When Western diplomats con­- sidered Palestinian president Mahmoud Abbas's announcement that he did not want to stand for re-election, they must have asked themselves the famous question attributed to Metternich about the death of a rival: "What did he mean by that?"

An easy answer is, "Not very much". It isn't hard to see why Abbas is fed up. With all of his latter years devoted to the search for a two-state solution in the Middle East, he has nothing to show for it thanks to what he sees as Israel's obduracy. Hamas has refused Egyptian terms for reconciliation with Fatah. The US pressed him into originally withdrawing a UN resolution endorsing the Goldstone report, provoking a politically life-threatening internal backlash. And Syria, which had ironically also urged him to withdraw the motion on the opposite grounds, that Goldstone criticised Hamas, then led the charge against him when he did.

The final straw came with US secretary of state Hillary Clinton's words on the settlements. That Clinton should have pressed Abbas to enter negotiations with Benjamin Netanyahu's government even though Israel had not met the demand she originally endorsed – a total settlement freeze – was especially dismaying for him.

But being fed up is not the same as walking off the job. Although elections have been fixed for 24 January, few expect them to be held then, given Hamas's refusal to sign a reconciliation agreement. And Abbas could change his mind. He could stay as chairman of the Palestinian Liberation Organisation, the body actually responsible for negotiations with Israel. And his gambit may push the US into a tougher line with Israel.

But it is possible to be too sanguine. First, the doomsday scenarios – at least as Western governments see them – cannot be ruled out. What if Abbas were shortly to decide, as one or two senior Palestinian officials have been muttering he might, to leave the presidency in the hands of the Hamas parliamentary speaker, Aziz al Dweik? Supposing Hamas called Abbas's bluff, and agreed to January elections: with Fatah divided over an alternative, or fielding a humiliated Abbas, could they capture the presidency by popular vote?

Yet Abbas's gamble is not without meaning. True, it makes it easier for Netanyahu to claim it is the Palestinians who are blocking talks. But Abbas clearly thinks negotiations are no longer worthwhile if they are no more than what his own prime minister, Salaam Fayyad, has called a "process for the sake of a process". As an architect of the Oslo accords, who in the 1990s watched Netanyahu oppose Oslo, Abbas is clearly not inclined to trust the Israeli prime minister.

Washington is said to be quietly working on negotiating parameters but meeting resistance from Israel. Used to pressure from Israel, but less so from the Palestinians, the US may be disinclined to harden its line. Of course, there are Fatah alternatives to Abbas, most enticingly the more charismatic Marwan Barghouti, who might be better placed to sell any deal. But Barghouti is in jail, and there is little sign the Netanyahu government would free him to become its "partner."

The 'terms of reference' for negotiations which Abbas spelt out on Thursday are not ones the West can easily disagree with, and Washington would do well not to dismiss them. As Israeli commentator Ben Caspit wrote this weekend: "Anybody mocking Abu Mazen today will be missing him tomorrow."