Thousands of activists from more than 50 countries faced intense obstruction from Egyptian authorities during the "Global Gaza March," a planned peaceful demonstration aimed at drawing global attention to the humanitarian crisis in Gaza.

The march, which sought to proceed from Cairo to the Rafah Border Gate, was met with stringent surveillance, passport confiscations, and interrogations, particularly targeting participants from Türkiye.

Despite these setbacks, the Global Gaza March has galvanized a new wave of determination among participants who vow to keep the movement alive and expand it.

From the onset, the march was met with hostility—not from Israeli forces, but from Egypt, the country through which these people of conscience hoped to peacefully walk to the Rafah Border Crossing, Gaza’s last remaining lifeline. One of the most outspoken participants, Abdulkuddus Yalçın, Vice President of ITTIHADUL ULEMA, returned to Türkiye with vivid testimony of the five-day ordeal and a renewed sense of mission.

Yalçın described how the Egyptian authorities immediately began obstructing the delegation, singling out Turkish participants for particular scrutiny. “We were detained at the airport, our passports were taken. We were asked absurd and invasive questions. They examined our calls, our destinations, and even our intentions.”

Although visas were eventually granted, it became clear that the state was working in tandem with its intelligence apparatus to prevent the march from gaining momentum. At the hotel, security forces had arrived ahead of the group and occupied the lobby. “Plainclothes officers shadowed us. Uniformed officers told us we had no right to move unless a 'senior rank' permitted it,” said Yalçın.

These tactics, he explained, were meant to intimidate and psychologically wear down participants. “We were treated as if we were insurgents, not humanitarians.”

Despite the repression, the marchers remained committed. On Friday, June 13, participants attempted to reach Ismailia, where they planned to begin their 50-kilometer journey on foot to Arish and finally to Rafah. But Egyptian security forces stopped the vehicles before reaching the city, segregated the group into parts, and prevented most from moving forward. Only a handful of Egyptians were allowed to pass.

In response, more than 1,500 people launched a spontaneous sit-in protest. Slogans for Gaza filled the air. “It was a moment of truth,” Yalçın recalled. “Despite the threat of arrest and violence, not one person stepped back. And it was the Western participants—those from the U.S., Europe, and Australia—who showed remarkable resolve. Their moral clarity was deeply moving.”

A policewoman later warned the crowd that force would be used if they didn’t disperse within 15 minutes. “But no one moved,” he said. “Not a single step back.”

Eventually, with diplomatic pressure mounting and the Turkish ambassador present, participants agreed to return to their hotels—but not to surrender. Instead, impromptu strategy meetings took place in lobbies and conference rooms. “We discussed going by sea next time. We talked about applying for permits for new actions. The spirit of resistance only grew stronger.”

According to Yalçın, the very fact that the Egyptian regime worked so hard to block the march proves its potential power. “It frightened them. The unity, the symbolism, the timing—it was too much for the system to allow. But the fact that we were stopped physically does not mean we were stopped politically or morally.”

Yalçın also pointed out the suspicious timing of Israel’s attacks on Iran, which coincided with the start of the Global Gaza March. “This wasn’t accidental,” he said. “Israel’s war planners saw the power of this march—Muslims and non-Muslims uniting across continents. They wanted to overshadow it, divert the world’s attention. But we see through the ploy.”

He noted how millions from Tunisia were also blocked at Egypt’s border. “They came in droves. But the regime stopped them. Why? Because this movement is growing. And when justice grows stronger, oppression grows nervous.”

Yalçın also addressed criticism of Hamas and its October 7 'Aqsa Flood' operation, expressing deep disappointment with certain Muslim leaders and scholars who questioned its legitimacy.

“I am ashamed—ashamed as a human being—that people would criticize the oppressed for resisting,” he said. “What should Hamas do? Let its children be slaughtered? Its hospitals bombed? Its leaders assassinated one by one?”

He condemned those who call for inaction in the face of genocide. “Islam does not teach us to be silent witnesses to slaughter. The Qur'an, the Sunnah, and every page of Islamic jurisprudence calls us to stand against oppression. Our Prophet (peace be upon him) instructed us to intervene with our hands, our words, or at least with our hearts.”

Yalçın closed his remarks with a passionate call to the Islamic world—to the scholars, the youth, the leaders, and the people of conscience. “We need to reclaim our dignity. May Allah restore the faith and conscience of those who remain silent while Gaza is burned and starved. The Ummah must unite—not tomorrow, but now.”

His plea was not merely rhetorical. It was a challenge. A warning. And a reminder that the Global Gaza March, while physically suppressed, has become a spiritual and political force that can no longer be contained. (ILKHA)