In the West Bank refugee camp of Jenin, political points are traditionally made with guns and beatings. So when the actors of the Freedom Theatre decided to stage George Orwell's classic satire Animal Farm they knew that they were taking a risk.

Putting on a play in which the protagonists subvert the glorious revolution and collaborate with the enemy was dangerous enough in a part of the world that brooks little criticism of its leaders. That these same protagonists are pigs was unlikely to make things better before a Muslim audience.

Despite one arson attack, a few smashed car windows and several arrests, the young troupe are playing to a packed house.

“One of the aims of the Freedom Theatre is to challenge the monolithic thinking of the people, the fear to be different,” said Juliano Mer Khamis, its director. “To oppose the major currents, especially the Palestinian Authority where it is in power, or Hamas where it is in power.”

The play has been a hit in a culture stifled by factional infighting, where the old guard of the PLO clings to power and resists change, while the opposition is provided by Hamas, whose conservative Islamist values risk dragging the Palestinians back into the past. “We are caught between the hammer and the anvil,” said Mr Mer Khamis, the son of an anti-occupation Israeli Jewish activist who married a Palestinian Arab. He set up a youth theatre in the West Bank in the 1980s.

The police have only managed in the past year to quell the lawlessness that reigned when Jenin was the centre of armed Palestinian resistance to Israeli occupation. The refugee camp was the scene of the most destructive battle of the Israeli offensive in the area in 2002. The music centre next to the theatre was burnt by suspected Islamists last week - an attack that almost razed the theatre too.

The Freedom Theatre was set up by Mr Mer Khamis with the aid of Zakaria Zubeidi, who was once the head of the Jenin branch of the al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades. He gave up an armed struggle in favour of what he calls cultural resistance and was granted an amnesty by Israel in an attempt to defuse years of violence.

Too shy to act - and his face stained with gunpowder - Mr Zubeidi, 33, is a keen drama critic and sponsor of the theatre, and backs its latest attempt to challenge some of the Palestinians' flaws.

“We have to show the world what is happening. Every revolution makes mistakes,” he said. “Outside the theatre you can't express yourself, but on the stage you can.”

While many people in the camp have criticised former fighters for swapping their guns for greasepaint, one of Mr Zubeidi's former comrades-in-arms has taken up the theatre with enthusiasm and turns in a fine performance as the horse Clover in the adaptation.

“I knew the armed struggle was over but I wanted to continue the struggle in another way,” said Rabieh Turkman, 23, who fought the Israelis for eight years, was shot three times in the stomach and whose sister was killed by Israeli soldiers.

“People said to me, 'How can you leave, your sister is a martyr and you leave to work with a Jew?'” - a reference to the Jewish mother of the director.

On stage the entourage give a stirring rendition of Orwell's classic tale of the corrupting influence of power, with the word “revolution” interchanged liberally with the more Palestinian expression “intifada”.

In case audience members miss the message in the final scene the human who enters the farm to do business with the pigs, who have betrayed the revolution, speaks Hebrew and wears an army uniform - a scene that is greeted with clapping and whooping.

“Our message from this is the corruption in the Palestinian Authority, but not just in the PA, in all governments, especially after a revolution” Mr Turkman said. “It reflects our national struggle, we are fighting corrupt leaders who bring Israelis into our land, as you see at the end.”

So far the theatre has dodged the wrath of the Palestinian Authority, although the director doubts that President Abbas will be buying a ticket any time soon.

It could have been worse. They had intended originally to stage The Lieutenant of Inishmore, about a psychotic, violent IRA officer who loves nothing but his cat. Mr Mer Khamis said that it was too risky to attack the “sacred cow of the resistance - the shahid”, or martyr. “We got cold feet,” he admitted.