Asif Mahmood
In the occupied West Bank city of Hebron ( AlKhalil) , a strange proposal is making the rounds: some local tribal figures have reportedly written to the Israeli government, offering to declare Hebron an independent state. In return, these notables say, Hebron will recognise Israel. They argue it could bring peace.

At first glance, this may seem like a desperate but creative attempt to break the stalemate. But look a little closer, and the real story comes out: this is not diplomacy, it is collaboration. This isn’t a peace plan—it’s colonial outsourcing.

Let’s be clear: Hebron is not an autonomous zone. It is an occupied Palestinian city under Israeli military control. Israeli settlers live there illegally, protected by soldiers, while Palestinian residents face daily restrictions, checkpoints, and apartheid laws.

Under international law—including Article 2(4) of the UN Charter and countless UN resolutions—occupation does not equal sovereignty. The occupying power does not acquire title to the land, nor does it gain the right to redraw borders. It is there, legally speaking, as a temporary custodian—not a landlord.

So what authority does Israel have to negotiate the future of Hebron? None. What legal power do a few tribal elders have to sign away Palestinian territory and national rights? Also none.

Palestine is not a tribal patchwork—it’s a nation, and a people with a shared identity, recognised as such by the majority of the world’s states and international organisations. The idea that it can be chopped up and sold off city by city, faction by faction, is not just illegal—it is colonial logic repackaged.

This proposal to turn Hebron into a micro-state recalls earlier imperial strategies: divide the natives, empower collaborators, and then call the resulting arrangement “self-governance”.

But self-determination cannot be brokered in backrooms under occupation. It belongs to the people, not to local elites seeking to cut a deal with the coloniser. That is the principle enshrined in international law and reaffirmed in every major legal judgment on occupied territories.

It is no secret that every occupier finds willing partners. There were Indian princely states who backed the British Raj. There were Algerians who worked for French colonial rule. But the presence of collaborators does not legitimise the occupation—it only prolongs it.

Israel has long used this tactic in the West Bank: empowering client elites, bypassing national institutions, and offering perks in exchange for loyalty. The Hebron initiative appears to be a continuation of this model—except now, the reward is a puppet state fenced in by its occupiers.

This isn’t about freedom—it’s about breaking Palestine apart..

If Israel can carve out a new state from Hebron, what stops it from doing the same elsewhere? Should Gaza become a separate emirate under permanent siege? Should Jerusalem be annexed one neighbourhood at a time? Should the entire West Bank be transformed into isolated bantustans under different tribal banners?

International law offers no support for this. Nor does history. Even the 1947 UN Partition Plan—which Palestinians rightly rejected—assigned Hebron to the Arab state. Israel’s current occupation of it is illegal, full stop.

And let’s not confuse this with movements like Kashmir, where the people seek decolonisation, not division. Hebron is not asking to liberate itself from occupation. This plan asks Palestinians to accept their captors as sovereigns—and to thank them for the privilege.

At its core, the Hebron micro-state idea is an attempt to convert surrender into diplomacy. It is occupation with a fresh coat of paint. A fantasy driven not by freedom, but by fear and betrayal.

But even desperation must have its limits. Palestinian rights are not up for sale. They cannot be erased by silence, or dismantled by tribal committees. The law, and history, stand firmly on the side of those resisting—not those subcontracting the occupation.

The world should see this proposal for what it is: not a solution, but a symptom of colonial rule. And like all colonial projects, it will fail—because people do not forget who they are, no matter how many flags you plant on their soil.