Why Palestinian leaders keep saying no to statehood

The roots of Palestinian rejectionism reach back far more than the establishment of the State of Israel. It has hovered at the centre of Middle Eastern politics for more than a century, been invoked in countless speeches at the United Nations, debated in every Western capital, and often framed by the more naive of politicians and influencers as the key to regional peace. And yet, what is frequently forgotten – or perhaps deliberately overlooked – is that Palestinian leaders have been offered statehood on multiple occasions, even before their supposed ‘apartheid’ that began with the birth of the Jewish state in 1948, back in the 1930s.

Hajj Amin al-Husseini, the Jerusalem Mufti and leading figure of the Palestinian Arabs from the early 1920s to the late 1940s, left little doubt to be had about his intentions: testifying before the British Peel Commission in 1937, which had been estalished that very January to search for a way forward for Arabs and Jews in Palestine, he declared that ‘most residents of Jewish lands will not be awarded citizenship in our future country.’ Essentially, he would expunge the Jews. Rejecting outright the very notion of a Jewish state, he promised that if such a state were ever established, every last Jew would be expelled from a state run by the Palestinian Arabs.

This continued for decades, with the same Mufti refusing to adopt the UN partition plan that offered two states – one Jewish, one Arab – in November 1947. Until the day he died in 1974, he rejected any two-state solution. Had he agreed to the UN plan, Palestinians would have gained a state far larger than what has ever been on offer since.

His successor, Yasser Arafat, carried this rejectionist tradition forward: for decades, Arafat refused to acknowledge Israel’s existence, raising the PLO’s banner of ‘armed resistance’ instead. He was the mastermind behind the terror in Israel’s streets, the Lebanese Civil War of 1975-1991, and Jordan’s Black September in 1970. He even backed Saddam Hussein’s invasion of Kuwait in 1991, and in doing so, alienated much of the world. His refusal to compromise became, from that moment on, a defining principle of Palestinian political leadership.

When the Peel Commission proposed partition in July 1937, Jews would have received a sliver of land along the coast and Galilee, with the Arabs as the recipients of the rest. David Ben-Gurion and Chaim Weizmann accepted despite misgivings, but the Arab Higher Committee, led by the Mufti, rejected it outright and launched the Arab Revolt of 1936-1939. A state for the Palestinians could have been established then, nearly nine decades ago.

In November 1947, the United Nations put forward for consideration Resolution 181, to partition the land into two states, which the Jewish Agency accepted. The Arab states and Palestinian leadership, however, refused and launched war as soon as Israel declared independence on 14 May 1948. The result was catastrophic for the Palestinians: over 700,000 Palestinians were displaced, many into permanent exile.

But the war had consequences for Israel, too: over 4,000 soldiers died in combat and other military engagements during its course; 2,400 civilians were killed; and another 15,000 were wounded, both military and civilian. In all, there were 21,400 casualties.

The aftermath of the 1967 Six-Day War placed the choice again before Arab leaders. In 1967, the Arab League convened in Khartoum and issued the ‘three noes’: no peace, no recognition of any sort, no negotiations with Israel, the ‘aggressor.’

But the Oslo Accords of 1993 appeared to offer a new path when Yasser Arafat shook hands with Yitzhak Rabin on the White House lawn on 13 September 1993, formally recognizing the right of Israel to simply exist. When the most tangible offers arrived, however, the old pattern reemerged. At Camp David in July 2000, Ehud Barak and Bill Clinton offered Arafat around 92 per cent of the West Bank, all of Gaza, and East Jerusalem as a capital. Arafat walked away. The Second Intifada followed, leaving thousands dead.

Even in January 2020, when Donald Trump unveiled his ‘Deal of the Century’, flawed though it was, it still contained provisions for Palestinian sovereignty. Mahmoud Abbas rejected it before the details were even published.

Despite this history of rejection, of a refusal to negotiate in ego, European leaders are now racing to grant recognition to ‘Palestine’ as though none of this had even happened. Keir Starmer in Britain, Pedro Sánchez in Spain, António Costa in Portugal, Justin Trudeau in Canada, Anthony Albanese in Australia – have all chosen symbolism over substance. They have accepted as fact, in willful ignorance, the notion that the reason no Palestinian state exists today is because of Israeli ‘occupation’ and aggression. They disregard, however, the fact that no Palestinian state exists today because Palestinian leaders rejected it outright.

To reward decades of rejection is not diplomacy; it is indulgence. It indulges Palestinian leaders, with their ‘pay to slay’ policies and manifestos dedicated to the complete ethnic cleansing of the State of Israel, rather than to a peaceful state of its own, to tell them that their strategy of refusal carries no cost at all, and that Europe will continue to supply validation whenever they wish it.

The refugee question, too, underscores this indulgence. Unlike any displaced population on Earth, Palestinians remain the sole group whose refugee status is passed from generation to generation under UNRWA’s mandate, created in 1949. A child born in London to Syrian refugees is a Londoner; a child born in Amman in 1980 to parents displaced in 1948 is still counted as a refugee in 2025. This policy, unique in international law, only serves to perpetuate the notion of unending exile. When media companies speak of ‘record numbers’ of refugees, such is to be expected: people have children. The children of Palestinian refugees are to be seen not as citizens of Jordan, Lebanon, or elsewhere, but as eternal refugees.

Each rejection of statehood must be understood in that light: accepting statehood in 1937, 1947, 2000, or 2008 would have required closing this chapter of return; it would have required recognizing Israel as permanent. And yet, for leaders whose power depends solely on grievance, to do such a thing has always been too high a price. Better to sustain generations in camps, better to promise them that their exile is temporary if they would simply ‘rise up’ in ‘armed resistance’ to destroy their oppressors, than to admit a compromise is the only road that remains to sovereignty.

Each past refusal has left Palestinians weaker. Until Palestinian leaders prove themselves capable of accepting compromise, no amount of recognition in the safe halls of London, Madrid, Lisbon, Ottawa or Canberra will act to create any sort of peace. Six times, and more, a state was within reach. Six times it was refused. The question is now is whether Palestinian leaders will ever muster the courage to say yes.