Deal or no deal? Gaza in the aftermath of the ceasefire

The Gaza ceasefire agreement, brokered primarily by the United States with involvement from regional actors including Egypt, Qatar, and Turkey, represents a crucial initial step towards halting hostilities that have caused immense human suffering and geopolitical instability. Yet, a deal usually involves concessions and mutual commitments; this, however, is a quintessential zero-sum scenario. 

In this dynamic, Israel has reasserted its dominance as the occupier, while the Palestinian population, besieged and devastated, has obtained no meaningful political reassurances or advancement. Despite widespread rhetoric portraying the plan as a peace initiative, Palestinians face a stark, coerced choice: Unconditional surrender or continued exposure to hellish violence and death. 

This conflict, which has culminated in the tragic loss of approximately 70,000 Palestinian lives, has left a population maimed, starved, and traumatised. The agreement excludes Palestinian leadership, disregards Palestinian sovereignty and rights, demands disarmament without guarantees, and fails to restore essential dignifying freedoms. However, Palestinians will at least be afforded some basic rights—to eat, drink, sleep, and breathe. 

The deal proposes a neo-colonial style administration under the aegis of the Americans and the British. Donald Trump himself will chair the Peace Board, while former UK Prime Minister Tony Blair has been named to the Supervisory Board, a contentious appointment given his prior role as a special envoy failed to halt Israeli settlement expansion and apartheid-like practices in Palestinian territories. Indeed, Palestinians remember Britain’s colonial and post-colonial legacies such as the Nakba of 1948; mass displacement, and structural marginalisation. These are critical historical contexts shaping contemporary realities. 

The race for the reconstruction of Gaza has already begun, impacting international markets as reconstruction costs are estimated to reach approximately $80 billion. There are ample profits to be made. The financial responsibilities for reconstruction remain vague, with no clear delineation of who will fund these substantial costs, although the oil-rich Gulf States are expected to contribute, as they have on many previous occasions. They have built ports, airports, hospitals, and schools in Gaza before, only for these to be repeatedly destroyed by Israeli bombardments. Crucially, economic lifelines are likely to remain closed even if the blockade is lifted, perpetuating the territory’s dependence on Israel. Moreover, the proposals neglect to address Palestinian demands for state guarantees, particularly in the context of forced disarmament. 

The plan stipulates the release of 48 Israeli hostages (dead and alive) held by Hamas in exchange for the liberation of 250 Palestinian “prisoners,” many serving life sentences, alongside 1,700 others detained mostly without trial for prolonged periods. The rhetorical distinction between Israelis as “hostages” and Palestinians as “prisoners” underscores entrenched disparities in political framing and justice administration. Israel keeps resisting the release of Marwan Barghouti, a prominent Palestinian figure imprisoned (for five life sentences and an additional 40 years) since 2002, despite growing international calls. Barghouti, often compared to Nelson Mandela for his leadership and symbolic significance within the Palestinian struggle, is deemed to be a unifying figure for his people and able to negotiate on their behalf. 

The fact that the deal does not mention a Palestinian state, is a glaring omission contravening the aspirations embedded in the Oslo Accords of the early 1990s, which envisioned two sovereign nations coexisting peacefully. The current proposals seem to eradicate remnants of past peace aspirations and commitments. 

Efforts towards peace demand a context that facilitates societal readiness for ‘positive peace,’ a term coined by sociologist Johan Galtung. Positive peace extends beyond the mere cessation of violence; it requires justice, restitution, and the dismantling of structural violence as cornerstones of lasting reconciliation. Fundamental questions remain unresolved: How can a population’s trauma, decades in the making and compounded by genocide and displacement, be reconciled? How can peace be established without accountability from the Israeli side? Who will pay for violations of international law? Will Netanyahu and members of his government be held accountable for their actions? How might victims’ families (on both sides) find solace amid continued resentments and anger over injustices? Sustainable peace necessitates safe environments where radicalised youth can be rehabilitated and treated humanely. 

Sustainable peace in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict hinges on justice and inclusivity, elements sadly lacking in the current proposal. Calling for peace while perpetuating exclusion fails to address the protracted conflict’s deeply rooted grievances and historical injustices. Without such fundamental changes, any proclaimed peace will remain fragile, questionable, and transient.