In the shadow of a worsening humanitarian crisis in Gaza and escalating regional tensions after Israeli strikes on Iran, Lebanon, Syria, Yemen, and Qatar, US President Donald Trump unveiled a bold Middle East peace plan on September 29 at a press conference alongside Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. The proposal seeks to halt a devastating two-year conflict that has claimed over 66,000 Palestinian lives and left Gaza in ruins.
Crafted by Trump’s Middle East envoy, Steve Witkoff, and his son-in-law, Jared Kushner, who helped broker the Abraham Accords, this 20-point plan aims to deliver a lasting resolution. It promises to reshape the region’s future, building on past diplomatic successes while confronting the stark realities of the ongoing crisis.
While supporters hail the plan as a game-changer — a bold attempt to reset the Israeli-Hamas standoff — critics see it a dangerous gamble fraught with hazards and uncertainties. Given the intractable nature of the conflict and trust being at an all-time low, expecting cooperation from all parties is being seen as naive at best, and dangerous at worst.
While the plan has secured crucial diplomatic backing from Israel, for a broad swath of Arab and Muslim nations, and India, its ultimate test is a ticking clock. Hamas, under a “three or four day” ultimatum from Trump, has so far withheld a formal response. So far, its response has been one of cautious ambivalence: Refusing to formally accept or reject, while publicly branding the plan a “biased Israeli project which has completely ignored Palestinian interests”.
Trump’s plan involves a phased Israeli withdrawal from Gaza, replaced by a transitional authority composed of non-political Palestinians and international technocrats to rebuild Gaza under the close supervision of a “Board of Peace” headed by Trump himself and other world leaders, including former UK prime minister Tony Blair. The plan also proposes deploying an International Stabilisation Force, composed of Arab and international partners, to the Gaza Strip.
The proposal demands that Hamas disarm and surrender, with members granted safe passage if they commit to peaceful co-existence. It must return all hostages within 72 hours and relinquish political control. In return, Israel would cease offensive operations, release 250 Palestinians serving life sentences and 1,700 Gazans arrested after October 7, and promise humanitarian aid and reconstruction. Unlike Trump’s previous “Riviera of the Middle East” vision, this plan explicitly states that Gazans would not be displaced.
However, the plan is fraught with challenges, with many of its provisions appearing vague and key details remaining undefined: The selection process for the transitional technocrats, the composition and mandate of the International Stabilisation Force, and the specific milestones for Israeli withdrawal. A “Board of Peace” led by foreign actors may lack legitimacy in Palestinian eyes.
The entire plan seems overwhelmingly tilted toward Israel, which is often accused of using negotiations to consolidate strategic gains while avoiding substantive concessions. While the plan demands Hamas surrender both its weapons and political authority, it allows Israel to retain control over Gaza until it unilaterally decides that the requisite “conditions” for a full withdrawal have been satisfied. Crucially, the plan neither mandates the dismantling of Israeli settlements nor stipulates a time-bound framework for the permanent termination of the occupation. The omission of any clear provision for Palestinian statehood is equally disturbing, with the plan offering merely a conditional and protracted commitment to self-determination.
Securing Hamas’s consent is crucial; without it, the plan risks devolving into a unilateral arrangement between Israel and the United States, lacking legitimacy. With its credibility anchored in resistance, Hamas is unlikely to surrender its leverage and identity for vague promises. Should Hamas reject or delay, the plan is likely to collapse, prolonging the conflict.
Hamas considers Trump an untrustworthy mediator who is openly aligned with Israeli interests. His recognition of Jerusalem as Israel’s capital, the halting of US funding to UNRWA, support for West Bank annexation, and blocking of UN ceasefire efforts have all undermined his credibility as a peace broker.
Although Netanyahu has approved the plan, securing the support of far-right factions — who have resisted anything short of continuing the war and a final takeover of Gaza — is equally vital, as their backing is crucial both for the plan’s viability and for Netanyahu’s political future.
In short, the plan relies heavily on trust, goodwill, and diplomatic pressure in a region where betrayal, spoilers, and competing agendas are routine. More crucially, it appears to reward decades of violent contestation rather than addressing the root causes of occupation and dispossession.
Notwithstanding its striking flaws, Trump’s plan is not completely devoid of merit. It forces all sides to engage and outlines a post-war vision that acknowledges the magnitude of Gaza’s destruction. If it succeeds, even partially, it may create a breathing space. But if it fails, it could deepen despair, distrust, and violence.
The writer is dean, Faculty of International Studies, AMU, Aligarh