A Labour government should offer more than hypopricsy and broken promises to suffering young people.
After months of moral contortions, Prime Minister Keir Starmer has said that his government would recognise a Palestinian state sometime within this parliament. Not today, not tomorrow, but soon, well, soon-ish. The announcement notably came with a heavy dose of “unless Israel” – grounding the position of the UK firmly in the realm of theory.
But the timing of this rhetorical pivot is not coincidental. It follows a second, more immediate shift: the UK’s announcement that it will evacuate over 100 critically ill and injured Palestinian children from Gaza to receive NHS treatment. A move campaigners, medics and charities such as ours have long demanded and one that arrives months – indeed, years, too late.
Still, after months in which Gaza’s children suffered under a siege in which starvation was strategy not side effect – whilst the British government clung to the safety of ambiguity – this feels like movement. Movement graded on a curve set by years of inaction. For Gaza’s children, many of whom my colleagues at Children Not Numbers have been treating, it’s less a breakthrough and more an indication that Britain may potentially, maybe, consider a late delivery on a stack of broken promises.
As the situation begins to spiral out of control, Gaza’s children are making a stand.
S and S are among three critically ill children at the centre of a potential landmark legal challenge against the UK government. The two siblings are suffering from cystinosis – a rare, progressive disorder that severely damages kidney function. Amidst Israel’s all out assault on healthcare facilities, the medication they urgently need is entirely unavailable in Gaza; without it, both face complete renal failure. Their case demonstrates that the government’s rationale for denying medical evacuations – a preference for supporting treatment on the ground, is no longer tenable.
Last month, with the support of Children Not Numbers, the siblings decided to act. The children initiated legal proceedings, sending a pre-action letter to the Foreign Secretary and Home Secretary. This marks the first formal attempt to hold the British state accountable for failing to establish a medical evacuation pathway for children in Gaza. The letter argues that ministers have breached their Tameside duty of inquiry – a legal requirement to properly inform themselves before making decisions – by failing to seriously assess the overwhelming evidence of medical necessity and humanitarian urgency before choosing inaction.
Like so many others facing down a complex life-threatening condition, both brothers are malnourished.
Since the blockade began in mid-March 2025, we’ve recorded a 30 per cent increase in the death rate amongst children under our care. Alongside this devastating development, starvation is spreading like wildfire through the besieged enclave, leading to 70 per cent of the children we treat now being at risk of malnutrition. The crippling hunger gripping Gaza’s children means the UK cannot afford to wait a moment longer.
The shame is in the contrast: while the UK moved at lightning pace to welcome Ukrainian medical evacuees in 2022, Gaza’s children have been met with bureaucratic fog and political equivocation. This disparity is now under legal scrutiny – the law, unlike politics, has a low tolerance for hypocrisy.
If in Starmer’s statehood plans, peace, even an unjust peace, can delay recognition, the legal challenge brought by the three children suggests the inverse might also be true: that properly filed paperwork can force principle to the surface.
Questions abound as to the precise details of the proposed pathway and the question of recognition is likewise, up in the air. Officials say they’ll assess “progress” in September, which is Westminster-speak for: the red lines are written in pencil. One thing is certain, the ministerial press releases and soundbites that have long been failing Gaza’s children are now failing the Prime Minister.
Instagram humanitarianism will no longer suffice amidst the mounting legal challenges and hefty political premium on inaction. With Gaza’s hospitals in ruins and its children starving on camera, the dam is cracking. The moral ambiguity that once cloaked our policy in the fine mist of “complexity” is evaporating under the glare of mass civilian suffering.
What we’re left with is not just a humanitarian crisis, but a mirror: reflecting a British foreign policy that has, for years, outsourced its ethics to perceived strategic interests, PR management and the enduring fiction that some human lives are worth less than others.
