By: Fern Sidman

As international pressure mounts to accelerate reconstruction in Gaza, a leading pro-Israel organization has drawn a firm and uncompromising line: there can be no rebuilding until Hamas is fully disarmed and Gaza is irreversibly demilitarized. The position, articulated forcefully by Americans for a Safe Israel, aligns squarely with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and reflects a hard-earned skepticism shaped by decades of conflict, broken assurances, and the deadly misuse of humanitarian materials.

At the heart of the debate lies a deceptively simple question: can reconstruction proceed while Hamas remains entrenched in Gaza? For Israel and its supporters, the answer is unequivocal. Netanyahu recently dismissed reports suggesting that rebuilding might be permitted before demilitarization, stating bluntly, “I’m hearing even now claims that Gaza’s reconstruction will be allowed before demilitarization—this will not happen.” That declaration was immediately welcomed by Americans for a Safe Israel (AFSI), which argued that anything less would amount to a dangerous act of collective amnesia.

Israeli officials have long warned that Gaza’s reconstruction cannot be treated as a neutral or purely humanitarian undertaking so long as the territory remains under the control of Hamas, the terrorist organization that has ruled Gaza for nearly two decades. The concern centers on so-called “dual-use” materials—items that have legitimate civilian applications but can just as easily be repurposed for military ends. Cement, steel, piping, and heavy machinery are indispensable for rebuilding homes and infrastructure. They are also the essential raw materials of an underground war machine.

AFSI’s argument is rooted in bitter experience. Time and again, international donors and agencies have authorized the entry of construction materials into Gaza under the assumption that they would be used for civilian recovery. Time and again, Hamas diverted those materials to expand a sprawling network of attack tunnels, command bunkers, and fortified positions. Those tunnels were not abstract threats; they were engineered corridors of death, used to infiltrate Israeli communities, kidnap civilians and soldiers, and stage massacres.

“Concrete for the foundation of a building can also be used to make tunnels, as Hamas has demonstrated again and again,” said Moshe Phillips, underscoring the grim reality that distinguishes Israel’s security dilemma from that of any other nation. “Israel is the only country in the world whose next-door neighbors have built dozens of tunnels into its territory to perpetrate massacres of civilians.”

That observation is not rhetorical flourish; it is a statement of historical record. Prior to October 7, Israel had fought multiple rounds of conflict against Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad. Each time, ceasefires were brokered, aid flowed in, and reconstruction began—often under international supervision. Each time, Hamas exploited the lull to rebuild its military capabilities beneath the surface. The October 7 terrorist invasion, which shattered any lingering illusions about Hamas’s intentions, did not emerge from nowhere. It was made possible by years of tunnel construction that relied on imported cement and steel.

For AFSI, these facts alone render the notion of reconstruction under Hamas rule not merely naïve but reckless. Allowing rebuilding to proceed before demilitarization, the organization argues, would guarantee a repetition of the same cycle: aid, diversion, rearmament, and renewed bloodshed. The victims of that cycle are not only Israelis, but also Gazans, whose homes and lives are repeatedly sacrificed to Hamas’s militarism.

Netanyahu’s insistence on demilitarization first is therefore framed not as collective punishment, but as a prerequisite for any sustainable future. Reconstruction, in this view, is not a gift to be bestowed unconditionally; it is a process that must be anchored in security guarantees. Without the dismantling of Hamas’s weapons, tunnel networks, and command structures, rebuilding Gaza’s surface infrastructure would amount to pouring concrete over a powder keg.

AFSI’s stance also challenges a broader international narrative that tends to separate humanitarian concerns from security realities. While the impulse to alleviate suffering in Gaza is understandable and necessary, AFSI contends that humanitarianism divorced from accountability has repeatedly backfired. Aid that strengthens Hamas, even indirectly, prolongs the very conditions that generate humanitarian crises in the first place.

Established in 1970, Americans for a Safe Israel has spent decades positioning itself as a counterweight to what it sees as one-sided or ahistorical portrayals of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Independent of any political party in the United States or Israel, AFSI’s advocacy has consistently emphasized Israel’s right—and obligation—to defend its citizens against terrorism. In the current debate, that perspective translates into a clear hierarchy of priorities: security first, reconstruction second.

Critics argue that delaying reconstruction will exacerbate Gaza’s humanitarian plight and deepen despair. AFSI does not deny the severity of conditions in Gaza, but it rejects the premise that Hamas’s continued rule is compatible with meaningful relief. In its view, Hamas bears primary responsibility for Gaza’s devastation, having systematically invested in weapons and tunnels rather than civilian welfare. To rebuild while Hamas remains armed would be to reward that behavior and entrench its grip on power.

The organization’s support for Netanyahu’s position also reflects a broader concern about precedent. If the international community signals that armed groups can wage war, suffer defeat, and then receive unconditional reconstruction aid without disarming, it risks incentivizing similar strategies elsewhere. Demilitarization, by contrast, establishes a baseline expectation: reconstruction follows peace, not the other way around.

Netanyahu’s statement, echoed by AFSI, is thus less about punishment than about sequencing. Demilitarization is not an abstract demand; it entails the physical dismantling of tunnels, the removal of weapons, and the elimination of Hamas’s capacity to wage war. Only then, proponents argue, can cement truly be cement—used to build schools, hospitals, and homes rather than subterranean arsenals.

There is also an implicit moral argument at play. Israel, AFSI contends, has the right to insist that its neighbors not prepare for its destruction under the cover of humanitarian aid. No other nation is expected to accept the systematic construction of attack tunnels beneath its borders as a tolerable risk. To ask Israel to do so is to apply a double standard that erodes the very concept of sovereignty.

The debate over Gaza’s reconstruction is far from settled. International actors continue to explore mechanisms for oversight, monitoring, and phased rebuilding. Yet AFSI’s intervention serves as a stark reminder that technical solutions cannot substitute for political and security realities. Oversight regimes have failed before, not because of lack of intent, but because Hamas has proven adept at deception and coercion.

As the dust settles from the latest round of conflict, the choices made now will shape Gaza’s future for years to come. Netanyahu’s refusal to allow reconstruction before demilitarization, backed by Americans for a Safe Israel, is a wager that security is the foundation upon which any genuine recovery must be built. It is a wager informed by history, hardened by loss, and driven by the conviction that rebuilding without disarming Hamas would condemn both Israelis and Palestinians to yet another cycle of devastation.

In the end, the argument is stark but simple: concrete can either shelter families or conceal weapons. Until Hamas is removed from the equation, Israel and its allies insist, the risk that it will do the latter remains intolerably high.