Mohammed al-Rumaihi
TT

How Do We Keep the Palestinian Cause – and Its People – Alive?

This question has echoed across the Arab world for over half a century. Yet, it remains taboo—unspoken, sometimes even forbidden. To raise it invites accusations of ideological betrayal, or worse, a form of "intellectual terrorism." In many circles, merely pondering it marks one as an outsider.

I don’t claim to have a final answer, but I want to offer reasons why we must ask it—and propose a sketch of a new approach.

Let me begin with a recent story.

Last week, during an open-air concert in a British city, a singer shouted from the stage: “Death to the Israeli Defense Forces.” The fallout was immediate. Britain’s Prime Minister condemned the remark. Several MPs joined the chorus of outrage. Major British and global media outlets covered the incident extensively. Leading the televised rebuttal was the head of the British Jewish community.

Yet in all the coverage, no one mentioned Gaza’s children. Not one voice raised the context: nearly two years of systematic destruction, mass displacement, and thousands of dead in the besieged Palestinian enclave. Instead, British police opened a criminal investigation, and US authorities cancelled the singer’s team’s travel visas.

The message was stark: three words from an artist drew more political and media fire than the prolonged suffering of an entire people. Such are the power dynamics we live with.

No major capital—neither Beijing, nor Moscow, nor Washington—has labelled the Gaza campaign as “systematic killing,” let alone moved to punish Israel under Chapter VII of the UN Charter. The most we hear is: “We regret... We hope...”

So we return to the opening question: How do we keep the Palestinian cause, and its people, alive?

After decades of conflict, exhaustion weighs heavily. Egypt, once the bulwark against eastern invasions like the Mongol campaign, now settles for a cold peace. Its elites argue that many of the country’s economic struggles stem from the legacy of the 1967 war. Jordan has made its own uneasy peace, prioritizing the survival of its cities. Syria, Lebanon, Iraq, Yemen—Iran too—have all paid a steep price in blood and ruin. And now, even ordinary Israelis are war-weary.

Add to this a fundamental crisis within: the Palestinian political divide. For decades, Palestinian factions have failed to agree on a framework that tolerates internal differences or outlines a shared strategy. The result is fragmentation—of politics, of purpose, of people.

The same holds for many states involved in the conflict, including Israel. Economies are strained. Political positions are fraying. Wars, it turns out, don’t resolve this conflict. Even Israel, with all its military might, has not been able to defeat Iran, nor fully subdue Gaza—despite its small geographic size and the vastness of the killing machine.

That’s why we must consider a new paradigm. The Arab world tried one in the early 2000s: the Arab Peace Initiative led by the late King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia. Land for peace. But hardliners in Israel and across the Arab region rejected it. The result? Loss of land, destruction of nations, displacement of millions.

Today, a new global mood is emerging: enough is enough. We face two paths.

One leads to a fresh approach, supported by international consensus, to implement a clear two-state solution—an effort to preserve both the cause and the people. The other is a return to hollow slogans and rhetorical battles. We’ve heard them before—from the “Rejectionist Front” after the Rogers Plan to the grandstanding of the so-called “Axis of Resistance.” They may stir the crowd, but they’ve delivered little beyond devastation.

What I propose is not a definitive solution, but a call for a Plan B: a courageous shift from armed struggle to political engagement. This road is harder—it requires immense bravery not on the battlefield, but in negotiation rooms and policy forums.

Unfortunately, the dominant discourse today remains obsessed with “who suffered more” or “who won,” as if the story ends there. It doesn’t.

As Winston Churchill once said, “Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.”

Now is the time for both.