Israel and Hamas... When the two enemies fear the end of the war

In the heart of this devastation, amid the rubble of homes, the bodies of children, and the cries of mothers, lies a paradox that we Palestinians, who have learned to read war not only by the rubble it leaves behind, but also by the intentions it reveals, cannot ignore. The bitter irony is that the two warring parties—Israel and Hamas—despite their apparent differences and bloody enmity, appear to be afraid of one thing: that the war will end.

This may seem crazy to those on the outside looking in, to those who imagine that a ceasefire means a return to life, and that endings always hold a glimmer of hope. But we—who have lived under bombardment and known the faces of the barricades on both sides—know that war is not just a struggle for territory, but also a battle to stay at the forefront. And that its end could mean the collapse of entire narratives, apparatuses, and systems.

Israel, still reeling from the shock of October 7, is striving to restore its image as a strong, impenetrable state. But the truth, as we know it, is that war is no longer just a means of restoring deterrence, but rather a thick blanket covering the incompetence of the Israeli political system. Netanyahu, who dragged the country into this confrontation while besieged by corruption and divisions, sees war as a personal, not just national, lifeline. Every additional day of fighting means a postponement of accountability, the removal of his opponents, and the stifling of internal debate. Victory, however, is not so much desired as postponed; because victory, in this case, signifies a moment of decision: Who will govern Gaza? Who will prevent the next explosion? These are unanswerable questions in the mind of the Israeli establishment, which therefore prefers to remain in a state of constant conflict.

As for us, in the West Bank, the diaspora, and inside Israel, we look at Gaza with torn hearts. Not only because blood is flowing, but because we see how the tragedy is being hijacked to be reframed as a means of authority. Hamas, despite all it has offered in resisting the occupation, now fears that the war will end because what comes after it will be difficult for it: files will besiege it from within and without, and voices will bitterly ask: Why all this destruction? Who benefits? Was there a vision, or was it just a leap into the unknown? The questions coming after the war are more dangerous than bullets, because they touch on the essence of legitimacy, the feasibility of choices, and the responsibility of decisions.

We Palestinians no longer want narratives of abstract heroism, but rather clarity. We want to know where the blood is taking us. We want to stop being repeatedly ordered to the altar for goals that are not stated clearly. War, in this form, does not liberate land, nor does it overthrow an occupation; rather, it reproduces authority from the heart of the wreckage. Each side holds onto our corpses to craft a discourse of survival, not a program of liberation.

But can the war really end? And does anyone have the courage to say, "Enough?" The end of the war is not just a ceasefire, but the breaking of an entire structure of interests, silence, and mummified rhetoric. It's a moment many do not want, because they have built their existence on the continuation of the bloodshed.

Yet, we—the people—alone have the right to impose this end. We are not mere victims or spectators. We are the owners of the land, the owners of the blood, and the owners of the dream. It is enough for us to declare clearly that this war, like so many others, was not for us, and we can begin to extract meaning from the jaws of devastation.

The end of the war doesn't frighten us. Rather, it opens a path toward a bigger question: How do we reclaim our national project from the rubble? How do we build true unity, not unity under bombardment? How do we break this absurd repetition that has transformed our cause from a liberation struggle into a bloody theater of power and arms conflicts?

In the end, those who do not fear peace and do not prepare for it will not win. As for those who fear that the war will end, they know that it is the moment of reckoning. And we, this people who have not been broken despite everything, it is time to demand that moment, not as a truce, but as a right.