Hamas at War with Itself

Internal divisions between Iranian-backed hardliners and Qatari-aligned pragmatists are tearing the terrorist organization apart.

Last week, Qatari Prime Minister Sheikh Mohammed bin Abdulrahman al-Thani, a longtime Hamas backer, stated during an interview at the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR) in New York City that the “Palestinian party” violated Trump’s peace plan when an armed group attacked Israeli Defense Force (IDF) soldiers in Rafah’s Jenina neighborhood on Tuesday. The incident resulted in the death of Master Sgt. Yona Efraim Feldbaum, and the IDF responded with airstrikes across the Gaza Strip that killed 104 people, including dozens of women and children.

Asked about Hamas’s potential disarmament as part of Trump’s plan, Sheikh Mohammed said, “It will be a complicated process… to go through the disarmament and the decommissioning, but it’s part of the agreement.”

Such a statement, especially from Qatar’s prime minister—whose country has long hosted Hamas’s leadership—is rare and signals growing frustration with Hamas’s actions.

A day later, Hamas’s official Telegram channel issued a warning about “fake accounts” on X spreading misinformation. Among the listed accounts were @mansourgaza, @Cosmos_politic, @YounisBahari, and @SadeqGaza. For the past two years, these accounts have consistently supported Hamas’s actions from the atrocities of October 7 to the public executions of Gazans after the ceasefire and glorified its leaders. Shortly after the warning, these same accounts accused figures like Khaled Mishaal (a former Hamas chairman) and Izzat al-Rashq (a Qatar-based founding member of Hamas’s Political Bureau) of being behind the statement.

Sheikh Mohammed’s remarks exposed the real crisis. Qatar, Hamas’s chief patron, now publicly acknowledges that the group violated the peace plan and that disarmament is “part of the agreement.” When your biggest backer admits you broke your own ceasefire, the question becomes: which Hamas signed the agreement, and which Hamas violated it?

Can an organization enforce disarmament when its own military units sabotage peace deals? Can political leaders in Qatar deliver on commitments when militants in Gaza answer to Tehran? When Hamas denounces the same propaganda accounts that have long championed it, are we dealing with one organization—or two?

The rift within Hamas is not new. The group has never been homogeneous, drawing from different ideological sources and political patrons. One faction aligns with Iran and embraces the export of the Islamic Revolution to Palestine; the other is rooted in the Muslim Brotherhood network and sustained by Qatari support.

Leaders in the military wing such as Yahya Sinwar, Mohammed Sinwar, and Mohammed Deif lean toward Tehran. They are hardliners, opposed to compromise or disarmament. Meanwhile, figures like Khaled Mishaal, Izzat al-Rashq, and Gaza’s current military leader, Izz al-Din al-Haddad, align more closely with the Muslim Brotherhood and Qatar, showing some willingness to negotiate.

The mere fact that Hamas signed Trump’s peace plan reveals the depth of its internal divisions. The Iranian-aligned faction would never have agreed to any framework that includes eventual disarmament—their entire identity, funding, and legitimacy rest on perpetual armed resistance. For them, signing meant organizational suicide.

Yet the plan was signed, suggesting that the Qatar-aligned faction likely led by Mishaal and al-Rashq in Qatar and al-Haddad in Gaza temporarily overrode internal opposition. The Rafah attack was likely a deliberate act of sabotage by the Iranian faction to derail what they saw as capitulation disguised as diplomacy. When Israel’s retaliatory airstrikes killed more than 100 Palestinians, the hardliners achieved their goal, discrediting the faction that endorsed the peace plan.

The denunciation of formerly loyal social media accounts is part of Hamas’s effort to control its narrative. For years, these accounts acted as its digital vanguard, celebrating every rocket launch and Israeli casualty. Now, suddenly, they are “fake”?

If we apply Occam’s Razor, the simplest explanation fits: these accounts represent the Iranian faction’s narrative—one that glorifies endless jihad over political pragmatism. By labeling them illegitimate, the Qatar-aligned leadership is attempting a digital purge, stifling voices that make disarmament impossible to sell to Hamas’s base. The swift counterattack, accusing Mishaal and al-Rashq, only confirms that this is an internal battle playing out in public view.

Sheikh Mohammed’s criticism of the CFR amounts to a warning. Qatar has poured billions into Hamas, providing not only money but also international legitimacy through diplomatic channels and media platforms like Al Jazeera. But as the Trump administration demands tangible results and regional powers pivot toward normalization with Israel, Hamas has become a liability that threatens Qatar’s interests.

By publicly acknowledging Hamas’s ceasefire violations and calling disarmament “part of the agreement,” Qatar is essentially telling Hamas: evolve or lose our support. For the Mishaal faction, this is existential. Without Qatari funding, hospitality, and diplomatic cover, they have little to counter the Iranian faction’s arsenal and militant credibility.

Iran is watching closely. Every Hamas fighter who refuses disarmament, every rogue attack, reinforces Tehran’s message that “resistance” cannot be negotiated away. Last Tuesday’s attack served that purpose perfectly—it showed that, regardless of political agreements, Hamas’s military capabilities remain operational and loyal to Iran’s agenda.

No one embodies Hamas’s contradictions more than Izz al-Din al-Haddad, Gaza’s military commander. Though ideologically aligned with the Muslim Brotherhood and Qatar, he commands fighters increasingly influenced by Iran—armed, trained, and indoctrinated in its image.

How can he enforce disarmament his own troops reject? How can he lead forces whose loyalty to him is conditional on continuing the fight? The answer is, he can’t. Hence the chaos: political leaders make promises they can’t keep, military units act independently, and Gaza burns as Hamas battles itself.

The administration must confront the fact that there is no unified Hamas to negotiate with—every agreement risks being sabotaged by the faction that feels betrayed. The pragmatists cannot deliver disarmament without triggering internal conflict; the hardliners will never accept it.

Hamas’s tragedy is that it has become a prisoner of its own mythology. The movement that vowed never to compromise or surrender now finds itself trapped: any pragmatic move is seen as betrayal, while continued resistance ensures destruction.

The disputes over social media, the Rafah attack, and Qatari criticism are symptoms of a movement collapsing under the weight of its contradictions. The Iranian faction insists that survival without resistance is meaningless; the Qatari faction argues that survival requires adaptation. Both are right within their own logic, and both are destroying what’s left of Gaza in the process.

For ordinary Gazans, this internal war brings only prolonged suffering. Whether Hamas disarms, fractures, or clings to paralysis, Palestinians remain trapped under a leadership that can neither govern nor fight effectively.

The real question isn’t whether Hamas will disarm, but whether it will survive long enough for that question to matter. And perhaps, for Gaza’s future, the best outcome would be for Hamas’s internal contradictions to finally consume it, creating space for new leadership that prioritizes feeding children over maintaining revolutionary purity.

Until then, Gaza will continue to be held hostage by an organization too divided to lead, too proud to surrender, and too fractured to end the suffering of those it claims to represent.

Middle East Uncovered is powered by Ideas Beyond Borders. The views expressed in Middle East Uncovered are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of Ideas Beyond Borders.