Insights on the Sidelines of the Eighth Fatah Conference

"She left her husband lying down and went to Abu Mahmoud"

It is not a coincidence that the overwhelming flood of writings invaded social media and media platforms coinciding with the convening of the eighth general conference of Fatah. A dense and complex scene, where objective analyses blend with spiteful, emotional, mocking, and opportunistic readings, reaching outright hostility.

What is striking is that this fervor is not limited to the movement's members but extends to a wide spectrum: from supporters and grateful individuals to angry and upset ones, along with those who are closely attached, detached, sitting, standing, climbing, and prostrating. It even includes leftists, independents, religious individuals, atheists, and even passersby. Everyone speaks, and everyone expresses their opinion, often venturing beyond the limits of criticism into the realms of self-flagellation.

Even the websites of Hamas and its writers have been busy for weeks, day and night, with Fatah's eighth conference: demonizing, slandering, and inciting. Their engagement is so complete that there is almost a total absence of any serious discussion regarding their internal entitlements, foremost among them the elections of the political bureau and filling the gaps in their leadership structure. Here, the colloquial phrase acquires its sarcastic connotation: "She left her husband lying down and went to Abu Mahmoud."

What has been mentioned is not a fleeting impression, but a reality that can be clearly observed. The paradox that might shock some is that despite everything Fatah is exposed to, it appears more capable of accommodating this flood of criticism and self-flagellation and even treats it as part of its open political space.

Conversely, the question arises insistently: who followed a genuine discursive discussion regarding the elections of the political bureau of Hamas? Who has heard of a sincere space for accepting criticism within it? How many Hamas writers have provided an analytical reading of their leadership's chances, like Khalil al-Hayya against Musa Abu Marzouk, for example! Instead of being continuously occupied with the details of the chances of Shetaiya, al-Rajoub, al-Sheikh, al-Aloul, Helles, and so on?

Moreover, how many leftist or independent voices have dared to question the ambiguity surrounding the electoral procedures within Hamas, where the public is surprised by brief announcements: selecting so-and-so... and that’s it, without discussion or transparency? And who dares to touch on criticism of a Hamas matter, for the electronic flies are ready for takfir, treason, and slander.

Herein lies the fundamental difference in the "chemistry" of the national situation: between a movement treated as a public issue for all Palestinians, discussed and criticized openly, and another case that is closed off, managed within narrow circles, remaining outside the realm of public accountability and closer to internal disputes driven by Iranian, Turkish, and Qatari influences.

It is not merely an organizational comparison but a matter that pertains to the nature of the political space itself: is it an open space that accommodates differences and criticism, or a closed structure run by the logic of monopoly and guardianship?