Egyptians know all too well that when the authoritarian military regime wants to bury an issue or evade responsibility, it forms a "committee" to dilute the matter. This is exactly what happened with Trump's plan for Gaza, known as the "Gaza Riviera." When Trump asked el-Sisi to present an Egyptian vision for resolving the crisis in the Strip, the Egyptian president dodged a White House visit following Trump's meeting with King Abdullah, merely announcing that the "Egyptian plan" was under preparation to which the Jordanian monarch responded: "Let's wait for the Egyptian proposal."
There was no American rejection of the plan. On the contrary, Trump publicly expressed his anticipation for Egypt's proposal, as if handing Cairo a golden opportunity to step out of the spectator's seat. Yet, the Egyptian regime chose to play the waiting game, calling for an urgent Arab summit to transform the plan from "Egyptian" to "Arab," attempting to spread responsibility and ease international pressure.
In truth, as if I were an Israeli citizen – let my name be Asher Ben David – I find myself compelled to ask:
How can we trust a state whose president, Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, told CIA Director William Burns, months after the Oct. 7 attacks, that he doesn't want to eliminate Hamas? How can I feel reassured by a proposal from a regime whose security apparatuses turned a blind eye to the tunnels that smuggled weapons into Gaza? How can I trust a country whose religious and media institutions have relentlessly incited against Israel, to the point where hostility has become a core element of the official narrative?
Here, Asher Ben David's questions come to an end.
Trump's proposal emerged as a reaction – I repeat – a reaction after Gaza's residents, instead of demanding liberation from Hamas following the ceasefire, took to the streets to celebrate a "false victory." Celebrations of triumph amid ruins, crowds chanting for the repeat of "Black October Saturday." As Khalil al-Hayya declared in his speech about the "illusory victory": "Octobers... again and again."
Didn't Gaza's people chant "We want to live" in 2019 and 2021? So why didn't they rise up now? The answer is clear: what the terrorists did on Oct. 7 appeals to them, resonating with the culture of hatred that Hamas has meticulously engineered in the Gazan collective consciousness, a legacy that traces back to Nasser's era when he worked tirelessly to Islamize the Gaza Strip. What he did in this context warrants a separate article.
Returning to the Egyptian plan, which has now accidentally become an "Arab" one, we find its leaked provisions to the media outlining:
- Emergency Relief Phase (6 months): Opening crossings to allow humanitarian aid, establishing temporary shelters for displaced people inside Gaza, and repairing basic infrastructure (electricity, water, sanitation).
- Reconstruction Phase (3 to 5 years): Hosting an international conference to raise $20 billion for reconstruction; joint Arab-international oversight of infrastructure projects.
- Political Phase (Preparing for a Two-State Solution): Forming a temporary Palestinian authority under Arab League supervision and deploying Arab and Western forces to secure borders with Israel; launching a UN-sponsored political dialogue to explore Gaza's future within a comprehensive conflict resolution framework.
But the most critical question, which the plan fails to address: How will Gaza be rid of its Hamas terrorists and the massive human reservoir ready to fuse into the terrorist movement in the blink of an eye?
The whole world watched as large numbers of Gaza's boys carried automatic rifles on the sidelines of the "festival of swapping Israeli hostages for Palestinian terrorists in Israeli prisons." This stark image demands a clear answer for anyone seeking peace in that part of the world: How will the terrorists be evacuated so that everyone can live in peace?
We must keep in mind the recent statement by Hamas leader Osama Hamdan, who said just a few days ago: "Listen to me carefully to end this debate: anyone who replaces the occupation in Gaza, or in any city in Palestine, we will deal with them through resistance, just as we deal with the Israeli occupation. This is final and non negotiable."
But the most pressing question remains: How can I trust a plan from a regime trying to balance on a tightrope? How can I believe in a proposal that refuses to uproot terrorism but dresses it up as 'regional peace'?
To illustrate the depth of the problem, let me bring back a scene from the not-so-distant past: after Ahmed Gaddaf al-Dam's release in 2013, a delegation from Sinai's tribes visited him to offer their congratulations. When they raised the issue of displacement due to the smuggling tunnels, he candidly told them: "The tunnels were dug with Libya's involvement, and we sent the drilling machines to Arish ourselves."
A trusted Cairo-based journalist relayed this to me, fully aware that I have closely followed this file since the first Rafah massacre, when Egyptian soldiers were killed during the rule of the Muslim Brotherhood's President Mohamed Morsi. At that time, I formed a civilian fact-finding delegation, and we traveled to Sinai, spending several days searching for the truth.
And now, the scene is unmistakably clear: a plan without substance, a stillborn initiative, conceived by those eager to please everyone without pausing for a moment to consider the logic or real feasibility of the proposal.
Long ago, the great Albert Einstein said: "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results."
