Story Highlight :As the dust settles on this fragile ceasefire, a harder question emerges: can this pause in fighting become something more—or will it collapse into yet another cycle of violence?
After two years of relentless bloodshed, the war in Gaza has finally paused. Israeli hostages, held captive since Hamas’s brutal October 2023 attack, have been released in a dramatic exchange brokered by US President Donald Trump. Families torn apart by violence have reunited amid tears and cheers. For Israelis who wore yellow ribbons and marched weekly demanding their loved ones’ return, this moment represents a profound victory.
Yet across the border, Palestinians await the release of hundreds of prisoners, including many held without charges. As the dust settles on this fragile ceasefire, a harder question emerges: can this pause in fighting become something more—or will it collapse into yet another cycle of violence?
The scenes were undeniably moving. Twenty hostages freed in two groups, handed over to the Red Cross, then rushed to medical facilities for evaluation before reuniting with families. Tens of thousands of Israelis erupted in celebration as live broadcasts showed their compatriots finally coming home. The emotional weight of 730 days in captivity, the anguished counting of each passing day, the protests that swelled in Tel Aviv—all of it culminated in this singular moment of relief. For many Israelis, the war’s primary purpose has been fulfilled. The urgency that drove the conflict has dissipated, at least for now.
But relief is not resolution. While hostages returned home, over 67,000 Palestinians lie dead, according to Gaza’s health officials. Entire neighbourhoods have been reduced to rubble. Before October 2023, nearly half of Gaza’s population was unemployed and dependent on food aid due to a crippling blockade in place since 2007.
Today, conditions are exponentially worse. Humanitarian aid is beginning to trickle in—cooking gas for the first time in months, medical supplies desperately needed—but the underlying structures of deprivation remain intact. If the land, sea, and air blockade persists, Gaza will simply slide back into the humanitarian catastrophe that existed before the war, only now amid ruins and trauma on an unimaginable scale.
President Trump arrived in Tel Aviv to a hero’s welcome, ready to receive Israel’s highest civilian honour for his role in ending the war. His 20-point peace plan promises a “credible path to Palestinian self-rule and statehood,” but history demands skepticism. The Oslo Accords of the 1990s made similar promises, only to crumble under the weight of settlement expansion, political extremism, and deep mistrust. Today’s agreement, for all its fanfare, is a ceasefire—not a peace treaty, not an armistice. Fighting has stopped, but the fundamental disputes remain unresolved.
Who will govern Gaza now? Hamas has lost its most powerful bargaining chip: the hostages. Without them, its leverage in future negotiations evaporates. Yet the peace plan’s vision for Gaza’s future remains vague. Will an internationally imposed “body of peace,” led by figures like Tony Blair, take charge? Palestinian factions have already rejected foreign control, insisting that Gaza’s future must be decided by Palestinians themselves. Any externally imposed government that ignores local voices risks repeating the failures of past interventions—legitimacy cannot be imported from abroad.
Meanwhile, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu faces mounting pressure from Israel’s right wing to resume military operations at the first sign of trouble. With hostages home, the domestic political calculus has shifted. The question for Israel’s leadership is stark: will peace be treated as a strategic necessity for long-term security, or merely as a tactical pause before the next war? The answer will determine whether this ceasefire holds or shatters.
For Palestinians, the challenges are equally daunting. Hamas may need to disarm and relinquish political control—something it has said it would only consider if an independent Palestinian state is officially recognized. This is where the peace plan’s vagueness becomes dangerous. Promises of statehood have been made before, only to be blocked by settlement expansion, disputes over Jerusalem, and the US wielding its UN Security Council veto to prevent Palestinian recognition. Jerusalem remains the most sensitive issue: both Israelis and Palestinians claim it as their capital, and no peace plan can succeed without addressing this reality head-on.
The 20-point plan cannot treat Gaza in isolation. The Gaza conflict is inseparable from the broader Palestinian-Israeli struggle. Ignoring the West Bank, pretending that Gaza’s suffering can be resolved without addressing the occupation and the dream of Palestinian self-determination, would be a catastrophic mistake. Any lasting peace must acknowledge that Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank share a common cause, and that Israel’s long-term security depends not on military dominance alone, but on a just political settlement.
The numbers are staggering: nearly 70,000 dead, 11% of Gaza’s population killed or wounded, 465 Israeli soldiers lost, and an entire generation scarred by war. Yet there is a sliver of hope. Aid is arriving. Hostages are home. Prisoners will be released. For the first time in two years, the guns are silent. This is not nothing. It is a chance—fragile and fleeting—to build something better.
But peace talks demand more than ceasefires and prisoner exchanges. They require trust, which has been destroyed by decades of violence and betrayal. They require honesty about past failures and a commitment to do better. They require leaders willing to make painful compromises and populations willing to support them. Most of all, they require a recognition that the status quo—blockades, occupation, cycles of violence—is unsustainable for everyone.
Trump declared, “The war is over,” as he flew to Israel. Perhaps. But declaring victory is not the same as securing peace. The real test lies ahead, in the unglamorous work of negotiation, reconstruction, and reconciliation. Will Israel end the blockade and allow Gaza to rebuild with dignity? Will Hamas disarm? Will the US stop blocking Palestinian statehood at the UN? Will both sides resist the temptation to return to violence when the path forward becomes difficult?
The hostages are free, and that is cause for celebration. But their freedom does not erase the 67,000 Palestinian lives lost, the shattered homes, the generational trauma. True peace will require more than exchanging prisoners—it will require exchanging fear for hope, occupation for sovereignty, and endless war for a shared future. The world is watching. So are the children of Gaza and Israel, who deserve better than the inheritance of pain their parents received. This ceasefire is a beginning, not an end. What comes next will determine whether it was a doorway to peace or just another tragic pause before the violence resumes.