Hostages as Leverage: What Is Hamas' Gamble in Gaza?

Fighters from Hamas in Khan Younis on February 20. (Reuters)
Fighters from Hamas in Khan Younis on February 20. (Reuters)
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Hostages as Leverage: What Is Hamas' Gamble in Gaza?

Fighters from Hamas in Khan Younis on February 20. (Reuters)
Fighters from Hamas in Khan Younis on February 20. (Reuters)

Despite heavy setbacks since the start of Israel's war on Gaza in October 2023, Hamas continues to project defiance and resilience against the Jewish state.

In recent days, the group has pursued a political track despite a surprise Israeli strikes on Gaza early on Tuesday that killed hundreds of Palestinians, including several Hamas leaders and fighters.

The group held back from a military response until the third day of the renewed escalation, launching only three rockets toward Tel Aviv.

Analysts say both sides are using military pressure to gain leverage, particularly after Israel expanded its limited ground operations in key areas, including the Netzarim corridor, which separates northern Gaza from its central and southern regions.

Since the war began, Hamas has relied on its main bargaining chip—the Israeli hostages in its custody.

The group surprised Tel Aviv with the number of living captives, a fact revealed during the first phase of a ceasefire that began on January 19 and lasted 42 days before continuing unofficially.

Tensions escalated again after 58 days, culminating in a series of assassinations targeting senior Hamas figures.

Despite the Israeli attacks, Hamas continues to prioritize the political route, holding firm to its key bargaining chip—the Israeli hostages.

The group remains confident that the hostages represent its strongest leverage, especially as it monitors developments within Israeli society, particularly the pressure from families of the captives on Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's government.

This pressure is mounting for the government to pursue a prisoner swap, alongside Israel's clear intent to use military force to recover the hostages. Hamas sees this as a strategic opportunity.

Sources within Hamas told Asharq Al-Awsat that the group has numerous cards to play and believes these could ultimately force Israel to accept a permanent ceasefire. While the Israeli captives are a pivotal factor, they are not the only leverage Hamas holds.

The sources added that the group has military tactics at its disposal, which could be employed on the ground if negotiations fail and reach a deadlock.

Hamas aims to avoid appearing weak both to Israel and the Palestinian public, insisting on the withdrawal of Israeli forces from all parts of Gaza, including the Salah al-Din, or Philadelphi, corridor.

Sources within Hamas stress that the group has no option but to restore Gaza to its pre-October 7, 2023, status to secure breathing space. Once that is achieved, Hamas would be open to transferring power to the Palestinian Authority or to a government formed through national Palestinian consensus.

Hamas is betting on its ability to retain control over Gaza, despite Israeli strikes, allowing it to claim that it has thwarted efforts to topple its rule.

Over 15 months of military conflict, Israel has failed to completely dismantle Hamas's military and governance capabilities.

While the group was forced to operate in a limited capacity due to Israeli efforts to target its leaders at various levels, it regained strength in areas from which Israeli forces withdrew.

Furthermore, Hamas quickly regained momentum after the ceasefire, as evidenced by the resumption of its government ministries, political bodies, and the military wing: the al-Qassam Brigades. This was particularly evident during the handover of Israeli captives.

Hamas appears to rely on its continued support base in Gaza, despite heavy losses, and remains firm in refusing to compromise on certain demands.

Sources within Hamas told Asharq Al-Awsat that it is natural for the group to rely on its loyalist base in Gaza to continue resisting Israel.

This strategy is not new for Palestinian factions, which have faced significant setbacks over decades but have consistently emerged stronger and more resilient after each blow.

Hamas acknowledges that the situation in Gaza may have changed after the war, but likens it to Israel's Operation Defensive Shield in the West Bank in 2002.

While Israel succeeded in dismantling many Palestinian factions' cells at the time, those groups later re-emerged and became active again. This, the sources say, underscores the failure of Israel's military approach, which has never decisively won any battle.

Recently, Hamas has sought to demonstrate its strength in Gaza's streets. Dozens of its fighters took part in military displays, and members of its police and security forces were seen conducting arrests of suspects involved in both criminal and security-related activities.

The group also reactivated new and partially damaged facilities for its security forces.

During the first phase of the ceasefire, which lasted 42 days and extended for an additional 16 days due to efforts to prolong the agreement, Asharq Al-Awsat observed an increase in Gaza residents visiting police stations to file complaints, including some related to criminal cases.

Civilian staff from various ministries also carried out tasks, such as monitoring market prices.

After recent assassinations and the resumption of fighting by Israel, the future actions of Hamas remain uncertain, particularly if the current wave of violence continues.

Hamas leaders from various political, military, and governmental levels have once again gone into hiding, and the group has struggled to control rising market prices, which has significantly impacted ordinary Gazans.

Sources within Hamas told Asharq Al-Awsat that the assassinated leaders—such as Issam al-Daalis, Yasser Harb, and Mohamed al-Jamasi—were crucial in restructuring the group's organizational and governmental operations.

This suggests that Israel has dealt a significant blow to Hamas by targeting key leaders who were tasked with revitalizing the movement and regaining full control over Gaza once the war ends.

Many believe that Hamas's popularity has waned, even among some of its supporters, due to the devastating impact of the war on Palestinians and Israel's threats of further displacement. Additionally, there is increasing public criticism of Hamas' October 7, 2023, attack, with some questioning the disastrous consequences it has had for the Palestinian people.

Despite a decline in both its popularity and legitimacy, some view Hamas's potential willingness to cede power not as a sign of weakness but as an effort to avoid a larger, more prolonged conflict that could decimate the remaining leadership and active members of the group.

Hamas sources maintain that the group's leadership is united in its readiness to relinquish control, but only if there is a national consensus.

This decision, they insist, will not be made in response to Israeli or US pressure to remove the group from the Palestinian political landscape.

The group remains focused on preventing further conflict for Gaza's residents, emphasizing that their primary concern is not just their own survival but the well-being of the population, according to Hamas sources.

Some analysts believe that Hamas will remain a key player in Palestinian politics for many years to come, whether publicly or in the shadows—even if it steps down from governing Gaza after the current war.



They Fled Syria Years Ago. Now, they Spend their First Ramadan Back amid Nostalgia, Relief and Loss

Displaced Syrian women prepare food at a makeshift camp in Idlib on May 23, 2019. (AFP)
Displaced Syrian women prepare food at a makeshift camp in Idlib on May 23, 2019. (AFP)
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They Fled Syria Years Ago. Now, they Spend their First Ramadan Back amid Nostalgia, Relief and Loss

Displaced Syrian women prepare food at a makeshift camp in Idlib on May 23, 2019. (AFP)
Displaced Syrian women prepare food at a makeshift camp in Idlib on May 23, 2019. (AFP)

When Mariam Aabour learned of the ouster of Syrian leader Bashar Assad, she shed tears of joy. But as the time came to return to her homeland from Lebanon – where she fled years earlier – Aabour felt torn.
She was happy about the homecoming, but sad to leave behind a son and a stepson who remained in Lebanon to work and pay off family debts. Months before her return, Aabour’s father died in Syria without her seeing him. Her Syrian home has been destroyed and there’s no money to rebuild, she said.
Thus it’s been bittersweet experiencing her first Ramadan – the Muslim holy month – since her return, The Associated Press said.
“We’ve all lost dear ones,” she said. “Even after our return, we still cry over the tragedies that we’ve lived through.”
As they spend their first Ramadan in years in their homeland, many Syrians who’ve recently trickled back in from abroad have been celebrating the end of the Assad family’s rule in December after a fast-paced opposition offensive. They are relishing some new freedoms and savoring some old traces of the lives they once knew.
They enjoy family reunions but many also face challenges as they adjust to a country ravaged by a prolonged civil war and now grappling with a complex transition. As they do, they grieve personal and communal losses: Killed and missing loved ones, their absence amplified during Ramadan. Destroyed or damaged homes. And family gatherings shattered by the exodus of millions.
A time for daily fasting and heightened worship, Ramadan also often sees joyous get-togethers with relatives over food and juices.
Aabour – one of the more than 370,000 Syrians the United Nations' refugee agency, UNHCR, says have returned to the country since Assad’s ouster – delights in hearing the call to prayer from mosques signaling the end of the daily fast. In her Lebanon neighborhood, she said, there were no nearby mosques and she relied on phones to know when to break the fast.
The hardest part, she added, is sitting for the fast-breaking meal known as “iftar” without some loved ones, including her father and a son, who she said was killed before the family fled Syria.
She bitterly recalled how her child, who she said was about 10 when killed, liked a rice and peas dish for iftar and would energetically help her, carrying dishes from the kitchen.
“I used to tell him, ‘You’re too young,’ but he would say, ‘No, I want to help you,’” she said, sitting on the floor in her in-laws’ house which her family now shares with relatives.
Faraj al-Mashash, her husband, said he’s not currently working, accumulating more debt and caring for an ill father.
The family borrowed money to fix his father’s home in Daraya. It was damaged and looted, but still standing.
Many Daraya homes aren’t.
Part of Rural Damascus and known for its grapes and its furniture workshops, Daraya was one of the centers of the uprising against Assad. The conflict devolved into armed insurgency and civil war after Assad crushed what started as largely peaceful protests; this Ramadan, Syrians marked the 14th anniversary of the civil war’s start.
Daraya suffered killings and saw massive damage during fighting. It endured years of government besiegement and aerial campaigns before a deal was struck between the government and opposition factions in 2016 that resulted in the evacuation of fighters and civilians and control ceded to the government.
Today, in parts of Daraya, children and others walk past walls with gaping holes in crumbling buildings. In some areas, a clothesline or bright-colored water tank provides glimpses of lives unfolding among ruins or charred walls.
Despite it all, al-Mashash said, it’s home.
“Isn’t Daraya destroyed? But I feel like I am in heaven.”
Still, “there’s sadness,” he added. “A place is only beautiful with its people in it. Buildings can be rebuilt, but when a person is gone, they don’t come back.”
In Lebanon, al-Mashash struggled financially and was homesick for Daraya, for the familiar faces that used to greet him on its streets. Shortly after Assad’s ouster, he returned.
This Ramadan, he’s re-lived some traditions, inviting people for iftar and getting invited, and praying at a mosque where he has cherished memories.
Some of those who had left Daraya, and now returned to Syria, say their homes have been obliterated or are in no condition for them to stay there. Some of them are living elsewhere in an apartment complex that had previously housed Assad-era military officers and is now sheltering some families, mostly ones who've returned from internal displacement.
The majority of those who've returned to Syria since Assad's removal came from countries in the region, including Lebanon, Jordan and Türkiye, said Celine Schmitt, UNHCR’s spokesperson in Syria.
A main security fear for returnees is unexploded mines, Schmitt said, adding UNHCR provides “mine awareness sessions” in its community centers. It also offers legal awareness for those needing IDs, birth certificates or property documents and has provided free transportation for some who came from Jordan and Türkiye, she said.
The needs of returnees, so far a fraction of those who’ve left, are varied and big – from work and basic services to house repairs or construction. Many, Schmitt said, hope for financial help to start a small business or rebuild, adding that more funding is needed.
“We’re calling on all of our donors,” she said. “There’s an opportunity now to solve one of the biggest displacement crises in the world, because people want to go back.”
Many of those who haven't returned cite economic challenges and “the huge challenges they see in Syria” as some of the reasons, she said.
In January, UN High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi said living conditions in the country must improve for the return of Syrians to be sustainable.
Umaya Moussa, also from Daraya, said she fled Syria to Lebanon in 2013, returning recently as a mother of four, two of whom had never seen Syria before.
Moussa, 38, recalls, at one point, fleeing an area while pregnant and terrified, carrying her daughter and clutching her husband’s hand. The horrors have haunted her.
“I’d remember so many events that would leave me unable to sleep,” she said. “Whenever I closed my eyes, I would scream and cry and have nightmares.”
In Lebanon, she lived for a while in a camp, where she shared the kitchen and bathroom with others. “We were humiliated ..., but it was still better than the fear we’ve lived through.”
She’d yearned for the usual Ramadan family gatherings.
For the first iftar this year, she broke her fast with her family, including brothers who, she said, as fighters against the Assad government, had previously moved to then opposition-controlled Idlib province.
Missing from the Ramadan meal was her father who died while Moussa was away.
Like Moussa, Saeed Kamel is intimately familiar with the pain of a joy incomplete. This Ramadan, he visited the grave of his mother who had died when he was in Lebanon.
“I told her that we’ve returned but we didn’t find her,” he said, wiping away tears.
And it wasn’t just her. Kamel had been hopeful that with Assad gone, they would find a missing brother in his prisons; they didn’t.
Kamel had vowed never to return to a Syria ruled by Assad, saying he felt like a stranger in his country. His home, he said, was damaged and looted.
But despite any difficulties, he held out hope. At least, he said, “the next generation will live with dignity, God willing.”
Kamel fondly recalled how – before their worlds changed – his family would exchange visits with others for most of Ramadan and neighbors would send each other iftar dishes.
“Ramadan is not nice without the family gatherings,” he said. “Now, one can barely manage.”
He can’t feel the same Ramadan spirit as before.
“The good thing,” he said, “is that Ramadan came while we’re liberated.”