October 2, 2025
Ronny P Sasmita
( Middle East Monitor ) – The Gaza plan unveiled by Donald Trump and reluctantly accepted by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has been described as bold, controversial, and even theatrical. And indeed, it is all of these things. But it is also something else, perhaps the only available mechanism, however imperfect, to bring a pause to a conflict that has consumed countless lives and devastated Gaza’s infrastructure. For that reason alone, it deserves recognition, even if one cannot fully ignore its flaws or the ambitions that inspired it.
Ronny P Sasmita
( Middle East Monitor ) – The Gaza plan unveiled by Donald Trump and reluctantly accepted by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has been described as bold, controversial, and even theatrical. And indeed, it is all of these things. But it is also something else, perhaps the only available mechanism, however imperfect, to bring a pause to a conflict that has consumed countless lives and devastated Gaza’s infrastructure. For that reason alone, it deserves recognition, even if one cannot fully ignore its flaws or the ambitions that inspired it.
The plan’s central features are
already well known. It calls for a ceasefire between Israel and Hamas, the
release of all hostages within seventy two hours, a massive prisoner exchange,
and, most importantly, the demilitarisation of Gaza. It sets up a “Board of
Peace” chaired personally by Trump to oversee humanitarian aid, reconstruction,
and governance, while sidelining Hamas and limiting the Palestinian Authority
to little more than a symbolic role. Qatar is tasked with mediating Hamas’
reluctant acceptance, promising to use its leverage to secure compliance. In
return, Gaza would be promised international support, renewed public services,
and billions in reconstruction assistance.
Critics, of course, see this plan
less as a peace agreement and more as political theater. Trump is running for
history, not just for office, and he seeks to engrave his name as the man who
finally silenced Gaza’s guns. Netanyahu, meanwhile, has accepted the deal less
out of conviction than out of necessity, compelled by American pressure,
regional dynamics, and his own weakening position at home. Even Netanyahu’s
apology to Qatar, a remarkable reversal given years of Israeli accusations
against Doha, demonstrates how much this plan has been forced upon him.
And yet, even when acknowledging these realities, one cannot entirely dismiss the potential value of this arrangement. For the people of Gaza, families who have endured repeated wars, bombings, and humanitarian collapse, what matters most is not Trump’s political legacy or Netanyahu’s discomfort. What matters is whether food, medicine, electricity, and clean water will finally reach them without interruption. If this plan, however motivated, brings a measure of relief, then it has to be taken seriously.
Still, optimism must be tempered with realism. The plan hinges on the complete demilitarisation of Hamas, something that strikes at the very core of the movement’s identity. To expect Hamas fighters to surrender weapons, abandon resistance, or leave Gaza peacefully may be more of a hope than a practical outcome. Qatar’s influence is significant, but it is not absolute. Resistance movements rarely dissolve simply because a foreign patron tells them to. There is every possibility that underground networks will remain, that weapons will be hidden, and that new groups will emerge even if Hamas’ formal structure is weakened.
There is also the question of governance. An international “Board of Peace” chaired by Trump might sound visionary on paper, but in practice it risks becoming yet another bureaucratic experiment imposed on Palestinians without their genuine participation. The Palestinian Authority, already viewed with skepticism by many Palestinians, would play only a limited, almost cosmetic role. This does not solve the deeper issue of Palestinian sovereignty. At best, it manages the conflict temporarily, deferring the harder questions of political rights, justice, and long-term independence.
And yet, one must not lose sight of the immediate humanitarian stakes. Gaza is in ruins. Hospitals operate with dwindling supplies, children suffer from malnutrition, and basic services have collapsed. If the Trump plan truly opens the gates for humanitarian aid, international funding, and reconstruction projects, then it will deliver something tangible, however fragile. A pause in violence, even one born of political convenience, creates space for families to rebuild their lives, for schools to reopen, and for children to grow up without constant fear.
This is where the world must play its part. Applauding the plan’s ambition is not enough. The international community must monitor its implementation closely, ensuring that aid is not diverted, that reconstruction is genuine, and that both Israel and Hamas, or whatever emerges in Gaza’s political space, are held accountable. Transparency and oversight will be critical, especially given the immense sums of money that will flow into Gaza once the plan takes effect. Without strong supervision, corruption and mismanagement could squander this rare opportunity for relief.
There is also the broader regional context. Arab states, particularly Qatar, Egypt, and Jordan, will need to act not as spectators but as guarantors of the plan’s humanitarian and security components. The United States, under Trump’s personal leadership, will claim credit for brokering peace, but the day to day work of keeping Gaza stable will fall largely on regional actors. This requires genuine coordination and political will, both of which have often been lacking in past attempts at Gaza reconstruction.
The Gaza plan does not resurrect the two-state solution. In fact, it may be seen as its quiet burial, reducing Palestinian aspirations to managed autonomy while strengthening Israel’s control. That is why many analysts remain deeply skeptical, and rightly so. But peace processes are rarely born in ideal conditions. They are often imperfect, lopsided, and full of contradictions. The question is whether they can, despite all this, deliver some measure of relief to those most affected.
Here, the Trump plan might succeed, not in solving the conflict once and for all, but in freezing it long enough to let humanitarian aid flow and to reduce the suffering of ordinary Gazans. That may be a modest achievement in historical terms, but for the people who have lost homes, loved ones, and livelihoods, it is an achievement worth having.
So yes, Trump’s Gaza plan is driven by ambition. Yes, Netanyahu accepted it under pressure. Yes, it is flawed, fragile, and perhaps unsustainable. But it is also a chance, however slim, to interrupt a cycle of violence that has defined Gaza for too long. The world should approach it with caution, with skepticism, and with vigilance. But it should also recognize its potential value. Because in the end, peace is rarely pure. Sometimes, even peace born of ambition can bring relief. And sometimes, that is enough.
Scott Lucas
The US president, Donald Trump, unveiled a 20-point proposal to end the war in Gaza on September 29. The plan proposes an immediate end to the fighting and the release of all Israeli hostages held by Hamas in exchange for hundreds of detained Gazans. It also includes the promise of humanitarian aid for Palestinians and reconstruction in Gaza.
Whether Israel and Hamas ultimately reach a deal remains to be seen. Trump’s proposal has been accepted by the Israeli prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, though it has been rejected by hard-right members of Israel’s governing coalition. Hamas is yet to respond.
More unanimous has been the response of leaders elsewhere in the Arab or Muslim world, who say they are ready to engage with the US to finalise and implement the agreement. We spoke to Scott Lucas, a Middle East expert at Dublin City University, about where these states fit into the peace plan.
Which Arab and Muslim countries support Trump’s peace plan?
Most Arab and Muslim countries are backing the 20-point sketch. Officials from these states reportedly met their US counterparts on the sidelines of the UN General Assembly in New York last week to discuss Trump’s framework to end the war.
The foreign ministers of eight states – Saudi Arabia, Jordan, the United Arab Emirates (UAE), Indonesia, Pakistan, Turkey, Qatar and Egypt – then welcomed Trump’s “sincere efforts” towards ending the war in a joint statement on September 29. They asserted their “confidence in his ability to find a path to peace”.
There are multiple reasons for their backing. Arab and Muslim leaders may just want the mass killing of Gaza’s civilians to stop. The Gaza Health Ministry says over 66,000 Palestinians have now been killed since the war began two years ago.
At the same time, they are concerned about regional security. Israel has launched strikes on Lebanon, Syria and Yemen in recent weeks. And it smashed Qatar’s sovereignty on September 9 with an airstrike in the capital, Doha, trying to assassinate Hamas negotiators.
These leaders are not fans of Hamas, with some of them perceiving the organisation as a threat to internal stability in their countries. Privately, they may welcome the degradation of the group. But publicly they have to express solidarity with the Palestinian people.
So, how can these countries curb Israel’s military operations? The approach cannot come directly from them. Even as Qatar was mediating peace talks, Netanyahu’s ministers were declaring that it was a supporter of “terrorism” because of its role in hosting Hamas political leadership. Israel had to be reached through its essential backer: Donald Trump.
Feeding ideas to Trump officials such as his envoy, the real estate developer Steve Witkoff, the Arab and Muslim countries could get some leverage against Netanyahu. And chasing lucrative economic, technological and AI deals with the US, they could play up Trump’s self-declared image of peacemaker.
What role have these states agreed to play as part of the plan?
Like the 20-point sketch, the role of Arab and Muslim states in delivering peace to Gaza is far vaguer than their motives. They would have input into the international “Board of Peace”, nominally headed by Trump, supervising the “temporary, transitional government of Palestinian technocrats”.
They would also be involved in the development of an “international stabilisation force”. The Trump proposal states that this force will train and provide support to vetted Palestinian police forces in Gaza, and will work to secure border areas. But it is unclear if Arab states will contribute security personnel.
There could be economic benefits for these countries from the reconstruction of Gaza with a long-term ceasefire and stability. But those possibilities are unclear in the interim. Trump’s sketch talked only about “the convening of experts with experience in constructing modern Middle East cities” to consider plans “attracting investments and creating jobs”.
Are these governments out of step with public sentiment in their countries?
Arab and Muslim governments have been manoeuvring between Israel, the US and Palestine for many years. They have also been walking a tightrope between external relationships and their publics.
Chide Israel too strongly and risk the loss of the “normalisation” project, with its economic and political benefits. Appear weak in the face of the Netanyahu government, and risk discontent and a loss of legitimacy with their constituents.
Those calculations have fed into the sketch. For the first time, there is a specific clause that Gazans should not be displaced for the development of Trump’s envisioned “Riviera of the Middle East” or for the vision of Netanyahu’s hard-right ministers of long-term Israeli occupation.
Arab and Muslim officials recently highlighted the danger of those Israeli ministers – and possibly Netanyahu – declaring annexation of the West Bank in response to the march of countries recognising a Palestinian state. The Trump administration responded by telling their Israeli allies that annexation was a red line which could not be crossed.
Does the two-state solution remain a red line for the Arab states?
Historically, Arab States have not necessarily put a priority on a two-state resolution. It was the US that propelled the Oslo process, which was supposed to bring about Palestinian self-determination in the form of a Palestinian state, all the way to failure at the Camp David summit in 2000.
Then, in 2002, King Fahd of Saudi Arabia made a proposal for all Arab states to recognise Israel in exchange for its complete withdrawal from the occupied Palestinian territories. However, it was the US that again led publicly for an Israeli-Palestinian settlement until another failure in 2009 during the Obama administration.
There has also arguably been more emphasis in recent years among some Arab states on “normalisation” rather than the two-state solution. But Israel’s campaign in Gaza, combined with the Trump administration’s fervent backing of the Netanyahu government, may have altered this.
Arab states have to evaluate if they are going to ride the international wave towards an emphasis on recognition of Palestine as a state. Alongside France, Saudi Arabia led a forum in New York in September on a two-state outcome.
Trump wants more states to normalise relations with Israel, naming Syria, Lebanon and Saudi Arabia as candidates. How likely is this?
This one is easy. The Netanyahu government’s military approach towards Hamas, rather than an emphasis on political and economic measures to isolate the group, has put normalisation beyond the acceptable for Middle Eastern states.
As long as Israel is killing, starving, displacing and dehumanising Gaza’s civilians, the UAE and Bahrain will be cautious about their recognition of Israel in 2020. Any talk of expanding that recognition with other states – despite the bluster of Trump and Netanyahu – is a wish at best.
More likely, it is deceptive politics as Netanyahu banks on Hamas accepting the ultimatum – or having the pretext of a Hamas rejection for even more intense Israeli military operations in Gaza and an occupation for the foreseeable future.
And yet, even when acknowledging these realities, one cannot entirely dismiss the potential value of this arrangement. For the people of Gaza, families who have endured repeated wars, bombings, and humanitarian collapse, what matters most is not Trump’s political legacy or Netanyahu’s discomfort. What matters is whether food, medicine, electricity, and clean water will finally reach them without interruption. If this plan, however motivated, brings a measure of relief, then it has to be taken seriously.
Still, optimism must be tempered with realism. The plan hinges on the complete demilitarisation of Hamas, something that strikes at the very core of the movement’s identity. To expect Hamas fighters to surrender weapons, abandon resistance, or leave Gaza peacefully may be more of a hope than a practical outcome. Qatar’s influence is significant, but it is not absolute. Resistance movements rarely dissolve simply because a foreign patron tells them to. There is every possibility that underground networks will remain, that weapons will be hidden, and that new groups will emerge even if Hamas’ formal structure is weakened.
There is also the question of governance. An international “Board of Peace” chaired by Trump might sound visionary on paper, but in practice it risks becoming yet another bureaucratic experiment imposed on Palestinians without their genuine participation. The Palestinian Authority, already viewed with skepticism by many Palestinians, would play only a limited, almost cosmetic role. This does not solve the deeper issue of Palestinian sovereignty. At best, it manages the conflict temporarily, deferring the harder questions of political rights, justice, and long-term independence.
And yet, one must not lose sight of the immediate humanitarian stakes. Gaza is in ruins. Hospitals operate with dwindling supplies, children suffer from malnutrition, and basic services have collapsed. If the Trump plan truly opens the gates for humanitarian aid, international funding, and reconstruction projects, then it will deliver something tangible, however fragile. A pause in violence, even one born of political convenience, creates space for families to rebuild their lives, for schools to reopen, and for children to grow up without constant fear.
This is where the world must play its part. Applauding the plan’s ambition is not enough. The international community must monitor its implementation closely, ensuring that aid is not diverted, that reconstruction is genuine, and that both Israel and Hamas, or whatever emerges in Gaza’s political space, are held accountable. Transparency and oversight will be critical, especially given the immense sums of money that will flow into Gaza once the plan takes effect. Without strong supervision, corruption and mismanagement could squander this rare opportunity for relief.
There is also the broader regional context. Arab states, particularly Qatar, Egypt, and Jordan, will need to act not as spectators but as guarantors of the plan’s humanitarian and security components. The United States, under Trump’s personal leadership, will claim credit for brokering peace, but the day to day work of keeping Gaza stable will fall largely on regional actors. This requires genuine coordination and political will, both of which have often been lacking in past attempts at Gaza reconstruction.
The Gaza plan does not resurrect the two-state solution. In fact, it may be seen as its quiet burial, reducing Palestinian aspirations to managed autonomy while strengthening Israel’s control. That is why many analysts remain deeply skeptical, and rightly so. But peace processes are rarely born in ideal conditions. They are often imperfect, lopsided, and full of contradictions. The question is whether they can, despite all this, deliver some measure of relief to those most affected.
Here, the Trump plan might succeed, not in solving the conflict once and for all, but in freezing it long enough to let humanitarian aid flow and to reduce the suffering of ordinary Gazans. That may be a modest achievement in historical terms, but for the people who have lost homes, loved ones, and livelihoods, it is an achievement worth having.
So yes, Trump’s Gaza plan is driven by ambition. Yes, Netanyahu accepted it under pressure. Yes, it is flawed, fragile, and perhaps unsustainable. But it is also a chance, however slim, to interrupt a cycle of violence that has defined Gaza for too long. The world should approach it with caution, with skepticism, and with vigilance. But it should also recognize its potential value. Because in the end, peace is rarely pure. Sometimes, even peace born of ambition can bring relief. And sometimes, that is enough.
Scott Lucas
The US president, Donald Trump, unveiled a 20-point proposal to end the war in Gaza on September 29. The plan proposes an immediate end to the fighting and the release of all Israeli hostages held by Hamas in exchange for hundreds of detained Gazans. It also includes the promise of humanitarian aid for Palestinians and reconstruction in Gaza.
Whether Israel and Hamas ultimately reach a deal remains to be seen. Trump’s proposal has been accepted by the Israeli prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, though it has been rejected by hard-right members of Israel’s governing coalition. Hamas is yet to respond.
More unanimous has been the response of leaders elsewhere in the Arab or Muslim world, who say they are ready to engage with the US to finalise and implement the agreement. We spoke to Scott Lucas, a Middle East expert at Dublin City University, about where these states fit into the peace plan.
Which Arab and Muslim countries support Trump’s peace plan?
Most Arab and Muslim countries are backing the 20-point sketch. Officials from these states reportedly met their US counterparts on the sidelines of the UN General Assembly in New York last week to discuss Trump’s framework to end the war.
The foreign ministers of eight states – Saudi Arabia, Jordan, the United Arab Emirates (UAE), Indonesia, Pakistan, Turkey, Qatar and Egypt – then welcomed Trump’s “sincere efforts” towards ending the war in a joint statement on September 29. They asserted their “confidence in his ability to find a path to peace”.
There are multiple reasons for their backing. Arab and Muslim leaders may just want the mass killing of Gaza’s civilians to stop. The Gaza Health Ministry says over 66,000 Palestinians have now been killed since the war began two years ago.
At the same time, they are concerned about regional security. Israel has launched strikes on Lebanon, Syria and Yemen in recent weeks. And it smashed Qatar’s sovereignty on September 9 with an airstrike in the capital, Doha, trying to assassinate Hamas negotiators.
These leaders are not fans of Hamas, with some of them perceiving the organisation as a threat to internal stability in their countries. Privately, they may welcome the degradation of the group. But publicly they have to express solidarity with the Palestinian people.
So, how can these countries curb Israel’s military operations? The approach cannot come directly from them. Even as Qatar was mediating peace talks, Netanyahu’s ministers were declaring that it was a supporter of “terrorism” because of its role in hosting Hamas political leadership. Israel had to be reached through its essential backer: Donald Trump.
Feeding ideas to Trump officials such as his envoy, the real estate developer Steve Witkoff, the Arab and Muslim countries could get some leverage against Netanyahu. And chasing lucrative economic, technological and AI deals with the US, they could play up Trump’s self-declared image of peacemaker.
What role have these states agreed to play as part of the plan?
Like the 20-point sketch, the role of Arab and Muslim states in delivering peace to Gaza is far vaguer than their motives. They would have input into the international “Board of Peace”, nominally headed by Trump, supervising the “temporary, transitional government of Palestinian technocrats”.
They would also be involved in the development of an “international stabilisation force”. The Trump proposal states that this force will train and provide support to vetted Palestinian police forces in Gaza, and will work to secure border areas. But it is unclear if Arab states will contribute security personnel.
There could be economic benefits for these countries from the reconstruction of Gaza with a long-term ceasefire and stability. But those possibilities are unclear in the interim. Trump’s sketch talked only about “the convening of experts with experience in constructing modern Middle East cities” to consider plans “attracting investments and creating jobs”.
Are these governments out of step with public sentiment in their countries?
Arab and Muslim governments have been manoeuvring between Israel, the US and Palestine for many years. They have also been walking a tightrope between external relationships and their publics.
Chide Israel too strongly and risk the loss of the “normalisation” project, with its economic and political benefits. Appear weak in the face of the Netanyahu government, and risk discontent and a loss of legitimacy with their constituents.
Those calculations have fed into the sketch. For the first time, there is a specific clause that Gazans should not be displaced for the development of Trump’s envisioned “Riviera of the Middle East” or for the vision of Netanyahu’s hard-right ministers of long-term Israeli occupation.
Arab and Muslim officials recently highlighted the danger of those Israeli ministers – and possibly Netanyahu – declaring annexation of the West Bank in response to the march of countries recognising a Palestinian state. The Trump administration responded by telling their Israeli allies that annexation was a red line which could not be crossed.
Does the two-state solution remain a red line for the Arab states?
Historically, Arab States have not necessarily put a priority on a two-state resolution. It was the US that propelled the Oslo process, which was supposed to bring about Palestinian self-determination in the form of a Palestinian state, all the way to failure at the Camp David summit in 2000.
Then, in 2002, King Fahd of Saudi Arabia made a proposal for all Arab states to recognise Israel in exchange for its complete withdrawal from the occupied Palestinian territories. However, it was the US that again led publicly for an Israeli-Palestinian settlement until another failure in 2009 during the Obama administration.
There has also arguably been more emphasis in recent years among some Arab states on “normalisation” rather than the two-state solution. But Israel’s campaign in Gaza, combined with the Trump administration’s fervent backing of the Netanyahu government, may have altered this.
Arab states have to evaluate if they are going to ride the international wave towards an emphasis on recognition of Palestine as a state. Alongside France, Saudi Arabia led a forum in New York in September on a two-state outcome.
Trump wants more states to normalise relations with Israel, naming Syria, Lebanon and Saudi Arabia as candidates. How likely is this?
This one is easy. The Netanyahu government’s military approach towards Hamas, rather than an emphasis on political and economic measures to isolate the group, has put normalisation beyond the acceptable for Middle Eastern states.
As long as Israel is killing, starving, displacing and dehumanising Gaza’s civilians, the UAE and Bahrain will be cautious about their recognition of Israel in 2020. Any talk of expanding that recognition with other states – despite the bluster of Trump and Netanyahu – is a wish at best.
More likely, it is deceptive politics as Netanyahu banks on Hamas accepting the ultimatum – or having the pretext of a Hamas rejection for even more intense Israeli military operations in Gaza and an occupation for the foreseeable future.
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