A man holds a placard during a protest against President Donald Trump’s Gaza plan near the US Embassy in Dublin, Ireland, on Saturday.
Credit: Reuters Photo
More questions than answers best describe Donald Trump’s plan for the Gaza Strip. No one can challenge his statement: “The Gaza Strip… has been a symbol of death and destruction.” As the fragile Israel-Hamas ceasefire, which came into force literally hours before his inauguration, holds, there are no better ways of describing the impoverished piece of land, which President Trump sees merely as real estate.
Hosting Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu—the first foreign visitor after he assumed office—President Trump spelt out his rather outlandish vision for the Gaza Strip. From a series of his remarks and tweets since then, one can gather the contours of his vision. He said the Gazans would be moved out and settled in Egypt and Jordan where they would be “better off… live very happily.” He is contemplating the US getting “a parcel of land in Jordan, a parcel of land in Egypt… (or) someplace else” to accomplish this. The US “will take over the Gaza Strip… do a job… (and develop) it into a Riviera of the Middle East” where the Gazans “would have already been resettled in far safer and more beautiful communities, with new and modern homes, in the region." When challenged with the US having to ‘occupy’ the Strip and put boots on the ground, President Trump declared that the Strip “would be turned over to the United States by Israel at the conclusion of fighting.”
These ideas are unusual, to say the least. Even before the 15-month Israel-Hamas conflict following the 7 October terror attacks, the 365 sq. km enclave had been one of the most densely populated areas in the world. While the estimates vary, about 1.8 million or 90 per cent of the 2.1 million resident population are refugees. Most of them were refugees from the 1948 War and their descendants. Another 700,000 refugees reside in the West Bank, the other half of the Palestinian territories administered by the internationally recognised Palestinian National Authority (PNA).
Until the Israeli occupation of both parts during the June War of 1967, the West Bank was under Jordanian control and sovereignty, while Egypt kept the Gaza Strip under military rule. These Arab states differed in their approach towards Palestinian Islamist forces; the Hashemites co-opted and dented their influence, while the Egyptians fought against Islamists, including in the Gaza Strip. Since 1967, Israel also adopted a dual approach; apprehensive of Yasser Arafat’s armed struggle and Palestinian self-determination, it tolerated and even encouraged the Islamists in the Gaza Strip only to sow the seeds for Hamas following the first intifada.
The Islamist leanings partly contributed to increasing tension and violence between Israel and the Gaza Strip, leading to five major rounds of conflict—2008-09, 2012, 2014, 2021, and 2023-25—since Israel's unilateral withdrawal in 2005. These caused massive Palestinian casualties, internal displacements, unparalleled destruction, and hopelessness. Indeed, the international community is often numbed by the scale of repeated destruction and displacements. As each side blames the other, one could argue over the responsibility for Gaza being a graveyard and, to use President Trump's description, it has become the largest ‘construction site.’
As the ceasefire limps on, there is wider recognition among governments and civil societies to end this periodic cycle of violence through a long-term vision. But will Trump’s ideas work?
Even in his wildest dreams, Netanyahu would not have come up with the contours of the Trump plan. Moving the Gazans out of the Strip suits him and fits with his unwillingness to address the refugee question, one of the vexed agendas of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. If Israel had to ‘hand over’ the Gaza Strip to the US, President Trump would have to allow Netanyahu to accomplish his stated goal of the destruction of Hamas. In short, the current fragile ceasefire would be temporary before the onset of another round of violence.
Recognising the severity of the problem and the regional rejection, Administration officials walked back on moving the Gazans out and claimed that the movement of Palestinians would be ‘temporary’ and ‘interim’ while the debris is removed and reconstruction happens. But President Trump was quick to pour water on such a reading when he ruled out Palestinians returning to the Gaza Strip. He said, “No, they wouldn’t because they’re going to have much better housing. In other words, I’m talking about building a permanent place for them.”
Trump's Gaza agenda has already caused consternation in the region, especially in Egypt and Jordan, his prime focus. While the Arab states and societies have been supportive of the Palestinian cause, there are some redlines that Arab regimes are watchful of. Some past events in the region—like the Jordanian Civil War (1970), Lebanese Civil War (1975-1989), and plundering during the Iraqi occupation of Kuwait (1990-91)—mean that support for Palestinian self-determination was accompanied by vehement opposition to hosting Palestinians on their soil. Thus, Egyptian support for the Palestinians has been marked by Cairo not accepting Palestinians even during the recent violence. With President Fattah el-Sisi already embroiled with the Muslim Brotherhood, he would not be able to host any Palestinian population.
The situation in Jordan is even more precarious. While it remains the only Arab country to have granted full citizenship to Palestinians, according to various regional and international assessments, Palestinians make up the majority of the Hashemite population. It also hosts over a million Syrian and Iraqi refugees and, hence, lacks the demographic space for any more influx. All the major players have rejected the plan, but President Trump has spurred several regional meetings and confabulations. Next week, Riyadh is hosting a mini-Arab summit comprising Egypt, Jordan, the UAE, and Qatar. This would be followed by a full summit of the Arab League in Cairo later this month.
As several commentators have reminded the world, Gazans are people, not cattle to be moved out of a ranch. Any forcible movement would be illegal, unviable, and catastrophic. A vast majority of Palestinians became refugees after the 1948 War and some for a second time after the June War. Hence, moving them out, even temporarily, is frightening and a non-starter. While some Palestinians might be persuaded to move to Trump's Middle Eastern Riviera, this could happen only if there are clear ideas about the larger elephant in the room: Palestinian statehood.
As Secretary of State Marco Rubio observed: “Right now the only plan—they don’t like it—but the only plan is the Trump plan.” Therein lies the answer. He has spurred the region and world to devise an alternative through his bizarre and outlandish ideas. Till then, the Trump plan for Gaza will be the topic of debates, discussions, and deliberations in the Middle East and beyond.
(The writer teaches contemporary Middle East at Jawaharlal Nehru University, Delhi)