Today marks the beginning of the third year of the Al-Aqsa Flood, along with it one of the fiercest and most brutal wars of our era. The consequences and reverberations of both continue to ripple across the globe, producing seismic aftershocks that no Richter scale can contain. Meanwhile, the threads of debate surrounding October 7 and the Flood remain tightly drawn.
Amid the daily massacres accompanying this war of cleansing and extermination, voices of doubt have risen — questioning the seriousness and utility of the Al-Aqsa Flood. Condemnations and accusations have multiplied. With each new procession of martyrs, every rising number of the missing, wounded, or captured, support for October 7 seemed to shrink. As the towers and homes collapsed upon their inhabitants, empathy gave way to reservations of every kind.
At first, October 7 captured the hearts, minds, and consciences of most Palestinians and their allies. The “cawing voices” of hesitation hid behind stammering words. Today, brazenness has replaced shame; naked, defeated faces now appear on yellow screens, spilling their defeated and humiliated essence.
But let us not confuse matters or condemn everyone for the sins of a few submissive souls — those who have grown accustomed to humiliation and made a living from it. There are innocent voices, moved by the magnitude of Gaza’s pain, who feel that the cost of October 7 has far outweighed its gains. Such voices deserve respect and compassion. Then there are others — those who never stood with Palestinian resistance, who placed its factions on “terror lists,” who saw it as a threat, not a hope, and who have no qualms about cooperating with the enemy to contain and eradicate it. These people are not the audience for this article. Their case is beyond remedy — driven by narrow self-interest, most of them from “the beneficiaries of submission” and “those forever checking the safety of their own heads.”
“Where Were We, and Where Are We Now?”
Let us go back to October 6, 2023. What was being said in every room and on every lip? That the Palestinian cause was dead. That it had fallen to the bottom of Arab and Muslim priorities, barely a footnote on the world’s agenda.
The normalization train was unstoppable, nearing its Saudi station — a gateway to other Arab and Islamic capitals soon to abandon hesitation and shame.
The West Bank was being quietly devoured, piece by piece, with barely a murmur of protest. The Arab statements that came out were repetitive, hollow, and ignored. Israel’s narrative dominated global opinion. Gaza groaned under a suffocating siege, its generation imprisoned in the world’s largest open-air jail. The holy sites were under constant desecration by extremist settlers and religious fascists. The Palestinian Authority was disintegrating, reduced to its security coordination skeleton, while the PLO was no more than a ring reserved for signing surrender documents.
Arabs had “grown tired” of their “central cause.” For most, it was neither “central” nor a “cause” anymore.
All of that continues to this day — but now it faces global scrutiny. The international public eye is alert, and official (and especially popular) reactions now brandish the swords of condemnation, boycott, sanctions, and recognition of Palestinian rights and legitimacy.
Diplomacy fell apart. The negotiation option collapsed. The Oslo process — “not life,” to borrow the late Saeb Erekat’s phrase — died in every sense. The Palestinian National and Central Councils both declared its demise repeatedly, while Israeli leaders boasted of dismantling it and blocking any path to a Palestinian state. The 2018 “Nation-State Law” sealed that reality.
Arab diplomacy even failed to preserve the formality of negotiations. The last round, held in Amman a decade before the Flood, saw Netanyahu arrive in shackles — restrained by Obama and Kerry — only to sabotage it.
Europe scoffed at calls to recognize a Palestinian state, even symbolically, while hypocritically preaching the “two-state solution.” The multipolar world had yet to emerge; Russia was stuck in Ukraine; China yawned politically and leapt only economically.
And Washington? It had nothing left to offer Palestinians except the “Deal of the Century” — as the ceiling, not the floor, of their aspirations.
Internally, the Palestinian scene was equally suffocated. All paths to genuine reconciliation and unity were blocked. President Abbas canceled the 2021 elections against national consensus — under silent complicity and even encouragement from Arab and Western capitals — ignoring the fact that neither he, nor the PA, nor Fatah still represented a majority of Palestinians. A new actor had emerged — armed with two legitimacies: one from the ballot box (the 2006 elections and 2021 polls) and one from the battlefield, proven in “Sword of Jerusalem” and culminating in the Al-Aqsa Flood.
Such stagnation could not last forever. The decay of the Palestinian cause — its rights, land, and sanctities — could not reverse without a quake foretold by a “deer that heralds an earthquake.” Thus came the decision of October 7 — the calculated move of those who unleashed the Flood. This is the point of departure for discussing that fateful day in Palestinian history.
Could Hamas Have Foreseen It All?
What appeared to be a “large stone” that Al-Qassam Brigades threw into the stagnant Middle Eastern pond on October 7 soon spiraled out of control — far beyond Hamas’s own calculations. The ripples reached all six continents, from Palestine and Israel to the farthest corners of the globe.
Who could have imagined that the Flood would lead to strikes deep inside Iran’s nuclear program, to the fall of Assad’s regime, to Hezbollah suffering strategic blows, or to the Houthis emerging as a regional player — shutting down Eilat, striking Tel Aviv, signing and canceling deals with Washington?
Who foresaw that the Flood would alter U.S. regional strategy from retreat to re-engagement, that tiny Gaza would become one of the gateways to a new world order, that Europe would shed its last fig leaves of moral pretense, and that Arab regimes would sink deeper into disgrace?
Who imagined that the Palestinian Authority would resist not Israel, but its own people — refusing even a kind word of solidarity with Gaza’s resistance, let alone support in arms?
Who foresaw that the Flood would bring forth an entire generation across East and West, marching under the Palestinian flag, while Israel’s narrative withered — now branded globally as an apartheid, genocidal, and fascist state standing trial before international justice?
No, Hamas did not foresee all this. Their calculations were real but limited. Yet the question stands: who, in this entire world, could have predicted such an outcome? Even the “hindsight wise men,” abundant in Arab and Palestinian circles, no longer dare to say, “Didn’t we tell you so?” They said it early in the war, when the Israeli monster began its rampage through Gaza. But two years on — after unthinkable Israeli crimes and legendary Palestinian endurance — humility has replaced arrogance. What happened exceeded the imagination.
So why demand from Hamas what no critic or enemy could themselves have foreseen?
Could the Cost Have Been Reduced?
It is neither moral nor honest to downplay the staggering price Palestinians paid in the course of the Flood. Every Palestinian child’s life matters. Every fighter’s life matters.
But the fundamental question remains: can a colonized people ever free themselves from their colonizer without paying a price — often a steep and painful one?
And who says this price was inevitable? Could not the enemy’s barbarity have been contained if the Palestinian Authority had chosen coordination with the resistance instead of coordination with the occupation?
If the Arab regimes had used even the smallest of their political, economic, or legal cards (not to mention military ones, though justified)?
They did not. They hesitated. And only later began blaming Israel — mildly — for its massacres, after first blaming Hamas, some even justifying Israel’s atrocities as “deserved punishment” for daring to strike its “invincible army” and its “infallible intelligence.”
Some even echoed Israel’s logic of “disciplining” generations of Palestinians, so that no one would dare act similarly in the future.
They fear resistance as much as Israel does. They fear the proof that Israel can be defeated. They fear the images of Gaza’s steadfastness more than its devastation — preferring famine and ruin to serve as a cautionary tale against defiance.
Behind the calls to “reduce the cost,” lurked darker intentions. Some wanted Hamas to raise the white flag — not out of pity for Gaza’s people, but to record in history that the movement that launched the most daring strike on Israel ended in surrender.
They wanted future generations to learn one lesson: “See what happens when you resist.”
They don’t merely want to defeat resistance — they want to uproot its spark from hearts, minds, and souls, for this generation and the next.
The Battle of Narratives
This confrontation was never just between a Palestinian and an Israeli narrative. Inside the Palestinian discourse itself, there were two: one glorifying “wisdom” in doing nothing, and another of resistance — inspiring minds and igniting emotions.
Each found echoes across the Arab and Islamic worlds. But make no mistake — the narrative of steadfastness and resistance prevailed. Global public opinion has crossed the point of no return; it will never again follow the Israeli narrative as it once did.
Is Palestine Better Off Today?
In the immediate sense, Palestine bleeds — in the West Bank, Jerusalem, and especially Gaza. Israel has shattered all restraints on its barbarity.
Yet in return, Israel, at the height of its savagery, finds itself facing the reality that Gaza and its resistance have managed to change the world’s image, not just their own.
The isolation once imposed on a movement branded “terrorist” by both friend and foe now encircles Israel itself. It is losing its image as a democratic oasis in the Middle East, and even among Jews worldwide, its promise of safety and prosperity is fading.
“Greater Israel,” inflated by hubris, is now choking on the “Palestinian morsel.” The people of Gaza remain on their land. And an unprecedented global consensus — earned by their endurance and sacrifice — now affirms their right to exist and resist.
Young Palestinians in the West Bank and Jerusalem still defy Israeli bayonets, despite the enemy’s might and the brother’s betrayal.
Instead of focusing solely on Gaza’s “day after,” perhaps it is time to ask about Israel’s “day after.”
Israel after the Al-Aqsa Flood will not return to what it was. It may be too early to define its new reality once the guns fall silent, but one should heed the words of what few Israeli voices of reason remain — warning of the bleak future awaiting their project.
In the medium and long term, Israel’s old privileges in this world are gone — especially with the young generation that witnessed this war and will soon lead governments, shape policies, and steer public opinion.
The path for Palestinians to be recognized as a freedom-seeking, rights-bearing people has widened — no longer hindered by the weapon of “anti-Semitism” accusations.
Hamas may emerge militarily weaker after the Flood, perhaps more isolated politically, but as an idea and a cause, it will neither fade nor retreat. That is part of the price the movement paid — and continues to pay. Yet it remains an honorable price. There is a vast difference between a movement that sacrifices in the fields of struggle and one that trades its dignity for the comforts of “security coordination” under Oslo’s heavy chains.
How this internal Palestinian dynamic will ultimately settle — and what new balances will emerge — is secondary.
What matters most is that the flame of resistance remains alive and burning.
To conclude: Oslo and the PA may have extinguished it within Fatah — but let us beware that the negotiation track beginning in Sharm el-Sheikh does not succeed in extinguishing it within Hamas and the other factions of resistance.
