By Ashok Nilakantan Ayer
NEW YORK: On October 13, Monday, President Donald Trump stood in Sharm el-Sheikh, Egypt—a city deliberately chosen for its historical role as a venue for Middle Eastern peace negotiations—and signed what his administration has branded the “Trump Peace Agreement.”
Alongside him stood more than two dozen world leaders, representatives from Egypt, Qatar, Turkey, and dozens of other nations. Israeli hostages were simultaneously being released from Hamas captivity in Gaza. Palestinian prisoners detained by Israel for two years without charge were being freed. For a fleeting moment, the grinding machinery of conflict that has devastated the region for over two years appeared to pause.
This is, without qualification, a significant diplomatic achievement. After more than two years of warfare that killed tens of thousands of Palestinians and caused immeasurable suffering to Israelis held in captivity, a ceasefire has been negotiated and implemented.
The first phase of Trump’s 20-point plan has succeeded in securing the release of hostages, freeing Palestinian prisoners, and halting active military operations. Whether this represents the dawn of genuine, durable peace or merely a brief intermission before renewed conflict is a question that will define the next months and years.
Trump can claim substantial credit for this opening phase. His administration moved with unusual speed and purpose. His special envoys—Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner—worked intensively with regional partners. Trump himself deployed the presidential authority to convene a global summit and put American weight behind a ceasefire framework. In a region where diplomatic efforts have often foundered on complications and competing interests, Trump’s willingness to declare success and move forward created momentum that other administrations might have lacked.
Yet even as Trump departs Cairo having achieved the first phase, the harder questions loom. Can Netanyahu hold the truce? Can Hamas honour its commitments? What happens when the negotiations turn to the genuinely intractable questions—the long-term governance of Gaza, the fate of Hamas, the path to permanent peace? And critically, how fragile is the accord that has been signed?
The first phase of Trump’s plan succeeded because it focused on the achievable: releasing living hostages, freeing Palestinian prisoners, and establishing a ceasefire framework. These objectives involved concrete transactions that could be verified and completed within defined timeframes.
By October 13, all 20 living hostages held by Hamas in Gaza had been released. Four deceased hostages were returned. More than 1,700 Palestinian detainees—held by Israel for two years without formal charges—were freed. Some 250 convicted Palestinian prisoners were released into the West Bank, Gaza, and Egypt. The images of reunions—hostages embracing their families after two years of captivity, Palestinian prisoners greeted by jubilant crowds in Gaza—provided visible confirmation that something substantive had been accomplished.
This phase succeeded because it offered asymmetric gains to both sides. Israel secured the release of hostages that had become a domestic political obsession. The government of Benjamin Netanyahu faced intense pressure from the families of hostages, from Israeli society, and from international opinion. Securing their release provided Netanyahu with a political victory after months of criticism that his government had prioritized military objectives over hostage recovery. For Netanyahu, phase one was a lifeline.
For Hamas and the Palestinian Authority, the release of detained Palestinians represented a tangible gain—evidence that the ceasefire had extracted concrete concessions from Israel. For Palestinian civilians in Gaza, the cessation of active warfare provided immediate relief from bombardment and the possibility of beginning the process of survival and recovery.
Trump’s role in this phase was real but should not be overstated. The groundwork for this ceasefire had been laid by the Biden administration’s previous negotiating efforts with Qatar, Egypt, and other mediators. Trump’s administration inherited a framework and accelerated its implementation. Trump’s personal engagement and his willingness to convene a global summit added momentum, but the underlying negotiating structure predated his involvement.
Nonetheless, Trump can reasonably claim credit for seeing this first phase through to completion. He provided the political will to conclude negotiations that might otherwise have been prolonged indefinitely.
The more difficult question is whether Benjamin Netanyahu can maintain this ceasefire and move toward genuine permanent peace. Netanyahu faces a political trap of his own making.
His far-right coalition partners—ministers like Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich—have opposed permanent ceasefire arrangements and have advocated for continued military operations to eliminate Hamas entirely. During the negotiation of this accord, Netanyahu had to manage these coalition pressures while also negotiating with international mediators and the United States. He appears to have satisfied his coalition temporarily by securing the hostage releases and agreeing that phase two negotiations would address the question of Hamas’s complete dismantling.
But here is the tension: Netanyahu has now publicly committed to a ceasefire framework that, if implemented fully, would require him to accept permanent limitations on Israeli military operations in Gaza, agree to Gaza’s reconstruction and eventual governance by non-military entities, and potentially accept international oversight. His far-right coalition partners view this as capitulation. They want Hamas destroyed, Gaza under Israeli control or dominion, and unlimited military power to prosecute Israeli security interests.
Netanyahu has attempted to thread this needle by suggesting that phase two negotiations remain open-ended, that the agreement does not preclude future military operations if Hamas violates the truce, and that Israel retains security control over Gaza. But these formulations are contradictory. A genuine, durable ceasefire and a sustainable peace architecture cannot coexist with Israeli threats of renewed military operations or de facto control over Palestinian territories.
The domestic political pressure on Netanyahu will intensify when phase two negotiations begin. His coalition will demand that he refuse permanent concessions to Palestinians, reject limits on Israeli military power, and pursue maximalist Israeli objectives. If Netanyahu succumbs to this pressure, the ceasefire will fracture.
Hamas faces a mirror-image problem. The organization has agreed to a ceasefire and committed to participating in phase two negotiations. But Hamas’s political legitimacy derives partly from its military resistance against Israeli occupation. A ceasefire that becomes permanent, combined with acceptance of international governance frameworks and demilitarization requirements, would fundamentally alter Hamas’s character and political position.
Hamas has a decades-long record of violating agreements it has signed. The organization has used ceasefires in the past as tactical pauses to rearm and regroup before renewed conflict.
International observers and Israeli security services have legitimate concerns about whether Hamas will genuinely disarm and accept demilitarization, or whether it will use the ceasefire period to reconstitute its military capacity.
Additionally, Hamas’s governance capacity is severely limited. The organization emerged from two years of warfare with its command structures partially destroyed, its military capability degraded, and its social service capacity devastated. Managing Gaza’s civilian administration, reconstruction, security forces, and international relations would require competence that Hamas has not demonstrated.
There are also factional tensions within and around Hamas. Splinter groups, rival Palestinian factions, and international terrorist designations all complicate Hamas’s ability to speak with a single voice and implement commitments. If hardline elements within or outside Hamas choose to reject the ceasefire and resume operations, the organization’s formal commitments become meaningless.
The spectacle of the Sharmel-Sheikh summit—with more than two dozen nations represented—creates an impression of broad regional consensus. Yet beneath this appearance of unity, significant skepticism and divergence exist among Arab states.
Notably absent from the summit were the heads of state of two of the region’s most powerful nations: Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and the United Arab Emirates’ Mohamed bin Zayed. Both dispatched senior officials but did not attend personally. This absence carries meaning. Both countries have grown “increasingly disenchanted” with Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu’s approach and both have invested heavily in Palestinian statehood as a diplomatic priority.
Saudi Arabia and the UAE have become convinced that Netanyahu is not genuinely committed to Palestinian self-determination or a path toward a two-state solution. They view Trump’s reluctance to endorse a permanent two-state arrangement (evident in his vague statements about “one state” or “two state” solutions) as evidence that American commitment to Palestinian political rights remains limited. If this perception hardens, these wealthy, influential Gulf states could withdraw support for the accord, making its implementation substantially more difficult.
Egypt and Qatar, the key mediators, have committed themselves to the ceasefire process. But Egypt faces internal challenges—reconstruction pressure, refugee flows from Gaza, security concerns in the Sinai Peninsula. Qatar’s role as mediator depends on maintaining relationships with both Israel and Hamas, a balancing act that becomes increasingly precarious if phase two negotiations intensify tensions.
Turkey, represented by President Erdogan at the summit, has its own strategic interests. Turkey has maintained communication channels with Hamas and Palestinian factions. Erdogan’s participation signals Turkey’s willingness to engage, but Turkey also maintains ambitions in Eastern Mediterranean politics and regional influence that may not align perfectly with American or Israeli interests.
The reality is that Arab support for this peace accord is conditional and contingent. It rests on the assumption that phase two will produce genuine movement toward Palestinian statehood, Israeli security commitments, and reconstruction. If phase two stalls, if negotiations prove fruitless, or if the process appears to entrench Israeli advantages, Arab states could withdraw from the consensus rapidly.
Phase one succeeded because it involved concrete, verifiable transactions: hostages exchanged, prisoners released, ceasefire implemented. Phase two will be exponentially more difficult because it requires addressing fundamental questions that have resisted resolution for decades.
Trump’s 20-point plan calls for Gaza’s demilitarization, the establishment of a “Board of Peace” (an international governance body), reconstruction funding, and eventual permanent peace arrangements. The plan is vague on crucial details. Who exactly comprises the Board of Peace? What are its powers? How is Gaza governed in the interim? What happens to Hamas’s political role? What security arrangements ensure Israeli interests? How is Palestinian statehood addressed?
These questions reveal the deep structural problems that make Middle Eastern peace so elusive. Israel demands security guarantees that it fears Palestinians cannot provide. Palestinians demand political self-determination that Israel fears will threaten Israeli security. International actors have divergent interests. Historical grievances and competing narratives complicate every negotiation.
Trump has suggested that phase two “has already started,” but this appears to be diplomatic optimism rather than reality. The real phase two negotiations will begin now, and they will confront obstacles far more substantial than phase one.
The ceasefire accord is genuinely fragile. It depends on multiple actors maintaining commitment to implementation despite domestic political pressures that work against it. It assumes that both Israeli and Palestinian leadership will subordinate nationalist ambitions to international agreements. It requires that Arab states maintain support despite competing interests. It assumes that the international community will sustain engagement and provide reconstruction funding despite other global priorities.
Each of these assumptions is contestable. Netanyahu’s coalition could fracture if he moves too far toward Palestinian concessions. Hamas could splinter if hardline elements reject the agreement. Arab states could withdraw if Palestinian interests are perceived as sacrificed. International momentum could dissipate if phase two negotiations drag on inconclusively.
The accord is also vulnerable to spoiler actors—those with interest in seeing the peace process fail. Extremist groups on both Israeli and Palestinian sides have incentive to perpetrate attacks that undermine confidence in the process. Regional powers hostile to American influence could intervene to destabilize the accord.
Trump has achieved something real: he has negotiated a ceasefire that has halted active warfare, released hostages and prisoners, and created a framework for negotiations. This is not nothing. For the people in Gaza and Israel who have experienced two years of devastating conflict, the cessation of warfare represents a genuine and substantial achievement.
But this achievement is phase one. The harder work—building permanent peace, restructuring Palestinian governance, addressing security concerns, achieving Israeli-Palestinian reconciliation—remains ahead. Trump’s success in phase one should not be mistaken for success in phase two. The accord’s fragility suggests that the probability of achieving genuine, durable peace remains uncertain.
What Trump has done is to create a moment of possibility. Whether that moment becomes a turning point or merely a pause in ongoing conflict will be determined in the months and years ahead, in the grinding work of implementing phase two, in the political will of Netanyahu and Palestinian leadership, and in the commitment of the international community to sustaining engagement.
For now, the ceasefire holds. Hostages are home. Prisoners are free. But the real test of whether Trump’s diplomatic gambit has produced peace or merely purchased time remains to be seen. (IPA Service)
