the day Al-Zaharnah watched the excavation, crews were working at an agonizingly slow pace, peeling away flat layers of the building one by one.

“This is the third day we’ve done this,” Al-Zaharnah said, standing next to the excavator.

“Maybe we’ll need another one.”

The passage of time has further increased the difficulty of finding, let alone identifying, victims. Those that have not been cleaned have decomposed to the point that DNA analysis is difficult and nearly useless in Gaza, where there is no functioning laboratory that can test and compare samples.

Clothing or accessories that can be used to identify your loved one may be burned or torn. And the methods for recovering the bodies are so crude that they destroy what they seek; It’s a thought that haunts Al-Zaharnah again and again.

“I wonder if the excavator will disintegrate what remains of Mutaz’s body if they find him now?” I wonder. he said. He added that his only biggest fear was never finding his son.

Gaza authorities say they have recovered 784 bodies since the ceasefire began, according to a June report by the Palestinian news agency Wafa. In October, authorities established a cemetery in the city of Deir al-Balah to bury unidentified bodies recovered from around the area. Details of the bodies are documented and graves are numbered so family members can return and retrieve them.

Mutaz’s body has not been found yet.

Special correspondent Shbeir reported from Gaza City and Times newspaper writer Bulos from Beirut.