Outside the battered gates of Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis, southern Gaza, a crowd of anxious families gathers daily, clutching photographs and faded memories. They come in search of answers about the fate of their missing loved ones, hoping to find closure amid a process fraught with uncertainty and pain. Over the past eleven days, 195 bodies have been returned to Gaza by Israeli authorities, as part of a ceasefire deal brokered by former U.S. President Donald Trump. In exchange, the bodies of 13 Israeli hostages and two foreign nationals—one Nepalese and one Thai—were returned by Hamas, according to reporting by the BBC and the Associated Press.
The handover is part of a broader, ongoing exchange of the dead, which has also included the release of all living hostages and about 2,000 Palestinians from Israeli prisons. Yet, for many, the return of bodies has brought more questions than answers. The forensic team at Nasser Hospital, led by Dr. Ahmed Dheir, faces daunting challenges. With no DNA testing facilities, limited cold storage, and only basic resources, they are tasked with identifying the remains and uncovering the circumstances of death for each body.
"The situation is extremely challenging," Dr. Dheir explained to the BBC. "If we wait for the bodies to thaw, rapid decomposition begins almost immediately, putting us in an impossible position because we lose the ability to examine the remains properly. So the most viable method is to take samples and document the state of the bodies as they are." The bodies arrive in Gaza thoroughly frozen, often taking days to thaw—a process that further complicates any forensic investigation.
According to the Associated Press, the bodies returned by Israel are in various states: some badly decomposed, others naked or dressed in civilian clothes. Many show multiple signs of injury, with wrists tied behind their backs, blindfolds, and cloths tied around their necks. Dr. Alaa al-Astal, a member of the forensic team, described "signs of torture," including bruises and marks from tight restraints that cut off blood circulation, leading to tissue damage. "Even around the eyes, when the blindfolds were removed, you could see deep grooves—imagine how much force that took," Dr. Astal said.
Sameh Yassin Hamad, part of the Hamas-run government committee that received the bodies, reported to the BBC that some remains bore stab wounds to the chest or face, and others displayed bruising and blood infiltration suggesting severe beatings before death. Photographs reviewed by medical professionals and journalists show deep indentations from cable-ties on wrists and ankles, sometimes with bruising that experts say would only occur if the restraints were applied while the person was still alive.
Despite these observations, Israel’s military has denied tying bodies prior to their release and maintains that all returned bodies are those of combatants from within the Gaza Strip. Israel also stated it operates strictly in accordance with international law. When asked about the evidence of restraint and the removal of fingers and toes for DNA testing, Israel’s military reiterated that all bodies returned so far were combatants. A spokesperson for the Israeli Prime Minister’s Office described the reports from Gaza as "just more efforts to demonise Israel" and urged the media to focus on the experience of Israeli hostages instead.
Many families and independent experts dispute the Israeli account. The Associated Press spoke with several families who identified their loved ones among the returned bodies. Wahiba Shabat, who spent two years searching for her son Mahmoud, recognized him in a photo, but only confirmed his identity by feeling for a scar on his head. His body was returned naked, hands tied behind his back with a zip tie, jaw broken, and scars around his ankles—features that, according to his family, indicate he was not a fighter. "May God comfort every mother and let her know where her children are," Shabat told the AP after finally burying her son.
Thousands of families in Gaza are searching for missing relatives. Many of the bodies returned are believed to be those of fighters or others killed during the Hamas-led attack on October 7, 2023. However, some, like Mahmoud Shabat and a laborer shot in his car on that day, were not combatants, according to their families. The confusion is compounded by Israel’s refusal to provide identification or allow DNA testing materials into Gaza, leaving families to rely on photographs, scars, and birthmarks to identify their loved ones.
Dr. Dheir told the BBC that Israel sent back identification with only six of the 195 bodies—five of which turned out to be incorrect. "Since these bodies were held by the Israeli authorities, they will have full data about them," he said. "But they haven't shared that information with us through the Red Cross. We were sent DNA profiles for around half the total number of dead, but have not received any details about the dates or circumstances of death, or the time or place of detention."
The lack of reliable information has forced Gaza’s forensic teams to improvise. The International Committee of the Red Cross provided refrigerated trucks to help store the bodies, but Nasser Hospital remains one of only two functioning morgues in Gaza. Authorities photograph each body and post images on the Health Ministry’s website for families to search. For those without reliable internet, officials display the images in a makeshift hall at the hospital, where families gather in hope or despair.
International forensic experts have reviewed some of the photographs. Stephen Cordner, emeritus professor in forensic medicine at Monash University, told the Associated Press that while some damage could be attributed to the conditions in which the bodies were kept, binding wrists behind the back "would be unusual" and warrants a proper investigation. Michael Pollanen, a forensic pathologist at the University of Toronto, called the situation "an international forensic emergency," emphasizing the need for complete medicolegal autopsies to determine the truth behind the deaths.
Yet, the capacity for such investigations in Gaza is virtually nonexistent. Only about 50 of the returned bodies have been positively identified, mostly through basic physical details such as height, age, or previous injuries. Another 54 have been buried, unidentified and unclaimed, due to space constraints and the overwhelming pressure on the hospital’s facilities. As families continue to search for closure, many are left to bury bodies they cannot be certain are their own.
For some, like Houwaida Hamad, the uncertainty is unbearable. "If there was [DNA] testing, we'd know where he is—yes or no," she told the BBC while searching for her nephew. "My sister would know if the one we're burying is really her son or not." For others, like Shaimaa Abu Awda, whose 16-year-old son disappeared on his way to school, the hope of even finding a body to bury remains elusive. "He is a child, not a fighter," she said. "If he has been killed, it’s God’s will. ... But I want at least to find his body to bury him, like the rest of those people."
While the ceasefire has brought a measure of relief, the process of returning bodies has left many families in Gaza suspended between grief and uncertainty, forced to make impossible choices in the absence of answers. The return of the dead, meant to bring closure, has instead exposed the deep wounds of war and the immense challenges of truth and reconciliation in a landscape scarred by conflict.