By Uzma Ehtasham
US president Donald Trump’s announcement of what he calls the second phase of his Gaza peace plan arrives wrapped in the familiar language of grandeur and self-congratulation. Yet before examining the details of this latest initiative, an awkward and unavoidable question demands an answer: what happened to the first phase? The ceasefire that Trump proudly claimed as a diplomatic achievement three months ago has never truly materialized. Instead, Gaza has remained under fire, with Israeli airstrikes continuing and Palestinian civilians paying the price. In this context, talk of a second phase feels less like progress and more like an attempt to outrun an unfulfilled promise.
The idea of launching a new peace framework while the previous one lies in ruins exposes a deeper problem in the way Gaza is being approached by Washington. The ceasefire was supposed to create space for calm, humanitarian relief and political engagement. None of these conditions have been met. Israeli military operations have continued, and reports of civilian deaths have scarcely slowed. For Palestinians in Gaza, the language of peace plans and phases sounds increasingly detached from daily reality, where survival itself remains uncertain.
At the center of Trump’s new proposal is the creation of a Gaza Peace Board, a body he says he will personally chair. Its composition raises immediate concerns. Authority is concentrated within a narrow circle of trusted figures, many of them political allies or family members. Jared Kushner, Marco Rubio and Steve Witkoff are presented as key architects of Gaza’s future, despite their limited credibility among Palestinians and much of the wider international community. Rather than projecting impartiality or balance, the board appears to reinforce the impression of a closed, US-centric process driven by political loyalty rather than legitimacy.
The inclusion of Britain’s former prime minister Tony Blair has drawn particular attention, and not in a reassuring way. Blair’s later expressions of regret over the Iraq war have done little to erase the devastation that decision unleashed. His re-emergence as a figure shaping postwar arrangements in Gaza inevitably revives uncomfortable memories of externally imposed solutions that promised stability but delivered chaos. For many in the region, Blair’s presence symbolizes not redemption, but a failure to learn from catastrophic mistakes.
Trump has described the board in lavish terms, calling it the greatest ever assembled. The White House says its members will oversee reconstruction, capacity-building, investment mobilization and international finance. These are not unimportant tasks. Gaza has been reduced to rubble, its infrastructure shattered and its economy destroyed. Yet the emphasis on investment and financial architecture feels premature, even tone-deaf, while bombs continue to fall and bodies are pulled from the debris. Reconstruction cannot meaningfully begin without security, justice and political clarity.
Appointments to senior roles reinforce this unease. Nikolay Mladenov has been named senior representative for Gaza, intended to act as a bridge between the peace council and local authorities. US general Jasper Jeffers has been tasked with leading an international stabilization force responsible for security, disarmament and access for aid and reconstruction materials. The precise mandate of this force, however, remains opaque. Who will it answer to? How will it interact with Israeli forces? And whose security will it prioritize? Without clear answers, the stabilization force risks being seen as another layer of control rather than protection.
Plans for an executive council to manage Gaza’s daily administration add further complexity. International and regional figures are to be involved, and former Palestinian Authority official Dr Ali Shaath has been named to lead the body. On paper, this suggests an attempt to include Palestinian voices. In practice, the authority and independence of such a council are uncertain. Administration without sovereignty is a fragile substitute for self-determination, and Palestinians have little reason to trust structures that operate under occupation and external oversight.
Saudi Arabia’s cautious welcome of the second phase, and its support for a Palestinian national committee established under a UN security council resolution, reflect a broader regional dilemma. Arab and Muslim states are under pressure to engage, yet remain wary of endorsing a process that may entrench the status quo rather than challenge it. Turkey and Egypt’s measured responses underline this hesitation. Consultations are under way, statements are carefully worded, and commitments are withheld. The reluctance is telling.
(The writer is a public health professional, journalist, and possesses expertise in health communication, having keen interest in national and international affairs, can be reached at uzma@metro-morning.com)
