The headline moment, a U.S. president announcing a 20‑point plan, rapid agreement on a "phase one" ceasefire and the release of hostages, felt like a diplomatic breakthrough. But beneath the optics lay the predictable structural problems that have bedevilled peacemaking in the Middle East for decades. The Trump plan bought time and headlines; it did not resolve the political and material contradictions that make a durable peace unlikely. Here's why the deal was, from the start, extremely fragile, and why the region should not expect a neat or just resolution any time soon.
1. A first‑phase deal that papered over deeper questions
The textual and political form of the deal matters. What was announced as a 20‑point framework and a first‑phase ceasefire focused on immediate, transactional objectives, hostage releases, partial withdrawals, humanitarian pauses, rather than the hard institutional questions that produce recurring violence: who governs Gaza, how armed groups are disarmed (or integrated), and what political rights Palestinians will have going forward. Those omissions aren't accidental; they reflect a strategy of sequencing relief before settlement. But without mechanisms for governance reform, disarmament and accountability, a pause is just a pause.
2. Misaligned incentives and short timetables
Durable settlements require credible, enforceable incentives for all parties to change behaviour. The Trump plan asked Hamas to release hostages and to accept constraints, while asking Israel to withdraw from parts of Gaza and allow reconstruction, but it left enforcement in a grey zone. When obligations are asymmetric, actors with the most immediate coercive power can calculate that short‑term violations impose smaller costs than the gains they achieve. In other words, a group that fears existential extinction or political marginalisation will act to preserve leverage even while formally consenting to a deal. Independent reporting and official summaries of the agreement made clear the heavy emphasis on rapid, high‑visibility deliverables rather than durable legal guarantees.
3. Fragmentation within Palestinian and Israeli politics
Neither side is a monolith. Hamas is not a single, centrally controlled organ; it contains factions and local commanders with different readings of what a ceasefire means. On the Israeli side, government coalitions, security services and settler politics pull in different directions, and political leaders have incentives to signal toughness rather than conciliation. When central leaderships sign deals that lack broad constituency buy‑in, spoilers flourish: local commanders, rivals, or hardliners exploit ambiguity to mount provocations or punish collaborators. That dynamic makes formal agreements brittle in practice. Reuters and other outlets reported immediate mutual accusations of violations and continuing military responses, an early symptom of this fragmentation.
4. No credible third‑party guarantor with enforcement teeth
True ceasefires and disarmament usually require neutral, capable guarantors, international monitors with secure access and the political will to sanction breaches. The Trump plan relied on international diplomacy and political pressure, but offered few visible on‑the‑ground enforcement mechanisms. Where the guarantor is perceived as partial, or lacks logistical access, local actors learn that breaches can be tolerated. The Council on Foreign Relations and other analysts warned that while the first phase was a major achievement, the road to a sustainable truce would remain "tough," precisely because enforcement and governance were unresolved.
5. Humanitarian rebuilding without political resolution risks dependency and resentment
Reconstruction and aid are necessary, but rebuilding infrastructure without resolving who controls security, policing and political representation can create a new set of grievances. Aid that bypasses local accountability structures, or that benefits elites who cooperate with foreign patrons, fuels perceptions of injustice and feeds the cycle of violence. The deal's emphasis on rapid reconstruction, even if well intentioned, risks cementing unequal outcomes that will be contested on the ground.
Successful ceasefires in the Israeli–Palestinian context have historically been fragile unless they are coupled to durable political change, inclusive governance, and credible enforcement. The Trump‑brokered 20‑point plan achieved something important: it produced a pause and the release of hostages, at least in its initial phase. But it did not address the core contradiction, competing national projects, unresolved questions of sovereignty and governance, and the asymmetry of power, that makes the conflict self‑perpetuating. Absent sustained, multilateral mechanisms to reform governance in Gaza, disarm militant networks in ways that preserve civilian security, and provide an equitable political horizon, the agreement was always more of a tactical ceasefire than a strategic peace.
That reality is painful to accept: diplomatic theatre can create hope, and hope is politically useful. But history and the current structure of the agreement suggest the best we can realistically expect from this moment is a temporary, fragile respite, beneficial in humanitarian terms but insufficient to bring an end that is just, stable, or permanent. It seems that at the time of writing Hamas has already violated Trump's peace deal, so war may be back.
https://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2025/10/war-is-back-hamas-violates-trumps-peace-deal/