RECENTLY I watched a K-drama series about a high school boy who loved studying and dreamed of college but unfortunately was stuck in a school ruled by bullies. The environment was so toxic that a gangster group — led by the biggest school bully — practically ran the school, manipulating not only the students but also the administration, thanks to his wealthy and influential father. Everyone knew who the bully was, who the victims were, and where justice lay. But bullying had become so deeply ingrained in the school’s culture that no one dared to resist. As long as they could stay safe and avoid upsetting the gangster, they accepted the status quo; that is, until the main characters challenged the corrupt system and began dismantling its longstanding culture of violence.
Gradually, more students took the side of the protagonists and united against the oppressor. As the gang’s power began to unravel, they responded with more violence, clinging to the illusion that physical domination meant victory. But the truth was plain to all: the bully and his allies were wrong, evil, and morally bankrupt. Deep down, every student admired the main characters for speaking up, despite the humiliation they faced in the process, and everyone knew the bully’s downfall was only a matter of time.
As the plot unfolded, I couldn’t help but notice how predictable it was. Naturally, the big bully would lose and perish in his arrogance, self-deception, and denial. Everyone else saw the writing on the wall. But the villain refused to acknowledge his inevitable defeat. In a desperate attempt to maintain control, he resorted to more outrageous violence and irrational behaviour, eventually spiralling into chaos.
Such is the irony unfolding in Palestine. The occupying power, Israel, has been bullying Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank for decades. But today, as the legitimacy of its long-standing narratives crumbles and resistance intensifies globally, Israel is losing its grip. And just like the school gangster, it is running amok and lashing out senselessly. Since October 2023, Israel has decimated entire neighbourhoods, flattened buildings, starved children, obliterated hospitals and universities, and massacred people lining up for food. All these were done in an attempt to terrorise and expel Gaza’s population en masse.
Beyond Palestine, Israel is weaponising its political influence to pressure allies into suppressing, harassing, and silencing anyone who dares to speak out. And yet, more and more people are waking up to the truth. Many who remain silent still recognise what is happening and quietly admire those who speak up. It is only a matter of time before Israel faces its eventual, irreversible defeat. But like all bullies, Israel and its allies are unwilling to admit this. They remain desperately committed to the illusion of control, even as their narrative collapses. As history and human nature have shown time and again, tyrants are often undone by their own arrogance — until it is far too late.
I argue that Israel’s downfall is not only likely but inevitable. In fact, it is already unfolding. Here’s why:
First, the world is now gradually, but surely, rising against the genocide in Gaza. From South Africa’s case at the ICJ to the growing wave of global protests, the tide is turning. More media outlets are giving space to Palestinian voices and realities, abandoning the stale Israeli talking points that once dominated the mainstream narrative. Even the decades-long abuse of the term ‘anti-Semitism’ to stifle criticism is now openly challenged, as people differentiate between genuine anti-Jewish hatred and rightful opposition to Israeli apartheid and violence.
Second, some governments, especially those with colonialist histories, are cracking down on domestic dissent with an intensity not seen in recent times. This is not a sign of strength, but of insecurity. The increasing authoritarianism is a symptom of panic, a desperate attempt to control the uncontrollable. These regimes are realising they can no longer keep public opinion in check, and the backlash is growing louder, bolder, and more persistent.
Third, public opinion is shifting rapidly. Surveys across various countries have shown declining support for Israel and growing sympathy for the Palestinian struggle. This would have been unthinkable a few decades ago, when mainstream media successfully painted Israel as the perpetual victim needing self-defence and Palestinians as the aggressors. Today, that lie is fading fast, replaced by a deeper awareness of the asymmetry, injustice, and cruelty of the brutal occupation.
Fourth, despite over 600 days of relentless violence (from October 2023 to July 2025 as of now), the people of Gaza have achieved a profound moral victory. Their steadfastness and resilience under siege and massive bombardment have captured the world’s admiration. Palestinians, against all odds, are becoming a universal symbol of resistance, justice, and human dignity. Their courage inspires oppressed communities across the globe. Meanwhile, Israel continues to speak of wanting ‘victory over Hamas’ as though eliminating a resistance group through mass death and destruction could erase the core problem. But real victory is not measured by demolition or physical strength. Nor is it established through wealth, political influence, or intimidation. Real victory is measured by legitimacy, by truth, and by moral clarity.
Last, and perhaps the most glaring contradiction, Israel and its chief ally, the United States, have openly discussed their intentions to forcefully depopulate Gaza. This is no secret. Numerous efforts (and ideas) have been put forward to displace Gazans: from offering monetary compensation to coercing voluntary departure, to blockading aid, to bombing women and children, to destroying all basic infrastructures. The aim is clear: make Gaza uninhabitable so those who survive have no choice but to flee and never return.
But here lies the great paradox: Israel has deployed the full force of its military on Gaza, dropped bombs like confetti, and cut off food, water, and electricity, believing this would make Palestinians disappear. Ethnic cleansing, after all, is supposed to be fast and efficient. But against all odds, Gazans stripped of everything but their dignity cling tightly to their land. They bury their dead, sleep in rubble, and say, (surprise!) ‘We’re staying.’ The plan to depopulate Gaza has thus turned into a logistical and political nightmare.
Meanwhile, in Israel, the so-called ‘safe haven’ and the ‘promised land’, citizens are fleeing in huge masses, voluntarily. On June 16, 2025, Haaretz reported that the Israeli government instructed airlines not to let citizens leave. Since October 7, 2023, nearly half a million Israelis are believed to have fled, according to Middle East Monitor, while another Haaretz report found that 40 per cent of those still in the country considered leaving. The contrast is striking. The state trying to brutally drive people out of Gaza is now struggling to keep its own citizens from fleeing. As Israel desperately evacuates the occupied, it struggles to pacify a jittery and distrustful public at home. This is like trying to burn down someone else’s house while your own roof is on fire, and your family has already packed their bags. Except that the house isn’t yours; it’s stolen.
This is not just a military failure; it is a crisis of legitimacy, of narrative, of soul. And somehow, amid all the madness, it is the people of Gaza – bombed, starved, and betrayed – who stand firm. That is what we call a moral victory. After all, the strongest wall in war is not made of concrete; it is made of conviction.
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Raudah Yunus is a researcher, writer and social activist, pursuing a postdoctoral fellowship in the United States.
