Viewed in context, Egypt’s conduct is not surprising to observers familiar with its political culture and internal dynamics. For more than seventy years, Egyptian public life has been heavily shaped by antisemitic narratives.
By Hezy Laing
Military analysts have long noted that Egypt manipulates Gaza and its population to maintain hostility to Israel.
It does this by preventing Gaza’s population from leaving the warzone, tolerating arms smuggling and refusing to assume responsibility for its governance —all of which leave Israel carrying the strategic, humanitarian, and security burden of Gaza’s instability.
Maj. Gen. (res.) Yaakov Amidror has long argued that Egypt’s management of the Rafah border enabled Hamas to grow militarily.
He notes that the border was never effectively sealed, allowing weapons, explosives, and dual‑use materials to flow into Gaza through tunnels and smuggling networks.
“Egypt preferred to look the other way,” says Amidror, explaining that Cairo viewed Hamas as a problem for Israel, not for itself. Egypt’s strategic calculus was to avoid entanglement in Gaza’s internal affairs, leaving the enclave “firmly outside Egyptian responsibility.”
This created a permissive environment in which Hamas could import materials, build its arsenal, and entrench its rule while Egypt avoided the political and economic burden of involvement.
Multiple reports suggest that even now, when Israel controls the Philadelphia corridor, weapons continue to reach Hamas from Egyptian territory, despite Egypt’s official denials and its stated efforts to secure the border.
This includes attempts to move advanced rocket‑fuel components into Gaza.
Israeli defense officials have noted repeated interceptions of drones carrying weapons launched from the Egyptian side, indicating that smuggling networks have adapted their methods as traditional routes were disrupted.
Many of the weapons involved are believed to originate from Iran or Yemen before passing through Sinai.
Egypt has consistently rejected accusations of complicity, with the Egyptian Foreign Ministry stating in 2024 that such claims were politically motivated and aimed at undermining its mediation efforts.
Regional tensions have also risen as Egypt deployed long‑range, Chinese‑made missile systems in the Sinai, a move described by The Media Line as intended to deter further escalation along the border.
Before May 2024, the Rafah crossing and the extensive tunnel network beneath it served as the primary channels for smuggling.
Even after the IDF took control of the Philadelphia Corridor to restrict these routes, smuggling attempts have continued, shifting toward drones and maritime pathways.
Dr. Mordechai Kedar emphasizes a different but related dimension: Egypt’s refusal to allow Gazans to enter Sinai, even during periods of intense conflict.
He has repeatedly pointed out that Egypt maintains an uncompromising stance on this issue, saying that Cairo “will not allow a single refugee into Sinai.”
Kedar says this deliberate policy is rooted in Egypt’s fear of demographic shifts, security risks, and the possibility that a displaced population might become permanent.
This refusal places the entire humanitarian burden on Israel, which becomes “the only outlet for humanitarian pressure” when civilians cannot flee southward.
Kedar says that this dynamic shapes both the humanitarian situation in Gaza and the strategic calculations of all regional actors.
Multiple polls show that roughly half, and in some surveys more than half, of Gaza’s population would emigrate if given the opportunity. This reflects a consistent pattern across several independent polling organizations.
A May 2025 PCPSR poll reported that 49% of Gazans would apply for assistance to emigrate, highlighting widespread despair amid war, economic collapse, and dissatisfaction with Hamas governance.
A Gallup poll from March 2025 showed an even higher figure: 52% of Gazans said they would leave while another survey by the Washington Institute in 2024 found 60% of Gazans open to emigration, reinforcing the trend across multiple data sources.
Egypt’s refusal to allow Gazans to enter Sinai during periods of conflict intensifies frustration, hopelessness, and political radicalization inside Gaza.
When civilians feel trapped in a warzone with no safe exit, it can heighten the sense that they have no protection or alternatives.
Human‑rights researchers note that populations under extreme pressure often experience rising anger toward all actors they believe are contributing to their confinement, including neighboring states.
In Gaza’s case, Egypt’s closed border is frequently interpreted by residents as a sign of abandonment, which deepens resentment.
Prof. Efraim Inbar explains Egypt’s approach as part of a broader strategy to avoid any responsibility for Gaza’s governance or reconstruction.
“Egypt wants Gaza to remain Israel’s headache,” he says, meaning that Cairo prefers a situation in which Israel—not Egypt—must manage Gaza’s crises, security challenges, and political instability.
Inbar notes that Egypt deliberately avoids involvement in administration, reconstruction, or security oversight, even when it has leverage or opportunity.
This hands‑off posture, he argues, creates a vacuum that Israel is forced to fill during escalations, whether by providing humanitarian aid, managing border crossings, or addressing security threats emerging from Gaza.
Viewed in context, Egypt’s conduct is not surprising to observers familiar with its political culture and internal dynamics over the past decade.
For more than seventy years, Egyptian public life has been heavily shaped by antisemitic narratives—not only as expressions of hostility, but as a mass‑mobilizing ideology and a central component of the state’s broader authoritarian project.
The 1979 peace treaty with Israel did not diminish this trend; if anything, it intensified it.
Since the Camp David Accords, opposition groups across the political spectrum have used antisemitic rhetoric as a way to channel public frustration and portray the Sisi government as betraying national interests.
In turn, the regime itself embraced and circulated these themes through its media and cultural institutions, using them to reinforce its own legitimacy and demonstrate its nationalist credentials.
