By : Ahmad M. Awad
Jordan Daily – As the Israeli aggression against Gaza continues to escalate with unprecedented brutality—now widely described by international and human rights bodies as a campaign of genocide and ethnic cleansing—and with ongoing repression, abuse, and displacement intensifying in the West Bank, a troubling phenomenon has emerged within the Palestinian landscape: the growing voices rejecting, and even opposing, armed resistance from within certain political and social circles. This comes at a time when collective unity and mobilization should be the strategic imperative to confront the machinery of occupation.
This phenomenon is not new. History is replete with similar examples from other colonized nations where internal forces played varying roles during liberation struggles—sometimes even collaborating with colonial powers under the pretexts of “political realism,” fear of chaos, or the desire to “preserve achievements.”
Revisiting this debate today aims to unpack the deep-rooted structure of such opposition to armed resistance, recognizing it as a historically embedded and structurally recurring dynamic. This internal friction has consistently posed a serious challenge to national liberation movements across the globe. In this light, the current Palestinian experience appears as yet another chapter in a long history of colonial domination, where internal divisions persist between those who resist and those who seek accommodation—or even collaboration—in exchange for safety or to maintain political and economic privileges.
Armed resistance has long served as a central instrument in the struggles of colonized peoples against imperial powers. Yet it has rarely commanded universal support within those societies. Across various historical contexts, internal factions have opposed armed resistance on grounds ranging from ethical or religious beliefs to political calculations and economic self-interest—sometimes even leading to direct cooperation with colonial regimes.
Twentieth-century liberation movements demonstrate that this form of opposition was not an anomaly but a recurring feature, reflecting deep structural divisions in vision, priorities, and interests among the occupied. Often, such internal opposition became one of the major obstacles to achieving full national liberation.
Nonetheless, international law—particularly international humanitarian law and resolutions of the United Nations General Assembly—explicitly affirms the right of peoples under colonial domination or foreign occupation to resist by all legitimate means, including armed struggle. This is recognized as a form of legitimate self-defense and a pathway to achieving self-determination and ending foreign control.
In Algeria, for example, segments of the local elite opposed armed resistance, preferring to pursue political reforms under French colonial rule. Many leaders and local notables, including pashas, aligned themselves with the French administration against the National Liberation Front (FLN), driven by fears of losing their status and influence. They often harshly criticized the resistance throughout the anti-colonial struggle.
In Vietnam, the U.S.-backed South Vietnamese regime became the primary institutional opponent of the armed resistance led by the National Liberation Front (Viet Cong). In addition, certain religious groups in Vietnam also opposed this form of resistance, weakening the liberation movement and delaying its eventual victory over American forces by several years.
In Kenya, many tribal leaders and traditional authorities sided with British colonial rulers, becoming internal tools of repression against Kenyan armed resistance movements. This opposition was not merely ideological but often linked to local power dynamics involving land ownership, control of resources, and political interests.
Latin America offers parallel examples. In Cuba, Fidel Castro’s July 26 Movement faced resistance from large segments of the economic elite and business class, some of whom aligned with the U.S.-backed Batista regime. In Nicaragua, during the Sandinista Revolution against the Somoza dictatorship, traditional economic and social elites, along with influential church figures, sided against the armed resistance. Similarly, in Guatemala, powerful landowners opposed the rural revolutionary movements that sought armed struggle to challenge entrenched inequalities.
Comparable dynamics appeared in the Portuguese colonies in Africa. Armed resistance in Angola and Mozambique faced opposition from tribal leaders and local elites who allied with the Portuguese colonial authorities to protect their interests. These alliances significantly delayed the decolonization process in those countries.
Across all these cases, a common thread emerges: opposition to armed resistance was often driven by fear of losing social or economic privileges or concerns over shifts in the political order that had previously secured these groups’ positions within colonial or semi-colonial systems.
Since the early days of Zionist colonialism in Palestine and throughout the Great Palestinian Revolt of 1936–1939, a faction led by influential families with economic and political clout within Palestinian society emerged in opposition to the uprising. These elites directly and indirectly contributed to suppressing the revolt, justifying their stance by arguing that armed resistance would only provoke further repression and jeopardize the limited gains achieved under British colonial rule—then known as the Mandate.
In the past three decades, this historical pattern has reemerged with striking similarity. Following the establishment of the Palestinian Authority after the Oslo Accords in 1994, a political, economic, and bureaucratic class developed and entrenched itself within the structures of occupation. This class’s interests became increasingly aligned with the continued existence of the occupation, particularly in the absence of any real Palestinian sovereignty over the territories ostensibly under its administration.
This emerging elite—comprising key figures within the Palestinian Authority, segments of its bureaucratic apparatus, and businesspeople linked to the Israeli economy—adopted a firm stance against armed resistance. They viewed it as a threat to the political project based on negotiations. Over time, this position hardened, and in recent years, the Authority has effectively transformed into a security apparatus working in coordination with the Israeli occupation to suppress any form of resistance in the West Bank, including nonviolent ones.
As armed resistance in Gaza intensified—particularly during major confrontations with Israel in recent years, and especially after October 7, 2023—and new armed formations began emerging in the West Bank, the Palestinian Authority’s rhetoric against such movements escalated. Resistance groups were increasingly accused of spreading chaos and endangering “national interests.” Based on this framing, security campaigns against these groups were launched—often in cooperation with Israeli forces.
In reality, this internal opposition has not only weakened the Palestinian resistance but also facilitated the expansion of Israeli control over the West Bank. Through a complex system of security coordination, suppression of activists, and efforts to dismantle the popular base of support for resistance, the occupation has entrenched itself further.
This dynamic has also cemented a web of mutual interests between the Palestinian Authority and the Israeli occupation, encompassing work permits, trade, financial coordination, and tax transfers. As a result, the continuation of the occupation becomes a prerequisite for the continuation of the current governance model. In this sense, opposition to armed resistance within the Palestinian context cannot be separated from its deeper structural dimensions. It reflects an unspoken, yet objective, alliance between the occupying power and segments of the local elite who perceive resistance as a dual threat—politically to their power base and practically to their security.
Thus, even in the face of horrifying war crimes, genocide, and ethnic cleansing committed by Israel in Gaza for over a year and a half, and amid the destruction and forced displacement of communities in the northern West Bank, the dominant political forces within the Palestinian Authority have continued to oppose the resistance in all its forms. More than that, they have actively coordinated with the occupation authorities in efforts to crush it.
What we are witnessing today—particularly in Gaza—is a wide-ranging campaign led by the various factions and institutions of the Palestinian Authority against the Palestinian resistance. Their demands and objectives increasingly align with those of the Israeli occupation, creating a convergence that mirrors historical colonial examples: internal opposition to armed resistance often amounts to opposition to any genuine transformation that might dismantle the structures sustaining the current regime.
Historical experience shows that internal opposition to armed resistance has consistently been one of the most serious obstacles to national liberation movements. Not only does it facilitate the dominance of colonial or occupying powers, but it also sows division within the resistance itself and gives rise to political and social elites whose very survival depends on the continuation of colonial or occupation structures.
In the Palestinian case, the current political paralysis and the failure of the statehood project cannot be understood without unpacking this structural complicity between a segment of the Palestinian elite and the Israeli occupation. This alliance is most clearly manifested in the war against all forms of resistance—armed or otherwise—under the guise of political realism or pragmatic rationality.
Ahmad Awad is the founder and director of the Phenix Center for Economic Studies, specializes in human rights and socio-economic issues. He is also advocate for human rights and promoting democracy and civil society at local, Arab, and international levels.
