Hamas has agreed to key elements of Trump’s 21-point Gaza peace plan. Yet doubts persist over Hamas’ intent and the plan’s viability
After a long lull there is some movement in the painstakingly slow Gaza peace process. All along it has been one step forward and two backwards. Every effort has been mired in mistrust and hatred. However, this time it seems that there is some glimmer of hope as Hamas has positively responded to US President Donald Trump’s 20-point peace program. But given the past setbacks it would be naive to believe that it would work and bring about lasting peace in the region. That is the reason the statement from Hamas agreeing to parts of US President Donald Trump’s 21-point Gaza peace plan has stirred cautious optimism and deep skepticism in equal measure.
For the first time, Hamas has signaled willingness to release all remaining hostages and hand over Gaza’s administration to an independent body. On paper, this could mark the first meaningful step toward ending two years of relentless conflict. But beneath the rhetoric of responsibility and consensus lies a question that continues to haunt the region: is Hamas serious about peace, or simply buying time?
Hamas’ statement was notably nuances. The tone was diplomatic, but the omissions were equally telling. There was no mention of disarmament, Israel’s main precondition for any lasting peace. Nor was there a clear acceptance of its exclusion from Gaza’s future governance, a key plank of Trump’s plan. This duality—acceptance without surrender, cooperation without capitulation—reveals Hamas’ strategic calculus. By appearing conciliatory, it regains a measure of international legitimacy and buys time to regroup politically and militarily. By stopping short of disarmament, it retains leverage in any future negotiation. In short, Hamas’ response is less a surrender and more a calculated survival strategy as it has been considerably weakened by Israel’s onslaught.
Trump’s plan itself is ambitious and unorthodox, combining elements of diplomacy, deterrence, and direct intervention. It envisions a phased Israeli withdrawal, the creation of a transitional authority, and a US-supervised reconstruction plan for Gaza. If implemented sincerely, it could indeed offer a rare relief for Gaza’s 2.2 million beleaguered residents. The promise of open borders for aid, halted bombings, and a neutral administration could bring the first real respite in years of war and despair to the Gaza residents facing starvation.
The plan though good on paper may not hold on the ground and its fragility cannot be overstated. Israel’s initial decision to scale back operations is contingent on full compliance from Hamas—a condition fraught with distrust. Any misstep, any perceived violation, could unravel the entire framework. It would not be easy to ensure the technocratic body’s independence. For the people of Gaza, even a temporary ceasefire means hope — food, medicine, and a few nights without airstrikes. If Trump’s plan, however imperfect, can halt the cycle of death and destruction, it deserves a chance. Gaza has seen enough promises; what it now needs is sincere efforts.
