In Gaza, as in the rest of the Palestinian territories occupied by Israel, the anniversary of the late President Yasser Arafat's death still holds weight.
In the coastal enclave shattered by years of Israeli wars and siege, where familiar landmarks like the Unknown Soldier Square and battalion headquarters no longer stand, Palestinians mark the day not with ceremonies but through social media.
Photos, videos, and memories circulate online on platforms such as Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter, creating a "virtual monument" to a leader whose presence, although absent for more than two decades, remains deeply ingrained in the collective Palestinian consciousness.
Gaza residents, speaking separately with The New Arab, recall that even after 21 years, Arafat's legacy and as a symbol of Palestinian identity continue to resonate.
"Even in our darkest hours, we felt that he understood the sacrifices we were making," Samar al-Hassan, a Gaza-based woman, told TNA.
"Arafat was like us; his greatest concern was the people. He didn't make political calculations at the expense of ordinary Palestinians," she said.
One of the most important scenes she will never forget occurred during the Israeli siege of the Ramallah-based Muqata'a, when Arafat was surrounded and emerged thin and exhausted, angrily telling journalists, "Ask me about my people; my people are being slaughtered." That moment defines him for us, she added.
Struggle and symbolism
Born in Cairo in 1929 to a politically aware Palestinian family, the late President Yasser Arafat's formative years were marked by activism in student and youth organisations, shaping his lifelong dedication to the Palestinian national cause.
In the 1950s, he co-founded Fatah, which became the backbone of the Palestinian armed struggle against Israeli occupation.
By 1969, he had become Chairman of the Executive Committee of the Palestine Liberation Organisation (PLO), elevating the organisation to international recognition as the legitimate representative of the Palestinian people.
His leadership combined military resistance with political strategy. He navigated complex regional alliances while maintaining the legitimacy of the Palestinian cause on the international stage.
One of the most defining moments of his career came in the 1980s, when he withdrew Palestinian forces from southern Lebanon. The area had been a battlefield, with heavy casualties among civilians and fighters alike.
Arafat's decision to leave was not one of defeat, but rather one of protection.
"His withdrawal from Lebanon was not an escape, but a protection of civilians. They wept that day and showered him with roses and tears," Mohammed Hassan, a Gaza-based man, told TNA.
"For us [the Palestinians], the decision reflected a moral leadership principle: the people's lives came above all political and military objectives," he said.
The 1990s marked another pivotal phase. With the Oslo Accords, Arafat returned to the Palestinian territories after decades in exile.
The agreement recognised the PLO as the legitimate representative of the Palestinian people and granted limited self-rule, marking a historic shift in the national struggle. Palestinians greeted his return with hope.
"He represented unity and continuity. Even as we faced enormous internal and external pressures, Arafat embodied the possibility that political negotiation and resistance could coexist," Hassan said.
During this period, he added, Arafat focused on institution-building, strengthening national identity, and balancing the demands of international diplomacy with the aspirations of the Palestinian people.
"He would get angry if a Palestinian was insulted or exploited. He always said: 'The people are not a bargaining chip, the people are not a sacrifice, the people are a red line.' That was his guiding principle," Mohammed al-Qodwa, another Gaza-based resident, told TNA.
"This year, despite the destruction around us, young people are sharing his stories, and his pictures are everywhere. We relive his journey through their eyes," he said.
Even across political divides, Arafat's charisma remains undeniable. Ali al-Sayed, aligned with Hamas, told TNA, "Even those who disagreed with him politically cannot deny his influence. He could combine political and armed resistance, maintain balance among Palestinian factions, and manage relations with international actors. His absence left a void that continues to deepen the divisions we see today."
Political vacuum and its consequences
Yasser Arafat passed away on 11 November 2004, in a Paris hospital, after a sudden and severe illness. His death plunged Palestinians into mourning, while also sparking controversy.
Many suspected foul play, with accusations directed toward Israel and theories of poisoning circulating widely. However, official investigations by Russia and France remained inconclusive and say there is no foul play.
These suspicions reflected the deep mistrust and unresolved tensions surrounding Arafat’s final days, underscoring how his life—and death—remained inseparable from the realities of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
Palestinian political analysts argue that Arafat's death created a leadership vacuum that Palestinian institutions have struggled to fill.
"Abu Ammar's leadership bridged armed struggle and political negotiation. He could reconcile factional differences and impose a national vision that served the greater interest. His absence weakened the culture of collective action and escalated divisions," Esmat Mansour, a Ramallah-based political expert, told TNA.
"After Arafat, there was no figure capable of combining historical legitimacy with tactical political manoeuvring. Institutions took over, but without reforms or effective renewal of legitimacy. The party system fragmented, polarisation increased, and the ability to present a unified negotiating platform was severely compromised," he said.
"Field operations became the focus, but strategic national planning was lost. Health, electricity, water, and other basic services deteriorated, and dependence on emergency aid rose. Civil society networks filled some gaps but could not replace the cohesion provided by a central unifying figure," he added.
"The absence of Arafat made the Palestinian cause more dependent on regional and international actors," Salah Abdul Ati, a Palestinian political analyst from Gaza, told TNA.
He said that the internal division between Gaza and the occupied West Bank, coupled with conflicting messages to the outside world, hindered Palestinians from translating international support into tangible political achievements.
Both Mansour and Abdul Ati believe that unless Palestinian factions reconcile their political visions, the struggle for a unified, effective strategy against Israel remains stalled.
Arafat's absence, they insist, is not merely historical; it is a living void that continues to shape the challenges of Palestinian political life and the daily hardships of its people.