Divisions within divisions

ON THE West Bank, the bigger chunk of a would-be Palestinian state, ageing leaders have been pondering how to thwart an eruption by a frustrated people seeking to emulate their Egyptian cousins. Some think they can deflect anger, albeit non-violently, onto Israel. Others have called for elections to all Palestinian governing bodies, including the presidency, the parliament and local councils, within six months. Yet others think the best way forward is to try once again to share power with Hamas, the rival Islamist movement that runs the Gaza Strip. In truth, no one knows what will happen. The most unlikely development is the early resumption of peace talks with Israel.

Most Palestinian leaders acknowledge that things on their home ground have been going wrong. Five years ago they could boast, albeit briefly, that their fledgling state was more democratic than almost anywhere in the Arab world. But today's Palestinian Authority (PA), their ruling body, has become more akin to the security regimes that Tunisians and Egyptians have just sloughed off. Mahmoud Abbas's presidential term has constitutionally expired yet he is still in office; and three years into his job, the prime minister, Salam Fayyad, has yet to be ratified by parliament. On February 14th, partly to pre-empt protests, he and the Palestinians' chief peace negotiator with Israel, Saeb Erekat, resigned. A top Palestinian official admitted that “those who stand in freedom's way will be swept away.”

But whether such measures can restore the PA's legitimacy is questionable. Mr Abbas promptly asked Mr Fayyad to form a new government. The PA's president set no date for elections, which have been cancelled before when the results looked likely to be unfavourable. The PA authorities, with bully-boys at the ready, are poised to ban protests. And liberal contenders for power, such as Mustafa Barghouti, may now busy themselves preparing for an election rather than running mass protests in the street.

It is a gamble. Mr Abbas has promised not to stand again for the presidency, and Mr Fayyad may also have had enough, preferring to let others take the blame for his failure to produce an independent Palestinian state by September this year, as Barack Obama and he had promised. Without the two pro-Western Palestinian leaders, the PA might become rudderless.

Moreover, Hamas has dismissed the offer of an election out of hand. And it is loth to accept the PA's terms for a government of national unity, since it would have to accept PA political control of its own military wing—though it says it has accepted another demand, the disavowal of violence. In any event, Hamas has been emboldened by the fall of Hosni Mubarak, Egypt's president and its sworn enemy. It may think the tide is running its way, leaving it to rule Gaza, whatever its rivals on the West Bank think. A frustrated Gazan offers a simpler explanation for Hamas's rejection of elections. “They'd never allow them here. They know they'd lose.”

Hamas has scant tolerance for public dissent. To ward off a “dignity uprising” called for on February 11th, it deployed fighters with automatic rifles. Its security men summoned internet users for questioning, trawled through Facebook for addresses, and took their computers.

The Islamist movement may be biding its time. Egypt's American-equipped army, not the Muslim Brotherhood, of which Hamas is a branch, still controls Egypt. Despite the fall of Mr Mubarak, the Egyptians have yet to open their border with Gaza. So Gazans are still penned in, thanks to the joint effort of Egypt and Israel.

Gaza has some of the same features that affected Tunisia and Egypt: poverty, oppressive rule, corruption and the spread of digital media. Hamas ministers invariably reiterate that Gaza's government was democratically elected. But that was more than five years ago. And Hamas's puritanical killjoys continue to make enemies. Its God squads banned Valentine's Day celebrations, looking for heart-shaped balloons and telling waiters to replace their colourful bow-ties with black ones. Even so, quite a few ladies celebrating the event in Gaza's restaurants wore a romantic red.

“I wish our people would hear the hoofbeats of history,” says Ahmed Yusuf, a former official of the Hamas government. “Otherwise they will lose.” Others say that Hamas is unwise to reject the PA's offer of reconciliation and put its trust in a friendly new regime in Egypt. If Hamas remains isolated, the links between Gaza and the West Bank may become even weaker, dimming hopes of an eventual single Palestinian state.

Since Egypt's upheaval, officials in Ramallah, the PA's headquarters on the West Bank, have been busily telephoning their Hamas counterparts in Gaza, hoping to persuade them to seek national reconciliation or accept elections. Hamas's leadership in Syria has helpfully called for the two main Palestinian factions to form a joint committee to prepare for elections. But few think they are likely to take place on time, if at all. Both Palestinian factions look as divided and power-hungry as ever. And, despite its problems in Gaza, Hamas looks the less unhappy of the two.