The original premise raises the right question: not why US President Trump’s Gaza plan is stalling, but why almost all participants in the process expected its political death from the very beginning. The problem is not just Hamas, not just Israel, not just Netanyahu, and not just Washington’s inability to force the parties to fulfill their commitments.
The main problem runs deeper: the plan was engineered as a diplomatic showcase rather than a functional mechanism for a settlement. It was designed for television impact, for a signature, for a photograph, for the "deal of the century" formula, but not for the messy, heavy, multi-layered reality of Gaza.
A Peace Plan Born as Political Theater
In October 2025, US President Trump helped push through a ceasefire between Israel and Hamas and presented a 20-point plan as a roadmap to end the war in Gaza. On paper, everything looked grand: a ceasefire, the release of hostages, the withdrawal of Israeli troops to the "yellow line", the demilitarization of the enclave, the establishment of the Board of Peace, international guarantees, reconstruction, a transitional administration, international stabilization forces, and, ultimately, the vague prospect of Palestinian self-determination. Yet even then, it was clear: the parties were not signing the same document, but rather different interpretations of a single text.
Israel viewed the plan primarily as a tool for the forced disarmament of Hamas and the retention of military control over a significant part of Gaza until the threat was deemed eliminated. Hamas saw it as a pause in the war, a channel for humanitarian relief, and an opportunity to turn the weapons issue into political leverage—only after guaranteed progress toward Palestinian statehood. A chasm yawned between these two logics. And it is precisely into this chasm that the entire project is falling today.
Formally, the plan provided for the demilitarization of Gaza under the supervision of independent observers, the decommissioning of weapons, an internationally funded weapons buyback and militant reintegration program, and the creation of a temporary International Stabilization Force that was supposed to enter Gaza quickly and help form a vetted Palestinian police force. The document also stated that Israel would not occupy or annex Gaza, and the IDF was to gradually hand over controlled territories to the international forces and the transitional administration. In reality, however, key questions remained unanswered: who exactly disarms Hamas, in what sequence, under whose guarantees, with what enforcement support, under what status of Israeli troops, and what happens if one of the parties decides the other is sabotaging the process.
A Deal Without Sequence Is a Trap, Not a Deal
Any serious peace mechanism relies on sequence. First a ceasefire, then control of the line of contact, then humanitarian access, then a political governing body, then security, then reconstruction, and finally long-term status. In the Trump plan, this ladder was replaced by a political elevator meant to take everyone to the top floor at once. But the elevator got stuck between floors.
Israel demands the disarmament of Hamas as a prerequisite. Hamas demands political guarantees and an Israeli withdrawal as a prerequisite. Arab nations do not want to send their soldiers to Gaza to become the infantry of someone else's conflict. European countries do not want to take responsibility for the failure of an American project. Egypt fears the displacement of Palestinians into the Sinai. Jordan fears a new wave of demographic pressure. Turkey wants to participate in the political architecture but refuses to be an extra under an Israeli dictate. The Gulf states are ready to pay, but they are not ready to fund the endless reconstruction of a territory that could be bombed again tomorrow.
Therefore, the International Stabilization Force remains, in essence, an acronym without boots on the ground. It is not an army. Not a mission. Not a contingent. Not a guarantor of security. For now, it is a diplomatic promise backed by no mandate, no personnel, no rules of engagement, no clear chain of command, and no regional political consensus.
Board of Peace: A Loud Name, a Weak Institution
In January 2026, the White House announced the composition of the Board of Peace and the Gaza Executive Board. This structure brought in Marco Rubio, Steve Witkoff, Jared Kushner, Tony Blair, Ajay Banga, and other figures, while Nickolay Mladenov was assigned the role of High Representative for Gaza—the link between the Board of Peace and the National Committee for the Administration of Gaza. General Jasper Jeffers was appointed commander of the International Stabilization Force. On paper, it looked like a corporate-state model for governing post-war Gaza: diplomacy, finance, security, infrastructure, reconstruction, investment, and humanitarian coordination.
But Gaza is not an investment portfolio or a real estate development project. It is a devastated territory with more than two million traumatized people, an armed underground, an Israeli army on the ground, regional players behind the scenes, collapsed infrastructure, blockaded crossings, and a severe shortage of water, medicine, housing, and political legitimacy. You cannot manage reality there through a board of directors. You cannot replace sovereignty with a committee. You cannot replace trust with a press release. You cannot replace security with a "surrender your weapons first, then we talk" formula.
British parliamentary analysis explicitly noted that by early 2026, stage two had been declared, but core issues remained unresolved: the disarmament of Hamas, full Israeli withdrawal, the composition of Gaza's governance, the role of the transitional committee, humanitarian access, and the future political trajectory. It also pointed out that the Palestinian committee was based in Egypt and had not entered Gaza. This is a critical symptom: the "government" of the territory exists outside the territory it is supposed to administer.
Gaza Without a Government, but With Multiple Masters
The National Committee for the Administration of Gaza was envisioned as a technocratic body to manage daily services, humanitarian aid, and reconstruction. Instead, it found itself in a political vacuum. For Israel, it is useful only to the extent that it prevents Hamas from regaining administrative control. For Hamas, it is suspicious as an instrument of foreign dictation. For the Palestinian Authority, it is dangerous as a competing structure that could permanently bypass Ramallah. For Egypt, it is convenient as a negotiating buffer, but not as a source of a strategic solution.
As a result, Gaza effectively lives under a regime of fragmented authority. Hamas retains influence in parts of the territory. Israeli military control operates across a significant portion of the land. A technocratic committee sits in Cairo, supposed to govern but not governing. The Board of Peace meets in Washington, supposed to coordinate but not controlling. Donors promise money but are in no hurry to pay. The population remains caught between lines, maps, checkpoints, tents, and ruins.
This is not a transitional order. It is a managed paralysis.
The Yellow Line Becomes an Orange Zone: How a Ceasefire Turns Into a Creeping Occupation
Under the terms of the October ceasefire, Israel was supposed to hold about 53 percent of Gaza's territory behind the so-called "yellow line". By May 2026, however, Reuters reported that the Israeli control zone had expanded to approximately 64 percent due to new restricted areas designated on maps for humanitarian organizations. Subsequently, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu announced an intention to bring that control up to 70 percent of Gaza's territory.
This alters the very nature of the agreement. If the ceasefire line is constantly shifting, it is no longer a truce, but a military administration of space. If a buffer zone expands without the political consent of the second party and without an international monitoring mechanism, it ceases to be a temporary security measure and becomes an instrument of territorial pressure.
In Gaza, this logic is particularly explosive. It is one of the most densely populated areas in the world, where more than two million people lack normal living space. When the zone of Israeli control expands from 53 to 64 percent, followed by a target of 70 percent, it is not just about a military map. It means the squeezing of people, tents, hospitals, warehouses, aid routes, water points, cemeteries, ruins, and the remnants of urban infrastructure. In such a geography, every percentage of territory is not an abstract statistic, but breath, water, food, medical evacuation, and a chance to survive.
Netanyahu Plays to Both Gaza and the Israeli Public
Netanyahu is acting in the classic logic of a leader who, after a long war, cannot deliver a strategic victory but must demonstrate control. Israel conducted a massive campaign in Gaza, waged operations against Hezbollah, engaged in a regional confrontation surrounding Iran, and faced diplomatic pressure and domestic friction. Yet none of the main issues have been permanently resolved: Hamas has not been eliminated as a political-military structure, the northern front remains dangerous, Iran has not disappeared as a factor, Israel's international reputation is severely damaged, and the issue of hostages and security has become a deep internal trauma.
Under these conditions, expanding the zone of control in Gaza becomes a political signal for the domestic audience. Netanyahu is showing that the army is moving forward, security dictates the terms, Hamas gets no breathing room, and Israel does not back down. While this tactic may produce a short-term electoral effect, it simultaneously destroys the last remaining shell of the agreement. Reuters explicitly pointed out that the move toward 70 percent triggered alarm among European nations and a sharp reaction from Hamas, which called it a dangerous escalation and an attempt at the forced displacement of Palestinians.
Hamas Also Waits for the Plan's Demise
It is a mistake to view Hamas as a passive actor that merely reacts to Israel. Hamas is also calculating its moves. It understands that surrendering weapons without clear political guarantees would mean unilateral disarmament before an adversary rather than reform. It sees that Israeli forces are not withdrawing but are expanding their zone of control. It sees that the International Stabilization Force has not arrived. It sees that Palestinian statehood remains a formula of the future tense. It sees that donors are stalling. It sees that the attention of US President Trump is splintering among Iran, Lebanon, domestic American politics, and other crises.
For Hamas, this means time can be bought. It can talk about "freezing" weapons, about storage, about the gradual withdrawal of heavy armaments, about guarantees, and about a Palestinian consensus—but not about total capitulation. In the logic of Hamas, weapons are not just a military resource. They are political capital, insurance against rivals, an instrument of internal control, and the primary leverage in negotiations.
This brings about the central deadlock. Israel demands from Hamas what Hamas considers suicide. Hamas demands from Israel what the current Israeli political system considers capitulation. The Board of Peace was supposed to break this circle, but it found itself trapped inside it instead.
Humanitarian Catastrophe Held Hostage by the Logic of Force
The most chilling aspect of this construct is that the civilian population continues to live between the strategic calculations of both sides. According to OCHA data, between May 12 and May 20, 2026, alone, the ministry of health in Gaza reported 24 deaths, five recovered bodies, two individuals who succumbed to wounds, and 159 injuries. Since the announcement of the ceasefire agreement on October 10, 2025, these data records indicate 881 deaths and 2,621 injuries.
This is the cynical essence of the "ceasefire" in Gaza: formally, the major war is paused, but people continue to die. Formally, a peace plan exists, but reconstruction has barely begun. Formally, there is humanitarian access, but it remains politically rationed. Formally, an administration exists, but it is not located within Gaza. Formally, international guarantees are in place, but no one is ready to become a real guarantor.
The food situation also remains dire. In December 2025, the IPC estimated that between December 1, 2025, and April 15, 2026, approximately 1.6 million people in Gaza would face acute food insecurity at Crisis levels or higher, including 571,000 people in Emergency and around 1,900 people in Catastrophe. While the situation may have partially improved compared to the peak phases of famine due to expanded aid access, the system remains extremely fragile: any blockade, a new military operation, a crossing closure, or a supply disruption instantly pushes Gaza back toward starvation.
Reconstruction That Exists Only in Promises
The primary economic failure of the plan is reconstruction. It is impossible to disarm a territory if its population is shown no future. It is impossible to displace an armed structure from the social fabric when schools, hospitals, homes, water pipes, sewage systems, and power grids remain in ruins. It is impossible to build new political legitimacy on empty promises.
In May 2026, The Guardian described Gaza as a space of "grim limbo": more than seven months have passed since the agreement, yet reconstruction has not begun, the Board of Peace faces funding hurdles, and the Palestinian technocrats selected to run the enclave remain in Egypt. According to data in that report, nine countries promised 7 billion dollars for a Gaza aid package, but actual inflows turned out to be disproportionately minuscule: a mere 23 million dollars for operational expenses and 100 million for a future Palestinian police force, whereas the total cost of rebuilding Gaza is estimated by the UN at over 70 billion dollars spanning decades.
This figure stands as a verdict on the entire architecture. Proposing 7 billion dollars in pledges looks impressive at a summit. A requirement of 70 billion dollars for real reconstruction looks terrifying in an accounting ledger. Meanwhile, 123 million dollars in actual money amid total devastation is not restoration; it is the imitation of a process launch.
Donors Refuse to Pay for a New War
Why is the money not flowing? The answer is simple: donors do not believe in the political viability of the scheme. The Gulf states have already seen billions of dollars invested in Palestinian infrastructure only for it to be obliterated in the next cycle of war. Europeans do not want to finance a project where Washington makes the key decisions, Israel controls security, and Europe pays the political price. Egypt wants stability on its border but refuses to become a warehouse for the Palestinian crisis. Turkey wants a seat at the table but does not intend to bankroll an American-Israeli model without a distinct political status for the Palestinians.
For any investor, even a state actor, the fundamental question is stark: who guarantees that a newly built hospital will not be destroyed in six months? Who guarantees that a new police structure will not end up caught between Hamas, Israel, clans, local armed groups, and foreign intelligence services? Who guarantees that the funds will not dissolve into corruption, military logistics, the black market, and political sabotage? As long as there is no answer, donors will continue to make promises without transferring funds.
A Peace Plan Lacking Palestine as an Agent
Another foundational flaw is the absence of a fully realized Palestinian political agent. The Palestinian Authority in Ramallah is weak, discredited, aging, bureaucratic, and commands no real trust in Gaza. Hamas is armed but remains toxic to Israel, the US, and several Arab regimes. A technocratic committee might be convenient for external players, but it lacks organic legitimacy. Consequently, Palestinian society finds itself treated once again as an object of governance rather than an agent of decision-making.
This is an old colonial defect of Middle Eastern diplomacy: external forces design institutions for a territory without resolving the issue of political representation for its people. A committee can be created. A coordinator can be appointed. A board can be approved. A reconstruction fund can be devised. But if Palestinians see this not as a path to freedom but as a new form of external administration under Israeli control, the arrangement will never be durable.
Israeli Security Versus Palestinian Statehood: A False Dichotomy
The Israeli side asserts that the disarmament of Hamas is necessary to ensure that the events of October 7, 2023, never happen again. This is not a rhetorical detail; it represents a genuine trauma for Israeli society and a real factor in national security. No state would agree to live adjacent to an armed force that has already launched a massive assault on its citizens. This argument cannot simply be dismissed.
Yet the other side of the issue is equally evident: if Israel's security implies the endless military fragmentation of Gaza, the absence of a political horizon, the expansion of buffer zones, restrictions on the return of displaced people, and the blocking of full-scale reconstruction, then that version of security inherently generates a new war. It is impossible to eliminate Hamas while preserving all the conditions that allow it to claim that only weapons can protect Palestinians.
Without a political horizon, disarmament looks to Palestinians not like demilitarization, but like being disarmed in the face of occupation. Without demilitarization, a political horizon looks to Israel like a reward for terror. Thus, the conflict returns to its foundational dilemma: each side demands a first step from the other that the other views as fatally dangerous.
Why Arab Nations Refuse to Police Gaza
There has been substantial talk about Arab nations deploying forces into Gaza. In practice, this remains nearly impossible without a clear political mandate. Egyptian, Jordanian, Emirati, Saudi, or other Arab military personnel refuse to find themselves in a position where they must suppress Hamas to serve Israeli interests. This would constitute political suicide for any Arab government.
If an Arab soldier fires at a Palestinian in Gaza, even if that individual is a militant, the regional public will perceive it as an act subservient to the Israeli occupation. If an Arab contingent refrains from firing, Israel will label it useless. If it positions itself between Israel and Hamas, it turns into a target for both sides. Consequently, an international stabilization force lacking a distinct Palestinian mandate, a UN Security Council resolution, the consent of key regional actors, and a genuine political process is destined to remain a phantom.
The Iranian Factor: The Shadow of a Broader War Over Gaza
Gaza cannot be analyzed in isolation from the regional arc spanning Iran, Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Yemen, and the Persian Gulf. For Israel, Hamas is not merely a Palestinian organization, but an component of a broader threat matrix linked to Iran’s strategy of asymmetric pressure. For Iran, the Palestinian cause serves as a tool for legitimacy, a means of pressure on Israel, and a mechanism to mobilize the regional public. For the United States, Gaza has become one of the many fronts in a state of general Middle Eastern overload.
When Washington’s attention splinters toward Iran, the Strait of Hormuz, Lebanon, the energy market, and domestic American elections, Gaza receives less diplomatic energy. In such conflicts, a vacuum is quickly filled by force. Israel expands its control. Hamas buys time. Donors wait. Egypt contains risks. Europe expresses concern. The population pays the price.
On June 4, 2026, Reuters explicitly pointed out that the ceasefires pushed by US President Trump in the Middle East have not led to a complete cessation of violence: strikes and a deadlock over the disarmament of Hamas persist in Gaza, clashes with Hezbollah continue in Lebanon, and the US-Iran line remains fragile. This exposes a systemic issue: Washington is capable of announcing a ceasefire but is not always able to convert it into a political settlement.
Gaza Has Become a Market for Political Time
Today, all parties are buying time. Israel buys time by expanding control and expecting Hamas to weaken. Hamas buys time by retaining its weapons and expecting Israeli and American pressure to dissipate. Arab states buy time by refusing to enter Gaza without guarantees. Donors buy time by withholding major financial transfers. Europe buys time with statements. The United States buys time with diplomatic formulas.
Yet time in Gaza is not neutral; it works against the civilian population. Every month without reconstruction strengthens the black market, armed networks, trauma, radicalization, the criminalization of humanitarian logistics, and the dependence of people on whoever controls access to food, water, and security. A moderate political environment cannot emerge from such conditions. Such conditions only yield a new war.
Trump's Main Error: Confusing a Deal With a Settlement
US President Trump conceptualizes foreign policy as a business deal: gather the parties, apply pressure, announce a framework, appoint personnel, and showcase a result. Occasionally, this tactic works in commercial negotiations or isolated diplomatic crises. Gaza, however, is not a real estate deal or a corporate merger. It is a conflict of identity, territory, security, occupation, refugees, religion, trauma, international law, and the regional balance of power.
In this arena, one cannot simply state: “Hamas will surrender its weapons, Israel will withdraw, the Arabs will provide soldiers, donors will provide money, and the Palestinians will receive an administration—and then we will discuss statehood.” Every single point depends on the other. Each point blocks the next. Every actor fears that a concession will become irreversible, while the counter-concession may never materialize.
This is precisely why the plan is not dying instantly, but through slow erosion. First, the international force fails to arrive. Then, the committee does not enter. Next, the funds do not flow. Subsequently, the Israeli zone expands. Then, accusations of violations multiply. Eventually, the ceasefire degrades into a low-intensity war. Ultimately, everyone continues to pretend the plan is alive, even though it no longer functions on the ground.
What Could Save the Plan—and Why It Is Barely Happening
Theoretically, the plan could still be resuscitated. This would require five rigid conditions:
A Fixed Map: The "yellow line" cannot shift at the discretion of one party. Any modification to the control zone must be approved by an international mechanism.
A Real Mandate for the Stabilization Force: Not a mere press release, but a defined composition, a clear chain of command, rules of engagement, funding, a legal framework, and regional political backing.
A Package of Reciprocal Sequencing: Neither "Hamas must surrender everything first" nor "Israel must withdraw completely first", but rather synchronized phases: withdrawal from specific sectors, the transfer of heavy weaponry, the entry of police, the unblocking of reconstruction, the expansion of humanitarian access, and international monitoring.
Palestinian Legitimacy: Technocrats lacking a political foundation cannot hold Gaza. A structural link to a renewed Palestinian institutional framework is required; otherwise, the committee will remain an administration in exile.
Upfront Funding Under Strict Oversight: Without the immediate reconstruction of water, medical, energy, and housing infrastructure, any discussion regarding stabilization remains a fiction.
The obstacle is that all these conditions require a political will that is currently nowhere to be seen. Israel relies on military pressure. Hamas relies on survival. The United States relies on managed uncertainty. Arab nations rely on caution. Europe relies on declarations. This is not a coalition for peace; it is a coalition of waiting.
Conclusion: The Trump Plan Is Not Dead; It Is Becoming a Backdrop
The gravest danger in the current situation is not that the Trump plan has failed. Something else is more dangerous: it may continue to exist as a diplomatic backdrop masking a new reality on the ground. While official documents speak of a temporary mechanism, new zones of control are being entrenched on the land. While statements speak of reconstruction, people continue to live among ruins. While press releases write of international forces, not a single real soldier of a stabilization contingent alters the security balance. While there is talk of future Palestinian self-determination, the present of Gaza is being fragmented into lines, buffers, permits, and prohibitions.
Gaza has once again become a place where great powers display ambitions, regional actors hedge risks, armed structures maintain leverage, and the civilian population turns into a hostage to the calculations of others. In this sense, the failure of the Trump plan is no accident. It is the logical outcome of a diplomacy that attempted to replace a political solution with a management scheme, security with a map of zones, statehood with a promise, and trust with a committee.
This is exactly why many are not waiting for the Board of Peace to start working. They are waiting for it to quietly vanish from the news, leaving behind yet another map of an unachieved peace. Gaza, however, will find no relief in this. On this land, every dead peace plan usually serves as the preface to a new war.