Doha huddle

Nearly 60 Muslim nations assembled in Doha this week for an extraordinary session of the Arab League and the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation in the wake of the Israel strike on the Qatari capital targeting Hamas officials engaged in ceasefire negotiations. While the Hamas men remained safe, the attack left six people dead. Israel has, over the years, extended its military reach across Syria, Lebanon, and even Iran. Yet Doha is no ordinary battlefield. To strike in the heart of a Gulf capital — one that serves as a diplomatic hub and a host to sensitive negotiations — is to send a calculated message that no sanctuary is beyond reach.

The joint communiqué that followed the summit in Doha carried unusually forceful language. Member states were urged to review diplomatic and economic ties with Israel, and coordinate efforts to suspend its UN membership. Qatar's Emir Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani accused Israel of deliberately sabotaging the ceasefire track, noting that assassinating interlocutors is incompatible with any genuine pursuit of peace. The gathering was notable not only for its size but for its composition as well. Countries that had normalised relations under the Abraham Accords — the UAE, Bahrain and Morocco — joined the chorus of condemnation. For once, the summit spoke with uncommon clarity.

Yet the credibility test is immense. The Muslim world has convened countless such meetings, issuing fiery rhetoric only for the momentum to dissipate. Israel's strike in Doha has now shifted the calculus. The choice before them is stark. To translate outrage into concrete diplomatic and economic measures would mark a departure from decades of empty ritual. To lapse once more into inertia would expose the yawning gulf between rhetoric and action. For states that publicly decry Israel's conduct while privately sustaining ties with it, the strike in Doha has stripped away the last pretence.