From Mass Action to Collective Impotence: A Critical Reading of the Transformations of Palestinian Consciousness

In recent years, Palestinian society has been experiencing a profound and shocking transformation in its psychological, social, and political structure, reflected in an unprecedented collective retreat. From a consciousness that once embodied a liberation project spearheaded by neighborhoods, camps, and unions, it is now burdened by impotence and hesitation, facing a reality no less dangerous than the major milestones of the occupation in the national memory.

This article seeks to read the Palestinian situation from the perspective of painful questions, questions that are not reassuring, but rather raise the anxiety necessary to understand the situation comprehensively and the pain of a sense of collapse:

How did we move from a popular uprising that broke the monopoly on decision-making and imposed a new reality, to a state of deadly silence in the face of scenes of mass loss?

- What eroded first: references, or people's ability to act?

Is what remains of political culture capable of restoring meaning, or even producing a new horizon?

In confronting these questions, the goal is not to seek quick answers, but rather to open the door to deeper contemplation of the nature of the transformations that have afflicted Palestinian consciousness, obscuring its ability to act and thrusting it into a cycle of endless waiting. We are not only experiencing a crisis of political representation, but also a gradual collapse of the collective structure of meaning, where concepts such as "homeland," "liberation," and "dignity" have become suspended slogans, disconnected from people's daily experience and even threatened with losing their very symbolic presence.

Since the 1987 Intifada, Palestinian society has witnessed the birth of a new popular consciousness, led by grassroots initiatives rather than official institutions. This consciousness has redefined the relationship between leadership and the people, and between identity and the tools of struggle. Neighborhoods, camps, mosques, and unions have become arenas for mass action, transforming everyday tools into platforms for resistance and the public sphere into an open arena for shaping collective consciousness based on engagement and participation, rather than acceptance and compliance.

At that moment, Palestinians were not merely spectators, but rather the center of action. They transcended narrow partisan representation and became part of a broader struggle based on self-organization, a unified collective will, and confidence in the ability to effect change. However, this model did not last long in the face of the profound political transformations that followed the signing of the Oslo Accords in 1993. The agreement was not a transitional settlement, but rather a moment of restructuring the entire Palestinian landscape, based on authoritarian and bureaucratic foundations.

Oslo produced a new elite, politically protected and internationally funded, that replaced the tools of liberation with tools of management. It consolidated the concept of "authority" as an end, not a means, and of "the state" as an entity lacking sovereignty, existing under occupation. With this transformation, the role of the PLO as a unifying representative eroded, and it became a symbolic entity lacking the capacity to encompass all Palestinians. This coincided with the fragmentation of the national geography and the retreat of major authorities, opening the door to a new phase of institutional fragmentation and political vacuum.

But what's more dangerous than the political transformation is the accompanying gradual disintegration of the structure of Palestinian collective consciousness: from a cumulative, resistant consciousness to a confused, fragile consciousness, lacking the cultural and political incubators capable of fortifying it, and finding itself unable to confront, or even dream. This has been fueled by the systematic erosion of the tools of national mobilization, whether through deliberate neglect or policies that marginalized popular action and emptied it of its substance. With the escalation of Israeli aggression, from the Al-Aqsa Intifada to the Jerusalem uprisings, it became clear that the official establishment no longer mobilized the street, but rather controlled its rhythm in a way that did not disrupt the logic of existing stability. This trajectory aligned with the "economic peace" approach, which views calm as an end in itself and replaces collective struggle with the requirements of the international coordination club under the existing occupation.

In this context, popular anger was tamed within bureaucratic, conditional, and controlled frameworks. Protest became subject to approvals, and public spaces were restricted to low ceilings, leading to the erosion of collective awareness as a driving force for change. Instead of moments of engagement serving as catalysts for popular uprisings, they became occasions for entrenching official impotence and deepening a culture of subservience, amid the absence of cultural tools capable of inspiring a spirit of rejection and resistance.

The October 2023 war on Gaza was a revealing moment for these transformations. Despite the scale of the humanitarian catastrophe, the Palestinian street—neither in the West Bank, nor in the interior, nor in the diaspora—did not witness a popular explosion commensurate with the event, as had been expected. The reactions were lackluster, fragmented, and devoid of leadership and vision. This moment revealed the extent of the disintegration of the relationship between the people and the elites, and the depth of the crisis in the structure of consciousness itself, not just in the system of governance or political representation.

But reducing the crisis to the occupation's repression alone is a gross oversimplification. There are internal, cumulative causes that preceded the Gaza moment, most notably the loss of confidence in the political process, the erosion of a unified national identity, and the rise of the discourse of individual survival at the expense of the idea of the group and liberation. The containment of civil society through conditional funding also played a role in emptying institutions of their popular dimension, transforming them from pressure tools to absorption tools. They lost their educational function, became disconnected from their grassroots base, and contributed to the entrenchment of a culture of reception rather than initiative.

Despite the bleak political reality and the disintegration of established authorities, what is growing outside the traditional framework heralds the birth of a resistance consciousness that does not await institutional approval or follow the elites. "Popular resistance movements and independent cultural initiatives" are all indicators of a gradual shift in the structure of collective consciousness, from organizational affiliation to independent action, and from rigid loyalty to free initiative.

It is a consciousness that is nourished by dignity and despair, but it does not retreat, but rather repositions itself in daily, spontaneous and steadfast actions that redefine the relationship with the homeland and test the meaning of liberation in local and societal terms, not just in grand slogans.

However, this new awareness faces structural challenges that cannot be ignored: the persistence of division, the absence of unifying leadership, the tyranny of the occupation, and the closed-mindedness of the authoritarian structure to change. The new generation, which did not live through the era of the uprisings, is experiencing an emotional disconnect from the national project and is confronted by a gap between ambition and possibility, fueled by institutions based on mutual benefit rather than achievement or representation. Ironically, this generation, politically excluded, is itself the largest producer of cultural resistance, granting culture a strategic role in restoring trust and building a new horizon.

Hence, the restoration of the national project begins at the societal level, not at the decision-making centers whose experience and tools have been exhausted. What is required today is to dismantle the structure of division as a symbol of failure, and to liberate the political sphere from the monopoly of obstructive elites. We need a new liberation discourse that restores respect for popular cultural and social action, and transforms popular struggle into a horizon open to initiative and awareness, not to control and slogans. For this project to regain its meaning and strength, it must be transformed into a living daily practice in which all segments of society participate, based on a unified awareness and a shared dream of a free and just future.