Gaza Breaks the Equation of Subjugation: Resistance Disrupts the Occupier’s Programming of Palestinian Reality

italiatelegraph

Amira Fouad Eid Alnahhal

Since the onset of the full-scale assault on Gaza in October 2023, Israel has intensified its attempts to implement what can be described as the “occupation’s programming” of Palestinian reality—a systematic process aimed at reshaping Palestinian society, demographics, and psychological structure to serve its control and fragmentation agendas.

Yet, despite the scale of violence and the multiplicity of repressive tools employed, the Palestinian people—through armed resistance and popular steadfastness—have managed to disrupt and destabilize this programming.

In this article, the author analyzes the most prominent of these Zionist schemes and explores how Gaza broke the equation of subjugation by confronting the tools of programming—on the ground, in the collective consciousness, and within the political narrative.

At the core of the Zionist colonial project in Gaza lies a strategy that goes beyond direct military operations. It delves into what can be termed the “occupation’s programming” of Palestinian reality. This programming is not a temporary tactic, but a long-term approach aimed at reshaping Palestinian society psychologically, behaviorally, and geographically to subdue it and reproduce it in a form that serves the occupier’s political and security infrastructure.

The occupation’s programming is based on the assumption that Palestinians can be subjugated by tightly managing the life conditions and mental environment in which they live—reconfiguring their collective behavior and social-political awareness. It is a bid to domesticate the popular base and transform it from a resisting entity into a monitored one, susceptible to fragmentation, division, and containment.

To achieve this, Israel relied on a set of overlapping and complementary tools. Foremost among them was forced displacement, clearly manifested in its attempts to empty northern Gaza of its inhabitants and turn it into a buffer or depopulated zone, as part of a broader plan to redraw the demographic map of the Strip. Starvation was another central pressure tactic, systematically applied through siege and supply cuts to bend the society into submission or incite it against the resistance.

In parallel, Israel sought to manufacture internal chaos by supporting criminal gangs or inciting tribal elements against the resistance infrastructure, hoping to create a collapsed security and social environment that would be easier to infiltrate and control. It also used local and international media tools to magnify certain scenes and obscure others, in an attempt to construct a false awareness among Palestinians and the world—one that justifies its operations and vilifies the resistance.

Among the most dangerous tools of this programming was what Israel termed “safe zones” or “humanitarian bubbles”—a concept based on gathering civilians into tightly controlled areas resembling large prisons, under the pretext of protecting them. In reality, it sought to render them politically and socially inert.

Using these tools in concert, Israel attempted to program the Palestinian: to think under pressure, to act within predefined boundaries, and to live in a state of perpetual threat—depriving him of breath or vision for the future. What it failed to anticipate, however, was that the Palestinian in Gaza—through collective awareness and defiant resistance—would manage to disable this programming and dismantle its mechanisms one by one.

One of the most notable of these projects was the floating pier plan, unveiled in April 2024, purportedly to deliver maritime aid to Gaza via a temporary port supervised by U.S. and Israeli forces. Despite its humanitarian veneer, the plan’s true intentions were quickly exposed. The resistance and Palestinian society saw it as a deceptive attempt to bypass Palestinian sovereignty and impose a model of “field trusteeship” over the Strip. With escalating security threats and attacks targeting construction operations, the plan faltered and ultimately failed to meet its objectives.

Earlier, in October 2023, Israel launched the northern displacement plan, aiming to completely evacuate northern Gaza using heavy bombardment, mass warnings, and scenarios of terror. What it did not expect, however, was that thousands of families would refuse to leave—or would later return, defying the war conditions and lack of services. This was a pivotal moment: the notion that geography could be easily redrawn through military pressure alone was shattered.

Then came the Generals’ Plan in September 2024, proposed by General Giora Eiland, which offered a more explicit vision: to transform northern Gaza into a closed, depopulated area as part of a comprehensive displacement project. Despite massive pressure and relentless military machinery, the plan failed due to the resilience of the resistance and mounting international public opinion, which began to grasp the scale of the systematic crime.

What reveals the depth of the Israeli project in Gaza is that it did not stop at reshaping land and population through displacement or isolation. It also sought to penetrate the internal structure of Palestinian society. For that, it resorted to subtler and more devious tools—what might be called “internal fragmentation projects.” In this context, the tribal plan emerged—a transparent attempt to recycle colonial strategies that historically relied on fomenting tribal divisions to weaken national movements. Through direct and indirect channels, Israel tried to promote the role of certain tribes in local governance or in forming quasi-security “civil” bodies to oppose the resistance. The bet was to dismantle unified public decision-making and replace resistance representation with tribal regionalism that could be contained or negotiated with. Yet, the plan collapsed quickly, as most tribes refused to be used against the national cause, viewing the initiative as a betrayal and a stab in the back.

Parallel to this, Israel launched the gangs plan, which involved attempts to support small, undisciplined armed groups that would commit acts of violence under various pretexts, to create security chaos that would undermine the authority of the resistance and disrupt daily life. The objective was to ignite internal conflict—or at least erode trust between the people and the resistance. But the community’s awareness and timely intervention by the resistance thwarted the plan before it matured. Israel failed to penetrate the internal front. On the contrary, the failure only reinforced societal cohesion and deepened the people’s appreciation for any force that maintained their safety amid bombardment and starvation.

The Rafah plan, however, is the most recent and the bloodiest and most complex of these projects. After running out of options, Israel shifted its focus to the south, attempting to seize Rafah as the “last corner” of Gaza. What it encountered there was fierce resistance and deeply rooted popular defiance—turning the plan into yet another military and moral quagmire in its growing record of failures.

Thus, from one project to another, the occupation sought to reconfigure Gaza on its own terms—but found itself facing a wall of awareness and resistance immune to both humanitarian deception and military brutality. Each new failure reinforced a deeper conviction in the Palestinian consciousness: this land can only be reshaped by the will of its people.

At the heart of all these Zionist schemes, Palestinian popular steadfastness has been the decisive factor that disrupted Israel’s calculations and shattered its bets on subjugation. This resilience was not a mere emotional reaction or temporary response—it became a strategic obstacle to the occupation’s programming, thanks to a mature collective awareness and a deeply rooted culture of challenge and survival. Despite famine, relentless bombardment, and the absence of even the barest essentials for life, the people clung to their land and homes and refused to be reshaped as refugees or humanitarian subjects. Palestinian media played a crucial role in reinforcing this awareness, while growing international coverage helped convey the image of steadfastness to the world and expose the falsehood of the Zionist narrative.

Simultaneously, the resistance carried out its role on the ground—not only in repelling attacks but in disrupting the very core of the Zionist plan: to empty the land and impose new realities. Throughout the months of battle, Israel failed to establish a permanent presence in any of the areas it invaded, because the resistance turned every incursion route into a quagmire of attrition. In the ongoing battle for Rafah, this tactic became clear: fierce combat, booby-trapped tunnels, infiltration operations, and an unyielding will to fight at any cost. The resistance has proven that no matter how powerful the occupier may be, it cannot program a people fighting for survival—nor reshape land where resistance grows as surely as flowers bloom amid the rubble.

Palestinians did not merely disrupt the occupation’s programming—they went further: redefining reality on their own terms, not according to the force imposed upon them. Through popular unity, innovative resistance, and deep engagement in the narrative of struggle, the people of Gaza have reimagined the scene from a position of agency, not victimhood. Gaza is no longer just a besieged area—it has become a global symbol of resilience and an ethical litmus test that reveals who stands for values and who colludes with genocide. The image of the Strip has changed in international consciousness: the occupation is now questioned rather than justified. The political and moral costs of the aggression have soared, and the deterrence equation has shifted—even in the face of an imbalanced power dynamic—because willpower is not measured by the number of warplanes, but by a people’s ability to endure and resist.

In conclusion, in the face of one of the most complex and ferocious attempts at subjugation in modern history, the Palestinians in Gaza have proven that no occupation can program a people who carry their consciousness, history, and pain in one hand—and their rifle and bread in the other. Project after project of control has collapsed—not only because the occupier miscalculated, but because Gaza holds a counter-equation: the equation of life under bombardment, steadfastness in the face of fragmentation, and the belief that reality is not shaped in war rooms, but in the alleys of refugee camps and the blood of martyrs. This is not merely resistance—it is a rewriting of Palestinian time in a language the occupier cannot understand: the language of will and resilience.

italiatelegraph