On September 29, 2025, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu made an unexpected yet anticipated trip to Washington. By then, the Gaza conflict had dragged on for two years, and international pressure on Israel's military actions was intensifying. Even the United States, Israel's main ally, was showing signs of subtle shifts in its stance. Under President Trump’s leadership, the U.S. had returned to its strong interventionist approach in the Middle East. The official purpose of Netanyahu’s visit was to discuss regional stability, but in reality, it was a desperate attempt by Netanyahu to find a way out of his domestic political quagmire.
Trump introduced a 20-point plan, which was essentially a high-risk gamble. The plan demanded that Hamas release all remaining hostages within 72 hours, including both live prisoners and bodies—about 48 people. In exchange, Israel was expected to free 250 Palestinian prisoners serving life sentences and 1,700 other Palestinians detained during the conflict. The ceasefire would unfold in stages: Israel would halt its bombings, while Hamas would stop launching rockets. Humanitarian aid would also flow into Gaza, with at least 500 trucks delivering supplies daily. A more controversial part of the plan involved post-conflict governance, where an Arab-led transition committee would take charge of rebuilding Gaza, excluding Hamas. International forces would oversee the dismantling of Hamas' military infrastructure.
Netanyahu publicly expressed his support for this framework during a press conference at the White House. He emphasized that it could achieve Israel’s security goals, particularly by dismantling Hamas’s military capabilities. However, his statement was carefully worded, leaving several points ambiguous. For example, he insisted that Israel must retain control over Gaza's borders and outright rejected the idea of a full military withdrawal. This was not merely a diplomatic statement but a political calculation aimed at maintaining domestic balance. Upon returning home, Netanyahu immediately explained the plan’s details to his cabinet, highlighting the favorable aspects for Israel, such as an additional $1 billion in military aid and economic reconstruction funds from the U.S. However, these concessions triggered a backlash in Israel’s political landscape, particularly from his coalition government.
The trip to Washington exposed Netanyahu’s deep political struggles. Having formed a fragile coalition with extreme right-wing parties, Netanyahu had managed to secure a majority after the 2022 elections, where his Likud party won only 32 seats. With the support of religious Zionist and Otzma Yehudit parties, he reached the necessary 61-seat majority. But now, with war fatigue and economic downturns weakening his popularity, his approval rating had plummeted to 28%. Netanyahu hoped that his visit to Washington would help stabilize his position, but the announcement of Trump’s plan only widened the cracks in his coalition. Key figures like Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich and National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, both extreme-right leaders, made it clear that any document that involved Israeli concessions would lead to their exit from the government.
Historically, Netanyahu had been adept at maneuvering through crises. Over the past 12 years, he had formed five coalitions, each relying on small parties to secure votes. However, this time, the stakes were higher. The cost of war was escalating, with defense spending exceeding 6% of GDP, inflation at 5.2%, and unemployment rising to 8%. On the international stage, Israel faced growing criticism. When Netanyahu spoke at the UN General Assembly on September 26, several countries walked out of the session, and traditional allies like the UK, France, and Canada began limiting weapons exports to Israel. Netanyahu’s White House visit wasn’t about securing a decisive victory but rather about buying time to prevent his government from collapsing in the fall. Trump’s plan, while attractive, would prove difficult to implement, as every step was a potential landmine for the coalition.
While Trump’s 20-point plan sounded grand, its practical implementation was fraught with challenges. The core of the plan was a ceasefire and a prisoner exchange, but each stage came with complex conditions. The first phase required Hamas to release hostages, Israel to halt airstrikes, and open the Rafah border for humanitarian aid. For Gaza’s civilians, this would provide much-needed relief, as two years of war had left the infrastructure in ruins, hospitals lacking electricity, and drinking water contaminated. But for Israel, releasing 250 convicted criminals—many of whom were Hamas operatives—posed a significant security risk, as many had returned to terrorism after previous releases.
The post-conflict portion of the plan was even more problematic. It proposed creating a transitional committee led by Arab countries like Egypt and Jordan to oversee Gaza’s governance and reconstruction. It also called for international supervision, including the UN and EU, to prevent Hamas from re-establishing itself. This was seen as a strategic win for Israel, as it would permanently weaken Hamas. However, Hamas was unlikely to comply easily. Through Qatar, Hamas responded by agreeing to release the first batch of 20 hostages but conditioned this on lifting the blockade in the north and halting settlement expansion. The tug-of-war began right from the White House.
From Israel’s perspective, there were tangible benefits to the plan. Trump’s economic initiatives, such as building a “miracle city” in Gaza and attracting investments for ports and tech parks, were designed to stimulate the economy and create tens of thousands of jobs. A special economic zone with tax incentives was also part of the plan, which could alleviate some of the economic pressure Israel was facing. The war had already crippled the tourism industry, the shekel had depreciated by 3%, and exports had fallen by 15%. However, these potential rewards were based on Israel making significant concessions, such as gradually transferring control of certain areas to international forces, which many saw as ceding sovereignty over Gaza.
Hamas’ response, on October 3, included agreeing to transfer power to a Palestinian consensus framework but insisted on having a say in the reconstruction decisions. This highlighted a major flaw in the plan: it ignored the internal divisions within Palestinian factions and pushed for an Arab-led governance model that bypassed the Palestinian Authority. Critics argued that this wasn’t peace—it was a blueprint for Israel’s victory. Trump had enlisted Tony Blair as a supervisor, despite his disastrous track record in the Middle East, from Iraq to Libya. Arab nations like Saudi Arabia and the UAE voiced support for the plan but privately feared the massive financial burden of Gaza’s reconstruction, estimated at $50 billion.
As Netanyahu weighed the risks and benefits, domestic economic data became impossible to ignore. A report from Israel’s central bank on October 1 showed that the war had dragged economic growth down from 3% to 1.2%. High-tech exports had fallen by 20ue to EU tariffs. If the plan moved forward, it could unlock significant aid and ease fiscal pressures. But if he rejected it, the U.S. Congress, led by the Democratic Party, could push for conditions that would severely limit military aid. Trump’s tweet on October 4, urging Israel to halt airstrikes or risk losing everything, left Netanyahu with little room to maneuver. The plan had become a double-edged sword: sign it, and his coalition could collapse; reject it, and international support might vanish.
