Fati Shaki was just making a stopover in Malta, returning from Libya to Syria when everything changed.
He never imagined that this routine stopover in a small, tranquil Mediterranean country would be the last place he would set foot.
October 26th, 1995.
The leader of the Palestinian Islamic Jihad leaves the diplomat hotel in SMA, strolling through the sunny streets like any tourist, absorbed in the normaly of that Mediterranean afternoon.
At that moment, Malta was just another dot on the map, a neutral place far removed from the conflicts that defined his life.
But something was about to happen.
Something that would raise questions to this day.
Was it an act of preemptive self-defense or a blatant violation of a neutral country’s sovereignty? And look, if you enjoy this kind of story about intelligence operations, strategy, and behind the scenes stuff that we never see in the news, leave a like below.
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What makes this case even more intriguing is that Malta wasn’t a declared battlefield.
There was no war going on there.
It was just a small European country serving as a stopover for a man traveling with a false passport under the name Dr.
Ibrahim Ali Shawesh.
Two motorcyclists approached, fired with professional coolness, and disappeared like ghosts.
No screams, no immediate trace, just Shakake’s body lying on the ground and an entire country in shock.
The world watched through the headlines and was left with one question.
Who has the courage and the capacity to do something like this on foreign soil under the eyes of tourists and security cameras? The answer wasn’t officially forthcoming, but everyone knew where to point.
Mossad, the legendary Israeli intelligence agency known for its bold and controversial operations around the globe.
Now, before we delve into the details of this operation, how it was planned, who carried it out, why Malta was chosen, and what changed afterward, you need to understand one thing.
This wasn’t just another political attack.
It was a landmark that divided opinion, sparked debates about ethics, international law, and strategic effectiveness, and became a symbol of how nations deal with terrorist threats when diplomacy isn’t enough? Does eliminating a leader truly end the threat? Or does it just turn them into a martyr and further fuel the cycle of revenge? That’s the fine line we’ll explore here.
And I assure you, what happened on that sunny day in Malta goes far beyond a simple espionage operation.
To understand all this, you first need to know who Fati Shakakei was and why he became one of the world’s most sought-after targets.
Who is Fathi Shakakei? Fati Shakakei wasn’t just any terrorist who took up arms on impulse or momentary anger.
He was a pediatrician with degrees in physics and mathematics specializing in Egypt who could have made a comfortable living caring for children in his Gaza clinic.
Born in 1951 in Rafa Gaza Strip to a family of Palestinian refugees from the village of Zanuka, Shakakei grew up witnessing the suffering of his people and decided that medicine wouldn’t be enough to heal the wound he truly wanted to treat.
the Israeli occupation.
But what turns a pediatrician into one of the most sought-after men in the world? The answer lies in the 1979 Iranian revolution.
That historic moment when Ayatollah Kmeni overthrew the sha of Iran and created an Islamic Republic.
Shakakei was so impressed by this that he wrote a book called Kmeni, the Islamic Solution and the Alternative.
And lo and behold, the book was so ideologically explosive that it was banned in Egypt almost immediately.
What Shakakei proposed was something that frightened both Israel and secular Arab governments.
He wanted to fuse Palestinian nationalism with radical political Islam.
Inspired by the ideas of Hassan Albana and Sed Kutba, the fathers of the Muslim Brotherhood.
While Yaser Arafat’s PLO, Palestine Liberation Organization, flirted with political negotiations and international recognition, Shaki said, “No, the only language that works is armed resistance, and it must be Islamic, not secular.
” In 1981, he and Abd al- Aziz Aa founded the Palestinian Islamic Jihad, PIG, a group that completely rejected the 1993 Oslo Accords and prioritized direct attacks on Israeli targets.
Think of it this way.
While Arafat was at the negotiating table in a suit and tie, Jaki was planning suicide bombings and bomb attacks that killed civilians.
And this difference in approach made him a prime target for Israel.
But here’s the interesting detail.
Shakakei wasn’t an irrational fanatic hiding in caves.
He was charismatic, bilingual, a reader of Western literature, gave interviews to international journalists, and maintained close ties with Iran, receiving funding and military training through Hezbollah in Lebanon and the
Iranian Revolutionary Guards.
He was in effect the bridge between Palestinian radicalism and Iran’s Shiite expansionism, a combination Israel considered extremely dangerous.
When you add an intelligent, internationally well-connected leader with access to financial and military resources and on top of that a willingness to use tactics like suicide bombings, you have someone who cannot simply be ignored or contained by conventional means.
And this is precisely what brings us to the explosive historical context of the 1990s where everything was about to explode.
Historical context.
To understand why Shikaki was eliminated in 1995, you need to go back in time and experience the atmosphere of the 1990s in the Middle East.
It was like a pressure cooker about to explode.
In 1993, the Oslo Accords took place.
That historic handshake between Yaser Arafat and Yitsak Robin at the White House with Bill Clinton smiling in the middle, promising peace and a better future for Palestinians and Israelis.
But not everyone bought into this idea.
While part of the Palestinian leadership agreed to negotiate and recognize Israel in exchange for limited autonomy, groups like Palestinian Islamic Jihad and Hamas saw it as pure betrayal.
For them, Oslo was surrender disguised as diplomacy and the response should come in the form of blood.
Attacks on buses, markets, restaurants, anywhere they could inflict terror and show that armed resistance was still alive.
Israel in turn became increasingly hardened against these rejectionist groups, creating a spiral of violence that only worsened month after month.
Now imagine Shakakei’s situation in this scenario.
He couldn’t stay in Gaza because Israel had already arrested him twice in 1983 and 1986 and in 1988 deported him to southern Lebanon essentially saying get out of here and never come back.
But deporting Shakakei was like pouring gasoline on the fire because in Lebanon he connected directly with Hezbollah, received advanced training in guerilla tactics, and gained access to heavy funding from Iran, which saw Palestinian Islamic Jihad as a perfect tool to destabilize Israel
without directly soiling its own hands.
By the early 1990s, Shakakei was already based in Damascus under the protection of Syrian dictator Hafz al-Assad, who harbored several Palestinian faction leaders as part of his regional strategy to pressure Israel.
Damascus became the command center, the place from which Shakakei coordinated operations, received Iranian money, and even traveled to Tripoli in Libya to seek extra funding from Muamar Gaddafi.
All while Israel watched with clenched fists.
The perceived threat was real and growing.
Under Shakake’s leadership, the PIJ was behind several high impact attacks, including suicide bombings that killed Israeli civilians and completely undermined the climate of peace Oslo was trying to build.
For Israel, each bomb that exploded was not just a humanitarian tragedy.
It was a political blow to the peace process, a sign that groups like the PIG wielded an armed veto over any diplomatic agreement.
And herein lies the strategic point.
While Arafat tried to convince his people that negotiation was the way forward, Shakakei proved with blood that armed struggles still worked, still garnered international attention, still put Israel on the defensive.
He wasn’t just a military enemy.
He was an ideological enemy that threatened the entire peace narrative.
And when you pose that level of threat, when you have strong international connections, guaranteed funding, and rhetoric that ignites crowds, you automatically make it onto the list of priority targets.
And that’s when the MSAD begins to draw up its plan, preparation of the operation.
When Israel decides someone needs to be eliminated, it’s not a haphazard decision.
There’s a whole process of intelligence, risk analysis, and meticulous planning that can take months or even years.
In Shikaki’s case, the objective was clear to neutralize the Secretary General of Palestinian Islamic Jihad to profoundly disrupt the organization’s operations and if possible stemming the peace process.
But eliminating a target like Shikaki isn’t like sending a drone or bombing a building.
He was in Damascus, protected by the Syrian regime, traveling with false documentation, Dr.
Ibraim Ali Shawesh, and was too cautious to fall into obvious traps.
The Mossad needed to wait for the right moment.
That window of opportunity where security was loosest, where he was vulnerable, where the operation could be executed and the team could disappear without a trace.
And that window appeared when Israeli intelligence discovered that Shakake was planning a trip from Libya back to Syria with a stopover in Malta.
Malta was the perfect setting, and that’s no exaggeration.
In the 1990s, Malta was a small country with a population of less than 400,000, relatively lowprofile security, a high flow of tourists and international travelers passing through its ports and airports, and a strategic geographic position in the middle of the Mediterranean that made it a natural stopover for those coming from North
Africa to the Middle East.
For the MSAD, it was gold.
You could set up surveillance without attracting attention.
You could mingle with tourists.
You could rent vehicles and properties without arousing suspicion.
And most importantly, you could plan a sea or air escape route with multiple exit options.
Of course, there was enormous diplomatic risk because Malta was a neutral country, a member of the European Union, and executing someone there would be a clear violation of sovereignty.
But Israel had done similar things before and knew that in the end the diplomatic fuss would die down while Shakakei would be dead forever.
The Mossad team began tracking his movements between Damascus, Libya, and Malta, mapping his schedules, routines, and points of vulnerability.
The logistics of such an operation are fascinating.
And here it’s worth making clear that we’re talking about a historical account, not an instruction manual.
You need a small cell, usually between four and eight agents, each with a specific role.
Surveillance, execution, cover, exfiltration.
Encrypted communication was essential because any leak could compromise everything.
The choice of a motorcycle as a means of approach and escape was not random.
Motorcycles are fast, agile in traffic, difficult to block, and allow you to get close to the target, execute, and disappear in a matter of seconds.
Furthermore, there are reports that the weapon used had a device to retain spent shells, avoiding leaving ballistic evidence at the scene.
This kind of detail demonstrates the level of sophistication The team rented vehicles, possibly had a local base to store equipment and prepare documentation, and already had exfiltration routes planned, likely involving a sea exit onto a boat in international waters or a commercial flight under false identities.
All of this was being put together as Shakakei walked calmly through the streets of Sama, unaware that he was being watched at every step and that the clock was already counting down the last minutes of his life.
The execution October 26th, 1995.
SMA, Malta.
Late afternoon, the sun is still high.
Tourists stroll along the proomenade.
The sound of the Mediterranean lapping against the rocks creates that tranquil seaside town atmosphere and then in a matter of seconds everything changes.
Fati Shaki leaves the diplomat hotel or a nearby shop accounts vary slightly about the exact moment walking normally down the street probably feeling safe because he’s in neutral territory away from direct conflict zones.
He doesn’t notice two motorcyclists approaching silently from behind.
They don’t accelerate abruptly.
They don’t attract attention.
It’s a calculated, professional approach, as if they were just passing by.
And then at point blank range, they fire multiple shots directly at Shikaki’s head.
According to some versions, the weapon had a sound suppressor, which explains why no one around reacted immediately.
There wasn’t that loud bang that makes everyone run or scream.
Shakake falls to the ground.
The pair accelerate and disappear into the narrow streets of SMA before any authorities can react.
The execution has all the hallmarks of a Mossad operation.
And when I say operational signature, I’m referring to a recognizable pattern the Israeli intelligence agency has used for decades.
a quick attack, a very low sound signature, a short weapon, probably a 22 caliber pistol or similar common in this type of operation because it’s lethal at close range but discreet.
A motorcycle approach allowing for an immediate escape and a technical detail few notice.
Some versions mention that the weapon had a device to retain spent cartridges, preventing them from falling to the ground and providing ballistic evidence to the Maltese police.
Furthermore, the planning was done to avoid collateral damage.
No civilians were injured, no shots missed, no unnecessary chaos.
This is no accident.
Its military-grade training combined with the operational coolness that comes only from years of experience in covert missions.
The Mossad wasn’t there to make a public statement.
It was there to solve a problem and it solved it.
Now consider this.
Shakake was traveling under a false identity, meaning he knew he was at risk and took precautions.
Yet, Israeli intelligence managed to track him, identify his stopover in Malta, assemble an operational team, execute the plan, and disappear without leaving virtually any immediate trace.
This requires not only technical expertise, but a network of informants, electronic surveillance, and perhaps even infiltration into Shaki’s inner circle to determine exactly when and where he would be vulnerable.
And the choice of
Malta again was not random.
Far from Damascus, far from Syrian protection, far from Hezbollah, far from Iran, he was completely alone.
just another tourist in transit without the layers of security he would have in territory controlled by allies.
What happened that sunny afternoon wasn’t luck.
It was the culmination of months of intelligence, meticulous planning, and impeccable execution.
And when Shakake’s body was found lying in the street, the world immediately began to react.
And the reactions were as intense as the operation itself.
Immediate reactions.
News of Fati Shakakei’s death spread like wildfire.
And reactions were as polarized as you might imagine among allies and followers of Palestinian Islamic Jihad.
There was immediate mourning, but not a silent, resigned mourning.
It was a morning filled with fury, promises of revenge and the exaltation of martyrdom.
Shakakei was instantly elevated to the status of martyr.
a hero of the Islamic resistance who gave his life for the Palestinian cause and leaders of the PI, Hamas, Hezbollah, and even Iranian authorities issued statements calling for the continuation of the armed struggle and vowing that his death would not be in vain.
In Gaza, thousands took to the streets in protests.
Posters bearing Shakake’s face were held aloft, and the message was clear.
They can kill our leaders, but they cannot kill the resistance.
This reaction wasn’t just emotional.
It was strategic because turning Shikaki into a martyr helped the organization recruit new members, justify new attacks, and keep the flame of radicalism burning.
His death, ironically, ended up giving the PIJ a powerful symbol that would be used for decades.
Meanwhile, public opinion in Malta and the international community was in utter shock.
Malta was not a place accustomed to this kind of violence.
It was a small, peaceful, touristy country.
And suddenly, it became the scene of a political execution in broad daylight.
The international press rushed to cover the case.
Headlines in newspapers around the world speculated about who was behind it, how the operation was carried out, and what the geopolitical impact would be.
Many people were outraged by the idea that a sovereign country had its territory used for an assassination operation without any consultation or permission.
After all, this wasn’t a war zone.
It was Europe.
There were intense debates about sovereignty, about how far a nation can go to defend itself, about whether the ends justify the means.
And look, even those who understood Israel’s side, acknowledging that Shikaki was responsible for civilian deaths had difficulty accepting that the execution was carried out in this way, in this place without any due process.
The Maltese authorities, for their part, found themselves in an extremely awkward position.
They launched an immediate investigation.
After all, a homicide had occurred on Maltese territory, and it couldn’t simply be ignored.
But at the same time, they knew they were dealing with something far greater than their capacity for investigation and justice.
Malta lacked the intelligence resources to track a Mossad operation.
lacked the geopolitical clout to pressure Israel.
And deep down, many analysts believe the Maltese government knew any pressure would be merely symbolic.
The diplomatic unease was enormous.
Malta issued protest statements and demanded explanations, but there was never a formal charge or extradition requested because let’s face it, who exactly would be extradited? Israel never officially claimed responsibility.
Press sources, intelligence analysts, and former Mossad agents who spoke out years later all pointed the finger at Israel.
But officially, silence.
And this strategic silence is part of the game.
By neither confirming nor denying, Israel maintains the ambiguity that serves both as deterrence other terrorist leaders know they could be targeted and as diplomatic protection without a confession.
There is no formal accountability.
But as governments played this diplomatic chess game, a question lingered.
Was this official version really the whole truth? Disputed versions.
This is where things get really interesting because when you combine covert operations, the lack of an official confession, and multiple conflicting sources of information, you have a puzzle where each piece seems to fit differently depending on who’s putting it together.
Media convergence clearly pointed to Israel as the perpetrator of the operation.
Newspapers like the New York Times, the Guardian and Western intelligence agencies off the record all said the same thing.
It was the Mossad.
But the operational details ah then the story changes depending on the source.
Some reports mention two accurate shots to the head.
Others mention four or five shots.
Some say the shots hit the forehead.
Others say they hit the back of the neck.
Was the motorcycle used in the getaway stolen, rented through local facilitators? No one knows for sure.
Even the exact moment of the execution varies.
Some say it was as Shakake was leaving the hotel, others that he was returning from shopping.
These differences may seem small, but in terms of forensic investigation and historical reconstruction, they matter and they show how difficult it is to establish absolute truth when the only reliable witnesses are the perpetrators themselves, who obviously won’t give interviews.
The legal and ethical debate that arose from this case is one of the most intense in the modern history of international law.
On one side, you have the argument that selective targeting outside a war zone constitutes extrajudicial execution, a violation of state sovereignty, a disregard for due process, and a dangerous precedent whereby any country can order agents to kill anyone it considers an enemy on foreign territory.
Imagine if this became the norm.
Russia killing dissident in London, China eliminating activists in Taiwan, Iran executing opponents in Europe.
It would be absolute chaos.
On the other side, Israel and its defenders argue that Jaki was not an innocent civilian, but an active combatant responsible for planning and ordering terrorist attacks that killed dozens of people, including women and children.
By Israeli logic, when you’re dealing with someone who disregards the law, who operates in the shadows, who uses civilians as both shields and targets, conventional measures simply don’t work.
And therefore, preemptive elimination becomes not only justifiable, but necessary to save future lives.
It’s the classic ethical dilemma.
Do you sacrifice legal principles for pragmatic security? Or do you stand by your principles, even if it means more terrorist attacks? And there’s more.
The factual doubts don’t end there.
How exactly did the Mossad team leave Malta? Some say they fled by boat to international waters where they were picked up by an Israeli ship.
Others claim they left calmly through the airport using fake passports, mingling with tourists.
Were there local facilitators in Malta who helped with the logistics? Probably.
But who were they? Were they paid, recruited, coerced? Was the weapon left at the scene or taken away? And what about the minute-by-minute chronology? how much time passed between the shots and the police’s arrival.
These gaps exist because clandestine operations are designed precisely to leave more questions than answers, more smoke than light.
And while historians, journalists, and researchers try to fill these gaps, one thing was already becoming clear in the days following Shakake’s death.
Regardless of the versions and ethical debates, that bullet in Malta would have profound strategic consequences, both immediate and long-term.
Strategic impact.
From an immediate tactical standpoint, the operation was an absolute success for Israel.
Shakakei was dead.
Palestinian Islamic Jihad lost its charismatic and operational leader and there was a temporary disruption to the group’s activities.
Think of it this way.
When you remove the brains of an organization, especially someone who centralized decisions, maintained international contacts, and coordinated financing and operations, you create a leadership vacuum that takes weeks or months to fill.
During this period, the
PIJ became more defensive, less aggressive, preoccupied with reorganizing internally rather than planning new attacks.
Israel was able to breathe a little.
The peace process gained some room to move forward without the constant pressure of attacks.
And the message sent to other terrorist leaders was crystal clear.
No matter where you are, no matter who you’re protected by, if you’re considered a sufficient threat, we’ll come for you.
This psychological deterrence is an essential part of Israeli strategy.
It’s not just about eliminating one enemy, but about making all other enemies think twice before acting.
But here’s the problem.
The strategy of organizational decapitation has enormous limitations.
And the Shakakei case proved this crystal clear.
Within weeks, Palestinian Islamic Jihad appointed Ramadan Shalah as its new secretary general, a US-based academic with a PhD in economics, who quickly took command and resumed operations.
The organization didn’t crumble, fragment, or crumble.
On the contrary, Shakakei became a martyr.
His death was used as recruitment fuel and the PIGJ grew again in influence and operational capacity in the following years.
This exposes a harsh truth about asymmetric warfare and the fight against terrorist organizations.
They are decentralized, have replacement structures, and often the death of a leader only reinforces the narrative of resistance and sacrifice that fuels new fighters.
It’s like cutting off the head of a hydra.
Two grow in its place.
Israel eliminated Shakakei, but it did not eliminate his ideology.
It did not eliminate Iranian funding.
It did not eliminate the political and social conditions that make young Palestinians join radical groups.
The external repercussions were equally complex.
There was direct international criticism of Israel from European governments, the UN, and human rights organizations who saw the operation as a flagrant violation of international law.
Malta was diplomatically angered.
Arab countries used the case as an example of Israeli state terrorism and Palestinian militant groups gained ammunition to say, “Look how they respect nothing.
not laws, not borders, not lives.
But at the same time, many Western governments, especially the United States, remained strategically silent because deep down they also dealt with terrorist threats and understood Israel’s reasoning, even if they couldn’t publicly support it.
This game of diplomatic appearances is fascinating.
publicly you condemn, but behind the scenes you even study tactics to apply in the future.
And that’s exactly what happened in the following decades with several countries adopting policies of selective elimination of terrorist targets, always citing precedents like the Shakakei case.
The Malta operation didn’t just change Palestinian Islamic jihad.
It changed the way the entire world thinks about counterterrorism, sovereignty, and the acceptable lengths to go to neutralize a threat.
And these changes created a legacy that still provokes heated debate today.
Legacy and controversies.
The mythmaking around Fati Shakakei began the very moment his body touched the ground in Slema.
for Palestinian Islamic jihad, for Hamas, for radical Islamist movements across the Middle East.
He didn’t die.
He was martyed, elevated to the status of Shahid, a martyr of the Islamic cause against the Zionist occupation.
Giant posters bearing his face began to appear on walls in Gaza and the West Bank.
Lectures in mosques extolled his courage and devotion.
Children were named after him.
and poems and songs were composed celebrating his journey to paradise.
This iconography isn’t mere emotional propaganda.
It has a concrete strategic function.
It transforms a dead man into an immortal symbol.
And symbols are far more powerful than people because they can’t be arrested, deported, or killed again.
You can kill shakake, but you can’t kill the idea of shakake.
And that idea continues to recruit, inspire, and mobilize young people.
Decades later, Israel won the tactical battle in Malta, but lost part of the narrative war because every time someone joins the PIG, citing Shakakei as an inspiration, that 1995 operation continues to have consequences.
The medium and long-term effects are even more complex to assess.
In the years immediately following Shakake’s death, Palestinian Islamic Jihad did indeed face difficulties.
It lost some funding, suffered internal repression in Gaza, and was overshadowed by the rise of Hamas, which was larger, more organized, and had a political wing in addition to its armed wing.
But then came the turning point in the 20110s, especially after the Syrian civil war and increased Iranian support.
The PIJ regained momentum, rebuilt its operational capabilities, resumed launching rockets at Israel, and is now considered the second largest armed faction in Gaza, just behind Hamas.
In other words, the disruption caused by Shikaki’s death was temporary.
The organization adapted, regrouped, and continued to exist.
This leads us to an uncomfortable question.
Was it worth it? If the goal was to end the PIG, or at least permanently neutralize it, the honest answer is no.
But if the goal was to send a message, cause temporary damage, and force the organization to spend time and resources reorganizing rather than attacking, then perhaps yes, in a logic of containment, not total elimination.
And here we come to the fine line that defines this case to this day.
Where exactly is the line between legitimate preventive security and extrajudicial execution? Between strategic deterrence and creating martyrs who fuel the cycle of violence? Between defending your people and violating international legal principles that exist precisely to prevent chaos.
There is no easy answer.
And any intellectually honest person will admit that if you are Israeli and lost someone in an attack planned by Shakakei, you probably think Malta was justice, not crime.
If you are Palestinian and see your people under occupation, you probably see Malta as yet another example of unpunished murder by a state acting above the law.
And if you are Maltese, European, or simply someone who believes in a rules-based international order, you are deeply uncomfortable with the idea that foreign agents can execute people on your territory without consequences.
The Shakakei case remains three decades later a perfect symbol of this moral and strategic ambiguity.
A reminder that in protracted conflicts, especially those charged with religion, nationalism, and historical trauma, there are no clean solutions, only difficult choices with unpredictable consequences.
And these consequences continue to unfold to this day, which brings us back to that sunny afternoon of October 26th, 1995.
Closure.
So, we return to the question we posed at the beginning.
Did that operation in Malta truly eliminate the threat, or did it merely fuel the endless cycle of violence and revenge that has defined the Israeli Palestinian conflict for decades? The honest answer is it depends on how you measure success.
If you look through the eyes of an Israeli military strategist, the operation was flawless.
Target neutralized.
Team successfully exfiltrated.
Disruption in the enemy organization and a deterrent message sent to other terrorist leaders.
Mission accomplished.
You can close the report and file it as an operational victory.
But if you zoom in and look at the bigger picture, three decades later, Palestinian Islamic Jihad still exists, still attacks Israel, still receives Iranian funding, and Fati Shaki has become a martyr whose face appears on flags, and whose name is chanted at protests.
The organization Israel sought to permanently weaken has adapted, regrouped, and remains a strategic thorn in its side.
So what has really changed? The uncomfortable answer is a lot tactically, almost nothing structurally.
And this is where the deeper reflection on operational efficiency versus the legal, moral, and diplomatic cost of operations like this comes in.
Yes, Israel succeeded in killing Shakakei.
Yes, it caused temporary damage to the JP.
But it paid the price in terms of international criticism, diplomatic friction with Malta and other European countries, ammunition given to its enemies to fuel the Israel as a terrorist state narrative, and perhaps most importantly, it transformed a leader into a legend, a mortal man into an immortal symbol.
In long-term conflicts like the Israeli Palestinian conflict, where each side has deeply rooted narratives, traumatic collective memories, and a sense of justice utterly incompatible with the other sides, tactical victory can easily produce unpredictable and even counterproductive strategic effects.
You eliminate one enemy today and create three enemies tomorrow.
All motivated by the memory of the martyr you yourself created.
It’s like playing chess on a board where the pieces you capture return to the game in the hands of your opponent.
Ultimately, what really changed on October 26th, 1995? For Malta, it was a brutal reminder that geography doesn’t shield you from geopolitics.
You can be small, neutral, and peaceful, but if you’re in the way of a larger conflict, your territory will be used with or without your permission.
For Israel, it was another successful operation in the long tradition of the Mossad, but also another drop in the infinite ocean of a conflict that has no military solution, only temporary threat management.
For Palestinian Islamic Jihad, it was the loss of a leader and the gain of a martyr, which in the perverse mathematics of extremism can even turn out to be a gain.
And for the very idea of justice, well, that one just got even more confusing, even more relative, even more dependent on where you sit and who you call us versus them.
The Malta operation didn’t resolve anything definitively.
It merely added another chapter to the neverending book of a conflict where each side firmly believes they are on the right side of history and where the truth, if there is a single truth, remains buried somewhere among the rubble and blood.
So after everything you’ve just learned about the operation that eliminated Fati Shakakei in Malta, the question remains, what will you do with this knowledge? Because look, understanding intelligence operations, geopolitical strategy, and the ethical dilemmas behind difficult decisions isn’t just historical curiosity.
It’s a tool for you to see the world more critically, question simplistic narratives, and realize that almost nothing in real life is black and white.
The next time you hear someone talk about terrorism, national security, or international conflicts with absolute certainty about who’s right and who’s wrong, you’ll remember the Shakakei case and wonder, is it really that simple? Does eliminating an enemy really solve the problem? Or does it just create new problems disguised as solutions? This kind of critical thinking is what separates those who merely consume information from those who actually process and apply knowledge in real life.
Now tell me, do you think Israel
did the right thing by executing Shakakei in Malta, or did it cross a line that should never have been crossed? Do you believe the ends justify the means when it comes to national security? Or are there non-negotiable principles that must be respected even in the face of real threats? And most importantly, if you were in the decision maker’s shoes, whether on the Israeli, Palestinian, or Maltese side, what would you do differently? These aren’t rhetorical questions.
They’re real provocations for you to reflect on your own values.
how far you would go to protect those you love and the kind of world you want to build.
Leave your opinion in the comments.
Let’s debate respectfully and intelligently because it’s precisely this kind of conversation that makes us grow as thinkers and citizens.
And look, if you’ve made it this far, absorbed all this complex history, and are still thirsty for more knowledge about covert operations, geopolitics, strategy, and the behindthe-scenes details that the mainstream media doesn’t show, then you need to subscribe to this channel now and turn on your notification bell.
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