Most of the world’s nations now recognise a Palestinian state. In May 2024, the ranks of those nations were swelled by Spain, Ireland, and Norway. Under Emmanuel Macron and Keir Starmer, respectively, the French and British governments have now signalled their commitment to joining them in September. As conditions deteriorate in Gaza, one British government minister has even said that the UK should recognise the state of Palestine “while there is a state of Palestine left to recognise.”

Palestine is usually said to comprise Gaza and parts of the West Bank, with its capital in East Jerusalem. But in the real world, the West Bank enclave is ruled by Fatah, what remains of the Gaza Strip is still nominally ruled by Hamas, and East Jerusalem is not the capital of anything. With the two mutually hostile Palestinian parties locked in a frozen conflict, there is no prospect that either will hand over control to the other. And neither Hamas nor Fatah can be considered democratically legitimate because neither has held elections in decades.

So, what does it mean to recognise a physically discontinuous, politically divided polity as a single state? And why have no conditions for recognition been placed upon Hamas—a detail that has led some British commentators to see the promise of recognition as a reward for the pogrom of 7 October 2023?

I. History

The international expectation is that a Palestinian state will be established within borders “based upon” the 1949 armistice lines that existed on 4 June 1967, the day before the Six Day War. But no Palestinian state existed before that war. Indeed, no Palestinian state existed even before Israel’s 1948 declaration of independence. 

Until 1918, “Palestine” was an impoverished backwater of the Ottoman Empire, ruled from Constantinople hundreds of miles away. And like most parts of the Ottoman Empire, it was inhabited by multiple ethnic groups. Following the breakup of the Ottoman Empire—which had picked the wrong side in the First World War—the territory was temporarily administered by the British under the name of “Mandatory Palestine.”

Throughout this period of British administration, there was substantial immigration from elsewhere in the Middle East. Many of the new arrivals were Jews, a persecuted minority in the Arab world, which had learnt (like many persecuted peoples of the day) to dream of national self-determination. Some Arabs wanted to make peace with the Jews, but the dominant force in Arab politics was Amin al-Husseini, the British-appointed Mufti of Jerusalem and a Jew-hating Nazi collaborator.

In 1937, after a failed but extremely bloody revolt, al-Husseini fled Mandatory Palestine, and a British Royal Commission led by Robert Peel recommended that the Mandate be dissolved and the territory divided to separate its Arab and Jewish populations. Ten years later, in 1947, the United Nations proposed a similar plan. On both occasions, the partition proposals were accepted by Jewish leaders and rejected by Arab leaders. In 1937, not much happened and then the Second World War began. But in 1947, a nasty civil war erupted before Arab armies from Lebanon, Egypt, Jordan, and Syria invaded (with Iraqi involvement) with the explicit intention of extinguishing the Jewish state that had just declared its independence. By the time the war ended, the Arab armies had been routed and the new state of Israel was in control of most of former Mandatory Palestine.

Egypt and Transjordan had seized the rest. The Gaza Strip was occupied by Egypt in 1948, while East Jerusalem and the West Bank were occupied by Transjordan in 1949, and formally annexed the following year. Egypt never did offer citizenship to the inhabitants of Gaza (which is why heavily built-up neighbourhoods there are incongruously referred to as “refugee camps”). Jordan, meanwhile, gave the Palestinian residents it acquired only temporary citizenship, which it revoked in 1988. This ensured that the Arab denizens of these two territories, and their children and grandchildren, would remain refugees in perpetuity—prisoners of their fantasy status as future citizens of a phantom Palestinian state.

In 1964, the Arab League midwifed the creation of the Palestinian Liberation Organisation (PLO), a militia dedicated to the creation of a single Arab state across the entirety of former Mandatory Palestine. From bases in Jordan, Egypt, Lebanon, and Syria, the PLO began a campaign of attacks against Israeli civilian targets. Then, in 1967, Egyptian president Gamal Abdel closed the Straits of Tiran to Israeli shipping, expelled the UN peacekeepers from the Sinai peninsular, and began massing troops on the Israeli border. 

Israel responded with a devastating series of pre-emptive strikes, and Jordan was dragged into the resulting war thanks to the mutual defence pact it had recently signed with Egypt. Syria swiftly followed, but within six days, Israel had conquered the West Bank from Jordan, the Golan Heights from Syria, and the the Gaza Strip and the Sinai from Egypt. These developments only intensified PLO terrorism, with the lethal ambush of a school bus in 1970 and the torture and massacre of Israeli Olympic athletes at the Munich Olympics in 1972. In 1973, Egypt and Syria launched another war, which ultimately led to the return of the Sinai and a peace treaty between Egypt and Israel in 1979.

The PLO continued to engage in air piracy and terror attacks on Israeli citizens until 1993, when it formally renounced violence and recognised Israel. With the Oslo Accords of 1994, the PLO was reconstituted as the Palestinian Authority, and it became the closest thing to a Palestinian national government that had ever existed.

In 2005, Israel unilaterally withdrew from Gaza, leaving the enclave entirely under Palestinian control. The following year, Gaza’s residents voted for Hamas, the Palestinian branch of the Muslim Brotherhood. A Palestinian civil war then began between Hamas and Fatah—until then, the dominant party in the Palestinian Authority—which ended in 2007, when Fatah was driven out of Gaza and Hamas assumed dictatorial control of the Strip. Since that time, Hamas—which remains constitutionally committed to Israel’s total destruction—has fought five wars with its Jewish neighbour, each of which has taken a terrible toll on the Gazan civilians it uses as human shields.

Hamas lost the most recent of those wars some time ago, although it sees no reason to stop fighting. With its territory overrun, a normal government would have negotiated terms of surrender. But Hamas is not a normal government: most of its most senior leaders are in another country, and its fighters are hiding out in the extensive network of tunnels on which it has squandered untold billions in foreign cash. So instead, it stays put, knowing that Israeli attempts to dislodge it will inevitably cause civilian suffering that it can exploit in propaganda for a Western audience.

On the face of it, that seems to be working. On 29 July, the British government announced that it would recognise Palestinian statehood in September “unless the Israeli government takes substantive steps to end the appalling situation in Gaza, reaches a ceasefire, makes clear there will be no annexation in the West Bank, and commits to a long-term peace process that delivers a two-state solution.” The Palestinian people, Prime Minister Keir Starmer added, “have endured terrible suffering. Now, in Gaza because of a catastrophic failure of aid, we see starving babies, children too weak to stand: images that will stay with us for a lifetime. The suffering must end.” 

Against Palestinian Statehood

Nurturing an alternative power structure in this kind of politically stunted society will be the work of generations. It can’t be summoned into existence by Western leaders seeking to appease domestic constituencies.

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II. Law

The legality of unilaterally recognising Palestine as a state has since been examined by British jurist Malcolm Shaw KC in a legal opinion commissioned by British peer Lord Mendelsohn and published on 3 August. Until now, Shaw points out, official UK policy has held that:

The normal criteria which the government apply for recognition as a state are that it should have, and seem likely to continue to have, a clearly defined territory with a population, a government who are able of themselves to exercise effective control of that territory, and independence in their external relations.

In this respect, the UK has (in common with most other countries) followed principles laid down in the 1933 Montevideo Convention on Rights and Duties of States, which identifies the qualifications for statehood as:

• A permanent population.
• A defined territory.
• A government.
• The capacity to enter into relations with other states. 

As Shaw observes, Palestine currently satisfies none of these criteria but the first, because “its territorial extent is undetermined,” “there is no effective single government authority over the whole of the territory,” and “the capacity of the [Palestinian Authority] to conduct formal legal relations with other entities, including States, is hampered by the terms of the Oslo Accords, which [are] still binding upon the parties.” He adds:

It is internationally agreed that the only viable solution to the Israel Palestinian problem is that of two States living in peace and security. The way to achieve this aim, however difficult it may be, is by way of negotiations between the parties, no doubt with the assistance of others. Unilateral recognition of Palestine now confuses and distorts this as such recognition should be an outcome of such negotiations and not awarded at the outset.

To call recognition of Palestine premature would be an understatement. But it is unlikely that any world leader is so deluded as to see it as anything other than a gesture. As such, it may help to mollify voters at home who understand nothing of what’s happening in the Middle East. It may also provide a symbolic reward to state actors in the region wanting to show that they have done their bit for Palestine. “Recognition,” Shaw correctly remarks, “is a political act.”

III. Politics

Recognition of Palestinian statehood therefore amounts to recognition, not of an actual state, but of an aspiration to statehood that would be impossible to realise at present, even with Israel’s full co-operation. And Israel’s co-operation will not be forthcoming, because one part of what would become a Palestinian state is still at war with Israel, and continues to hold about twenty living Israeli hostages, whose torment it proudly displays to the world.

As a leader in the London Times noted, Starmer seems to be stumbling into a “Hamas-constructed elephant trap” and “rewarding evil”:

The prime minister’s new readiness to use recognition of Palestine as a sovereign state as leverage against Israel has emboldened a ruthless terrorist organisation banned in Britain. Sir Keir has set conditions on Israel if it is to stave off British recognition of a Palestinian state at the United Nations next month. Binyamin Netanyahu, Israel’s hardline prime minister, must improve food distribution in Gaza, agree a ceasefire and commit to a two-state solution. Initially, Hamas was not obliged to do anything to secure recognition. Its drastically thinned leadership can hardly conceal their glee.

My assumption is that Starmer and Macron probably understand these things. They’re not fools. So, what are they doing by committing to something so fundamentally absurd?

There’s a cynical answer to that question in the electoral circumstances faced by Wes Streeting, the UK government minister who believes—or says he believes—that there exists “a state of Palestine to recognise.” At the July 2024 general election, he defeated independent candidate Leanne Mohamad, who ran what amounted to a single-issue campaign on the question of Palestine, by a margin of just 528 votes.

There are now four MPs in the UK parliament who ran on the same single-issue ticket, and there are many more campaigners who came within a hair’s breadth of joining them. Jess Phillips, who defeated her own pro-Gaza challenger by just 693 votes, has spoken of a “breakdown of democracy” caused by her opponent’s campaign of “aggression and violence.” “They were haranguing voters,” she told an interviewer. “There were fireworks thrown, tyres slashed, and constituents threatened at polling stations,” she went on. (When discussing these events, Phillips is always careful to describe her challenger’s aggressive supporters only as “male.”)

But the timing of the UK’s announcement suggests there is more to the decision than fear of political retribution at the ballot box. The UK statement was issued just hours before the release of the New York Declaration, which was agreed at the UN High-Level International Conference on the Two-State Solution, hosted by France and Saudi Arabia with the participation of a number of other states, including the UK.

Along with the usual condemnations of Israel that one would expect from a UN conference, this document “condemn[s] the attacks committed by Hamas against civilians on the 7th of October,” declares that “Hamas must free all hostages” and demands that, “In the context of ending the war in Gaza, Hamas must end its rule in Gaza and hand over its weapons to the Palestinian Authority, with international engagement and support, in line with the objective of a sovereign and independent Palestinian State.”

It is not especially notable that this document was approved by the governments of Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Jordan, all of which hate Hamas nearly as much as the Israelis do, and all of which have banned Hamas’s parent organisation, the Muslim Brotherhood, from operating within their borders. However, it is highly notable that this document was approved by the governments of Turkey and Qatar, since both the Turkish and the Qatari regimes are strong supporters of the Muslim Brotherhood. To sign off on a declaration is to stake one’s reputation on what is declared. And Qatar—alone among the declaration’s signatories—has the means to ensure that Hamas becomes history.

In concert with Iran, Qatar has “effectively bankrolled Hamas for years.” Without foreign money, Hamas will struggle to pay its foot-soldiers. And without pay, Hamas’s foot-soldiers are just street thugs whose loyalty will in many cases revert to other structures, such as the clan. Qatar may have other leverage as well: it hosted the Hamas Politburo from 2012 until last year, when the arrangement officially ceased. It is officially unknown where the politburo’s members are now, but it is certainly possible that they and many of their relatives are still in Qatar. Even if they are not, they are unlikely to have been able to transfer all of their assets abroad.

Although this point has escaped many commentators, the most likely reason why no conditions have been placed on Hamas in the plan to recognise Palestine is that recognition will benefit not Hamas, but rather its enemies in Fatah. The UK in particular had already made quite clear that it recognises the Palestinian Authority as “the only legitimate governing entity in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including in Gaza.” As to how Fatah will overcome Hamas’s resistance—given that it was violently ejected from the Strip in 2007—I can only assume that the Qataris are going into this with their eyes open, as a significant level of violence is certainly to be expected.

Of course, Palestinian statehood will still only be theoretical. Even if Hamas were to vanish overnight, it would take time for the PA to reassert its authority over Gaza and to unify the Strip administratively with its territories in the West Bank. And then there’s the small matter of resolving the disputed status of East Jerusalem and the West Bank.

The Israelis, meanwhile, are acutely aware that disengagement from Gaza ultimately led to the pogrom of 7 October, which is likely to translate into reluctance to withdraw from the West Bank. Hamas remnants will almost certainly remain to cause problems, although their main targets will be other Palestinians at first. But these are the sorts of difficulties that Western politicians might feel able to defer in the service of a symbolic gesture that may bring key allies on board.

Besides the opportunity to present itself as having played a key role in conjuring up a recognised (if still somewhat chimerical) Palestinian state, what might have led Qatar to turn its back on Hamas? It would be implausible to attribute any change of heart to horror over the latter’s misdeeds. But questions may well have been asked about how Qatari interests are served by continuing to finance mujahideen so fearless and bold that their only real tactic in the event of invasion is to hide beneath Palestinian civilians.

There is, after all, little respect to be gained from continuing to indulge in such expensive patronage, now that the heavyweight champion of post-Holocaust Jew-killing has turned out to be a seven-stone weakling with a glass jaw, skulking beneath the streets of Gaza while its sister militia in Lebanon and its other patron in Tehran have their teeth kicked in by the IDF. Palestinian suffering is a wonderfully effective propaganda weapon in the West, but if that was all the Qataris wanted, they could have produced it far more cheaply.

I suspect that this is why Hamas has released the disgusting video of an emaciated Israeli hostage named Evyatar David—one of the civilians seized at the Nova music festival on 7 October—being forced to dig his own grave. “Don’t give up on us,” the subtext cries to his captors’ fellow Islamists. “We are still murdering and humiliating Jews. Keep financing us, and we’ll do more of this.” It is almost certainly why Hamas officials have presented Western promises to recognise Palestine as “one of the fruits of October 7”: infuriating though this must be for the Israelis, and embarrassing though it undoubtedly is for the politicians making those promises, the real audience for such statements is in Doha. “You see?” the subtext says. “Invading Israel and publicly slaughtering all those civilians wasn’t a tactical error after all.”

Perhaps such arguments will prove persuasive—in which case, things could still go badly wrong. If Qatar changes its mind again and decides to give Hamas another chance, the Islamists’ reign of terror in Gaza could continue for many years to come. One hopes that, under such circumstances, Western leaders would find a reason to retract their gesture of recognising statehood. But not as much as one hopes to see Hamas wither and fragment in a Middle East that no longer wishes to indulge its fetish for martyrdom.

Correction: An earlier version of this article incorrectly described Palestine as a “province” of the Ottoman Empire. Quillette regrets the error.