Gaza Residents Split: Hamas Disarmament Hopes Clash With Israeli Withdrawal Fears

A Fragile Hope Amid the Rubble

In the war-scarred neighborhoods of Gaza City, a new and often whispered conversation is taking place. Palestinians who have endured more than a year of devastating conflict are beginning to articulate a hope that many would have considered unthinkable just months ago: that Hamas, the militant group that has governed the enclave since 2007, will disarm and cede power. Yet that hope is almost immediately shadowed by a deep-seated fear that Israel will not reciprocate by withdrawing its forces from the territory, leaving Gazans in a political vacuum with no army to protect them and no clear path to sovereignty.

"We are tired of rockets, tired of tunnels, tired of seeing our children die," said Umm Khaled, a mother of five from the Shujaiya neighborhood, now living in a UN shelter. "If Hamas put down its weapons tomorrow, we would welcome it. But what then? The Israelis have tanks at the border. They will not leave. They will find a reason to stay."

Her words echo a broader sentiment that is emerging from informal discussions in cafes, queues for bread, and cramped shelters. While no public opinion poll has been conducted amid the ongoing hostilities, interviews with more than a dozen residents and local analysts paint a picture of a population exhausted by war and disillusioned with armed factions — yet deeply skeptical that Israel's military withdrawal will ever match the disarmament they are being asked to accept.

The Disarmament Debate

The push for Hamas to disarm is not new, but it has gained urgency as the death toll in Gaza has climbed past 45,000, according to the Hamas-run health ministry, and as the territory's infrastructure lies in ruins. For many Gazans, the October 7, 2023 attack on Israel that sparked the current war — and the unrelenting Israeli response that followed — represent a catastrophic failure of armed resistance to achieve any tangible improvement in their lives.

"The war has proven that the strategy of armed struggle is bankrupt," said a former Palestinian Authority official who asked to remain anonymous. "Hamas cannot defeat Israel militarily. It can only provoke more destruction. Many people in Gaza now see the choice as stark: disarm and rebuild, or keep fighting and stay under rubble."

That view is reinforced by the sheer scale of devastation. Entire districts have been reduced to gray dust. Water and electricity are scarce. Hospitals operate with minimal supplies. The UN estimates that rebuilding Gaza will require $50 billion and a decade or more of uninterrupted access — a task impossible while Hamas retains a military apparatus that Israel regards as an existential threat.

For some residents, the idea of Hamas transitioning into a purely political or social movement is not just pragmatic but morally necessary. "We need a new leadership that prioritizes life, not death," said a young teacher in Khan Younis. "Hamas promised us victory. It gave us a graveyard."

Fear of an Israeli Forever-Presence

Yet the same residents who long for disarmament often express an equally powerful dread: that Israel, having dismantled much of Hamas's fighting force, will not end its military occupation of Gaza but instead formalize or prolong its control. Already, Israeli forces have maintained a buffer zone inside Gaza and conduct near-daily raids in the north. Satellite imagery and troop movements suggest a long-term presence in strategic corridors, including the Netzarim axis that splits the enclave and the Philadelphi route along the border with Egypt.

"Israel says it will not reoccupy Gaza, but its actions say otherwise," said Rami al-Masri, a political science professor at a West Bank university. "Every day that passes without a credible Israeli withdrawal plan reinforces the belief among Gazans that the occupation is permanent. And that makes the idea of disarming deeply risky."

Residents point to the West Bank as a warning. There, the Palestinian Authority maintains security coordination with Israel and has no significant armed forces, yet Israeli settlements continue to expand and the occupation remains firmly in place. "Look at the West Bank — they disarm us and call it peace, but we have no state and no freedom," said Abu Jalal, a shopkeeper in Deir al-Balah. "Why would we trust that here?"

The fear is not merely psychological. When Hamas ceded control of certain areas during temporary ceasefires, Israeli forces moved in and remained, arresting suspected militants and controlling movement. In the north, where Hamas is largely degraded, residents report that Israeli troops have established permanent outposts and impose a curfew at night. "They say they are fighting Hamas, but we see soldiers every day," said a farmer who lives near the Netzarim corridor. "There is no difference between this and an occupation."

The Political Vacuum and Security Dilemma

A central dilemma for any future arrangement is who will fill the security vacuum if Hamas disarms. The Palestinian Authority, which governs parts of the West Bank and was expelled from Gaza in 2007, has expressed willingness to return, but it lacks legitimacy among many Gazans and its security forces are seen by some as subcontractors of Israel. Meanwhile, no other local armed group has the capacity to enforce law and order.

"Disarmament without a credible alternative security arrangement is a recipe for chaos or Israeli re-conquest," said Omar Shaban, a Gaza-based analyst. "The international community must provide a clear roadmap: a unified Palestinian security umbrella, a peacekeeping force, or some other mechanism that guarantees both Israeli security and Palestinian self-rule. Otherwise, people will not support giving up the only means they have to defend themselves."

Negotiations currently brokered by Egypt, Qatar, and the United States have made little headway. Israel has consistently demanded the complete demilitarization of Gaza, a phrase it uses to mean the surrender of all heavy weapons and the dismantling of Hamas's military wing. Hamas, in turn, insists that it will only release the remaining hostages in exchange for a comprehensive ceasefire and a full Israeli withdrawal. Neither side appears willing to accept a sequenced plan that would address both demands simultaneously.

What's Next? A Long and Uncertain Path

The immediate future seems bleak. With no breakthrough in sight, residents continue to die and the territory remains sealed off from the outside world. The combination of hope for disarmament and fear of Israeli permanence has created a political dilemma that no single actor seems able to solve.

For many, the only consolation is the belief that the current leadership will not survive the wreckage. "Hamas has lost the trust of the people," said the former PA official. "But Israel has lost its credibility as an occupying power. We need new voices on all sides."

Some see glimmers of possibility in grassroots initiatives. Local committees have begun to organize in some neighborhoods, mediating disputes and coordinating deliveries of aid. These informal structures, unaffiliated with any faction, represent the seeds of a civil administration that could one day take root. But they are fragile and lack funding and international recognition.

If a deal is finally reached, the sequencing will be crucial. "The Palestinians will accept steps toward disarmament if they see a genuine Israeli withdrawal, not just a redeployment," said Shaban. "It must be a parallel process, with verifiable milestones. And it must end with Palestinian control over all crossings and a horizon toward statehood."

The alternative — endless conflict — is unthinkable but increasingly likely. As one resident put it, "We are not against peace. We are against being forced to surrender while the occupier remains. If Israel leaves, we will decide our own fate. If it stays, then all this talk about disarmament is just another way to subjugate us."

That sentiment encapsulates the tragic bind of Gaza: a people desperately wanting to put down their weapons, yet unable to trust the enemy who asks them to do so. The coming weeks and months will determine whether that distrust can be bridged, or whether the territory will slide into an even darker chapter of its history. For now, the words of Umm Khaled linger as both a prayer and a warning: "We want peace, but peace must have a shape. Right now, we only see the shape of tanks."