The Palestinian declaration of independence of 1988 in Algeria was structured in a way that would allow the Palestinian Liberation Organization’s (PLO) Executive Committee to devise foreign policy and thus represent the Palestinian people in any future settlement with Israel.

But the Oslo Accords of September 1993 demoted the function of the Executive Committee and eventually undermined the import of the PLO altogether, concentrated the power in the hands of a few at the helm of the Palestinian Authority: President Yasser Arafat and a clique of business contractors and ex-revolutionaries-turned wartime profiteers.

That combination destroyed the achievements of the first Palestinian uprising of 1987-1993, in ways that Israel could only dream of. It destroyed the impressive national unity achieved by the Palestine-based leadership of various parties and damaged Palestinian credibility, regionally and internationally. Israel of course enjoyed the spectacle, as Palestinians bickered endlessly and as the PA’s Preventative Security and its massive apparatus carried out daily onslaughts against those who opposed the autocratic methods of the government, desperately trying to demonstrate its worthiness to Israel and the United States.

Abbas, then, was of the opinion that if Arafat refuses to share power, the Fatah dispute would exasperate and could lead to a failed government. Both the US administration and the Israeli government backed Abbas, with the hope that Abbas — described by late professor Edward Said as a “mildly corrupt” person — would hand over the little remaining political “concessions” that Arafat wouldn’t, a sin that cost Arafat his freedom in his later years.

Though Abbas was elected president a few months after Arafat’s passing in November 2004, he needed some political legitimacy to negotiate or renegotiate Palestinian rights with Israel. That hope was dashed by the Parliamentary elections of January 2006 that brought in a Hamas-led government two months later. The United States, Europe and Canada responded with a most inhumane economic siege. The so-called liberated Gaza, once hoped to be the cornerstone of Palestinian independence, was deliberately turned into a hub of lawlessness and violence.

Palestinian morgues mounted with bodies when Israel unleashed its tactlessly termed Summer Rain, an intensive military onslaught that killed 291 Palestinians, one-third of them children, in July and August alone.

Palestinians, though browbeaten and fatigued — denied salaries, physically besieged, politically isolated, no electricity and plenty of contaminated water — were desperately trying to shield their democratic choice. The issue by then had transcended to that of Hamas, Fatah and their ideological differences, to that of a nation denied the right to make its own choices, to choose its representatives and hold them to account.

But Hamas too was learning the harsh reality of being in the position of leadership. Unlike Arafat, Hamas wanted to seek support from its Arab and Muslim milieu, the devastatingly unexplored strategic alliances undermined by the PA’s incessant reliance on the West. But even Hamas itself seemed unaware of the extent of weakness and political deficiency of the Arabs and Muslims. Hamas also learned, the hard way, that the US rapport with Israel would never weaken.

It was within this context that Abbas and Haniyeh convened to form a coalition government. Abbas — and mainstream Fatah behind him — must’ve realized that the harder Hamas is hit, the stronger its popular support grows, thus undermining Fatah’s own chances of political recovery. Although Hamas has called for a national unity government from the start, it did so from a position of strength, and a hint of arrogance. Now, a national unity government is their only outlet to the world: Without it, neither their survival, as a relevant political movement, nor its declared objectives are realizable. Moreover, a generation of already malnourished children are facing a formidable humanitarian crisis; something had to be done.

But amidst the rush to form a government, key questions will hardly be laid to rest: Who will speak on behalf of the Palestinian people to the world community? Who will formulate their foreign policy agenda? And who will be entrusted with the task of defending or redefining their national constants — the refugees right of return, the uncompromised end to the Israeli occupation, preserving their water rights, removal of all settlements, borders, etc. Will it be Abbas, chairman of the PLO, or the elected legislative council and government?

This quandary should be the cause of distraught for anyone who wishes to see a real and lasting peace.

If any peace settlement fails to adhere to the democratic concept, according to which Palestinians wish to govern themselves, then Palestinians should ready themselves for another Oslo-style agreement, imposed from the top, and rubber stamped by the PLO’s Executive Committee, long-devoid of its democratic principles and dominated by the elitist few. I too am engulfed with worries. Our democratic experience should not be squandered, not again.

— Ramzy Baroud’s latest book: The Second Palestinian Intifada: A Chronicle of a People’s Struggle (Pluto Press, London) is now available online and bookshops.