Daniele Pagani - Regional Information Officer in Amman, overseeing countries including, Syria, Lebanon, and Palestine.
The man in front of me is sitting in his office in Amman, a region where the world seems to grow darker by the day. Yet he is here, ready to share stories of love and hate, of human nature, and of extraordinary courage.
A journalist with 20 years of experience and a humanitarian at heart, Daniele Pagani has spent the past 6 years working for the European Commission’s Directorate-General for European Civil Protection and Humanitarian Aid Operations (DG ECHO). Specialised in Middle Eastern affairs, he oversees countries including, Syria, Lebanon, and Palestine.
Despite witnessing years of conflict and suffering, his heart has not hardened; instead, he continues to listen, to feel, and to give voice to those less fortunate than himself.
I had the chance to speak with him about gender-based violence in crisis settings, his motivation to continue this work, and the light that persists even in the darkest of places.
How can one give up?
Daniele replies with the calm of someone shaped by years of witnessing conflict and crisis firsthand.
‘The most important is recognising that we are not the ones who are truly struggling,’ Daniele says. ‘It can be hard to keep showing up, especially when progress feels painfully slow – whether it is the hope for a just and lasting peace in Gaza, or the unfolding crises in Ukraine, Afghanistan, and Sudan.’
He speaks of Gaza because it is burning before our eyes and unfolding within the very region where he works, but he is quick to remind us that the other crises must not be forgotten.
The world’s attention drifts easily; suffering does not.
‘Acknowledging your own privilege means acknowledging your responsibility,’ he emphasises. To him, the real question is not, ‘How do you not give up?’ but rather: how could you? When you see innocent people pushed into extreme vulnerability, how can you not try to do something – especially when you are in a position that allows you to help?
Everyday acts of resilience
Daniele believes humanitarian aid makes a tangible, immediate difference.
‘What we do is practical,’ Daniele explains. ‘It means providing water where infrastructure has been destroyed, delivering nutritious food to children under 5, and ensuring healthcare for pregnant women through trained midwives. These are concrete services that save lives.’
What frustrates him is not the work itself, but the reality of having to continue it for years because political solutions fail to materialise. ‘As long as there is no final resolution to a crisis, the choice is simple: either you leave and abandon people who have no power to change their situation, or you stay and offer at least some dignity where there is none.’ For him, that decision is clear.
‘You need to keep a sense of normality even in crisis settings. Taking care of yourself can be an act of resilience – against war, against conflict, against forced displacement. That’s why it is so important to provide dignity kits to people trapped in these situations, even if it is just a razor for a man.’ The European Commission has been providing humanitarian aid since 1992 in over 110 countries, reaching millions of people across the globe each year. The EU has always been one of the largest international donors in the Middle East.
In the field, Daniele witnesses the impact of this support every day and knows how much it matters.
Hate motivated by love
Having seen all this injustice and the atrocities around him, I wonder how he has not lost his motivation, and I ask whether it comes more from empathy or from anger at injustice.
He explains that, when you look at it closely, love and hate do not exclude each other. You feel anger when witnessing injustice, and at the same time, empathy for those who survive it. You take an ordinary person – someone doing a 9-to-5 job – a civilian whose life has been turned upside down by circumstances beyond their control, suddenly trapped in a war zone, and you feel rage in your heart. And what do you want to do? Help.
‘Empathy generates anger, and then it becomes action,’ Daniele says. ‘Civilians had no part in creating the circumstances that made them vulnerable.’
Choosing life in the shadow of war
We talk about love – and how it survives amidst the debris of war. Daniele, a father of 2, reflects on what it would mean to see the woman he loves endure what a pregnant woman in Gaza must face. He tells me how, in Gaza, some women choose to get pregnant as an act of courage, rebellion, and ownership of their own bodies.
‘They just don't want love to be defeated completely by war,’ Daniele confides.
Simple things, like an ultrasound to check on the baby’s health, are luxuries most of us in Europe take for granted. There, a woman may have no idea if her child is healthy, ill, or even incompatible with life. And what if she needs an emergency C-section? There may be no doctor, no anaesthesia. She might be in the middle of nowhere, in a tent with nothing inside – giving birth on a small camping bed – and still, she goes through with it. ‘If women in Gaza are brave enough to go through it, how can we complain?’ Daniele asks.
But why do women continue to give birth in war? The answers are never simple. Many women with whom Daniele had conversations with, tell him it is their way of asserting that love will not be defeated. Often – though not always – love motivates the decision to get pregnant: love for a partner, love for life, the desire to give hope a face and a name. ‘It is a way of refusing to let war define every aspect of their lives’, Daniele says. A small act of rebellion, perhaps the bravest act they can take to assert control over their bodies or/and lives.
Sometimes Daniele asks himself: would he do the same if placed in their shoes? Maybe not. But he deeply understands the bravery of those who refuse to let war decide their most personal choices. They claim a future, care for each other, and keep hope alive.
Be brave like a woman in a crisis setting
In Palestine darkness often feels tangible, yet some stories shine through anyway. According to data highlighted by the UN, since 7 October 2023, over 70,600 Palestinians have been killed (including over 20,100 children) and more than 171,000 have been injured in Gaza.
While Gaza faces massive displacement and tragic loss of life, in the West Bank, the Jenin camp – one of the largest Palestinian refugee camps – has now been forcibly emptied following an Israeli military operation.
Even in the worst conditions, Palestinian women voluntarily maintain their dignity – refusing to let war strip away their spirit.
He remembers a young Palestinian female journalist he once worked with, who said:
‘For us – for Palestinian women in war and displacement – caring for ourselves, even just how we look, is an act of resistance. They may want to see us suffering, hopeless, but we stand dignified, strong. Whatever happens, we remain. We will not drown.’
Daniele says the stories like these are countless.
‘Be brave like a woman in a crisis setting’, Daniele adds.
In the West Bank, the European Union is working with UNICEF to support forcibly displaced Palestinian families with cash assistance – reaching 3,000 families, or nearly 15,000 people. Beyond meeting urgent needs, this support helps ease the financial, mental, and emotional weight of displacement, allowing families – especially children and women – to preserve their dignity and resilience in the face of war.
Where kindness survives the war
The war goes on, but people fall in love, get married, get pregnant, separate, get sick, get lost, and look for themselves. Life goes on, even when death is breathing down your shoulder. In the Middle East, where Daniele is stationed, hope is often followed by despair. Yet even in the most unbelievable moments, there are small things that stay with you – moments of kindness.
Traveling across the Middle East as a Regional Information Officer, Daniele meets people affected by conflict and displacement, listens to their stories, and helps bring their voices to the world. And in every place, he goes, he says, he finds kindness.
He tells me about a man he met in Gaza, shortly after the first ceasefire in February 2025. A young local driver: he had lost his house, his brother, and several family members. He had sent his wife and 5 children to Egypt. He was left behind, trapped in a war zone, unable to reach his family – completely alone in the middle of a nightmare.
Daniele noticed that the man was carrying a beautiful pen and complimented him on it. The man, who had almost nothing, insisted on giving it to him. Daniele refused, but the man’s willingness to give struck him deeply.
‘It is about the kindness that survives the crisis,’ Daniele tells me. ‘Crisis is brutal – on your mind, on your loved ones, on your sense of self. And yet communities hold on to kindness and solidarity.’
War is not noble, and crisis is not beautiful. They test people in painful ways. Still, amid the ruins, some continue to choose humanity – sharing what little they have and thinking beyond the present destruction.
He believes this kindness will become the foundation of post-war reconstruction. One day, the war will be over. And it is this quiet humanity along with some humanitarian aid from the EU that will rebuild what has been destroyed.
‘Heroism is surviving with dignity,’ Daniele says.
Always trust the local people
He is proud of his work. Proud, too, of what the EU is doing. ‘Trust the local people. Always trust the local people,’ he says. ‘You cannot help without knowing what is really happening on the ground. That’s why you trust your local partners – they know what they are doing.’ That trust matters, he says, because the people who live through the crisis are also the ones best placed to respond to it. He has seen their selflessness in the communities, and that, he tells me, is what stays with him the most. The way local people are always involved, always respected, always central to the work.
He speaks of the countless professionals behind the missions – doctors, nurses, engineers, technicians, humanitarian specialists – all contributing their expertise so that aid can reach even the most insecure places. He gives concrete examples:
‘When we work with agencies like the World Food Programme, we are ensuring that real food reaches real people. When we support healthcare in conflict zones, we give surgeons the tools to save the lives of children caught in airstrikes.’
Talking with him gives me hope. Hope that humanity survives even when life is shattered. Hope that light can defeat darkness and hope that love can defeat hate, not only in the Middle East, but all around the globe. That hope comes from the people he speaks with every day, who refuse to let war define who they are.
And until that day comes, the EU will help as much as possible.
