If Hamas rejects the deal, Netanyahu will have our full backing to destroy them.
In Washington, Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu unveiled a 20-point framework for ending the Gaza war — a plan that promises ceasefire, hostage returns, and regional normalization, yet rests its entire weight on the consent of the very party it seeks to dismantle. History has long known such moments: grand architectures of peace constructed around the silence of those who have not yet spoken. The proposal reflects both the ambition of statecraft and its oldest limitation — that agreements require the agreement of all who must live by them.
- Two years after the October 7 attack, Trump and Netanyahu announced a sweeping 20-point plan demanding Hamas surrender governance of Gaza in exchange for a ceasefire and prisoner releases.
- The plan excludes Hamas from any future political role, replacing it with a technocratic committee overseen by a Trump-chaired Board of Peace — terms that amount to asking the group to sign its own political death warrant.
- Hamas had not seen the proposal when it was announced, and Palestinian factions swiftly condemned it as a farce, while Gaza's exhausted residents expressed deep skepticism about its intentions.
- Multiple Muslim-majority nations — Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Turkey, and others — have signaled readiness to engage, lending the framework rare regional weight and raising the stakes of Hamas's response.
- Trump warned that rejection would bring Netanyahu 'full backing' to destroy Hamas militarily, leaving the plan suspended between a diplomatic breakthrough and a trigger for intensified war.
On a September afternoon in Washington, Trump and Netanyahu announced what they called a historic framework to end the Gaza war. The 20-point plan promised an immediate ceasefire, the return of hostages and remains within 72 hours, the release of nearly 2,000 Palestinian prisoners, and Gaza's reconstruction under a technocratic Palestinian committee — all overseen by a Board of Peace chaired by Trump himself, with figures including former British Prime Minister Tony Blair.
But the plan carried a condition that shadowed its ambitions: Hamas would have to accept it. The framework explicitly barred the militant group from any future governance role in Gaza — territory it had controlled for nearly two decades. For Hamas, acceptance would mean political self-erasure. The group had not yet seen the proposal when the announcement was made.
Trump framed the plan as part of a broader vision for Middle East normalization, noting that Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Jordan, Turkey, and others had signaled support. He also made the alternative plain: if Hamas refused, Netanyahu would have full American backing to destroy the group militarily.
Netanyahu arrived at the meeting under strain. Trump had publicly rebuked him weeks earlier over a strike in Doha that killed a Qatari serviceman, and had warned against West Bank annexation. But a phone call that morning — arranged by Trump between Netanyahu and Qatar's prime minister — appeared to ease the tension. Netanyahu expressed regret over the strike, and the three nations agreed to form a trilateral security working group. The Israeli shekel rose on the news.
Skepticism arrived quickly. Hamas said it would need to study the proposal carefully. Islamic Jihad called it a recipe for continued aggression. Palestinians in Gaza, worn down by two years of war, described it as a ploy — a mechanism to recover Israeli hostages without delivering real peace. The plan's exclusion of elected Palestinian leadership in favor of an appointed committee deepened those doubts.
Whether the announcement of September 29 becomes a turning point depends entirely on a decision Hamas has not yet made — and on whether the architecture of peace can hold when built around the silence of those it most needs to reach.
On a September afternoon in Washington, Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu stood before cameras to announce what they called a historic framework for ending the war in Gaza. The 20-point plan, they said, would halt the fighting immediately if both Israel and Hamas agreed to its terms. Hostages and the remains of the dead would return within 72 hours. Nearly 2,000 Palestinian prisoners held by Israel would be released. Israel would retain security control but would not occupy or annex the territory. It was, by their telling, a comprehensive reset after two years of conflict that began with Hamas's October 7, 2023 attack on Israel.
But the plan carried a condition that undercut its promise of peace: Hamas would have to accept it. The militant group, which sparked the war, had not yet seen the proposal when Trump and Netanyahu made their announcement. More fundamentally, the framework explicitly barred Hamas from any role in Gaza's future governance. Instead, a technocratic Palestinian committee would manage day-to-day services, overseen by a Board of Peace chaired by Trump himself, with participation from other world leaders including former British Prime Minister Tony Blair. For Hamas to accept these terms would mean surrendering the political power it had held in Gaza for nearly two decades.
Trump made clear what would happen if Hamas refused. "If Hamas rejects the deal," he said, "then Netanyahu will have our full backing to destroy the militant group." The warning was direct: accept the plan or face intensified military operations with American support. Yet Trump also framed the proposal as part of something larger—a broader normalization between Israel and Arab states that he had been cultivating. He spoke of "eternal peace in the Middle East" and noted that leaders from Egypt, Jordan, the United Arab Emirates, Turkey, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Indonesia, and Pakistan had signaled their readiness to engage with the agreement.
Netanyahu, for his part, said the plan achieved Israel's war aims while allowing the country to maintain security responsibility in Gaza indefinitely. He had entered the meeting under pressure. Trump had publicly rebuked him weeks earlier over a strike on Doha that killed a Qatari serviceman, and had warned that he would not permit Israel to annex the West Bank. The relationship between the two leaders, once seamless, had grown tense. But on this day, Netanyahu appeared to accept Trump's framework. The Israeli shekel jumped in value on the news.
The path to the announcement had been smoothed by a phone call earlier that morning. Trump had arranged for Netanyahu to speak with Qatar's prime minister, who had been furious over the Doha strike. Netanyahu expressed regret for the operation that killed the Qatari serviceman. Trump called it a "heart-to-heart" conversation and announced that the three nations would form a trilateral working group to enhance security and prevent future misunderstandings. Qatar, which hosts the largest American military base in the region and has served as a key mediator between Israel and Hamas, was being brought back into alignment.
Yet skepticism was immediate and widespread. Hamas said it had not reviewed the proposal and would need to study it carefully. Islamic Jihad, another Palestinian armed group fighting in Gaza, called the plan "a recipe for continued aggression." Residents of Gaza, exhausted by two years of war, dismissed it as a ploy to secure the release of Israeli hostages without actually ending the conflict. Some Palestinians described it as a farce. The proposal's reliance on a technocratic committee rather than elected Palestinian leadership, and its explicit exclusion of Hamas, suggested that any agreement would require the militant group to accept terms that amounted to political defeat.
What remained unclear was whether Hamas would negotiate at all, or whether Trump's threat of "full backing" for military destruction would simply reset the cycle of violence. The plan represented Trump's attempt to broker a settlement that would simultaneously end the Gaza war, isolate Hamas, and create space for broader Arab-Israeli normalization. But it depended entirely on an actor—Hamas—that had every reason to reject it. The announcement on September 29 was presented as a historic breakthrough. Whether it would become one hinged on a decision that had not yet been made.
Notable Quotes
If Hamas rejects the deal, then Netanyahu will have our full backing to destroy the militant group.— Donald Trump
Israel will retain security responsibility, including a security perimeter for the foreseeable future.— Benjamin Netanyahu
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why would Hamas even consider accepting a plan that explicitly removes them from power?
They wouldn't, not willingly. The plan asks them to surrender the political authority they've held in Gaza since 2007. It's asking them to accept defeat while still alive and armed.
So Trump's threat about "full backing" for Netanyahu—is that a negotiating tactic or a genuine ultimatum?
It reads as both. Trump is signaling to Netanyahu that he has permission to escalate if talks fail. But he's also trying to pressure Hamas by showing them the cost of refusal. Whether Hamas sees it as a credible threat or just rhetoric is another question.
The Muslim-majority countries supporting this—Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Qatar—what's in it for them?
They want the war to end. They're also invested in normalizing relations with Israel, which Trump has been pushing. Supporting a ceasefire plan, even one Hamas might reject, positions them as peacemakers rather than Hamas allies.
But Qatar mediated between Israel and Hamas before. Isn't this plan cutting them out?
Not entirely, but it's shifting their role. The phone call between Netanyahu and Qatar's PM was about repairing that relationship after the Doha strike. Qatar gets a seat at the table through the trilateral working group, but the Board of Peace is Trump's show.
What about the people still in Gaza? What does this plan actually mean for them?
On paper, it means aid resumes immediately, reconstruction begins, and they stay in their homes. In practice, it depends on whether anyone accepts it. If Hamas rejects it and fighting continues, nothing changes for them except more war.