Four months after a ceasefire in Gaza was hailed from Washington as a breakthrough, the ground reality tells a different story: violence persists, the humanitarian crisis deepens, and the political architecture meant to secure the truce looks unsteady. US President Donald Trump declared on Oct. 13 that “at long last we have peace in the Middle East” and that “the war in Gaza is over.” Since then, hundreds have been killed and injured in the enclave, while the West Bank has edged toward a new flashpoint.
United Nations estimates point to more than 570 Gazans killed and 1,500 injured since the October ceasefire, including at least 108 children and 67 women. Some of the killings have occurred near the “yellow line,” the demarcation to which Israel agreed to withdraw troops under the initial terms of the deal; others were reported deeper inside Gaza. A spokesman for the UN Secretary-General said the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs received “more reports of airstrikes, bombing, shelling, navy fire, and shooting” in the past 24 hours, including strikes in residential areas. On Tuesday, two Palestinians riding bicycles were killed in an Israeli drone strike, according to UN reporting.
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The Israeli Defense Forces said operations carried out since the ceasefire have been “solely against terrorist targets,” adding that the military uses “all possible operational measures to mitigate harm to civilians.” But continued incidents underscore the fragility of the arrangement and the threats left behind by nearly two and a half years of war. The UN has logged 33 explosive ordnance incidents since the ceasefire took effect, resulting in nine deaths and 65 injuries.
Even within Gaza, violence has not fully abated. The UN recorded at least 80 reported killings of Palestinians by Hamas since the ceasefire declaration, many in clashes with rival families or in summary executions. UN Secretary-General António Guterres last month described Gaza’s status as a “lesser fire,” not a genuine ceasefire.
The ceasefire’s humanitarian dividend has also proved thin. Agencies describe the situation as “hanging by a thread,” with insufficient food, water and medicine amid winter conditions. The reopening of the Rafah crossing between Gaza and Egypt enabled some medical evacuations and family reunifications, but aid groups on the ground say it has barely moved the needle on overall needs inside the territory.
While Gaza smolders, the West Bank has edged into its own crisis. Settler violence has intensified alongside a wave of Palestinian displacement. Last weekend, Israel announced measures to expand administrative control over Palestinian land in the West Bank, moves Palestinian officials condemned as “de facto annexation” and international critics say contravene the 1995 Oslo II Accord. New rules on property ownership open pathways for further settlement expansion, which the UN deems illegal under international law. The steps drew condemnation from Arab states, the European Union, Canada and the United Nations. Israel’s far-right finance minister, Bezalel Smotrich, responded: “We will continue to bury the idea of a Palestinian state.”
Ajith Sunghay of the UN Human Rights Office warned that the West Bank is “at boiling point” and not getting the attention it requires. His warning reflects the risk of a spillover that could unravel the ceasefire’s already fraying edges and complicate any path to a broader political settlement.
Against this backdrop, Phase 2 of the US-brokered plan has officially begun, with three pillars: the disarmament of Hamas, deployment of an international stabilization force and reconstruction of Gaza. None are straightforward. Hamas has refused to disarm and continues to carry out attacks on rival militants. Israeli press reports say the army is preparing a new offensive to forcibly disarm the group, a scenario that would almost certainly detonate the ceasefire’s remaining restraints.
Reconstruction faces staggering headwinds. Most of Gaza has been reduced to rubble; roughly 80% of buildings are estimated destroyed. Yet at Davos last month, presidential adviser Jared Kushner presented a pitch for “New Gaza,” urging investors to seize “amazing investment opportunities.” The presentation coincided with the launch of the “Board of Peace,” described as a UN Security Council–endorsed body that was initially designed to manage Gaza’s transition but has since expanded into an international peacebuilding organization, with Trump as chairman, likely for life.
The Board’s design has already drawn scrutiny. Analysts Max Rodenbeck and Michael Hanna of the International Crisis Group questioned whether the body is engineered for effective governance. They noted overlapping layers—heads of state on the top board, an executive board dominated by Americans beneath, a more multinational Gaza executive board and a Palestinian technical committee—without clear lines of responsibility. The stabilization force is similarly ambiguous: who contributes troops, who pays, and what mandates and rules of engagement apply. Indonesia has committed 8,000 troops, while the United Arab Emirates, Egypt, Turkey, Qatar, Azerbaijan and Pakistan are considering deployment. Without clarity on command and control, such a force risks becoming a symbol rather than a security guarantee.
That mismatch—between sweeping institutional promises and stubborn realities on the ground—defines the current Gaza ceasefire. Disarmament without a credible security umbrella invites relapse. A stabilization force without an agreed mandate can deter little. Reconstruction without protection courts ruin. And an investment pitch, however ambitious, cannot substitute for basic civilian safety, explosive ordnance clearance, water, food and medical access.
The wider diplomatic frame is equally unsettled. Most UN member states remain committed to a two-state solution. Israel’s move to consolidate control over parts of the West Bank pulls in the opposite direction. The resulting contradiction is not just rhetorical; it shapes incentives for all sides and hardens the political context in which any Gaza arrangement must survive.
The ceasefire was designed to stop the killing, open the aid tap and create space for politics. Instead, the violence has migrated to lower intensity while detonations, targeted strikes and intra-Palestinian killings erode trust. The aid stream is a trickle. The politics are bifurcating between maximalist agendas and procedural architectures of uncertain legitimacy.
The test for the next months is less about speeches than about sequence and enforcement. Civilians in Gaza need immediate protections and access; unexploded munitions must be cleared; perpetrators of attacks against civilians—whether state or nonstate—must face consequences under international law. The West Bank requires urgent de-escalation, including a halt to settlement expansion and meaningful accountability for settler violence. Only then can the Board of Peace, a stabilization force and a reconstruction agenda cohere into something more than a paper framework. Until that alignment exists, proclamations of peace will continue to collide with reports from the ground.
By Abdiwahab Ahmed
Axadle Times international–Monitoring.
