By Mohamed El Mokhtar

Palestine does not resist to exist. It resists to prevent the erasure of truth. Gaza stands. Because if it falls, everything falls with it.

Since the beginning of Israel’s offensive on Gaza, most of the outrage has focused on the West: on the United States, supplier of weapons and diplomatic cover; on Europe, trapped in its historical ambiguities and moral inertia; on the tech giants, mobilized to filter pain and manage the flow of images.

These criticisms are valid. But they miss the essential point: the massacre could have been stopped. And those who could have stopped it carefully built the architecture of Arab complicity.

An architecture discreet, but functional, organized, and rational. Logistical, diplomatic, economic. A cold machine of political neutralization, cloaked in silence, hypocrisy, and well-polished protocol.

Meanwhile, Donald Trump — the man who called Palestinians parasites, who vowed to turn Gaza into hell, who imagined deporting a million souls to a collapsed Libya in exchange for frozen assets — is received with fanfare in Arab capitals. The man who denies the very humanity of the victims is welcomed as a strategist, praised as a partner for peace.

In Riyadh, before a cheering crowd, he expresses his wish that Saudi Arabia formalize relations with Tel Aviv. Not a word about Gaza. The insult becomes structural. Indignity becomes policy.

The empire marches forward; the vassals kneel. He signs contracts worth hundreds of billions in arms, energy, and AI. He receives a private jet from Qatar. He desecrates a mosque in the Emirates, closed to the faithful for his visit. In Riyadh, he is crowned like an emperor. And rather than leverage this power to defend their own people, Arab leaders choose deepened submission, voluntary impoverishment, and the abandonment of Gaza. History will not forget: while Gaza collapses, the architect of its disappearance is honored in palaces.

Egypt has sealed Rafah. No humanitarian corridor. No sovereign gesture. President Sisi suggests relocating Gazans to the Negev and echoes Israeli language about a “demilitarized” Palestinian state. He does not mediate. He obeys. He is an alibi, a cog. Listening to him speak beside Chancellor Olaf Scholz, I felt something beyond shame or anger. It was not a moral reaction, but an internal collapse — a nameless sense of abasement. A moment when language itself breaks down.

Saudi Arabia, with unmatched power, practices aligned neutrality. No rupture. No conditions. The Crown Prince reportedly told Blinken that Palestine no longer concerns him. His media, led by Al Arabiya, participate in the dehumanization. Abu Dhabi follows suit, deploying Sky News Arabia and other polished platforms in the same disinformation effort.

The UAE has taken an even more brutal line. They do not stabilize crises; they extinguish them, at the expense of the democratic spark. They supported every counter-revolution in the Arab world.

They fragmented Yemen, sabotaged Libya’s transition, and fueled the war in Sudan. Their enemy is not ideology; it is any form of civic initiative or social autonomy. They invest in Israeli settlements, fund military hospitals, host the money of autocrats, and launder the proceeds of disaster. Their so-called neutrality is a mask. Their betrayal is methodical.

They even fund espionage caravans disguised as mobile hospitals, under the pretext of humanitarian aid. They propose investing in underground sanitation systems in Gaza, when sewage is the least concern of a population whose city lies in ruins. These are pretexts for infiltration operations serving Israeli intelligence. The cynicism is total: a convergence of technology, capital, and duplicity in the service of faceless domination.

To this strategy, they add religious varnish. Clerics once respected, now sanctify this policy, offering it spiritual legitimacy. What was once called ethics is now a justification. Morality is no longer debated; it is codified. Evil becomes presentable, structured, and exportable. This is the technocratic simulacrum of moral order.

Morocco falls in line. It welcomes Israeli warships, trains soldiers jointly, and helps produce drones. Its agricultural companies — like those of the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Jordan — continue to supply the Israeli market throughout the bombings. Resupply occurs in broad daylight, officially and unapologetically.

Jordan opens its borders. Saudi Arabia provides highways. The Emirates open their ports. The supply lines to Israel operate in the midst of an offensive, indirect, but decisive. This is not neutrality. This is criminal complicity in the logistics of a war of extermination.

Mahmoud Abbas, for his part, embodies an authority without power or legitimacy. He maintains security coordination while hospitals burn. He has no mandate, no people, no voice.

Edward Said, in a measured and exacting essay, recounted a pivotal moment: watching the signing of the Oslo Accords in New York, seated beside Mahmoud Darwish. Hearing Arafat, he thought he was listening to Rabin. He wrote that the shame was so deep he wished the earth would swallow him. He understood then: a threshold had been crossed.

Today, that threshold has become the norm. Gaza is no longer a diplomatic issue. It is a fault line: between memory and amnesia, morality and management, sovereignty and servitude.

The official Arab order has not faltered. It has abdicated. It no longer represents. It disables, surveils, and disciplines. It no longer thinks. It replicates.

This is not a crisis. It is a strategy. This is not a defeat. It is a doctrine: do not disturb the order. Preserve the flows. Silence the pain.

Palestine does not resist to exist. It resists to prevent the erasure of truth.

Gaza stands. Because if it falls, everything falls with it.

And those who abandon it today will answer. Not before a court, but before history.

I hope that those responsible will answer in their lifetimes. Not before cameras or complicit parliaments, but before the peoples they betrayed. This spectacle is not merely painful: it corrodes thought, distorts perception, destroys vigilance. I no longer watch the news — not out of fatigue, but out of refusal. This is not a conflict. It is an open-air system of injustice.

Sometimes, I am ashamed to argue with my Western friends. What weighs on me most is not their cynicism — but our own collapse. The Arab betrayal has become so obscene it suffocates all speech. It silences reason. It annihilates voice. This is the summit of disgrace. And before that disgrace, I do not protest. I apologize.

This is no longer blindness or compromise. It is participation in a crime. And this participation is not just political or military. It is cultural, media-driven, and religious. It penetrates a system stripped of all moral pretense. Evil today is organized, conceptualized, ritualized. The official Arab order no longer merely betrays. It theorizes its betrayal. It gives it language, structure, and legitimacy. And it does so without flinching.

The views expressed in the article do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of The Palestine Chronicle.