Trump's Gaza plan at the peace summit focuses on reconstruction, sidelining the issue of Palestinian statehood and the implementation challenges
When President Donald Trump arrived in Tel Aviv, on Monday 13 October and later in Sharm el-Sheikh, for the 2025 Gaza Peace Summit, he presented nothing less than a “historic dawn of a new Middle East”. His plan, unveiled with international fanfare, envisioned Gaza transformed from a war-torn enclave into a regional hub of reconstruction and renewal — a peace that would “end 3 000 years of conflict”. Addressing the Israeli Knesset, Trump cast the US as the indispensable broker of a breakthrough unlike any before.
The substance however never matched the ceremony. Two weeks earlier, the 20-point plan had already set the terms: Gaza to be rendered a de-radicalised, terror-free zone; temporary administration by a technocratic Palestinian committee operating under international supervision and a new Board of Peace to oversee reconstruction and compliance. What the plan did not do was commit to Palestinian statehood or reaffirm the two-state framework long grounded in UN Security Council Resolutions 242 and 338 and now supported by an overwhelming 153 of 193 member states under the 2025 New York Declaration, adopted at the 80th Session of the UN General Assembly.
By the time Air Force One departed from Sharm el-Sheikh, the sweeping vision had dramatically shrunk. What began as a bold appeal to end war and lay the foundations for peace had been reduced to a narrow agenda of reconstruction and control — rebuilding Gaza while sidelining Hamas and deferring any path to Palestinian sovereignty. The grand design had become a plan for reconstruction without resolution. To imagine that hostages can be freed, Gaza rebuilt and the region stabilised without confronting the political core of the conflict is to misread decades of history.
Hope, like diplomacy, must be anchored in the hard work that follows the signing — work that Trump appears to underestimate.
Three obstacles to lasting peace
1. Shrinking the promise risks losing legitimacy
Narrowing the promise threatens the legitimacy painstakingly built in the run-up to the agreement among the Arab and Muslim states — and several European partners — that attended the Sharm el-Sheikh summit. They arrived expecting a broad bargain: security for Israel, dignity and state-building for Palestinians and regional normalisation.
When the public message contracted — from “a new Middle East” to a conditional rebuilding scheme — it signalled retreat. Palestinians rightly ask, “What of self-determination?” Meanwhile, Israel’s leadership continues to reject a two-state path, both in the Knesset and in the context of this current deal.
For Israel, the uncertainty lies in who will govern Gaza and sustain security once international attention fades. Trump’s team has suggested that Hamas can at least temporarily retain a local policing role — an acknowledgement of reality, but not a substitute for a political vision.
As we have argued prior, the two-state solution remains the only path rooted in law and legitimacy. Rolling back the two-state solution for a transactional deal erodes trust in diplomacy. And the image of Palestinians being “represented” by Western envoys only deepens cynicism.
No peace can be credible if those most affected are absent from shaping it. The conspicuous absence of both Hamas and Israel in Sharm el-Sheikh was alarming. Peace forged without the participation of those who must implement it rarely survives the first contact with reality.
2. Mixed messages breed instability
Trump’s rhetoric veered from “an era-defining peace” to the technicalities of reconstruction. These are not incompatible goals — but they reflect vastly different horizons. Rebuilding without a political horizon keeps Gaza in the shadow of occupation rather than moving it beyond it.
Many of the 20 world leaders who gathered in Sharm el-Sheikh expected a credible process toward two states living side by side. Instead, the gulf between vision and execution has exposed a fragile coalition. The fact that Trump listened attentively to Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu proclaiming the West Bank part of Israel, without raising an eyebrow, the repeated “Gaza Riviera” rhetoric, the reliance on foreign administration and the sudden retreat to narrower goals all signal drift — and risk undermining the very consensus Trump sought to build.
3. The hard work comes after the signing
The hardest work of peace begins once the guns fall silent. Negotiations might end a war, but implementation determines whether peace endures. As discussed prior, peace agreements most often fail because of design flaws, weak capacity and political constraints — above all, the unwillingness to confront the root causes of conflict.
Peace processes must be treated as ongoing political settlement, not a technocratic project. Implementation requires adaptation, inclusivity and context — and culture-specific approaches that engage those excluded from power and address the structural injustices that drive violence. In Gaza, this means confronting the central political deficit — the denial of Palestinian statehood and self-determination. Reconstruction cannot substitute for rights.
Without credible pathways to sovereignty, representation and security for both Palestinians and Israelis, any agreement risks entrenching division rather than healing it. The UN Sustaining Peace Agenda underscores this truth — peace must rest on justice and legitimacy, not short-term deals.
Embracing the “day after”
While Trump’s administration financially, militarily and politically backed Israel’s campaign for about nine months, he deserves credit for helping secure a ceasefire and hostage release, persuading sceptical regional actors to convene and refocusing attention on Gaza’s humanitarian catastrophe. But leadership is not performance — it is follow-through. A “historic dawn” must be followed by the patient, principled work that real peace demands.
Clarity of purpose and consistency of message are vital. Implementation must be sustained through transparent, participatory mechanisms that build confidence over time. And legitimacy cannot be imposed; it must be earned.
Trump’s visit produced headlines, but headlines do not institutionalise peace. The world should welcome any effort that alleviates suffering in Gaza, staying clear-eyed about what sustainable peace requires. It is not brokered in days or sealed in photo-ops. It is forged through principled, long-term engagement grounded in justice and the realisation of Palestinian statehood.
If the world applauds the summit and moves on, it will have mistaken ceremony for substance.
To embrace the “day after” is to confront the real work of peace — the unfinished task of building a future in which Gaza and Israel stand not in ruins and rage, but in rights and recognition.
Sultan Barakat is a professor at the College of Public Policy, Hamad Bin Khalifa University, and distinguished visiting professor at the Qatar-South Africa Centre for Peace and Intercultural Understanding, Faculty of Humanities, University of Johannesburg.
Erin McCandless is professor of Politics and International Relations and director of the Qatar-South Africa Centre for Peace and Intercultural Understanding, Faculty of Humanities, University of Johannesburg.