*Photo:Halima Imam*
The recent “Summit for Peace” convened in the Egyptian Red Sea resort of Sharm El Sheikh, following the cessation of major hostilities in Gaza, was a diplomatic exercise of significant geopolitical gravity. Co-chaired by the Presidents of the United States and Egypt, this high-profile assembly of approximately 30 nations—including a contingent of European leaders and key regional Arab states—was presented to the global public as a crucial pivot towards sustainable peace. They gathered to formalize a ceasefire, coordinate urgent humanitarian action, and, most ambitiously, lay the architectural foundations for Gaza’s post-conflict future.
Yet, a closer, rigorous examination—one inspired by the critical deconstruction often applied by programs like the Al-Jazeera Listening Post—reveals this event was less a neutral forum for equitable peace and more a sophisticated, theatrical performance designed to enact a pre-determined “Wish List in Favour of Washington.”
This American agenda sought to stabilize the region under terms that prioritize the security paradigm of its primary ally, Israel, while simultaneously absolving the West of its deep-seated legal and moral culpability.
The central diplomatic artifact emerging from the summit—the “Trump Declaration for Enduring Peace and Prosperity”—is a masterpiece of strategic ambiguity. Its language, which celebrated the progress in forging “friendly and mutually beneficial relationship between Israel and its regional neighbors,” meticulously skirted the core geopolitical reality: the unrelenting Israeli occupation and denial of Palestinian self-determination. The political problem of occupation was cynically transmuted into the logistical problem of aid distribution and counter-terrorism management.
This analytical lens confirms that the summit’s primary function was not resolution, but the strategic management of the Palestinian question, cementing Washington’s desired status quo under a freshly painted veneer of multilateral consensus.
The most telling sign of the summit’s predetermined trajectory was the absence of both primary belligerents: neither Israel nor the representatives of Hamas, the de facto governing authority in Gaza, were seated at the table. This guaranteed that the conversation would be safely confined to the parameters set by the architects of the summit, chiefly the United States. Washington’s wish list, therefore, consisted of three strategic objectives, each designed to serve American long-term interests rather than international law or Palestinian rights.
The first objective was to solidify the trend of regional normalization between Israel and Arab states, prioritizing transactional security alliances over the imperative for Palestinian justice. By championing “enduring peace and prosperity” in the region, the Declaration subtly redefined the conflict’s source. The conflict was implicitly framed as an issue of regional discord and instability, rather than the direct, structural result of a prolonged military occupation and blockade. This rhetorical sleight of hand is critical: it allows signatories to applaud “progress” while deliberately sidestepping the internationally recognized benchmarks for a just peace, such as the full withdrawal to the 1967 borders, the dismantling of settlements, and a negotiated solution for Palestinian refugees. The erasure of the 1967 lines from the central discourse is the ultimate diplomatic win for Washington and Tel Aviv.
The second, and most fiscally relevant, objective was burden-sharing. The colossal and necessary tasks of humanitarian relief, demining, and the reconstruction of Gaza’s shattered infrastructure were effectively delegated to international donors, key European states, and wealthier regional Arab nations. This move skillfully removes the financial and political burden from the primary actors—Israel, which caused the destruction, and the US, which enabled it. Moreover, the crucial discussion of Gaza’s “future governance and security” was framed as an internal Arab responsibility. By forcing regional players to coordinate the management and eventual reconstruction, the US skillfully subcontracts the political risk of maintaining stability in a blockaded, devastated territory. Washington retains the ultimate strategic authority—the power of diplomatic recognition and military aid—while divesting itself of the day-to-day liabilities. The outcome is the establishment of a Pax Americana whereby regional partners police the conflict’s aftermath under terms dictated by Washington.
The third, and most intellectually dishonest, objective was the use of the security paradigm to pre-empt international legal obligations. The entire diplomatic framework was saturated with the language of “counter-terrorism,” “stability,” and “security protocols.” This allows Israel and the US to justify any future, disproportionate military action as a necessary measure against terrorism, effectively sidelining critical analyses based on international humanitarian law (IHL) and human rights conventions. The discourse of law—which focuses on proportionality, protection of civilians, and the illegality of collective punishment—is thus marginalized by the discourse of security, which is inherently unilateral and self-serving.
The Sharm El Sheikh summit offered a global stage for the grotesque exhibition of Western double standards, an issue that analysts and critics have consistently highlighted as the single greatest impediment to peace.
The United States’ posture as a neutral “honest broker” is entirely untenable. Its role is that of the Grand Enabler of the status quo. This enabling is twofold: the provision of billions in annual military aid, which ensures a qualitative military edge (QME) that guarantees Israeli strategic dominance; and the deployment of the diplomatic shield via the routine use of its veto power at the UN Security Council. This structural immunity renders Israel immune from the normal mechanisms of international accountability. This military and legal complicity stands in stark contrast to US rhetoric elsewhere. When Russian aggression in Ukraine violates international law, the US imposes sweeping sanctions and demands adherence to the “rules-based international order.” Yet, when Israel’s policies—such as the expansion of settlements, deemed illegal by virtually every other state—clearly violate the same rules, the US offers a diplomatic shield and increased funding. This rhetorical dualism exposes the “rules-based order” as nothing more than a selectively enforced instrument of US foreign policy.
The hypocrisy of the European Union (EU) is more nuanced but equally corrosive. Europe often presents itself as the counterweight to US unconditional support, frequently advocating in principle for a return to the 1967 borders and a negotiated Two-State Solution. However, the reality in practice tells a different story. Europe collectively remains Israel’s most significant trade partner, and individual EU members are crucial suppliers of sophisticated military components and dual-use technology. This commercial relationship provides a vital economic lifeline that underwrites the occupation apparatus. The recent flurry of European states announcing the recognition of a Palestinian state exemplifies this dilemma. While a symbolic victory, this move is often a low-cost, performative act intended to appease massive domestic and global public opinion—a form of “moral theatre.” True, high-cost accountability would involve implementing punitive sanctions, halting arms trade, or suspending preferential trade agreements. The failure to adopt such measures reveals the “recognition” as a gesture that alters the diplomatic landscape without shifting the military or economic reality on the ground. Europe’s policy is ultimately one of “ethical hedging,” attempting to maintain its moral standing through rhetoric while preserving profitable and strategic relationships with the occupying power.
The media coverage of the Sharm El Sheikh summit, particularly in Western outlets, perfectly demonstrated a systemic process of decontextualization and the erasure of the political. The narrative was dominated by the technical logistics: How much aid will flow? Who will govern Gaza’s security perimeter? When will reconstruction begin? This focus effectively de-politicizes the Palestinian reality. The struggle is reduced from a national liberation movement against foreign military rule to a mere welfare case requiring foreign charity. The media focuses on the suffering of the Gazans, but rarely on the agency—the right to resist occupation—or the cause—the military blockade and decades of land dispossession. This results in a narrative structure that is highly convenient for the West: it allows audiences to engage with the humanitarian tragedy without having to confront the uncomfortable truths of Western governmental complicity in the political violence that necessitates that aid. The summit, in this sense, was a masterclass in narrative control, ensuring that the international community discusses the repair of the wreckage without ever holding the wrecking crew—and its financial backers—to account.
The “Summit for Peace” in Egypt was not a moment of genuine diplomatic breakthrough but a critical inflection point where the US successfully imposed its strategic wish list onto the future of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It achieved its goals: securing a framework that preserves Israeli security priorities, offloads the financial and managerial burdens of Gaza onto regional partners, and uses the diplomatic capital of its European allies to reinforce an unequal status quo. This framework is not a recipe for peace; it is a meticulously crafted formula for perpetual conflict management. It ensures the continuous destabilization of a core international issue, which, ironically, allows the US to periodically re-engage as the indispensable savior. Until the international community, particularly the European Union, moves beyond performative gestures and applies genuine, high-cost accountability—such as suspending trade and arms transfers—the cycle of violence will continue.
The lesson from Sharm El Sheikh is clear: when the most powerful nations convene to resolve a conflict in which they are deeply complicit, the resulting peace plan will always reflect their interests, not justice.
The path to enduring resolution lies not in managing the consequences of war, but in a principled, rigorous, and legally binding enforcement of the end of occupation. Anything less, as demonstrated by the Egyptian summit, is merely the preparation for the next round of violence.