The Media Line: Hamas, Muslim Brotherhood Networks’ Ties Fractured as Millions of Dollars Earmarked for Gaza Missing 

Hamas, Muslim Brotherhood Networks’ Ties Fractured as Millions of Dollars Earmarked for Gaza Missing 

Reham Owda, an Istanbul-based Palestinian political analyst, says the scandals “erode public trust in genuine charitable work and in the civil society groups that actually deliver relief” 

By Waseem Abu Mahadi/The Media Line

A sprawling fundraising scandal is convulsing Islamist circles from Istanbul to Amman after allegations that nearly $500 million collected in the name of Gaza never reached the Strip. The money ended up under the control of Muslim Brotherhood-linked networks operating across Turkey and Jordan, triggering an unusually public rupture with Hamas. 

Hamas abruptly distanced itself from a cluster of longstanding pro-Gaza charities, accusing them of acting without authorization, exploiting outdated endorsements, and channeling donations through opaque structures that bypassed the movement’s oversight. The announcement sent shockwaves through the wider Islamist ecosystem, where fundraising for Gaza has long served as both a political project and a moral rallying cry. 

“During the war months, people in Gaza developed a deeply negative view of anyone raising money in their name,” Mansour Abo Kareem, a Gaza-based political researcher, told The Media Line. “They have seen cases of sudden, extreme wealth built on the suffering of Gaza’s residents.” 

The scandal began when a young Palestinian activist posted online allegations that a prominent Istanbul-based charity had commandeered donations meant for Gaza. Within hours, the claims triggered a regional firestorm. Supporters of the Muslim Brotherhood—an international Islamist movement banned in Egypt but influential across the Middle East—defended the charity. Critics amplified suspicions of financial misconduct, and social media platforms became battlegrounds for conflicting narratives. 

The dispute escalated rapidly. Screenshots, leaked messages, and competing denunciations spread across Arabic and Turkish digital spaces. When prominent Islamist figures began weighing in behind the scenes, the controversy broke out of activist circles and entered mainstream political debate. 

In January 2024, Hamas issued a statement disavowing three organizations: Waqf Al Umma, Minbar al-Aqsa, and Kulna Maryam, along with seven of their administrators: Saeed Abu al-Abd, Fouad al-Zubaidi, Samir Said, Abdullah Samir, Khaldoun Hijazi, Ahmed al-Omari, and Zaid al-Ais. 

Hamas asserted that these institutions had become unregulated, seized by individuals exploiting outdated endorsements to collect donations in a manner detrimental to the people of Gaza and Jerusalem. 

Waqf Al Umma, founded in Istanbul in 2013, presents itself as a charitable endowment dedicated to supporting Jerusalem, Gaza, and vulnerable Palestinian communities. The organization operates as a waqf, an Islamic charitable trust. Across the Muslim world, home to nearly 2 billion people, tens of thousands of waqfs provide essential social services, from maintaining mosques and burial grounds to running hospitals and schools. The vast majority operate legitimately under government oversight. 

But in Turkey, the organization has long operated in a legal gray zone. Although Turkish waqf institutions are formally regulated, in practice they often operate with broad administrative latitude, which critics say can create opportunities for abuse.  

Over the past decade, Waqf Al Umma has built a large public profile through mass fundraising campaigns, social media appeals, and conferences, positioning it as a major gateway for global donations to the Palestinian cause. It cultivated religious legitimacy and donor confidence by promoting projects in education, welfare, and heritage preservation. Waqf Al Umma’s campaigns regularly invoked the sanctity of Jerusalem and the urgency of relief for Gaza, helping it attract millions of dollars in contributions from across the Muslim world. That reputation now sits at the center of the controversy. 

Operating from Istanbul, long a hub for exiled Brotherhood figures following the movement’s crackdown in Egypt, Waqf Al Umma built a multimedia fundraising machine mixing religious messaging, livestreamed appeals, emotional footage from Gaza, and an extensive influencer network.  

Over the past decade, the group launched thousands of campaigns, many framed as urgent relief efforts for Gaza or Jerusalem. It marketed its latest drives as the largest ever for the Strip since the war began, amplified by celebrity clerics and coordinated digital marketing teams. 

Regional analysts estimate that the recent campaigns processed sums reaching into the hundreds of millions of dollars. Whether the figure reached the rumored $500 million remains unverified; no audited statements have surfaced, and no regulator has confirmed the numbers. Even conservative estimates point to enormous financial flows, raising pressing questions about transparency and accountability. 

The US Treasury Department in June 2025 sanctioned Filistin Vakfi, another Turkey-based charity, accusing it of raising funds for Hamas’ military wing following the Oct. 7, 2023, attack. The Treasury said the charity’s president “orchestrated these fundraising efforts, exploiting Turkey’s position as a hub for Hamas’ clandestine financial operations.” 

The fundraising scandal surrounding groups such as Waqf Al Umma has tapped into an already deep reservoir of public frustration inside Gaza. Abo Kareem said trust in overseas fundraisers has collapsed, leading to widespread distrust of charities, organizations, and individual fundraisers. Past experiences, when donations collected for Palestinians never reached those in need, have only reinforced this loss of confidence, he said. 

Hamas’ statement appeared more strategic than moral, Abo Kareem said. The movement wanted to distance itself from responsibility since many of the figures involved are religious personalities or institutions connected to Hamas or the broader Islamist current, he said. The movement sought to avoid the fallout of a scandal that could damage its image. 

The pattern has become dangerous for ordinary Palestinians, he said, adding that Gaza needs fundraising limited to official, credible bodies operating under legal oversight. Strict supervision and adherence to local regulations are the only guarantees that such abuses will not repeat. 

While Hamas and its critics traded accusations online, new testimonies from former insiders added fuel to the controversy. A Palestinian businessman who worked inside Waqf Al Umma nearly seven years ago told The Media Line that the institution’s internal practices sharply contradicted its charitable image. He spoke on condition of anonymity, citing fears of legal retaliation and damage to his business interests in Turkey. 

The institution operated under the banner of supporting Jerusalem, but the way it managed money had nothing to do with transparency, he said. The projects the waqf announced simply didn’t exist on the ground. The group raised tens of millions of dollars in the name of Jerusalem, yet a large portion of that money ended up in the personal accounts of people inside the group, he added. 

Some managed to circumvent oversight by the board of trustees and the waqf authority through investment arms and companies, he said, adding that funds were transferred to buy and sell real estate for personal gain, with commissions taken on every transaction. He explained that projects they advertised in Jerusalem were nothing more than lies, and the information posted on the waqf’s website was not accurate; it was completely opaque. 

He described deliberate money-laundering channels. The association created companies as fronts and later declared some bankrupt to hide the true flow of funds, he said. Meanwhile, transfers continued into private accounts within the institution. 

The institution routinely deflected questions about projects in Jerusalem, he explained. Whenever anyone raised questions about projects in Jerusalem, they responded with excuses about the occupation and security challenges, claiming the money went through undisclosed charities, he said. In reality, the group handled much of it internally or diverted it to personal accounts, far from any official oversight. 

Everything happened behind the curtain, he continued. The public heard emotional appeals about Jerusalem, but what was really going on inside the institution was completely different. 

For analysts, the scandal extends beyond one institution; it exposes the broader ecosystem of transnational Islamist fundraising. Reham Owda, an Istanbul-based Palestinian political analyst, told The Media Line that global sympathy and informal donation channels created ideal conditions for abuse. 

“This issue is closely tied to the wave of global public sympathy, especially in Muslim communities, for the Palestinian cause and for civilians in Gaza,” she said. “Donations are often given in good faith, whether in cash or in-kind support, without receipts or any documentation confirming the transfer.” 

That makes official oversight of these funds nearly impossible, she said. 

Informal money-transfer networks, common across the Middle East, where many people lack access to formal banking, make tracking nearly impossible, Owda explained. These networks, operating through currency-exchange offices, allow donations to move outside the formal banking system, making them even harder to track. 

Hamas’ decision to publicly withdraw its cover from the contested organizations signals more than a simple dispute over bookkeeping. It exposes growing tensions between Hamas and broader Muslim Brotherhood networks across Turkey and Jordan. For years, these groups shared ideological affinity but competed for influence, donor loyalty, and political legitimacy. 

The war in Gaza intensified these rivalries. With unprecedented global sympathy and a surge of online fundraising, controlling money flows became a source of political leverage. Several Islamist organizations outside Gaza positioned themselves as primary conduits for global solidarity, while Hamas, consumed by war and siege, struggled to regulate the donations flowing through diaspora structures. 

Hamas leaders, including Khalil al-Hayya and Khaled Mashal, who are based primarily in Doha, Qatar, but also spend time in Turkey, have maintained close ties with Turkish officials throughout the conflict. The fundraising controversy has complicated these relationships, forcing Hamas to balance its need for external political support against growing internal pressure to account for aid money. 

Hamas has formed internal committees to reclaim oversight of the disputed organizations, though its ability to influence entities based abroad remains uncertain. Waqf Al Umma continues to deny wrongdoing and has launched new campaigns despite the scandal. 

With no transparent accounting, official investigations, or independent audits, the dispute remains clouded by rumor, ideology, and political rivalry. But one reality stands clear: As long as Gaza remains a symbol, a tragedy, and a global cause, its name will continue to attract vast sums of money and equally vast opportunities for misuse. 

Until verifiable financial records surface, the controversy will linger, leaving donors unsure and Islamist networks divided. For Palestinians in Gaza, the damage runs deeper. 

“These scandals don’t just discredit the institutions involved,” Owda said. “They erode public trust in genuine charitable work and in the civil society groups that actually deliver relief. After so many controversies, people in Gaza have begun doubting any humanitarian initiative, even the honest ones. This makes it harder for NGOs to raise funds, weakens community cooperation, and ultimately harms the most vulnerable. It is also killing the spirit of volunteerism and humanitarian work in Palestinian society.”