Debate Rages Over Exiling Hamas Leaders: A Path to Peace or a Risky Gamble?
As Israel weighs exiling Hamas leaders to end the Gaza war, a fierce debate erupts over whether it’s a strategic breakthrough or a repeat of past blunders. With Iran poised to host Hamas’s political bureau, the proposal faces historical, regional, and security concerns.

As negotiations to end the Gaza war drag on, a controversial proposal is gaining traction: exiling top Hamas leaders and their families to a third country in exchange for sparing their lives, wrapping up the conflict, and securing the release of hostages. But experts warn this "deal with the devil" could backfire, drawing parallels to past failures and pointing to Hamas's deepening ties with Iran, which may be actively sabotaging any potential agreement.
The idea stems from ongoing talks about Gaza's "day after," a phrase that's become synonymous with uncertainty. Proponents see expulsion as a strategic compromise, removing the "head of the snake" to dismantle Hamas's command structure while building trust for a broader deal. It could send a strong deterrent to lower-level operatives and pave the way for stability. Yet, history suggests otherwise, with similar moves often empowering exiled groups rather than neutralizing them.
Recent reports add urgency to the debate. The London-based pan-Arab news site Rai Al-Youm revealed this week that Hamas is plotting to relocate its political bureau from Doha, Qatar, to Tehran, Iran. Sources say Iran has given the green light, though the move would start as temporary due to fears of Israeli assassinations on Iranian soil, like the July 2024 Mossad killing of former Hamas political chief Ismail Haniyeh in Tehran.
This shift shows Hamas's strengthening alliance with Iran, amplifying Tehran's regional influence over militant groups. But it also exposes leaders to greater risks from Israel's targeted operations abroad. The timing isn't coincidental, analysts say, potentially positioning Hamas for harder-line stances in negotiations with Israel.
Historical precedents fuel skepticism. In the 1982 First Lebanon War, Israel expelled hundreds of PLO fighters from Beirut, sending Yasser Arafat and his inner circle to Tunisia. The goal was to install a pro-Western government in Lebanon and broker peace, but Syrian opposition and Arafat's resurgence derailed it. Exiled leaders often become potent symbols, free to recruit, plan, and inspire from afar.
A more direct cautionary tale is the 1992 mass deportation of 415 Hamas and Islamic Jihad activists by the Rabin government, following the kidnapping and murder of a border police officer. Intended to cripple the groups' infrastructure, the deportees ended up in a no-man's-land in southern Lebanon after Beirut refused entry. There, Hezbollah welcomed them, providing advanced training in explosives and tactics.
What started as isolation turned into a "terrorism academy." The Sunni Hamas and Shiite Hezbollah forged a lasting military bond, leading to upgraded attacks like the suicide bombings of the early 2000s. "Instead of cutting off the head, Israel inadvertently strengthened it," notes Yehuda Glickman in Kikar HaShabbat magazine. This alliance evolved into the Hamas-Iran-Hezbollah axis, now a core threat to Israeli security.
Iran's role looms large. Four months ago, Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz unveiled secret documents showing Hamas leaders Yahya Sinwar and Mohammed Deif coordinating with Iran's Revolutionary Guards. They sought $500 million from late Quds Force commander Qasem Soleimani to "destroy Israel," with Tehran approving billions in support despite its domestic economic woes. This funding directly fueled the October 7, 2023, attacks, per the files.
Post-war blows to both sides have only tightened these bonds, raising fears that Iran is undermining hostage talks to prolong the conflict and bolster its proxies.
Not everyone dismisses expulsion outright. Adam Hoffman, Middle East desk head at consulting firm Wikistrat, argues in an Institute for National Security Studies article that it could work under strict conditions: targeting only high-profile figures, not en masse, and sending them to stable Western countries with strong intelligence ties to Israel. Such nations could enforce restrictions, limiting exiles' influence unlike chaotic spots like 1990s Lebanon.
Key questions remain: Will any country accept Hamas brass? Could exile breed new ideological strongholds? And would Israelis stomach what some see as a concession amid ongoing bloodshed?
As the proposal circulates, it walks a fine line between pragmatic resolution and historical blunder. With no easy fixes for deep-rooted issues, the past serves as a stark warning: Exiling enemies might just give them wings.