The newly announced agreement between Israel and Hamas — a hybrid of a ceasefire and a hostage-exchange deal — has been greeted across much of the world with sighs of relief and flashes of optimism. For the first time since the war erupted on October 7, a structured path toward silence, if not peace, has been placed on the table. Hostages are to be released, Israeli troops will reposition to a pre-defined line inside Gaza, humanitarian aid will resume, and international mediators will oversee the transition.
It is a milestone, but not necessarily a breakthrough. For Israel, this agreement represents an uneasy trade: tangible humanitarian gain for intangible strategic risk. For Hamas, it is a reprieve — a breathing space extracted under duress. And for the international community, it is a test of whether diplomacy can truly tame an ideology rooted in perpetual war.
What the Deal Contains — and What It Hides
At its core, the deal’s first phase links a temporary ceasefire to a large-scale hostage-prisoner exchange. Hamas will release a first tranche of all the live Israeli hostages, reportedly around twenty, in return for the release of hundreds of Palestinian Arab terrorist prisoners, many convicted of violent crimes. Israel will redeploy forces away from the heart of Gaza’s urban centers to an agreed “yellow line,” enabling humanitarian access and international monitoring.
The plan’s framers — led by the United States, Qatar, and Egypt, with U.S. President Donald Trump playing an unexpected facilitative role — describe it as a confidence-building step. The long-term goal, they argue, is to install a non-Hamas, non-Palestinian-Authority administration to govern Gaza with Arab backing, thereby separating the population’s civil life from the militants’ control.
But this structure conceals an unavoidable ambiguity: the deal does not yet compel Hamas to disarm. It outlines discussions about demilitarization, but no binding verification mechanism is in place. In other words, Hamas is still there, still armed, still proclaiming — in Arabic to its own audience — that the fight will continue once conditions favor it.
Why Many Israelis Welcome It — For Now
Despite the flaws, the majority of Israelis have accepted the agreement, at least as a necessary interim step. Military pressure alone brought Hamas and its regional sponsors to the table. The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) have devastated Hamas’s military infrastructure and forced its remaining leadership into hiding.
From a humanitarian perspective, returning even a fraction of the hostages is an urgent moral duty.
Supporters of the deal emphasize three practical advantages.
First, it buys time for Israel to consolidate its achievements without sustaining heavy urban combat losses. Redeployment does not mean retreat; it may allow the IDF to reset and prepare for renewed operations if Hamas violates the terms.
Second, it internationalizes responsibility for Gaza. Egypt, Turkey, and several Gulf states are now stakeholders in the territory’s stability. Their involvement could prevent Hamas from rebuilding openly, as any renewed rocket fire would embarrass them as guarantors.
Third, it resets Israel’s diplomatic posture. After months of criticism, Jerusalem can demonstrate flexibility and humanitarian concern. The deal’s optics matter: they remind the world that Israel’s goal has never been destruction for its own sake but security through deterrence.
These are not trivial gains. They can create operational, diplomatic, and moral leverage — provided that Israel treats the agreement as a phase, not an end.
Why Others Call It a Strategic Mistake
Still, among Israelis — and certainly among analysts — the agreement is met with unease, even dread. The logic of deterrence rests on denying the enemy any illusion of survival. By allowing Hamas to remain physically present and politically relevant, Israel may have undercut its own victory.
One reader of The Jerusalem Post expressed the prevailing skepticism bluntly: “Hope is not a plan. The plan allows Hamas to stay armed and in control while stripping them of their hostages-human shields. Hamas did not give up their mission of destroying Israel.” That sentiment echoes across much of the security establishment.
The key fear is that Hamas will use the lull to rebuild: digging new tunnels, smuggling weapons, retraining fighters, and re-establishing command structures under the guise of civilian reconstruction. Historically, this cycle is not new. After each ceasefire — 2009, 2012, 2014, and the brief truces before 2023 — Hamas re-emerged stronger, better armed, and more confident.
Another reader warned that “if there is no provision for Hamas to disarm, it is not the end of the war — merely a break for Hamas to rearm and rebuild… history may look at it as the beginning of the end of Israel.” That may sound extreme, but it reflects a legitimate strategic concern. Wars of attrition, fueled by ideology and external funding, can exhaust even the strongest nations if the underlying threat is never neutralized.
And yet, there is another view — a notable minority — represented by an optimistic commenter who wrote: “Hamas has agreed to release all the hostages and to disarm while a new non-Hamas government comes into power backed by armies that support it. If Hamas breaks that part of the deal, Israel goes back to war. Sounds like a miracle.” If this optimistic interpretation proves accurate, with some comparing it to Israel's quick actions against any Hezbollah rebuilding today, the agreement could be transformative. But optimism requires verification — and verification is where most peace plans fail.
The Regional Chessboard
To understand why this deal emerged now, one must look beyond Gaza. The conflict has become a regional proxy war. Iran’s network — Hezbollah in Lebanon, Shi’ite militias in Iraq, the Houthis in Yemen — has been probing Israel’s defenses. The United States seeks to prevent an escalation that could ignite the entire Middle East.
Egypt, meanwhile, cannot tolerate endless instability on its northern border. The Suez Canal’s security and Sinai tourism depend on calm. Turkey seeks rehabilitation as a diplomatic actor, and Gulf states worry that continued warfare undermines their investment climate.
In this geopolitical calculus, the ceasefire is not just about hostages. It is about re-balancing the region. Trump’s visible involvement — controversial yet undeniable — signals that Washington’s old doctrine of “no negotiations with terrorists” has given way to pragmatic crisis management. It is an acknowledgment that even the most reviled actor must sometimes be engaged to prevent a larger catastrophe.
Yet regional diplomacy cannot substitute for local accountability. And the White House embrace of Qatar, despite the hypocritical role it plays, is cause for concern, Unless Gaza’s future governance is built on credible, non-corrupt institutions with external guarantees and internal legitimacy, any calm will be temporary. That requires an unprecedented alignment of interests — something the Middle East rarely sustains.
Strategic Lessons and Historical Echoes
Israel has been here before. Every major conflict with Hamas has ended with some form of truce or “understanding,” followed by a period of uneasy quiet and eventual relapse into violence. The reason is structural: Hamas’s raison d’être is resistance, not coexistence. Its ideology cannot accommodate the permanence of a Jewish state.
Therefore, any ceasefire that leaves Hamas alive ensures future conflict. At best, Israel can manage intervals of deterrence; it cannot achieve peace without a fundamental ideological shift within Palestinian Arab society — one that rejects martyrdom as policy and replaces it with governance and development.
That transformation will not come through pressure alone. It requires incentives for moderation and consequences for extremism — a balanced mix of diplomacy, reconstruction aid tied to verifiable demilitarization, and continued readiness to use force when necessary.
Israel’s challenge is to calibrate between moral imperative and strategic prudence. It must retrieve its citizens, minimize civilian suffering, and maintain deterrence — all without surrendering the principle that terror must never pay.
Conclusion: Between Hope and Realism
The new Israel-Hamas agreement reflects both exhaustion and necessity. It is a political pause framed as a peace process. Its humanitarian logic is undeniable; its strategic logic remains uncertain.
If enforced rigorously — with real disarmament, external supervision, and regional ownership — it could evolve into the first step toward sustainable coexistence. But if mismanaged or manipulated, it could become another tragic repetition in a long cycle of wars born from wishful thinking.
Hope can inspire action; it cannot replace a plan. Without a coherent framework for Gaza’s post-Hamas future, Israel may soon face a stronger, rearmed, and even more emboldened adversary — one that interprets every concession as weakness.
The world calls this agreement a peace deal. Israel, with hard-earned caution, should treat it as a ceasefire with conditions — a test of whether words can restrain an ideology that has never accepted peace as an option.
Dr. Avi Perry is a former professor at Northwestern University, a former Bell Labs researcher and manager, and later served as Vice President at NMS Communications. He represented the United States on the UN’s International Telecommunication Union (ITU) Standards Committee, where he authored significant portions of the G.168 standard. He is the author of the thriller novel 72 Virgins and a Cambridge University Press book on voice quality in wireless networks, and is a regular op-ed contributor to The Jerusalem Post and Israel National News.