Gaza Peace Deal: Between Declaration and Delivery: Can the Gaza Peace Deal Serve the People?

Professor Dr. Zahurul Alam :

When world leaders convened in Sharm el Sheikh in October 2025 to endorse a new Gaza peace declaration, there was cautious hope.

After two years of intense conflict, political indolence and humanitarian collapse, the region appeared to reach a turning point.

Yet beneath the dignitaries’ signatures and soaring rhetoric lies a more complex reality: can any peace declaration truly protect the interests of Gaza’s people, and stabilise the broader Middle East?

Who were the principal architects of the peace accord, and what strategic or political ambitions guided their actions? Have the longstanding humiliations and inhumane constraints endured by the people of Gaza been adequately addressed in both spirit and substance?

These questions underscore the critical gap between the symbolism of a signature and the realities of implementation: an area of profound concern for regional stability and human security.

To truly understand the stakes, one must go beyond the surface of rockets and retaliation. The roots of the conflict lie deeper, in decades of disenfranchisement, contested sovereignty, and unfulfilled rights.

Let us first revisit what drove the escalation. Structural Imbalance and Security Imperatives Israel’s strategy in Gaza has long rested on controlling its periphery and suppressing threats emanating from Islamist militancy. Hamas’s rocket barrages, tunnel warfare, and control over Gaza made it a perpetual source of insecurity for Israel.

The October 2023 Hamas assault was not merely a tactical provocation but also a signal, as Israel interpreted it, of Hamas’s enduring reach. The Israeli response was designed not just to degrade Hamas, but to reshape the security architecture of Gaza for years to come.

The Palestinian viewpoint on the start of the Gaza war, particularly the October 7, 2023 conflict, and that of many observers present a counter-narrative to the mainstream framing of Hamas as the sole aggressor.

Specifically, the Palestinians argue that the war cannot be seen in isolation from the decades-long Israeli occupation, blockade, and systemic oppression in Gaza and the West Bank.

From this view, Hamas’s attack was not the start of the war, but a response to ongoing conditions: Sixteen-year blockade of Gaza by Israel and Egypt, causing humanitarian catastrophe Expansion of illegal settlements in the West Bank Killings of Palestinian youth in the West Bank by Israeli forces Frequent incursions into Al-Aqsa Mosque and rising tensions in East Jerusalem Raids on Al-Aqsa Mosque during Ramadan Mass arrests, displacement, and killing of Palestinians without trial.

From this perspective, Hamas’s actions are viewed not merely as acts of aggression, but as expressions of resistance. While the targeting of civilians by Hamas has been broadly and rightfully condemned, a significant portion of the Palestinian population perceives the group not as a terrorist organization, but as a resistance force that emerged from longstanding frustration, marginalization, and despair.

For over a decade and a half, Gaza has endured a crippling blockade, frequent military incursions, and deteriorating living conditions. Israel’s repeated use of overwhelming force in response to any form of resistance has only deepened the sense of injustice.

With diplomatic efforts failing to yield tangible outcomes over decades, Hamas is seen by some as the only actor actively confronting Israeli military dominance.

Moreover, the deepening hopelessness among Palestinian youth, deprived of political agency, economic opportunity, and human dignity, has reached a critical threshold.

In this context, while the violence perpetrated by Hamas is acknowledged as brutal and tragic, many argue it is the result of accumulated grievances, systemic oppression, and a persistent lack of viable alternatives.

In essence, these actions, however condemnable, are seen by some as the explosive response to decades of unresolved injustice.
Domestic political and symbolic considerations within Israel played a significant role.

Hardline factions, empowered by the fragility of coalition politics, advocated for expansive military operations over restrained, targeted responses. The conflict became a theatre for reasserting deterrence, demonstrating that any major assault would be met with overwhelming force.

For Hamas, the war offered a chance to reestablish its strategic relevance, galvanise popular support amid growing internal discontent, and utilize hostages as leverage in the broader geopolitical negotiation. In essence, both sides viewed the conflict not merely as military engagement, but as a high-stakes assertion of legitimacy and strength.

The war’s destructive logic compounded itself. Civil infrastructure: homes, hospitals, water systems, and so on became battlefields, increasing civilian suffering. Gaza’s blockade and restricted access to supplies compounded shortages.

As hospitals broke down and supply lines failed, civilian resilience was strained, making humanitarian crises inseparable from the conflict itself. In short, this was not warfare in a vacuum, but politics, identity, blockade, and force interwoven.

The Peace Declaration: Ambitions and Fragilities
At the heart of the Sharm el?Sheikh summit was the Trump Declaration for Enduring Peace and Prosperity, co?signed by the U.S., Egypt, Qatar and Turkey among others. The text pledges security, human rights, dignity and prosperity for both Palestinians and Israelis, and expresses resolve to build “institutional foundations upon which future generations may thrive.”

A companion “20?point” or “21?point” plan, published by the Trump administration on 29 September 2025, outlines ceasefire terms, phases of withdrawal, governance mechanisms, prisoner exchange, amnesty, and transitional structures. Some Lebanese and Arab states declared the proposal a “last chance” for peace, framing it as a moment of urgency.

The 2025 Gaza peace summit in Egypt assembled over 30 countries, although Israel, Hamas, and the Palestinian Authority did not formally attend.President Trump proclaimed: “At long last we have peace in the Middle East.” Yet analysts cautioned that the declaration was heavy on aspiration and light on enforceable detail.

The document’s published version lacked robust timelines, enforcement mechanisms or clear protocols for verification. Thus the summit functioned largely as a diplomatic signal: A convening of guarantors and parties endorsing broad principles rather than a fully negotiated settlement.

The US certainly remains central. As author of the 20?point plan and guarantor in the declaration, its role is dual: mediator and enforcer.

It must balance its support for Israel’s security with maintaining legitimacy in the Arab world. The US insists that lasting peace requires both Palestinian dignity and Israeli safety. Yet US leverage is imperfect. It can push, cajole, withhold funding, or sanction spoilers, but it cannot permanently solve on-the-ground tensions or religious legitimacy.

Egypt, Qatar, and Turkey were guarantors of the Sharm El Sheikh declaration. Their motivations vary: Egypt fears spillover and is keen on Gaza’s stabilisation; Qatar seeks diplomatic relevance; Turkey projects itself as Islamist broker.

Several Arab states announced support for the framework, enshrining it in declarations. But real regional investment will require troves of capital, oversight structures, and buy-in from local stakeholders.

On the other hand, China and Russia remain as ‘Observers with Interest’. China has maintained a reserved posture: Supporting peace, urging restraint, and seeking a diplomatic role that avoids direct confrontation.

Russia too has expressed concern over escalations, seeing an opportunity to reinsert itself into Middle Eastern diplomacy. Neither has deep structural influence in Gaza, but both can shape UN dynamics and provide diplomatic cover to resisting states.

The international agencies are already estimating reconstruction costs in Gaza at USD 40?53 billion, with perhaps three to seven years required for major rebuilding.

The challenges remain with broken health systems, mass displacement (1.9 million displaced), decayed housing, environmental degradation, loss of professionals, and many others. NGOs, UN agencies, and civil society will need to coordinate reconstruction, but their authority depends on peace being sustained.

If implemented, the declaration may bring:
Aid corridors and safer passage for food, medicine, shelter, water, especially needed in Gaza’s battered health sector.
Debris clearance and reconstruction: Over 50 million tons of rubble exist; rebuilding will take years, perhaps decades.
Partial returns: Displaced Gazans could return in phases to rehabilitated zones.

Institution building: Seeds of governance, civil agencies, and judicial institutions may take root.

But these opportunities are contingent on security, funding, and inclusion.Perhaps the most fragile aspect is the disarmament or control of Hamas’s military infrastructure.

Israel demands restraint and control; Hamas insists on retention of defensive capacity. The text of the declaration does not fully resolve this tension.

If Hamas retains its armed capabilities, even minor provocations or mistrust could unravel the fragile peace. Yet, a wholesale disarmament risks deepening the alienation of Gaza’s population, potentially fueling radicalisation and paving the way for more extreme actors to emerge. The challenge lies in balancing security imperatives with political inclusivity and societal reconciliation.

Gaza’s future government structure is unclear. The declaration calls for a transitional technocratic authority overseen by a “Board of Peace” (with international participation). But governance must reflect local agency: civil society, municipal bodies, and participatory frameworks. If not, the peace will feel externally imposed and fragile.

A truncated peace that benefits elites or foreign contractors more than ordinary citizens may breed resentment
If reconstruction fails, expectations collapse, legitimacy erodes Gaza might become an enclave under heavy supervision, with limited autonomy Radical voices, frustrated by slow progress, may regain appeal.

In short, the people of Gaza may gain temporary relief and hope, but a durable “shield” comes only via legitimacy, inclusion, and sustainable institutions, not just bricks and mortar.

If Gaza finds stability, it may reduce pressure on Egypt and Israel’s borders, lower cross-border infiltration, and ease Sinai spillover.

The peace proposal also encourages broader Arab-Israeli normalisation, anchored on a Palestinian compromise rather than purely transactional deals. For Israel, the truce offers a chance to reset its international standing, soften criticism, and shift from military campaign to diplomatic engagement.

At the backdrop of geopolitics and great power rivalry, Gaza may become a stage for soft power. China and Russia may offer reconstruction funds with fewer strings; the US will want to retain primacy in Arab diplomacy. Regional states must balance alliances carefully.

If the Gaza model succeeds, it could be presented as a template for peace in Lebanon, Syria, or parts of Iraq. The concept of a transitional authority, disarmament, outside guarantors, and phased reconstruction may be recycled in other war-zones. Failure would deter future diplomacy.

The Gaza peace declaration seems to be more than rhetoric. It can be a roadmap of hope, conditionally so. Seemingly, it foregrounds principles of human rights, shared prosperity, and dignity. But its success or failure will depend on the hard work of politics, not just good intentions.

For the people of Gaza, it must become more than a blueprint, it must turn into safety, livelihood, home, and self-determination. Their security cannot rest on the goodwill of others in any manner.

The regional order will only hold if power is checked by legitimacy, and if participation prevails over authoritarianism. Between the ceremonial signing of the accord and the lived realities of Gaza’s mothers, children, and those tasked with rebuilding, lies a formidable expanse of politics, trust, and implementation.

If guarantor nations prioritise strategic interests over durable stability, or if local voices are marginalised in the process, this peace risks devolving into yet another prelude to prolonged suffering.

However, should the architecture of the declaration be upheld by sustained international commitment, and if it functions as a protective framework rather than a restrictive ceiling, thenperhaps for the first time in generationsthe people of Gaza may glimpse the contours of a peace they have long been denied.