Many analysts and observers are quick to jump to conclusions about the future of Islamic movements here or there, including Hamas, which today faces one of the most severe and complex tests in its history. The challenge is not only existential in military and security terms, but also internal: reaching consensus within the movement on how to confront a threat that targets not only Hamas itself but the entire Palestinian political project.
In the “day after the Gaza war,” Hamas faces existential and strategic questions. The first set of these is beyond its control, tied to international and regional agendas: What role will Hamas play in Gaza’s next phase? Will it be politically integrated or excluded? What will be the fate of its leaders inside and outside the Strip? And what of its military wing and weapons? The second set of questions, however, concerns the movement’s own choices and answers — decisions that could in turn reshape the first set of external outcomes.
Jumping to forecast the future of Hamas in broad strokes, therefore, is premature — not unlike the overconfident predictions of the 1990s about the “end of political Islam.” Why? Because the fate of Hamas is intertwined with a vast matrix of shifting variables: regional dynamics marked by deep uncertainty and conflicting agendas — Israeli, American, Iranian, and Arab; Palestinian realities in both the West Bank and Gaza; and the movement’s own internal questions of leadership, cohesion, and ideological direction, especially after the loss of many of its key figures.
Despite this complex web of variables, three dimensions stand out as particularly critical for understanding Hamas’s future trajectory: the geopolitical environment; the composition and strategic choices of the political elite within the movement; and the relationship between Hamas and its social base — in Gaza, the West Bank, and the diaspora.
Hamas currently suffers from the absence of any solid strategic ally at the regional or international level. The so-called “Axis of Resistance” had, for years, provided substantial military and financial support, shaping a regional balance of power that gave rise to the doctrine of the “Unity of Fronts” — even if more symbolic than operational. Today, there is no clear regional alternative capable of sustaining Hamas politically or strategically.
The American and European agendas still classify Hamas as an illegitimate and “terrorist” organization. Regionally, most of the so-called Arab “moderate states” may maintain temporary or tactical contact with Hamas but remain opposed to it politically and strategically. Turkey, for its part, cannot realistically substitute for Iran. Its highly pragmatic foreign policy has, in recent years, prioritized reconciliation with Arab states, deepened ties with the Trump administration, and focused on its own strategic interests in Syria.
This fluid strategic environment could, however, change. Much will depend on the agenda of Benjamin Netanyahu’s far-right government: Will there be a push toward the “regional peace” vision once promoted by Trump, or will Israeli policies lead instead to heightened regional instability? The trajectory of Israeli-Iranian relations and Israel’s approach toward the West Bank and Jerusalem will also shape the coming landscape — especially since Netanyahu’s governments have shown little distinction in their rejection of both Fatah and Hamas.
Given this regional uncertainty, an equally important question is whether any current within Hamas’s leadership is willing to reopen pragmatic channels with the Arab regional environment — a move that would require significant ideological and political recalibration. Such a shift is difficult but not impossible.
Hamas has already undergone several major strategic “turns”: from alignment with the Resistance Axis to distancing itself during the Syrian uprising, to rapprochement with Turkey during the Arab Spring, and, later, after 2020 — under the dominance of Hamas-Gaza — to renewed closeness with Iran. That shift marginalized Khaled Meshaal and the external political bureau.
This brings us to the second crucial variable: internal leadership dynamics. Hamas was expected to hold its internal elections last year, but military and security conditions — and the assassination of numerous senior leaders — disrupted that process, leaving a vacuum at the top. Sources close to the movement indicate that internal debates are underway over foundational questions: Is Hamas primarily a jihadist movement with a political wing, or a political movement with a military arm? How should authority be distributed between the political and military branches? In recent years, the latter has increasingly influenced the former — including in setting regional alliances.
The tension between the “inside” and “outside” leadership has always been part of Hamas’s internal politics, though never as sharply as today. In the 1990s, the external leadership under Meshaal and Abu Marzouk gained prominence, especially while many Gaza and West Bank leaders were imprisoned. That configuration changed dramatically after the Syrian conflict, leading to the ascendancy of Hamas-Gaza and the decline of Hamas-abroad — and the near disappearance of Hamas-West Bank as a meaningful actor.
Looking ahead, leadership transitions remain unclear. However, the devastation expected in Gaza could strengthen the external, pragmatic camp led by Khaled Meshaal — who was entirely uninvolved in planning the Al-Aqsa Flood operation. Known for his flexibility and emphasis on political realism, Meshaal’s current may seek to steer Hamas back toward broader regional engagement. This was already reflected in the movement’s 2017 political document, which marked a significant evolution from its founding charter — toning down religious absolutism and adopting a more political vocabulary.
How strong, then, is this pragmatic current? Could Meshaal return to leadership after the Gaza-based command, closely aligned with the Qassam Brigades, tested its approach in Al-Aqsa Flood with far-reaching consequences? The next phase may indeed call for a leadership less constrained by the daily pressures of besieged Gaza.
Meshaal and Abu Marzouk remain prominent figures abroad. Others, like Osama Hamdan — historically close to the Resistance Axis — and Ghazi Hamad, appear more distant from current leadership calculations. Inside Gaza, figures such as Tawfiq Abu Naim, Mahmoud al-Zahar, and Izz al-Din Haddad remain influential, alongside other field commanders.
Equally significant is the relationship between Hamas and its social base — primarily the Palestinian public, whether in Gaza, the West Bank, or the diaspora. This dimension interacts strongly with the previous two.
If the external, pragmatic leadership were to regain prominence, re-enter regional diplomacy, and achieve some degree of international legitimacy — even a limited easing of Western and Arab opposition — this could revitalize Hamas’s social support not only in Gaza but across Palestinian society. Some in Gaza, including intellectual figures like Dr. Ahmed Yousef — a respected thinker within Hamas but marginalized for his earlier disagreements with Yahya Sinwar and the Gaza-based leadership — might align with this outward-looking vision.
Some observers may view any political or ideological flexibility as a betrayal of Hamas’s identity after such immense sacrifice. Yet the movement has a long record of adaptation — revising alliances, recalibrating strategy, and even reworking its ideological discourse. A simple comparison between the original charter and the 2017 political document reveals how far it has evolved.
Today, Hamas faces no choice but to engage with the structural transformations of its regional, international, and Palestinian environments — in both Gaza and the West Bank. That will require exceptional levels of political agility, strategic intelligence, and a nuanced reading of regional power dynamic.
Many analysts and observers are quick to jump to conclusions about the future of Islamic movements here or there, including Hamas, which today faces one of the most severe and complex tests in its history. The challenge is not only existential in military and security terms, but also internal: reaching consensus within the movement on how to confront a threat that targets not only Hamas itself but the entire Palestinian political project.
In the “day after the Gaza war,” Hamas faces existential and strategic questions. The first set of these is beyond its control, tied to international and regional agendas: What role will Hamas play in Gaza’s next phase? Will it be politically integrated or excluded? What will be the fate of its leaders inside and outside the Strip? And what of its military wing and weapons? The second set of questions, however, concerns the movement’s own choices and answers — decisions that could in turn reshape the first set of external outcomes.
Jumping to forecast the future of Hamas in broad strokes, therefore, is premature — not unlike the overconfident predictions of the 1990s about the “end of political Islam.” Why? Because the fate of Hamas is intertwined with a vast matrix of shifting variables: regional dynamics marked by deep uncertainty and conflicting agendas — Israeli, American, Iranian, and Arab; Palestinian realities in both the West Bank and Gaza; and the movement’s own internal questions of leadership, cohesion, and ideological direction, especially after the loss of many of its key figures.
Despite this complex web of variables, three dimensions stand out as particularly critical for understanding Hamas’s future trajectory: the geopolitical environment; the composition and strategic choices of the political elite within the movement; and the relationship between Hamas and its social base — in Gaza, the West Bank, and the diaspora.
Hamas currently suffers from the absence of any solid strategic ally at the regional or international level. The so-called “Axis of Resistance” had, for years, provided substantial military and financial support, shaping a regional balance of power that gave rise to the doctrine of the “Unity of Fronts” — even if more symbolic than operational. Today, there is no clear regional alternative capable of sustaining Hamas politically or strategically.
The American and European agendas still classify Hamas as an illegitimate and “terrorist” organization. Regionally, most of the so-called Arab “moderate states” may maintain temporary or tactical contact with Hamas but remain opposed to it politically and strategically. Turkey, for its part, cannot realistically substitute for Iran. Its highly pragmatic foreign policy has, in recent years, prioritized reconciliation with Arab states, deepened ties with the Trump administration, and focused on its own strategic interests in Syria.
This fluid strategic environment could, however, change. Much will depend on the agenda of Benjamin Netanyahu’s far-right government: Will there be a push toward the “regional peace” vision once promoted by Trump, or will Israeli policies lead instead to heightened regional instability? The trajectory of Israeli-Iranian relations and Israel’s approach toward the West Bank and Jerusalem will also shape the coming landscape — especially since Netanyahu’s governments have shown little distinction in their rejection of both Fatah and Hamas.
Given this regional uncertainty, an equally important question is whether any current within Hamas’s leadership is willing to reopen pragmatic channels with the Arab regional environment — a move that would require significant ideological and political recalibration. Such a shift is difficult but not impossible.
Hamas has already undergone several major strategic “turns”: from alignment with the Resistance Axis to distancing itself during the Syrian uprising, to rapprochement with Turkey during the Arab Spring, and, later, after 2020 — under the dominance of Hamas-Gaza — to renewed closeness with Iran. That shift marginalized Khaled Meshaal and the external political bureau.
This brings us to the second crucial variable: internal leadership dynamics. Hamas was expected to hold its internal elections last year, but military and security conditions — and the assassination of numerous senior leaders — disrupted that process, leaving a vacuum at the top. Sources close to the movement indicate that internal debates are underway over foundational questions: Is Hamas primarily a jihadist movement with a political wing, or a political movement with a military arm? How should authority be distributed between the political and military branches? In recent years, the latter has increasingly influenced the former — including in setting regional alliances.
The tension between the “inside” and “outside” leadership has always been part of Hamas’s internal politics, though never as sharply as today. In the 1990s, the external leadership under Meshaal and Abu Marzouk gained prominence, especially while many Gaza and West Bank leaders were imprisoned. That configuration changed dramatically after the Syrian conflict, leading to the ascendancy of Hamas-Gaza and the decline of Hamas-abroad — and the near disappearance of Hamas-West Bank as a meaningful actor.
Looking ahead, leadership transitions remain unclear. However, the devastation expected in Gaza could strengthen the external, pragmatic camp led by Khaled Meshaal — who was entirely uninvolved in planning the Al-Aqsa Flood operation. Known for his flexibility and emphasis on political realism, Meshaal’s current may seek to steer Hamas back toward broader regional engagement. This was already reflected in the movement’s 2017 political document, which marked a significant evolution from its founding charter — toning down religious absolutism and adopting a more political vocabulary.
How strong, then, is this pragmatic current? Could Meshaal return to leadership after the Gaza-based command, closely aligned with the Qassam Brigades, tested its approach in Al-Aqsa Flood with far-reaching consequences? The next phase may indeed call for a leadership less constrained by the daily pressures of besieged Gaza.
Meshaal and Abu Marzouk remain prominent figures abroad. Others, like Osama Hamdan — historically close to the Resistance Axis — and Ghazi Hamad, appear more distant from current leadership calculations. Inside Gaza, figures such as Tawfiq Abu Naim, Mahmoud al-Zahar, and Izz al-Din Haddad remain influential, alongside other field commanders.
Equally significant is the relationship between Hamas and its social base — primarily the Palestinian public, whether in Gaza, the West Bank, or the diaspora. This dimension interacts strongly with the previous two.
If the external, pragmatic leadership were to regain prominence, re-enter regional diplomacy, and achieve some degree of international legitimacy — even a limited easing of Western and Arab opposition — this could revitalize Hamas’s social support not only in Gaza but across Palestinian society. Some in Gaza, including intellectual figures like Dr. Ahmed Yousef — a respected thinker within Hamas but marginalized for his earlier disagreements with Yahya Sinwar and the Gaza-based leadership — might align with this outward-looking vision.
Some observers may view any political or ideological flexibility as a betrayal of Hamas’s identity after such immense sacrifice. Yet the movement has a long record of adaptation — revising alliances, recalibrating strategy, and even reworking its ideological discourse. A simple comparison between the original charter and the 2017 political document reveals how far it has evolved.
Today, Hamas faces no choice but to engage with the structural transformations of its regional, international, and Palestinian environments — in both Gaza and the West Bank. That will require exceptional levels of political agility, strategic intelligence, and a nuanced reading of regional power dynamic.
Many analysts and observers are quick to jump to conclusions about the future of Islamic movements here or there, including Hamas, which today faces one of the most severe and complex tests in its history. The challenge is not only existential in military and security terms, but also internal: reaching consensus within the movement on how to confront a threat that targets not only Hamas itself but the entire Palestinian political project.
In the “day after the Gaza war,” Hamas faces existential and strategic questions. The first set of these is beyond its control, tied to international and regional agendas: What role will Hamas play in Gaza’s next phase? Will it be politically integrated or excluded? What will be the fate of its leaders inside and outside the Strip? And what of its military wing and weapons? The second set of questions, however, concerns the movement’s own choices and answers — decisions that could in turn reshape the first set of external outcomes.
Jumping to forecast the future of Hamas in broad strokes, therefore, is premature — not unlike the overconfident predictions of the 1990s about the “end of political Islam.” Why? Because the fate of Hamas is intertwined with a vast matrix of shifting variables: regional dynamics marked by deep uncertainty and conflicting agendas — Israeli, American, Iranian, and Arab; Palestinian realities in both the West Bank and Gaza; and the movement’s own internal questions of leadership, cohesion, and ideological direction, especially after the loss of many of its key figures.
Despite this complex web of variables, three dimensions stand out as particularly critical for understanding Hamas’s future trajectory: the geopolitical environment; the composition and strategic choices of the political elite within the movement; and the relationship between Hamas and its social base — in Gaza, the West Bank, and the diaspora.
Hamas currently suffers from the absence of any solid strategic ally at the regional or international level. The so-called “Axis of Resistance” had, for years, provided substantial military and financial support, shaping a regional balance of power that gave rise to the doctrine of the “Unity of Fronts” — even if more symbolic than operational. Today, there is no clear regional alternative capable of sustaining Hamas politically or strategically.
The American and European agendas still classify Hamas as an illegitimate and “terrorist” organization. Regionally, most of the so-called Arab “moderate states” may maintain temporary or tactical contact with Hamas but remain opposed to it politically and strategically. Turkey, for its part, cannot realistically substitute for Iran. Its highly pragmatic foreign policy has, in recent years, prioritized reconciliation with Arab states, deepened ties with the Trump administration, and focused on its own strategic interests in Syria.
This fluid strategic environment could, however, change. Much will depend on the agenda of Benjamin Netanyahu’s far-right government: Will there be a push toward the “regional peace” vision once promoted by Trump, or will Israeli policies lead instead to heightened regional instability? The trajectory of Israeli-Iranian relations and Israel’s approach toward the West Bank and Jerusalem will also shape the coming landscape — especially since Netanyahu’s governments have shown little distinction in their rejection of both Fatah and Hamas.
Given this regional uncertainty, an equally important question is whether any current within Hamas’s leadership is willing to reopen pragmatic channels with the Arab regional environment — a move that would require significant ideological and political recalibration. Such a shift is difficult but not impossible.
Hamas has already undergone several major strategic “turns”: from alignment with the Resistance Axis to distancing itself during the Syrian uprising, to rapprochement with Turkey during the Arab Spring, and, later, after 2020 — under the dominance of Hamas-Gaza — to renewed closeness with Iran. That shift marginalized Khaled Meshaal and the external political bureau.
This brings us to the second crucial variable: internal leadership dynamics. Hamas was expected to hold its internal elections last year, but military and security conditions — and the assassination of numerous senior leaders — disrupted that process, leaving a vacuum at the top. Sources close to the movement indicate that internal debates are underway over foundational questions: Is Hamas primarily a jihadist movement with a political wing, or a political movement with a military arm? How should authority be distributed between the political and military branches? In recent years, the latter has increasingly influenced the former — including in setting regional alliances.
The tension between the “inside” and “outside” leadership has always been part of Hamas’s internal politics, though never as sharply as today. In the 1990s, the external leadership under Meshaal and Abu Marzouk gained prominence, especially while many Gaza and West Bank leaders were imprisoned. That configuration changed dramatically after the Syrian conflict, leading to the ascendancy of Hamas-Gaza and the decline of Hamas-abroad — and the near disappearance of Hamas-West Bank as a meaningful actor.
Looking ahead, leadership transitions remain unclear. However, the devastation expected in Gaza could strengthen the external, pragmatic camp led by Khaled Meshaal — who was entirely uninvolved in planning the Al-Aqsa Flood operation. Known for his flexibility and emphasis on political realism, Meshaal’s current may seek to steer Hamas back toward broader regional engagement. This was already reflected in the movement’s 2017 political document, which marked a significant evolution from its founding charter — toning down religious absolutism and adopting a more political vocabulary.
How strong, then, is this pragmatic current? Could Meshaal return to leadership after the Gaza-based command, closely aligned with the Qassam Brigades, tested its approach in Al-Aqsa Flood with far-reaching consequences? The next phase may indeed call for a leadership less constrained by the daily pressures of besieged Gaza.
Meshaal and Abu Marzouk remain prominent figures abroad. Others, like Osama Hamdan — historically close to the Resistance Axis — and Ghazi Hamad, appear more distant from current leadership calculations. Inside Gaza, figures such as Tawfiq Abu Naim, Mahmoud al-Zahar, and Izz al-Din Haddad remain influential, alongside other field commanders.
Equally significant is the relationship between Hamas and its social base — primarily the Palestinian public, whether in Gaza, the West Bank, or the diaspora. This dimension interacts strongly with the previous two.
If the external, pragmatic leadership were to regain prominence, re-enter regional diplomacy, and achieve some degree of international legitimacy — even a limited easing of Western and Arab opposition — this could revitalize Hamas’s social support not only in Gaza but across Palestinian society. Some in Gaza, including intellectual figures like Dr. Ahmed Yousef — a respected thinker within Hamas but marginalized for his earlier disagreements with Yahya Sinwar and the Gaza-based leadership — might align with this outward-looking vision.
Some observers may view any political or ideological flexibility as a betrayal of Hamas’s identity after such immense sacrifice. Yet the movement has a long record of adaptation — revising alliances, recalibrating strategy, and even reworking its ideological discourse. A simple comparison between the original charter and the 2017 political document reveals how far it has evolved.
Today, Hamas faces no choice but to engage with the structural transformations of its regional, international, and Palestinian environments — in both Gaza and the West Bank. That will require exceptional levels of political agility, strategic intelligence, and a nuanced reading of regional power dynamic.
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