What Putin’s Visit to India Really Achieved
December 12, 2025
Maryyum Masood
On 29 September 2025 at the White House, President Donald Trump unveiled a 20-point proposal to end the Gaza war, casting it as a “ceasefire-plus” framework. Substantively, the plan pivots on an exchange-driven ceasefire. Within 72 hours of Israel’s acceptance, all Israeli hostages, alive and deceased, would be returned, in parallel with a large Palestinian prisoner release (roughly 1,700 detainees plus about 250 serving life terms).
Israeli military operations would pause, and forces would reposition in phases to designated areas rather than withdraw immediately. The sequencing is meant to deliver rapid humanitarian relief and de-escalation while preventing a security vacuum. Yet the same mechanics expose the plan’s fragility; the intended symmetry is clear in the text and reporting, but implementation still turns on one decisive contingency – Hamas agreement.
On governance, the plan proposes a technocratic Palestinian committee running Gaza under the supervision of an international “Board of Peace,” chaired by Trump and reportedly including figures such as Tony Blair. Hamas would be excluded from post-war governance; members who disarm could receive amnesty, while those seeking exile would be granted “safe passage” to countries willing to host them. As per the plan, this design aims to “de-radicalize” Gaza while restoring basic administration and services. However, it raises serious legitimacy questions: external supervision, reliance on high-profile individuals, and the exclusion of Hamas may produce a governance deficit unless Palestinian ownership is clearly defined and tied to a firm timeline.
Security provisions in the plan extend beyond disarmament. They include a US-led international stabilization force and external support for security-sector reform, both standard features of post-conflict arrangements since the 1990s. Their utility lies in constraining spoilers and raising professional standards within internal security institutions. However, ill-defined mandates, especially those with uncertain authority, rules of engagement, and oversight, tend to trigger mission creep and provoke public resistance. Given Gaza’s complex political environment, any foreign security footprint will be seen as legitimate only if it has a clear mandate, credible and transparent exit conditions, and can demonstrate neutrality, even when Arab or Muslim actors are involved.
Furthermore, humanitarian access and reconstruction are positioned as early deliverables. The plan commits to UN-supervised aid, infrastructure repair, and a “New Gaza” economic track, including a special economic zone. But here, too, the logic of sequencing matters: the aid surge is conditional on sustained de-escalation, while reconstruction is linked to a deradicalized, demilitarized Gaza administered by reformed institutions. Without durable guarantees against re-strikes or re-occupation, the aid-rebuild cycle remains vulnerable to disruption. Although the plan asserts that there will be “no forced displacement and no Israeli occupation,” enforcement mechanisms are not fully specified in the public text.
The plan’s most contested part is its political dimension. It affirms Palestinian self-determination and eventual Gaza–West Bank integration, but makes progress contingent on Palestinian Authority reforms and broader societal “mindset change,” including interfaith initiatives. Despite European endorsements, the document provides neither a dated pathway to final-status negotiations nor a freeze on settlements, widely considered essential to avoid an interim government becoming permanent. This imbalance, precise security steps but vague political promises, repeats the main flaw of earlier deals – they created a brief calm without a credible path to a final settlement.
At the regional level, responses are varied. Several Arab and Muslim states have signaled a willingness to assist with implementation, while Hamas has stated that it is “reviewing” the proposal. Israel has signaled approval, and Netanyahu has stated that the IDF could retain a presence in Gaza in the plan’s initial phase. The early signals point to a dual purpose; the plan operates as a ceasefire instrument and as a trial of whether stakeholders will accept an interim construct that provides neither statehood nor a reversion to the pre-war order.
While the plan can reasonably be viewed as an opportunity to halt active hostilities and expand humanitarian access, it leaves major substantive questions unresolved. Core uncertainties persist regarding the legitimacy of the proposed governance architecture, the scope and duration of any external security footprint, and the credibility of a two-state outcome in the absence of dated political commitments. Until these gaps are addressed, the plan is best understood as a provisional mechanism to halt the conflict, rather than a framework for a permanent resolution that would define the fate of the Palestinians.
The author is working as a Research Officer & Associate Editor at the Center for International Strategic Studies (CISS), Islamabad.
