The Battle of Samakh: Kayed al-Obeidat and the Shattered Dream of Greater Syrian Unity

More than a century after his death, how can we understand the project pursued by Kayed al-Obeidat and his comrades in Greater Syria?

You missed the day of Samakh, girls,
Had you been there, your wrath would swirl.
Alas! A plane in the bright blue sky,
Struck Kayed as his sword flashed high.
Mid the heavens it carved its line,
And felled him mid his battle-cry. [3]

With this mournful ma’eed (مَعيد) [4], recited at his funeral, the women of Kafr Soum (كفر سوم) bid farewell to their martyred sheikh, Kayed al-Obeidat (كايد العبيدات), leader of the Kfarat nahia (locality, ناحية الكفارات) and one of the notables of the Ajloun qada’ (subdistrict, قضاء عجلون), comprising today’s governorates of Ajloun and Irbid in Jordan. At the age of fifty-two, he was killed by machine-gun fire from a British aircraft on 20 April 1920.

In the early hours of that day, al-Obeidat led an armed group that had gathered in al-Mukhaibeh (المخيبة), near the Yarmouk River [5], crossing after dividing them into five lines arranged in a triangular formation, with a central line and two parallel bases, each assigned a specific task [6]. Their targets were the British military base, the railway station, and the Zionist settlement in the Samakh (سمخ) area, on the southern shore of Lake Tabariyya (طبريّا, Tiberias).

By prior coordination, the group was to meet with forces from Palestine led by Abdullah al-Fahoum (عبد الله الفاهوم) and Mahmoud Shteiwi (محمود اشتيوي) [7], thereby closing the jaws of a pincer on the enemy. An Arab officer in the British encampment, First Lieutenant Muhammad al-Hindi (محمد الهندي), had assured them that no fire would be opened upon their arrival and that they could seize the stored arms and munitions without firing a shot [8].

However, events did not unfold as planned. As the groups approached the British base, Indian soldiers serving with the British army opened fire, soon reinforced by additional troops, cavalry, and air cover from nearby Tabariyya [9]. In the ensuing clash, the first two casualties among the attacking force fell: Fandi al-Mufleh al-Obeidat (فندي المفلح العبيدات) and Fandi al-Qaftan al-Obeidat (فندي القفطان العبيدات) [10].

Facing an unexpected imbalance of power, al-Obeidat ordered a withdrawal. During the retreat, he realised that one of the subgroups — led by his son Turki (تركي) and including the most prominent warrior of the force, Abd al-Rahman al-Abwini (عبد الرحمن العبويني), nicknamed al-Aqra’ (الأقرع, “the Baldhead”) — was missing. Fearing that British reinforcements might encircle and destroy this group, al-Obeidat turned back to retrieve them. As he did so, a British aircraft spotted him and sprayed him with machine-gun fire, killing him instantly [11].

That night, a group from Dar’a (درعا) managed to re-enter the area and recover the bodies of the three fallen men [12]. They were buried in Kafr Soum the following day alongside a fourth casualty, Sultan al-Obeidat, who had been gravely wounded, evacuated to Saham (سحم), and died upon arrival [13].

The funeral drew leaders, sheikhs, and delegations representing Ajloun, Hauran (حوران), and the Joulan (الجولان, Golan) [14]. Their assembly reflected both the scale of the tragedy and the gravity of the moment, but it also marked the close of a historical era—one that is scarcely remembered today, at least not in the form it once took.

Before “Transjordan”: Ajloun, Hauran, and the Attempt at a Unified State in Greater Syria

Kayed al-Obeidat is often described as “the first Jordanian martyr on Palestinian soil [15]”. This characterisation is inaccurate on three counts: first, because the two Fandis preceded him in death; second, because it diminishes the scope of what he represented at the time; and third, because it imposes a post-colonial national identity that did not yet exist. The Emirate of Transjordan — precursor to the modern Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan — was founded only in 1921 by Winston Churchill, then the British Colonial Secretary, following a meeting with Emir Abduallah in Jerusalem [16], a year after al-Obeidat’s death.

In the background of these events lay several intertwined and now largely forgotten socio-political and geographical contexts. The first and most significant was the Arab East Government (حكومة الشرق العربيّة), later the Arab Kingdom of Syria, a short-lived proto-state headed by Prince (later King) Faisal in “internal” Syria, extending from Aleppo in the north to Ma’an (معان) in the south. “Internal” here excludes the coastal regions, which were directly occupied by the French and British following the end of the First World War, as roughly delineated in the secret Sykes–Picot Agreement of 1916.

The Sykes–Picot Agreement, concluded before the end of the war, pre-emptively divided the “inheritance” of the collapsing Ottoman Empire. It granted France direct or indirect control over what became the Syrian coastal areas and Lebanon, with a zone of influence extending inland, while Britain gained control of key ports in what would become Palestine and influence stretching through future Jordan into Iraq.

With the colonial powers not yet fully occupying the “interior” regions, a local proto-state emerged between late 1918 and July 1920, embodying what remained of the dream of a unified Arab political entity— the unfulfilled promises made by Britain to the Arabs who had risen against Ottoman rule. Those promises were set out in the McMahon–Hussein Correspondence (1915–1916), a series of ten letters exchanged between Hussein bin Ali, the Sharif of Mecca, and Henry McMahon, the British High Commissioner in Egypt [17].

The second context was that of Hauran — a fertile plateau corresponding roughly to the Yarmouk River Basin — which historically formed an integrated socio-economic region later fragmented among four postcolonial states. Kayed al-Obeidat was a key figure within this locality and its political-social network, which predated the war and became interlinked with the broader Arab national project.

Prominent figures in this network included Ali Khalqi al-Sharairi (علي خلقي الشرايري, 1878 - 1960) of Irbid, commander of military operations in the Hauran and Joulan regions [18], leading figures of the Joulan, in areas now divided among southwestern Syria, southern Lebanon, and northern Palestine.

This Hauranian belonging is reflected in the work of the region’s most prominent poet, al-Dougarani (الشاعر الدوقراني, c.1830 – 1926) [19], from the village of Dougara, now part of Jordan. Al-Dougarani, who was present at Samakh and immortalised the event in his poetry, provides a rare eyewitness account on the raid [20]. In his poems, Hauran appears as his blad (بلاد), that is to say his homeland or country [21], and he often invokes the sheikhs of its various localities as parts of one unified whole. He writes in 1922:

Hauran’s like a noble, faithful bride, A garden kept with honour and pride, Its sheikhs stand guard with sword in hand." [22]

In two separate episodes, al-Dougarani appeals in poetry to Emir Mahmoud al-Faour and his successor — both based in the western Joulan, in what is now part of Lebanon — for a horse, and his request is fulfilled each time. These appeals illustrate the sense of organic unity that once characterised the region [23].

The third context was that of the Ajloun qada’, characterised by a network of continuous relationships — social, certainly, but also deeply political — among the leading sheikhs of the area: Suleiman al-Rusan (سليمان الروسان), sheikh of the al-Saru locality; Kayed al-Obeidat, sheikh of the Kfarat locality; Klaib al-Shraideh (كليب الشريدة), sheikh of the al-Kura locality; Naji al-Azzam (ناجي العزّام), sheikh of the al-Wastiya locality; and Emir Rashid al-Khuza’i (راشد الخزاعي), the undisputed leader of Jabal Ajloun [24].

This group also maintained close contact with local notables and political figures in Irbid and al-Ramtha, forming an interconnected web of influence across the region. Together, this community of leaders and localities was bound by strong ties to the two principal political–military figures of the area — Ali al-Sharairi and Ahmad Mreywed — thereby linking the second and third contexts to the first within a single, cohesive regional framework.

Timeline of the Political Development of the Sheikh of the Kfarat Locality: From Kafr Soum to San Remo

The three contexts outlined above provide the necessary background for understanding the “raid” led by Kayed al-Obeidat on 20 April 1920 targetting the Samakh region on the southern end of Lake Tabariyya, heading a force composed mainly of men from his locality, the Kfarat, and his clan, the Obeidat, with additional fighters from surrounding villages in the Ajloun subdistrict [25].

To understand the meanings and outcomes of these events, it is helpful to establish a chronological framework before delving into analysis.

• 1868: Kayed al-Obeidat was born in Kafr Soum. His father, Muflih, was the leader of the Obeidat clan, and his mother, Aisha al-Dawoud, was from the nearby village of Hartha (حرثا) [26]. He learned to read and write under the tutelage of Sheikh Abdullah al-Omari [27]. He later became the sheikh of his clan following the death of his elder brother Muhammad, who had succeeded their father as leader [28]. All of this unfolded under the Ottoman Empire, which recognised his authority [29].

• 1910–1911: Al-Obeidat’s political awareness deepened through contact with members of the Literary Forum Association (جمعية المنتدى الأدبي), the Ottoman Administrative Decentralisation Party (حزب اللامركزيّة الإداريّة العثماني), the Qahtaniyya Association (الجمعية القحطانيّة), and the Young Arab Association (الجمعية العربية الفتاة). [30]. Across Greater Syria and the Hijaz, nationalist sentiment and resentment of Ottoman rule were intensifying, particularly under Jamal Pasha, known as al-Saffah (السفّاح, “the Butcher”), who ordered the execution of numerous Arab nationalists in Damascus and Beirut in 1916. This discontent manifested in two ideological directions: one calling for full independence from Ottoman rule, the other for broad local autonomy within a decentralised Ottoman system.

• 1912: A turning point in al-Obeidat’s life occurred when he met Ahmad Mreywed in the latter’s Joulani town of Jabata al-Khashab (جباتا الخشب), now in southwestern Syria’s Quneitra District (القنيطرة). The meeting was convened under the pretext of offering condolences for the death of Mreywed’s mother, with al-Obeidat receiving an invitation to pay his condolences—an unusual invitation, suggesting deliberate intent. There, al-Obeidat met several figures who would later attempt to shape the region’s political destiny, including Emir Mahmoud al-Faour, Sultan al-Atrash (سلطان الأطرش), Nabih al-Azmeh (نبيه العظمة), and Adel Arslan (عادل أرسلان). During a private meeting attended by Mreywed and al-Azmeh, an agreement was reached that the Kfarat region would serve as a refuge for political dissidents pursued by Ottoman authorities [31]. This pact was tested in 1915, when Mreywed smuggled two fugitives from Jamal Pasha’s persecution — Jalal al-Bukhari (جلال البخاري) and Izz al-Din al-Tanukhi (عز الدين التنوخي) — to Kafr Soum, where al-Obeidat hosted them before they continued southward to Zarqa, Muwaqqar, and finally al-Jawf in northern Hijaz, beyond the Pasha’s reach [32].

• 1917: The second turning point in al-Obeidat’s political life was the Ajloun meeting convened to oppose the Balfour Declaration — a letter by British Foreign Secretary Arthur Balfour pledging British support for a national home for the European Zionists in Palestine. The meeting was attended by regional leaders including Suleiman al-Rousan, Rashid al-Khuza’i, Naji al-Azzam, Klaib al-Shraideh, Abdul Rahman al-Rsheidat (عبد الرحمن ارشيدات) of Irbid, and Arif al-Anbatawi (عارف العنبتاوي) of Nablus, among others. The attendees elected al-Obeidat as chair and charged him with corresponding with other tribal leaders across the region to mobilise opposition to the declaration [33]. His election reflected his established close relationships with Ahmad Mreywed and Mahmoud al-Faour, key figures in the broader nationalist network.

• October 1918: The Arab Army of the Great Arab Revolt, allied with the Entente powers, entered Damascus, followed days later by Emir Faisal. The first Arab government was established to administer the interior regions of Syria, from Aleppo to Ma’an, under Ali Rida al-Rikabi [34].

• Late 1919: As it became clear that France and Britain intended to partition the region and dismantle the project of a unified Syrian state, Ali al-Sharairi launched armed resistance from northern Jordan against the French and British, coordinating with Mahmoud al-Faour, Ahmad Mreywed, and Shukri al-Quwwatli (شكري القوّتلي). Al-Sharairi wrote to the leaders of nearby localities, including al-Obeidat, urging support for his efforts [35]. Al-Obeidat responded by forming an armed contingent of twenty men from villages under his authority to participate in the “Joulan Revolution” led by al-Sharairi [36]. This group would later form the nucleus of the force that undertook the Samakh operation.

• March 6, 1920: Following several regional conferences across Bilad al-Sham, the All-Syrian Congress convened in Damascus, with representatives from all parts of Greater Syria [37].

• March 8, 1920: The Congress proclaimed an independent Arab state encompassing Greater Syria, drafted a constitution, and appointed Faisal as its constitutional monarch [38]. This entity has been described as “the first Arab liberal democratic state-in-the-making [39].” On the same day, Kayed al-Obeidat travelled to Damascus to congratulate King Faisal [40]. None of the major powers — Britain, France, or the United States — recognised this state. Its proclamation came shortly before the San Remo Conference, at which the victors of the First World War would decide the region’s fate.

• Early March–Early April 1920: Al-Obeidat led a series of meetings with the sheikhs of the Ajloun subdistrict to prepare for armed action against the British forces and the emerging Zionist settlements near Tabariyya and northern Jaleel [41].

• 6 April 1920: A decisive meeting was held in the town of Qom, stronghold of Naji al-Azzam, attended by sheikhs and notables from Ajloun and leaders from Palestine [42]. The participants endorsed al-Obeidat’s proposal for coordinated armed operations. Their resolutions included:

a) assuming collective responsibility for an attack on the British base and Zionist settlements in the Samakh region;

b) scheduling the operation for 8:00 a.m. on 20 April 1920;

c) appointing Sheikh Kayed al-Obeidat as overall commander, with all fighters under his orders;

d) designating al-Mukhaibeh as the assembly point for the forces before their advance;

e) seeking military advice from experienced officers;

f) informing Ali al-Sharairi of the plan; and

g) forming a team for the evacuation of the dead and wounded [43].

• 19 April 1920: The San Remo Conference opened, where Britain and France would formalise their division of the Arab Levant.

• 20 April 1920: The Samakh raid, led by Kayed al-Obeidat, was launched but failed under overwhelming British counter offensive and aerial attack. The four martyrs — al-Obeidat himself, the two Fandis, and Sultan al-Obeidat — fell that day. The operation coincided with the second day of the San Remo Conference, whose resolutions were issued eight days later.

• 26 April 1920: The conference concluded with the partition of Greater Syria between the French and British.

• 14 July 1920: General Henri Gouraud, the French High Commissioner in the Levant, sent an ultimatum to King Faisal, demanding his acceptance of the French rule over Syria and instructing him not to resist French military advance [44].

• 21 July 1920: French forces began their march on Damascus [45].

• 24 July 1920:The Battle of Maysalun took place on the outskirts of Damascus between advancing French troops and the defending All-Syrian army led by Yousef al-Azmeh, the Kingdom’s Minister of Defence. The Syrian forces were crushed, and al-Azmeh was killed — the first and last Arab defence minister to die in battle.

• 25 July 1920: Damascus fell, marking the end of the Arab Kingdom of Syria.

A Single Raid or the Beginning of Guerrilla Warfare? Dividing Fronts between Kayed al-Obeidat, Ahmad Mreywed, and Ali al-Sharairi

The timeline and the dense web of relationships outlined above place al-Obeidat’s raid within a broader strategic framework, rather than as a spontaneous act of heroism. They reveal an emerging division of revolutionary effort along the fault lines between the rival colonial powers in the region.

While the All-Syrian Istiqlali (Independence) movement waged armed resistance against the French along the Joulan–Quneitra front, led by al-Sharairi and Mreywed, there arose a parallel need to confront the British forces and Zionist settlers along the Bisan–Samakh–Tabariyya axis.
This division of duties is echoed in al-Obeidat’s address at the Qom meeting, where he declared:

Our brothers in Damascus are suffering under French policies... We have tasks here no less than theirs, and these must complement each other. We will confront the British and the Zionists, while they face the French. Then the allies will realise that we are children of one nation. We will not allow our freedom to be confiscated, and Europe must know that we seek complete independence, for which we will sacrifice everything [46].”

These two parallel axes of engagement were strategically conceived: geographically close enough to enable mutual support, yet targeting three interlinked colonial actors — the French, British, and Zionists — whose interests often conflicted. Indeed, competition among the colonial powers persisted even after their formal departure from the region. [47].

The available historical evidence confirms coordination between the two sectors. The Qom meeting explicitly mandated informing al-Sharairi of the Samakh operation, and he, in turn, encouraged al-Obeidat to proceed swiftly “to support King Faisal’s position in the negotiations of the peace conference (the San Remo Conference) [48].”

This demonstrates that al-Obeidat and his allies possessed a clear political understanding of, and a counter-plan to, the Anglo-French partition. They understood the colonial powers’ intentions to divide the region despite prior British promises to the Arabs. They also recognised armed action as a direct instrument of political leverage — to strengthen the fragile Syrian Kingdom, to show Britain that occupation would not go unchallenged, and to signal to Zionist settlements that they were within the field of resistance.

It is therefore plausible to interpret Kayed al-Obeidat’s long-term aim at Samakh as the initiation of a sustained guerrilla campaign against British bases and Zionist colonies. Evidence for this includes:

1. Continuous coordination with Ali al-Sharairi and Ahmad Mreywed, leaders of the anti-French resistance.

2. The earlier formation of a Kfarat force that had already participated in the Joulan Revolution, preserving its structure for future operations.

3. The scope and seriousness of the Qom meeting, which gathered numerous leaders — unlikely to have convened solely to endorse a single raid.

4. Al-Obeidat’s consultation with experienced officers to train his men.

5. The careful military division of the attacking force and the pre-organisation of an evacuation unit for casualties.

6. His outreach to sympathetic Arab officers within the British army, convincing them to allow his men to enter the British Samakh base unopposed to seize its weapons [49] These arms would have supplied future operations and served as the foundation for a protracted campaign against British and Zionist positions — analogous to the guerrilla warfare that al-Sharairi, Mreywed, and their Istiqlali comrades conducted against the French in northern Jordan between 1920 and 1924.

That campaign ultimately ended when Emir Abdullah expelled them from the Emirate of Transjordan following French complaints to the British [50], who had tolerated the operations as a discreet form of attrition against their rival colonial power.

A Spontaneous Martyrdom Operation, or a Calculated Plan for Future Continuity?

In his book about Kayed al-Obeidat, historian Mahmoud Obeidat states that the Samakh operation was doomed to defeat from the outset — a form of militant suicide: “He [Kayed al-Obeidat] had to die as he decided, because challenging [an army] that had won the First World War was tantamount to suicide… a suicide with a strong will, pride, and dignity [51].” In this, he is somewhat aligned with Sir Alec Kirkbride’s view of the incident. Kirkbride, then an officer in the British army stationed in Palestine and later the British Resident in Jordan, happened to be in the region and took part in repelling the attack. He described the raid as “one of the most insane Arab raids [52],” and wrote that “the attackers were seeking defeat themselves when they directed their attack at the army camps [53].” However, my reading of this operation situates it far from notions of “insanity,” self-defeat, or gratuitous self-sacrifice.

The raid was the first baptism of fire for the force under the command of Kayed al-Obeidat following the Qom meeting. It formed part of a coordinated military field division with Ali al-Sharairi and Ahmad Mreywed, serving as a political support operation for the nascent Arab Syrian state within the context of the San Remo Conference, and as a means of exerting pressure on the colonial powers gathered there to make potential concessions to King Faisal.

Considering several overlooked factors, and the vast disparity in capabilities between the attacking group and the British army, the raid can be regarded as relatively successful. The first factor was the failure of the surrounding regions to provide significant reinforcements. Historian Suleiman al-Musa alludes to this: “In the end, only the group led by Sheikh Kayed crossed the Yarmouk River westward, and most of its members were from his Obeidat tribe [54].” Mahmoud Obeidat partially disagreed, noting: “Most of those who came from their regions crossed the Yarmouk River, but the majority, approximately 85%, were from the Obeidat tribe [55].”

By simple calculation, more than 300 men, including horsemen and foot soldiers, gathered in front of the Obeidat madafa (community meeting hall) in Kafr Soum at dawn, according to Kayed’s son Turki [56], who led one of the five groups. Based on Mahmoud Obeidat’s estimates, the total number of attackers was approximately 350 — 300 from the Obeidat and only fifty from other parts and clans of Ajloun. This reflected a significant shortfall for the commander, who had expected comparable contributions from each area, potentially mobilising 1,200 men — a force that could have significantly altered the outcome.

The second overlooked factor was the betrayal suffered by Kayed al-Obeidat at the hands of the Arab officer commanding the British camp, First Lieutenant Muhammad al-Hindi, who had promised to surrender the Tal al-Tha‘alib (تل الثعالب) position and its weapons without a fight [57]. Al-Obeidat’s advancing force was thus immediately exposed to unexpected fire and engaged with the base, which was swiftly reinforced by air support.

Given the qualitative disparity in equipment, training, and armament between the Obeidat group and the British army, led by two high-ranking officers: Alec Kirkbride and Fitzroy Somerset [58], whose presence seemingly accelerated the deployment of additional reinforcements [59], and considering the limited losses sustained by the attackers (only four were killed), alongside their ability to confuse and disorient the enemy — including an officer shot through the chest and a pilot seriously wounded and forced to land [60] — as well as their successful withdrawal from the battlefield and later night-time retrieval of the bodies, the operation can be deemed relatively successful. The decisive factor was the death of its leader during the initial assault, which curtailed any further possibilities.

Al-Obeidat in Tabariyya: Natural Movement within the Natural Habitat

The actions and movements of Kayed al-Obeidat did not entail or require a shift from one country to another, from “Jordan” to “Palestine”. He was moving naturally within his vital, everyday habitat — the geographical and social sphere within which he had always existed. This habitat encompassed the Ajloun area, Hauran, and its extensions in the Joulan, Tabariyya, and Bisan.

In the early Islamic period, Bilad al-Sham was divided into five military-administrative units — not to be understood as “borders” in the modern sense — which lasted for nearly five centuries until the Frankish invasions of 1095 AD. These units were called ajnad (sing. jund, meaning “soldiers”). Jund Filastin (Palestine) and Jund al-Urdun (Jordan) were transverse entities, each encompassing parts of present-day Jordan and Palestine, while Jund al-Urdun also included southern areas of modern Syria and Lebanon [61], such as Dar‘a, the Joulan, Bisan, Tabariyya, and Samakh, extending to Sur (صور, Tyre). The capital of Jund al-Urdun was Tabariyya [62], the region targeted by Kayed al-Obeidat’s forces.

Tabariyya and its environs were contiguous with the Kfarat (al-Obeidat’s locality) and al-Saru (al-Rousan’s locality). Samakh, located on the southernmost shore of Lake Tabariyya, lies 20 kilometres from Kafr Soum and four kilometres from the Yarmouk River. Fadi Masamreh has written extensively on the inhabitants of the Yarmouk River basin as an integrated community that moved regularly from one side to the other, with the Joulan — due to its higher rainfall — serving as the region’s refuge during dry seasons [63].

The establishment of Degania in 1911, the first Zionist kvutsah settlement [64], strategically located where the lower Jordan River emerges from Lake Tabariyya, right next to Samakh — which expanded into Degania B in 1920 — combined with the presence of a British base and airstrip in the area [65] posed a direct threat to the Kfarat locality, and the regions of Ajloun, and Hauran.

This understanding is reflected in the Um Qais meeting of 2 September 1920, which brought together the leaders of Ajloun and Irbid under Ali al-Sharairi [66]. The letter they produced, five months after the Samakh attack, addressed questions and requests to the British Resident in the region, Major Somerset — the same officer who had participated in the Battle of Samakh and later oversaw the Ajloun subdistrict. The letter petitioned for a British mandate over all of Syria to ensure its unity [67]. Pending this, the notables requested an Arab government under the British mandate, encompassing the districts of Salt, Karak, Ajloun, and Jerash (now in Jordan), the districts of Hauran and Quneitra (now in Syria), and the districts of Marj‘ayoun and Sur (now in Lebanon and Palestine) [68]. This area roughly corresponded to Jund al-Urdun of the early Islamic era, reflecting an enduring socio-economic and even ecological continuity based on the Yarmouk and upper Jordan River basins, including Lake Tabariyya.

A strategic shift followed the San Remo Conference and the French occupation of Damascus. The Istiqlalis, now expelled from the capital of their yet-to-be-born state and finding refuge in Transjordan, viewed the British as potential allies and actively participated in the first governments of Emir Abdallah under the British mandate, while the British leveraged them against the French [69]. This arrangement continued until 1924, when, under French pressure, the Istiqlalis were expelled from Transjordan, and their governmental positions were refilled with Arab bureaucrats delegated from Mandatory Palestine [70].

Rethinking Postcolonial Polities and Their “Imagined” Identities

Like Muhammad Hamad al-Hunaiti [71], Kayed al-Obeidat receives limited recognition in official Jordanian and Palestinian circles. Both leaders hailed from the east bank of the River Jordan and were killed in action on its west bank, thus falling outside the official narratives of postcolonial identities defined and enforced by the borders that emerged thereafter. Their regional movement from one “region” to another were not acts of defiance but expressions of ordinary, lived experience within their own geographical habitat. They challenge the territorial exclusivity sought by contemporary ruling groups and highlight the tension between local and postcolonial identities, shaped by imposed political boundaries.

Both men operated in colonised areas now internationally recognised as part of Israel. Both the Palestinian Authority and Jordan consider these territories Israeli under the Oslo Accords and the Wadi Araba Peace Treaty. Their armed struggles would today be categorised as “terrorism.” Yet, uniquely, al-Obeidat represents the pre-colonial, pre-national past of the region — its socio-political relationships, ambitions, and aspirations to build an independent, all-Syrian state — ambitions later undermined by subservience to colonial and Zionist projects.

Kayed al-Obeidat cannot be summarised merely as “the first Jordanian martyr on the land of Palestine.” He was preceded in martyrdom by his brother Fandi and a relative bearing the same name — a detail that pales beside the broader reality: the tragic outcome of an ambitious project rooted in a political vision of a unified Greater Syria, attempted by a network of Haurani, Ajlouni, and Joulani leaderships that had emerged from the late Ottoman period. All were ultimately sacrificed to the force and arrogance of British and French colonialism, the Zionist movement, and the complicity of local ruling groups, shaping the geopolitical landscape we witness today.

Kayed al-Obeidat’s death at Samakh on 20 April 1920 — coinciding almost exactly with the San Remo Conference — symbolically marked the collapse of the final effort to preserve a unified Bilad al-Sham under Arab rule. Far from an isolated episode of local resistance, the Battle of Samakh represented a coherent extension of the all-Syrian project: an attempt to preserve independence through coordinated, cross-border struggle.

Al-Obeidat’s project, like those of his contemporaries Ali al-Sharairi, Ahmad Mreywed, and Mahmoud al-Faour, was rooted in the belief that Syria, Palestine, Jordan, and Lebanon formed one indivisible political and social space — a conviction erased only by the borders drawn in European conference rooms. His final act of defiance thus stands not merely as a local tragedy, but as one of the last expressions of a broader, now-forgotten vision of unity.