Saleh al-Jafarawi, the Doghmush clan, and the illusion of ceasefire
Saleh al-Jafarawi was abducted and executed by members of the Doghmush clan—an anti-Hamas faction within Gaza. He was not killed in battle, but in a context of internal militias acting under external influence.
This stark fact deserves to be front and center, because it exposes a quiet architecture of violence that functions even in moments when a ‘ceasefire’ supposedly holds. This is the occupation’s most insidious form, a war fought not through tanks or jets but through collaborators and chaos, ensuring that Gaza never truly rests. In this architecture of endless war, ceasefires are illusions, fragile pauses that conceal the unbroken machinery of control, where Israel’s hand remains unseen but ever present, orchestrating violence even in silence.
Netanyahu’s June 2025 admission confirms what many analysts have long suspected: Israel has been “activating” clans that oppose Hamas, arming or supporting them at least tacitly, leveraging internal divisions in Gaza. In multiple statements, he claimed that, acting “on the advice of security officials,” the Israeli government has enabled certain Palestinian clans to operate against Hamas. “What’s wrong with that? It’s only good. It saves the lives of IDF soldiers,” Netanyahu declared.
One of the prominent clans so enabled is the Abu Shabab clan, based in Rafah, which Israel admits to having activated. The “Popular Forces,” linked to them, have been accused by Palestinians and aid workers of criminal behavior, including looting incoming humanitarian aid convoys. These clans are local players with complicated histories: some held influence before Hamas’s takeover of Gaza in 2007; some engaged in smuggling or informal power networks; some have been marginalized under Hamas rule. What Netanyahu has done is to take these existing internal cleavages and weaponize them—using clan rivalries as a tool of proxy warfare.
Against this background, the abduction and killing of Saleh al-Jafarawi by Doghmush clan members is more than an individual tragedy. It’s a case study: how collaborators or clan-militias are used to silence voices loyal to the resistance, to undermine local governance, and to sow fear. Al-Jafarawi was known for his coverage of destruction, displacement, and civilian suffering—aligning him clearly with Hamas’s movement of resistance. That he was taken and killed by a clan opposed to Hamas points to targeted violence, not random crime. It shows how Israel’s support for these clans is more than just logistics or rhetoric; it makes them dangerous internal agents.
The idea of a ceasefire is deeply compromised in this model. Even when shelling or open military operations between Israel and Hamas pause, the war continues in shadow. Militia violence, kidnappings, assassinations: these are not paused by ceasefire agreements. The killing of al-Jafarawi during a period when hostilities at the border were reduced shows that ceasefire does not guarantee safety. It merely shifts some forms of warfare from open battlefields to intra-Palestinian rivalries and clandestine operations. This makes peace an illusion for many civilians, who cannot distinguish between external assaults and internal betrayals.
This is not a failure of policy but its intended outcome. Israel has long understood that total military victory in Gaza is unattainable; they have seen countless defeats. What is attainable is permanent incoherence. The tactic amounts to a form of entropic warfare: the deliberate creation of chaos to prevent reorganization. Rather than occupying territory directly, Israel governs through collapse. The breakdown of social cohesion performs the same function as a garrison. When Palestinians no longer trust their own institutions or each other, Israel’s strategic goals are met without the need for visible control. The killing of Saleh Al-Jaafrawi illustrates this invisible war.
Moreover, this use of clan proxies weakens governance in Gaza in fundamental ways. Hamas enjoys a degree of popular legitimacy: it won the 2006 elections, and many Gazans still see it as a symbol of resistance against occupation and as the de facto government providing social services amid blockade and war. When opposing clans act—and are backed or enabled by Israel—they do not just challenge Hamas militarily; they undermine its ability to govern. They create parallel sources of power, insecurity, and unpredictability. For citizens that means nobody is fully safe, nobody is fully accountable, and public institutions become weaker because they must not only fend off external pressure but internal sabotage.
This strategy reflects patterns seen elsewhere: in Lebanon, for example, Israel has historically supported militias and local factions hostile to dominant groups such as Hezbollah in order to fragment power, reduce unified resistance, and create zones of distrust. These tactics often lead to long-term instability, cycles of violence, social fragmentation, and a human cost that lingers long after any overt war is over.
What emerges is a pattern: Israel’s strategy is not limited to confronting Hamas militarily; it includes enabling internal enemies of Hamas to degrade support for it, destabilize its governance, terrorize its supporters, and silence its voices. Al-Jafarawi’s killing becomes emblematic. He was not killed at the border, not during an Israeli airstrike, but through internal betrayal—abducted and executed by anti-Hamas actors. This highlights a grim truth: even with ceasefires, peace is not restored unless the structures that enable proxy violence and mobilize collaborators are dismantled.
This form of warfare carries the advantage of plausible deniability. When Palestinians fight among themselves, Israel can posture as a bystander, lamenting “internal chaos” while benefiting strategically from it. The spectacle of disorder reinforces the narrative that Palestinians are incapable of self-rule, thereby justifying continued external control.
The clans that turn against their own people under the lure of Israeli support are not merely opportunistic criminals; they are instruments of a much darker political project. By accepting money, arms, or protection from the occupation, they become extensions of a state built on apartheid and domination. Their betrayal corrodes the moral fabric of Palestinian society from within, achieving what bombardments and blockades alone cannot: the dismantling of solidarity, the erosion of trust, and the quiet assassination of resistance.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.