Two conversations are unfolding in the wake of the latest ceasefire, which brought a fragile pause to the carnage in Gaza. One is quiet, realistic and local. The other is loud, moral, and global. The first takes place behind closed doors among Middle Eastern diplomats, intelligence agents and military veterans. The second message fills our timeline, animated by anger and solidarity, the only decent human responses to fear. The first is about drawing new power maps, and the second is about betrayal and mistrust.
If you listen carefully, some surprising conclusions emerge from the region’s capitals. The idea is that the Gaza war is over not only militarily, but also as a political paradigm. In the eyes of those in charge of national politics, this agreement appears to be a point of no return. What is going on now is not a truce. That’s sorted. The Gaza disaster will trigger a recalibration, with ripples that will extend far beyond the border and deep into Israel, reshaping Palestinian politics and redefining what regional stability means for years to come.
In this new reckoning, Hamas, and indeed the entire Islamic political project along with most non-state actors, faces exclusion from formal politics. The region’s ruling classes, newly united around the pursuit of stability, trade, and controlled modernization, now view such movements as relics of the past and disruptive. There is a growing consensus that all such actors must be contained or eradicated.
The same logic of control will extend to the West Bank. This is simply because the emerging regional order values governance capacity above all else. The Arab plan is for Arab states, joined by selected Islamic and international powers, to intervene to place the West Bank under temporary administrative, financial, and security-based supervision, paving the way for a managed transition.
The Palestinian Authority will probably be given one last chance for reform. The process will be overseen by a team of independent technocrats tasked with restructuring institutions, governing Gaza, and preparing for elections. If the Palestinian Authority resists this restructuring, it risks isolation and bankruptcy.
Many will see this as an attempt at coordination rather than reform. Certainly, the logic of those driving this process is not democratic idealism. They seek to secure Palestinian streets through leadership that can contain discontent and negotiate on predictable terms. The Palestinians have no monarch or dynasty, and in the absence of such a structure, the ballot box remains the only viable tool for maintaining internal legitimacy, even if born of external calculations.
The Palestine Liberation Organization has long been hollowed out, and may soon become little more than a symbolic umbrella, a ceremonial venue for the “liberation” parties. In the emerging regional order, there is a risk of being seen as a structure whose political time has passed, and its struggles are limited to declarations, appeals, and the pursuit of donor funds. Those wishing to maintain political influence will need to reconstitute themselves as civilian parties stripped of their revolutionary spirit, with the new order in mind.
These are the contours of what many in the policy world now see as inevitable. Few people talk about this vision publicly, but from Amman to Cairo, from Riyadh to major Western capitals, there is quiet acceptance and confidence.
But there’s a groove here. While insiders speak in terms of systems, surveillance, and “order,” many around the world rebel against what they see as cynical calculations and coordination of power relocations stripped of justice, accountability, and honest vision. Activists and solidarity movements see these maneuvers as a betrayal rather than a rebuilding of order. They cannot trust Israel or the United States, nor can they trust the intentions of local governments that seem aligned with money and power. And it’s natural for them to be suspicious.
But between naivety and cynicism there must be room for realism, not resigned realism, but recognition. What is happening now is not the realization of justice, but the emergence of new structures that define what justice can and cannot achieve. To ignore it is to lose independence again.
The Gaza earthquake changed the grammar of conflict. Israel’s power, while brutal, is no longer absolute. Local politics are changing. A new order is written. Those who wish to remain active within it must learn its vocabulary. Otherwise, you risk becoming a footnote, remembered only for your refusal to adapt to the world as it is remade before your eyes.
In my view, both practical and moral realities are currently unfolding in parallel, their currents intertwining, colliding, and moving forward past all contradictions. Alongside this divide runs a second intersecting axis. Meanwhile, Israel’s relentless expansionist project continues to challenge and erode every new paradigm of peace, justice, and order. The other is defined by the transactional calculations of regional powers, each tied to and influencing the United States to varying degrees.
In the short term, the collision of these flows will definitely create turbulence. But in the longer term, with Washington’s attention constantly forced to shift to China and Russia, and with Western public sentiment decisively opposed to Israeli impunity and the colonial logic that underpins it, it is hard to imagine how the second stream of regional realists will not eventually prevail, and perhaps sooner than expected.
Meanwhile, the solidarity movement will continue to speak of values such as rights, memory, and a moral law that still insists on justice in an age of opportunism. Their voices remain essential. It is conscience that reminds us of what politics often forgets. The arc of history does not bend toward justice by itself. It is bound to be drawn there by those who reject amnesia and will not sacrifice values for comfort.
The challenges ahead are clear for the Palestinian diaspora and the international community driven by solidarity. They must resist the soothing comfort of appeasing gestures that are sure to increase, such as recognition, resolution, and promises of reconstruction. Please accept these generously. But don’t mistake it for transformation.
Promoting concrete changes on the ground and holding people accountable must continue unremittingly. The architects and perpetrators of the genocide in Gaza must one day face the law, not for revenge, but to restore the meaning of justice itself. It is only with this tenacity that conscience can remain a political force and that the struggle for Palestine for dignity, equality and truth can continue to define not only the destiny of its people but also the moral character of our time.
Another difficult challenge is one that is too often neglected: building new political leadership on the ground. A gap currently exists. Narrow and uncertain, but real. It’s not easy to step into it, but it’s something you must grasp.
The next generation must understand that it is no longer enough to testify, protest, or comment from the sidelines. No one is invited to be a leader. They will have to claim that space for themselves through initiative, clarity, and organizational efforts.
As Palestinians return to their political roots, those who want a new kind of leadership will need to be directly involved in policymaking and help form and fund movements that advance the state.
For only through the rise of new political forces and a language that can speak both on the streets and in the halls of power can Palestinians reclaim their voice in this new chapter of development.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial stance of Al Jazeera.
