Almost six months have passed since Issa Saliba boarded a bus in Gaza with 15 other Christians to seek safety in Egypt. But he still relishes how they sang, clapped, and danced as they escaped devastation.
The air conditioning cooled his nerves, frayed from the harrowing journey to the border. Later that day, the wayside stop provided his first full meal.
As 1.9 million Palestinians—90 percent of Gaza’s population—remain internally displaced, less known is that 100,000 have managed to take refuge in Egypt. Saliba, allowed to depart because he is enrolled at the American University of Madaba in Jordan, left behind his father, two younger brothers, and the hundreds of other Christians remaining in the war-torn Mediterranean strip.
Saliba’s trip in April took him south along the damaged, dusty coastal road through Israeli checkpoints to the Rafah crossing. Then came a six-hour ride to Cairo. Saliba got out just in time: In May, Israel took control of Rafah’s Philadelphi Corridor and closed the border. The 8-mile-long strip of land remains a key sticking point in current negotiations over a ceasefire.
But from the first days of the Israel-Hamas war, the Egyptian government has resisted overtures to resettle displaced Palestinians in the adjacent Sinai Peninsula. Wary of terrorist infiltration but also fearful Israel will permanently refuse refugee reentry to Gaza, Egypt limited entry to people with medical emergencies, the financial means to pay up to thousands of dollars in fees, and international educational connections, like Saliba.
Evangelicals, though, are becoming known for giving food and supplies to refugees, whether Christian or Muslim. The Egyptian church, partnering with like-minded Palestinians, has even sent aid into Gaza for the believers huddled for safety in churches, as well as thousands of others displaced from their homes in makeshift camp communities.
“We show the love of God to everyone,” said Samuel Adel, chairman of the pastoral, outreach, and missions council of the Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Egypt, also called Synod of the Nile. “When people ask why, we tell them it comes from our love of Jesus.”
Soon after the Israel-Hamas war began on October 7, aid to refugees began under the leadership of Hanna Maher, an Egyptian Presbyterian pastor who formerly led Gaza Baptist Church. While most Palestinian Christians traveled onward to Cairo, Muslims settled primarily in the Mediterranean towns in and around Arish, about 30 miles west of Rafah.
The synod is displaying Christian charity by giving weekly food parcels to 50 Muslim families. An additional 20 families received fans with which to endure the oppressive heat. Seven families received essential household supplies like refrigerators, washing machines, and cooking equipment. And the synod gave eight wheelchairs to government hospitals to ease transport of the wounded to specialized medical centers in the humanitarian area designated for Palestinians.
Sinai was once a hotbed for terrorism—100 Christian families fled in 2017.
But some Muslims’ attitudes have changed. Maher’s local Muslim driver, impressed that the church has done so much to help, doesn’t charge Maher for rides. The driver has told several new families: These are Christians, coming to help you.
And sometimes Maher is invited into discussion about whom to blame for the devastation of Gaza—Israel or Hamas. He replies with what Jesus said in the Gospel of John about a man who was born blind. When asked if the sin that caused the blindness came from the man or his parents, Jesus answered, “neither;” the blindness was so “the works of God might be displayed in him” (9:3).
But Maher struggles to know how to further counsel the Gazan displaced.
“We pray for peace, but I don’t know what to say about this terrible war,” he said. “‘God is with us,’ I tell them—but it is difficult; I don’t have an answer beyond this truth.”
The Egyptian government has allowed Christian humanitarian efforts, but the refugee presence is politically sensitive. Egyptian leaders remember how Palestinians who fled from Israel to Jordan, Lebanon, and Syria in the 1948 and 1967 wars never returned home. Officials have categorically rejected the permanent settling of Gazan refugees in Egypt. Israel will not accept the displaced in its territory either.
Israel and Egypt jointly imposed a blockade on Gaza in 2007. Prior to 2011, Egypt’s government unofficially tolerated a network of Gaza-Egypt tunnels but has since destroyed thousands. Despite Egyptian denials, Israel stated that smuggling continues and links its control of Rafah to ongoing ceasefire negotiations.
But beyond the political and security concerns, humanitarian needs of the displaced do not fall under official United Nations refugee jurisdiction. Yet whether through the church, diverse grassroots initiatives, or other UN agencies, assistance is available.
Assistance is more difficult in Gaza. This summer, Egyptian Christians have worked in conjunction with Christian Mission for Gaza (CMG) to provide meals for over 15,000 Muslims in Deir al-Balah, Khan Younis, Jabaliya, and the Remal neighborhood of Gaza City. Residents have lined up with bowls and tins to receive ladlefuls of yellow rice, often heated over makeshift fires in metallic vats. Sometimes they get canned vegetables, and very rarely, chicken.
During last month’s distribution, children beamed while receiving the latter in tinfoil-wrapped portions. Black-robed women in headscarves extended their hands through tent openings to receive the same.
The Gaza-born former pastor of the Baptist church, Hanna Massad, serving prior to Maher, founded CMG in 1999. An Israeli missile flattened his family’s home in the Remal neighborhood, which took ten years for his father to build in the 1960s. Aware that most Gazans believe a “Christian West” is selling bombs to Israel, Massad said he wants his former neighbors “to know there are Christians who care—and are helping them.”
CMG has also distributed bread fifteen times in various areas and clean water five times. At each location, posted signs flap in the wind: From Gaza Baptist and the Presbyterian Church in Egypt. Many Muslims have offered thanks to their “brothers” for caring about their needs, and one even made the sign of the cross. Others have asked how they can learn more about the faith.
“People in Gaza have begun to see the true light, but they need guidance,” he said. “So I pray that the situation here will change after this war and that there will be a space to work freely with these people.”
About 200 of the 1,000 Christians who were living in Gaza before the war have since fled to Egypt, Massad estimated. Many have already received visas to Australia, and more are likely to emigrate as soon as they can.
Saliba, waiting in Cairo, prays for the Gazan Christians who remain.
“I thank God I was able to leave Gaza,” he said. “Jesus was with me every step of the way. Now I just want my family to join me.”