Israel bent on sabotaging Trump’s Gaza peace plan

President Trump’s Gaza Peace Plan has reached a critical moment. Both Israel and Hamas accepted it in principle, but both have already begun to test its limits. The ceasefire meant to stop the killing, the exchange of hostages meant to build trust, and the delivery of humanitarian aid meant to heal the wounds of war are all being delayed or distorted. The President has warned that time is running out, declaring with characteristic clarity that “time is of the essence, or massive bloodshed will follow.” His words now hang like a warning over every side that tries to play for advantage rather than peace.

In Gaza, the ceasefire has not brought calm. Instead of an unconditional pause to allow food, medicine, and relief into a starving land, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has linked every lull in fighting to the verified release of hostages. The sequence has been reversed: where aid was meant to come first, it is now held hostage to conditions. Even as Trump praised Israel’s “temporary halt” in bombing, the silence of the skies did not last long. The roar of jets and the thud of artillery soon returned. Crossings remain sealed, fuel is scarce, and trucks carrying flour and medicine are stuck behind barriers. The people of Gaza, already broken by war, are paying the price for a strategy that treats compassion as a bargaining chip.

Netanyahu’s government has also delayed the promised troop withdrawal. Instead ofpulling back as the plan demands, Israeli forces have dug deeper into Gaza, creating buffer zones that extend control rather than reduce it. The plan called for a military drawdown in parallel with the arrival of international monitors. Yet what the world now sees looks less like withdrawal and more like consolidation. Within Israel’s ruling coalition, many regard the peace plan not as a step toward stability, but as a threat to years of expansionist ambition. A genuine truce, they fear, would force Israel to retreat from its newly secured zones, halt settlements, and eventually open the door to a Palestinian state — a vision utterly at odds with the idea of a “Greater Israel.”

Hamas, meanwhile, plays its own dangerous game. It has released some hostages but not all, offering gestures instead of commitments. It resists international monitoring and refuses to disarm fully, keeping its weapons hidden beneath Gaza’s ruins. Divided between its political negotiators abroad and its commanders trapped underground, Hamas sends mixed signals — one hand extended toward negotiation, the other still gripping a gun. Yet beneath the defiance lies exhaustion. Two years of relentless bombardment haveshattered its infrastructure and leadership. The choice before it is stark: accept the peace plan as a path to survival or risk total annihilation. For Hamas, which has lost much of its command structure and morale, the plan offers a narrow corridor of escape, perhaps the last chance to save what remains of its movement and people.

In this sense, Israel and Hamas now stand on opposite slopes of the same mountain. Netanyahu fears that the peace plan could undo his long-cherished project of permanent dominance, while Hamas sees in it a possible lifeline. The plan’s success could mean the end of Israeli expansionism, the slowing of settlements, and the creation of a monitored Palestinian administration under international supervision — outcomes that threaten Israel’s far-right coalition. For Hamas, by contrast, successful implementation could spare its fighters from destruction and allow a gradual political reintegration through regional diplomacy. If Israel’s fear is loss of territory, Hamas’s fear is extinction.

Amid these conflicting motives stands Donald Trump, the architect of the plan and now its enforcer. He has been watching both sides closely, issuing warnings with unmistakable urgency. “Move fast,” he insists, “or massive bloodshed will follow.” He has reminded Netanyahu that the continuation of bombing could endanger U.S. strategic ties and warned Hamas that renewed attacks will bring devastating consequences. Unlike the peace brokers of the past, Trump has tied his own credibility to the plan’s survival, using both American influence and global pressure to hold the sides accountable.

The upcoming Monday meeting in Egypt will test whether this vigilance can translate into progress. Representatives from Israel, Hamas, and regional partners will gather to confirm whether the ceasefire is real, whether hostages and prisoners are being exchanged according to schedule, and whether humanitarian routes are open. If these benchmarks are met, the second phase will begin: Israeli withdrawal, deployment of international monitors, and establishment of a temporary technocratic administration in Gaza. If not, Trump may use economic and diplomatic pressure to penalize non-compliance, while Arab states may withhold reconstruction funding until good faith is proven. It will be a day that decides whether peace takes a step forward or collapses into another round of blame and bloodshed.

Yet the danger looms that if the plan fails, Israel will swiftly point the finger at Hamas and resume full-scale military operations. Its goal would be not just to defeat Hamas but to eliminate it completely, take permanent control of Gaza and the West Bank, and then pursue a broader territorial expansion toward the east. Such a move would plunge the entire region into crisis. The United Nations, the United States, and the Muslim world must remain alert to this possibility. No violation, no provocation, no act of resistancefrom the Palestinian side should provide Israel with the excuse it seeks to dismantle the plan. The world must make clear that the true spoiler of peace will not be allowed to hide behind false accusations.

If this truth reaches Washington, if the American Congress and public come to see that it is Israel — not Hamas — undermining the process, the political ground beneath Tel Aviv could shift. The U.S. might then be compelled to reconsider its unconditional aid and arms support, leaving Israel exposed to the isolation it fears most. Without American protection, Israel would face immense pressure from every direction — diplomatic, economic, and potentially military. The recent Iranian strike demonstrated the limits of Israeli power when left on its own. Should the wider Muslim world act in unison, Israel would have no choice but to retreat to its recognized borders and accept the peace it has long resisted.

The stakes are immense. For the Arab world, the peace plan offers a way to stabilize the region; for Europe, a chance to reclaim moral credibility; and for America, an opportunity to prove that fairness, not favoritism, defines its leadership. But if this chance is lost — if the plan is sabotaged through arrogance or deceit — the result will not simply be another failed negotiation, but the end of the last viable hope for Gaza’s survival. In the days ahead, compliance and defiance will determine not only the future of two peoples, but the credibility of the global order itself.

History will judge those who let this moment slip away. If Israel and Hamas honor their commitments, Gaza may rise from its ruins. If they continue to play for time, the window will close, and with it, the dream of peace. President Trump’s warning still echoes across the desert skies: time is short, and the blood of the innocent is running out. The world must decide — will it stand guard over peace, or watch it die?