Despite the spectacle of headlines and battlefield theatrics, insurgents seldom win. History is littered with the remains of rebel movements that seized territory, dominated news cycles, and briefly terrified governments—only to collapse under overwhelming military pressure. From Colombia to Chechnya, from Mali to the Philippines, insurgents have often found themselves outgunned, outspent, and eventually outmaneuvered. Their violent challenge to authority ends in a predictable pattern: repression, regrouping, and repetition. This cyclical reality is at the heart of what might be called the insurgent’s dilemma.
At its core, this dilemma is existential. An insurgency, by definition, seeks to upend established political authority, often through force. Yet the very act of challenging a powerful state tends to provoke a massive and often brutal counter-response. Whether through airstrikes, drone campaigns, raids, or proxy militia, states usually respond with enough force to “mow the grass”—a phrase borrowed from Israeli strategy to describe periodic military action meant not to eradicate a threat entirely, but to keep it contained and manageable. For insurgents, this means starting over, again and again, under increasingly hostile conditions.
This is not merely theoretical. Two stark examples from the Middle East—Gaza and Yemen—underscore how insurgencies are struggling to assert sustainable power under the pressure of superior military force.
In Gaza, Hamas continues to function under a brutal blockade, subject to near-constant surveillance, precision airstrikes, and a form of total warfare that leaves little room for conventional resistance. Israeli military doctrine regards Gaza as a grass field: each time militants regroup or launch attacks, the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) respond with overwhelming air and artillery power, degrading infrastructure and eliminating leadership figures. The cycle is relentless. After the Hamas-led attack on October 7, 2023, Israel launched one of the most intense military campaigns in its history. Though Hamas remains defiant, its ability to govern, let alone expand influence, is constrained to a narrow strip of devastated land. Every attempt at insurgency is met with overwhelming retaliation. The grass is mowed.
Yemen provides another compelling case. The Houthis, backed in varying degrees by Iran, have shown remarkable resilience and innovation in asymmetric warfare. They’ve used ballistic missiles, weaponized drones, and information warfare to disrupt Saudi and U.S. interests in the region. However, even as they seize territory and launch attacks on Red Sea shipping or Saudi oil installations, they too are subject to airstrikes and special operations that sap their capacity to expand. The recent U.S. airstrikes in 2024 and 2025 targeting Houthi launch sites and command centers are a case in point. These retaliatory strikes neutralize capabilities in the short term but rarely address the ideological and political drivers of the conflict.
In both cases, the dilemma persists: insurgents can temporarily seize initiative or attention, but they rarely transform such moments into lasting, institutionalized power. This raises the question: if insurgency in its classic form no longer works, what’s next?
The answer may lie in the changing nature of conflict itself. In an age defined by hyperconnectivity, digital disinformation, and deep societal polarization, insurgents are increasingly shifting toward subtler, more strategic forms of influence. The most forward-looking insurgent groups now operate with a hybrid model—fusing kinetic violence with non-kinetic warfare in the realm of information, perception, and narrative manipulation.
Rather than taking and holding ground, insurgents aim to take and hold minds. They amplify grievances, distort truth, and blur the lines between civil discontent and armed struggle. In doing so, they exploit democratic vulnerabilities and political polarization. Through deepfake videos, doctored social media posts, AI-powered propaganda, and targeted campaigns, they sow discord and undermine legitimacy. The battlefield now includes Telegram channels, TikTok reels, and coordinated troll farms. In this new insurgency, a meme can be as powerful as a mortar.
Consider how the Houthis have crafted narratives of resistance and sovereignty—branding themselves as defenders of Yemen against imperial aggression, while sidestepping questions about their Iranian backing or internal repression. Or how Hamas frames Israeli attacks not merely as military actions, but as existential threats to Palestinian identity and nationhood, appealing to audiences far beyond Gaza. These groups understand the modern information environment, and they manipulate it with alarming skill.
This shift is already forcing a rethink in counterinsurgency doctrine. Traditional models—focused on “clear, hold, and build”—may no longer be sufficient in an era where perception shapes reality. Counterinsurgency today must include narrative control, digital hygiene, and proactive measures to prevent radicalization online. The lines between domestic and foreign operations are blurring, as insurgent messaging spreads virally across borders and continents.
Yet this is not to say that kinetic force has become obsolete. Indeed, both Israel and the United States continue to rely heavily on airpower to keep insurgent threats in check. Precision strikes remain an essential tool in the counterinsurgent arsenal. But these strikes rarely win wars on their own. They buy time, they reduce capacity, but they do not erase ideas.
This is the paradox of modern insurgency. Violence remains the means, but information is increasingly the end. The insurgent’s dilemma now includes a digital frontier—a realm where legitimacy, influence, and ideology are shaped, contested, and sometimes won. And for state actors, the challenge is equally daunting: How do you counter a movement that thrives not only in bunkers and tunnels, but in hashtags and livestreams?
The solution may lie in a new kind of strategic patience—one that combines traditional military strength with a long-term investment in governance, narrative, and digital resilience. Airstrikes can flatten a weapons depot, but they cannot rebuild trust in a fractured state. Drones can take out a commander, but they cannot stop a tweet from going viral. The insurgent may be mowed down, but unless the soil of discontent is addressed, the grass will grow back.
In Gaza, in Yemen, and in other flashpoints across the globe, the insurgent’s dilemma continues to evolve. But so too must our understanding of insurgency itself. It is no longer just a contest of arms—it is a contest of stories, symbols, and sustained perception. And in that arena, both insurgents and their adversaries are just beginning to learn the rules.
