Exile or ethnic cleansing? How South Sudan emerges as a controversial candidate for Gaza population transfer

For months, Israeli leaders have been promoting the idea of mass emigration from Gaza. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has presented the proposal as a humanitarian measure, insisting that Israel is not “pushing them out”, but enabling those who wish to leave to do so. He has hinted at talks with several foreign governments about absorbing displaced civilians.

Netanyahu’s far-right allies have championed the plan with even greater enthusiasm. Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich has argued that Gaza is an inseparable part of Israel and expressed hope that its Palestinian residents could be sent to third countries. For him and his supporters, permanent Israeli rule over Gaza goes hand in hand with the removal of its population.

Yet Israel has struggled to find willing hosts. Over the past two years it has floated the idea with states as varied as Indonesia, Uganda, Libya, Somalia and Somaliland. Some, such as Somaliland, have reportedly entertained the proposal in hopes of extracting diplomatic benefits such as recognition of their sovereignty. Still, no arrangement has materialised.

South Sudan as a candidate

One of the most controversial options to emerge is South Sudan. Although its leaders publicly deny any involvement, multiple sources suggest that senior South Sudanese officials have engaged with Israel on the subject. Lobbyists working with the country have even spoken of an Israeli delegation planning to assess potential camp sites.

For South Sudan, the attraction lies in geopolitics. Its leaders believe that by cooperating with Israel they might persuade Washington to ease sanctions, lift an arms embargo and revoke a travel ban imposed on South Sudanese citizens. They also hope to secure relief for Vice President Benjamin Bol Mel, a powerful figure who is now under international restrictions. The Trump administration had suspended visas for South Sudanese nationals earlier this year, accusing the country of refusing to take back deportees. In response, the country accepted a small number in what appeared to be a gesture of goodwill.

But behind the calculations lies a stark reality. South Sudan is one of the poorest and most unstable nations in the world. Since gaining independence in 2011 it has been wracked by civil war, famine and corruption. Nearly four lakh people died in the fighting that followed independence and millions more were displaced. A fragile peace deal remains tenuous at best, leaving the risk of renewed conflict. International aid feeds much of its population of 1.1 crore, yet foreign assistance has dwindled. To add hundreds of thousands of displaced Gazans to such a precarious setting would pose enormous challenges.

Domestic unease in South Sudan

The idea has also alarmed many South Sudanese. The country fought a decades-long struggle against Sudan, whose leadership was Arab and Muslim, while South Sudan is largely Christian and animist. Bringing in a significant Palestinian population could therefore stir unease and deepen ethnic and religious divides.

Civil society groups have voiced strong opposition. Edmund Yakani, head of the Community Empowerment for Progress Organization, told the New York Times that South Sudan should not be treated as a “dumping ground” or allow its people to become bargaining chips in foreign relations. To support such a scheme, he argued, would be to endorse ethnic cleansing.

The humanitarian dimension

Critics say that framing the plan as voluntary migration conceals the reality. The two-year Israeli offensive has devastated Gaza, levelling homes, destroying infrastructure and displacing the majority of its residents. Access to food, water, medicine and schools is minimal, while families live in fear of bombardment. In these circumstances, campaigners argue, there is nothing voluntary about leaving.

Human Rights Watch and other organisations insist that forcing people to abandon their homes in an unlivable territory amounts to forcible expulsion under international law. Palestinians themselves, shaped by the memory of displacement in 1948, fear that any departure would become permanent. Egypt, which briefly opened its border to allow people into Gaza early in the war, now strongly resists further transfers, worried about being left with a permanent refugee population.

The political backdrop reinforces such fears. Israeli leaders on the far right openly hope to establish new settlements in Gaza once Palestinians are gone. For many observers, the combination of military devastation and calls for resettlement suggests an intention not of humanitarian relief but of demographic engineering.

Legal and political fallout

International law prohibits the forced transfer of populations. Whether labelled voluntary or not, the prospect of moving Gazans to far-off countries such as South Sudan raises questions about ethnic cleansing. It also risks destabilising fragile states already facing humanitarian crises.

For Israel, the lack of takers reflects the moral and political weight of such a plan. Meanwhile, for South Sudan, even quiet consideration of the idea underscores the extent to which desperate governments may barter vulnerable populations for international favour.

Middle East