In a tense escalation of diplomatic maneuvering, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has publicly pushed back against key elements of President Donald Trump’s ambitious 20-point Gaza peace plan, particularly the proposed humanitarian involvement of Turkey and Qatar in postwar reconstruction efforts. Netanyahu, speaking to the Knesset on October 20, 2025, labeled any Turkish or Qatari presence in Gaza a “red line,” arguing it could embolden Hamas and undermine Israel’s security by granting Ankara and Doha undue influence over the enclave’s future. This stance comes amid fragile ceasefire terms brokered in late September, which include phased hostage releases, massive aid surges, and a multinational stabilization force—elements Netanyahu initially endorsed alongside Trump at the White House but now appears poised to obstruct. The White House, viewing the plan as a cornerstone of Trump’s Middle East legacy, expressed deep concern that Netanyahu’s reservations could derail the agreement, especially as aid trucks enter Gaza at a fraction of the promised 600 daily—only 986 have crossed since the truce began, per Gaza officials. Qatari and Egyptian mediators, who urged Hamas to accept the deal, have warned that stalling on humanitarian corridors risks renewed hostilities, while Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has signaled readiness to deploy forces for stabilization if Israel relents.

Responding swiftly to the impasse, President Trump dispatched Vice President JD Vance to Israel on October 21, 2025, accompanied by special envoy Steve Witkoff and advisor Jared Kushner, to realign Netanyahu with the administration’s vision. Vance’s arrival at Ben Gurion Airport marked a high-stakes intervention, with the VP tasked not only with reinforcing the ceasefire but also delivering a pointed reminder of America’s longstanding strategic stake in the Levant—evoking the region’s de facto integration into U.S. interests since the 1947 UN partition plan that birthed Israel as a bulwark against Soviet influence. In private briefings, U.S. officials emphasized that true control demands “compromise by all parties who live there,” from Israeli settlers to Palestinian civilians and even Hamas holdouts, framing Gaza not as a zero-sum conquest but a shared zone under American oversight. Netanyahu, fresh from a meeting with Egyptian intelligence chief Hassan Rashad to discuss aid flows, offered a guarded welcome, hinting at discussions on “advancing Trump’s plan” while hardliners in his coalition decry any concessions as betrayal. Trump’s frustration, once vented over Israel’s botched Qatar strike, now channels into arm-twisting: comply, or risk eroding the $3.8 billion annual U.S. aid lifeline that has sustained Israel’s edge since 1948.

Under the plan’s boldest provision, the United States has formally assumed administrative control of Gaza as of October 15, 2025, transitioning the territory from Israeli military occupation to a U.S.-led interim authority aimed at averting collapse and fostering reconstruction. This move, hailed by Trump as turning Gaza into the “Riviera of the Middle East,” envisions a $50 billion rebuild spearheaded by American oversight, with Egypt and Turkey slotted as key partners for peacekeeping—Egypt securing the Rafah crossing and Turkey contributing to a stabilization force alongside Gulf funders. Netanyahu’s resistance to Turkish troops, echoed in recent Knesset speeches and social media chatter, underscores the friction: while U.S. guarantees protect Israel from Iranian proxies, Jerusalem fears Erdoğan’s Islamist leanings could empower Hamas remnants. Yet with Hamas partially disarming and releasing 20 living hostages—though 28 bodies remain in limbo—the framework inches toward permanence, pressuring all sides to negotiate under Washington’s watchful eye. Critics decry it as neo-colonialism, but proponents argue it’s the only path to de-escalate a conflict that has claimed over 40,000 lives since 2023, binding the Levant’s fractious mosaic through enforced equity rather than endless enmity.