Where Is God?” — The Wrong Question in Gaza’s Genocide

Where Is God?” —

As Gaza bleeds, as children starve, as the living walk through cemeteries of their own families, one question echoes across social media, dinner tables, and even shaken hearts: “Where is their God?”

It’s asked not always out of mockery—but often from a place of disbelief, grief, or even broken faith. How can such brutality exist? How can innocent people suffer so much, for so long? And how do they still whisper Alhamdulillah under rubble, still raise their hands in dua, still name their babies “Sabr” and “Sumood” while the world looks away?

But perhaps the question isn’t about God at all. Perhaps the real question is about us—our silence, our complicity, our loss of moral clarity.

Here’s the truth that the world doesn’t want to confront:

The world is watching. Not blindly. Not unknowingly.

With open eyes, high-speed internet, and full clarity. It watches children blown apart, mothers burying pieces of their babies, fathers digging graves with bare hands. It watches families starve, hospitals bombed, prayers interrupted by airstrikes.

It sees an entire population slowly exterminated.

And says nothing.

Or worse—asks for “both sides”.

And in this theatre of brutality, where humanity is disrobed in full view, some still dare to ask:

“Where is their God?”

“Why hasn’t God saved the Palestinians?”

Let’s ask a harder question:

Where is your humanity?

Because theirs never left.

They are surrounded, strangled, starved—yet they share food. Bombed day and night—yet they don’t curse God. Orphans are being made in seconds—yet you hear Alhamdulillah in their mouths. They are not just surviving. They are resisting—not just with stones or slogans, but with unshakable faith. The kind of faith that terrifies tyrants.

Their God is not absent. He is not found in parliaments debating death tolls. He is not present in the silence of the rich or the neutrality of the UN. He is not the god of the comfortable— He is the God of the crushed. The One who is with the oppressed, when the whole world turns its back.

He is Al-Haqq — The Truth, when lies dominate the news.

He is As-Sabur — The Patient, when the world rushes to forget.

He is Al-Adl — The Just, when justice is mocked in courtrooms.

He is Ash-Shaheed — The Witness, when no one else will testify.

And when He acts—no army, media narrative, or occupation will survive His justice.

He may delay—but He never forgets. His delay is not abandonment. It is a test, a weighing, a divine precision that escapes our limited human sight. The Qur'an reminds us:

“Do not think Allah is unaware of what the wrongdoers do. He only delays them until a Day when eyes will stare in horror.” (Surah Ibrahim 14:42)

When people shout Where is God?, perhaps they should ask:

Who stood by the Pharaoh? And who drowned?

History is not written only by victors—it is rewritten by justice when it arrives. And it always does.

God is with the child holding her dead sibling and still whispering a prayer.

God is with the doctor treating dozens with no medicine.

God is with the father carrying his daughter in a plastic bag because there was no body bag.

He is with them—not with the ones dropping bombs in the name of democracy, not with those cheering genocide behind digital borders.

So don’t ask “Where is God?” while watching people die for your freedom to ask that question. Instead, ask yourself—

Where are you when devils are writing history in blood?

Where is your voice? Where is your outrage? Where is your soul?

Because the people of Gaza are not just fighting a military. They are fighting the world’s apathy, silence, and moral decay—and still walking with God.

That is not weakness. That is proof—that their God is already with them.

And He never breaks His promise.

This is not a time for theological debates. This is a time to recognise whose side we are really on. Neutrality is not innocence. Silence is not peace. And questioning the faith of the oppressed while they show us the highest forms of courage, belief, and dignity—is not wisdom. It is moral bankruptcy.

Their God is watching. So is history. And one day, both will speak—loud enough that even the most silent will be made to answer.