Trump’s plan faces collapse

Donald Trump has never been shy about making sweeping promises, but when he declared on Truth Social that “greatness in the Middle East” was imminent and teased “something special” for Gaza, many assumed it was just more rhetoric. Instead, what has emerged is a 21-point proposal — sometimes called the “day after” plan — quietly shared with Arab and Muslim leaders during the UN General Assembly in New York. It is the most detailed attempt yet by Washington to outline a political horizon for Gaza after nearly two years of devastating war. The plan’s breadth is striking: hostage releases, phased Israeli withdrawals, international administration, and a path toward eventual Palestinian self-rule. But every element is contested, and the politics surrounding it may be too combustible to allow it to take hold.

At the heart of the draft is an exchange: Hamas would release the remaining Israeli hostages — around 48 by Israel’s count, of whom about 20 are believed alive — within forty-eight hours of a ceasefire. In return, fighters would be allowed safe passage out of Gaza or, according to some accounts, limited amnesties if they renounce armed struggle. Humanitarian aid would surge into the enclave, which has endured famine and bombardment, and Israeli forces would begin a gradual drawdown. The military pullback would not be absolute: Israel insists on maintaining security control over buffer zones and crossings, while international or Arab stabilization forces are envisioned to take up some of the perimeter duties.

To govern Gaza during the transition, the plan sketches a new entity, the Gaza International Transitional Authority (GITA). Reporting suggests this body would be composed of international diplomats and business leaders, with Palestinian technocrats handling local implementation. Former UK Prime Minister Tony Blair has been floated as a possible leader, though that idea is controversial among Palestinians and some regional actors. The authority would manage humanitarian relief, oversee reconstruction, and coordinate with the Palestinian Authority, which is promised eventual governance once it undertakes reforms. Israeli media say the draft includes proposed operating budgets of roughly $90 million in the first year, rising thereafter — figures that exclude the much larger sums needed for reconstruction.

Perhaps most strikingly, the draft avoids language of forced displacement. It stresses that Gazans will not be expelled and, according to some reports, allows those who fled or were driven out to return. It also leaves open the possibility of a future Palestinian state, a gesture that collides with the ideological red lines of Netanyahu’s coalition partners. Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich and National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, leaders of far-right factions, have championed ideas of encouraging “voluntary migration” and even planting Israeli settlements in Gaza. For them, any hint of Palestinian return or statehood is anathema. Netanyahu himself has historically opposed Palestinian sovereignty, but he now faces a dilemma: refusing the plan risks alienating Washington, whose diplomatic cover has been vital; accepting it risks fracturing his coalition, which already teeters on the edge.

Hamas faces its own existential crossroads. To accept the plan would mean relinquishing governance, disarming, or going into exile — steps that cut at the heart of its identity. Yet rejecting it risks prolonging a war that has left much of Gaza in ruins and its population in humanitarian crisis. Hamas has said it has not received a formal new offer through Egypt or Qatar, the two principal mediators, but its armed wing has already warned that it has lost contact with fighters holding two hostages. For a movement that has defined itself through resistance, laying down arms is almost unimaginable. Still, for a population desperate for relief, continued defiance may undermine Hamas’s legitimacy.

The Palestinian Authority, too, is in an awkward position. The plan holds out the possibility of it returning to govern Gaza after reforms. Yet the PA is deeply unpopular among Palestinians, seen as corrupt and overly compliant with Israel. Taking charge under U.S. and Israeli auspices could reinforce that perception, but refusing risks being sidelined from Gaza’s future altogether. For President Mahmoud Abbas, the choice is between an opportunity to reassert relevance and a trap that could further discredit his authority.

Meanwhile, Trump’s motivations are as political as they are strategic. A Gaza ceasefire and hostage release would allow him to present himself as a peacemaker heading into the election season, while reassuring Arab allies and donors. His team has emphasized the need to prevent Israeli annexation of the West Bank, even as they accommodate Israel’s demand for long-term security control in Gaza. Installing an international authority led by a familiar figure like Blair could make the plan more palatable in Western capitals, even if it stirs suspicion in the region. For Trump, the victory is in optics: hostages home, bombs silent, and American leadership on display.

Yet the obstacles are formidable. Disarmament is the most obvious sticking point — Hamas will not accept it, Israel will not compromise on it, and “offensive weapons” is a vague formula unlikely to satisfy either side. Israeli security control over Gaza’s borders risks being seen internationally as continued occupation. The question of what to do with Hamas’s leadership — exile, amnesty, or elimination — is unresolved. The legitimacy of GITA is in doubt, especially if dominated by outsiders. Reconstruction funding must be secured and insulated against corruption, with Gulf donors demanding transparency. And in Israel, Netanyahu’s coalition could collapse if far-right partners withdraw support over any gesture toward Palestinian statehood.

Regional buy-in is another uncertainty. Egypt wants to prevent instability spilling across its border. Qatar wants to protect its role as a mediator. Saudi Arabia and the Gulf states could bankroll reconstruction, but only if Palestinian rights are preserved to some degree. Without regional support, the plan cannot proceed.

The paradox of the proposal is that its detail may be its undoing. Twenty-one points provide twenty-one opportunities for disagreement. Middle East peace initiatives have rarely failed for lack of ideas; they have failed because too many actors hold too many vetoes. Trump’s plan may prove no exception. Still, after nearly two years of war, even an imperfect ceasefire that brings food, water, and medicine into Gaza could offer a desperately needed reprieve.