From Ceasefire to Demilitarization: How the Gaza Plan Evolved

The most consequential development in Trump’s Gaza peace architecture is not the original ceasefire, but his claim that Hamas has now agreed to move into a phased, internationally supervised disarmament of its forces in the Strip.

Key Points

President Trump says his U.S.-led Board of Peace has secured an agreement under which Hamas and other armed groups in Gaza will fully disarm as part of the next phase of the Gaza peace plan.
The Gaza peace plan has always hinged on a second-phase demilitarisation of Gaza, tied to Israeli troop withdrawals, transitional Palestinian technocratic governance, and large-scale reconstruction under international supervision.
Formal disarmament proposals and timelines have been drafted and presented to Hamas, detailing an eight‑month, staged surrender of weapons and destruction of tunnels and military infrastructure.
The public record shows Hamas negotiating over its weapons and indicating “agreement on the matter of arms,” but also contains past statements rejecting or deferring disarmament, underscoring that implementation remains politically and operationally fraught.

From Ceasefire to Demilitarisation: How the Gaza Plan Evolved

Trump’s Gaza peace architecture grew out of a multilateral agreement formally known as the Comprehensive Plan to End the Gaza Conflict, negotiated in 2025 between Israel and Hamas with U.S. leadership and regional mediation. The initial phase focused on immediate humanitarian and security imperatives: a ceasefire after two years of war, the release of Israeli hostages and Palestinian detainees, and the repositioning of Israeli forces to an agreed line. That first-stage arrangement, signed in late 2025 and ceremonially affirmed in Egypt, was deliberately narrow; it was not sold as a full peace treaty, but as a ceasefire-plus-hostage framework that opened the door to deeper changes in Gaza’s governance and security.

From the outset, however, the plan’s second phase was more ambitious. Trump’s 20‑point strategy envisioned a Gaza stripped of militant infrastructure—tunnels, weapons factories, rocket stockpiles—and placed under the authority of a technocratic Palestinian committee operating with international backing. The Board of Peace, established by Trump and later acknowledged in a U.N. Security Council resolution as a transitional authority, was designed to shepherd this shift: coordinating security, reconstruction, and the demilitarisation process while mobilising billions in pledged aid. In other words, disarmament was not an add‑on; it was the hinge on which the entire promise of “New Gaza” turned.

Trump’s New Claim: A Deal for Complete Disarmament

Against that backdrop, Trump’s latest announcement marks a qualitative escalation in his rhetoric. Speaking through the White House and in interviews, he has described a “monumental step toward lasting PEACE and SECURITY,” asserting that the Board of Peace has reached a deal for the “complete disarmament” of Hamas and other armed groups in Gaza and for the area to be placed under a new Palestinian government. Local and international reporting aligns on the core elements he touts: dismantling tunnels, eliminating arms stockpiles, shutting down weapons production facilities, and verifying that no militant infrastructure remains by the end of the process.

Crucially, Trump is not talking about an abstract commitment. Multiple accounts describe a concrete disarmament framework presented to Hamas in Cairo, backed by mediator states Turkey, Qatar, and Egypt, and introduced to the U.N. Security Council by the Board of Peace’s director. The plan lays out a five‑stage, roughly eight‑month timeline under which Hamas would surrender its heavy weapons first—rockets, explosives, and military equipment—then smaller arms, while allowing the destruction of tunnels and other infrastructure in parallel. Security control would shift to the National Committee for the Administration of Gaza, a technocratic Palestinian body, operating under the principle of “one authority, one law, one weapon.”

What Hamas Has—and Has Not—Agreed To

The most delicate question is whether Hamas has genuinely accepted this demilitarisation, and on what terms. The public record shows a gradual, sometimes contradictory evolution. When the plan was first outlined, Hamas agreed to hand over civilian administration of Gaza to an independent technocratic body and to forgo any direct role in governance, but explicitly did not commit to disarmament, insisting it would not discuss weapons until Israel fully implemented the first phase. That stance reflected a longstanding position: armed resistance is core to Hamas’s self‑definition, and its leaders have repeatedly rejected demands for unconditional surrender of weapons in earlier ceasefire talks.

More recent accounts point to a shift. In reports linked to the latest Cairo negotiations, a senior Hamas figure told AFP that “an agreement has been established concerning the matter of weapons” and that there is a consensus on a phased withdrawal of Israeli troops. NPR and AP sources describe Hamas considering a proposal requiring “total surrender” and “complete decommissioning” of arms, with the process tied to Israeli withdrawals and reconstruction. Analytical work out of European policy circles notes Hamas signalling support for sequenced decommissioning in tandem with reciprocal steps, rather than an upfront renunciation. These strands lend weight to Trump’s claim that Hamas is now at least formally signed onto a process in which its weapons are to be placed “permanently beyond use.”

At the same time, credible reporting reminds us that agreement on paper does not mean consent in practice. The Council on Foreign Relations records that while the White House has cited Hamas’s “commitment to all the terms of the agreement, including disarmament,” Hamas later insisted it never approved that provision once the second phase began. The BBC, The Guardian, and Israeli outlets describe disputes over disarmament that have stalled progress, with Hamas rejecting specific proposals or seeking stronger guarantees on Israeli withdrawals and reconstruction as conditions for deeper concessions on weapons. In short, Hamas is negotiating in the space between formal acceptance of a demilitarisation framework and resistance to its most sweeping implications.

The Board of Peace and the International Machinery Behind Disarmament

The architecture Trump has built around this process is unusually intricate. The Board of Peace functions as a hybrid: part U.S.-led implementation committee, part international funders’ forum, part security coordinator. Its mandate, as reflected in U.N. Security Council Resolution 2803 and White House statements, is to oversee the Gaza peace plan’s execution until a reformed Palestinian Authority, backed by an elected council, can assume full responsibility for the Strip. To that end, Trump has paired the disarmament push with major financial commitments—$10 billion from the United States alone and at least $7 billion pledged by other members—to underwrite reconstruction and economic stabilisation.

Operationally, disarmament is to be verified by a Weapons Collection Verification Committee established by the Board of Peace and chaired by its director, Mladenov. A separate International Stabilization Force, commanded by Major General Jasper Jeffers, is tasked with providing the security umbrella: supporting comprehensive demilitarisation, protecting aid flows, and backing the new technocratic governance against spoilers. This combination—financial carrots, international monitoring, and a multinational security presence—is designed to address the two fears that have derailed prior Gaza demilitarisation attempts: Hamas’s concern about being left vulnerable if it disarms, and Israel’s fear that militants will simply rearm once foreign attention wanes.

Israeli Conditions and Regional Politics Around Disarmament

For Israel, Hamas disarmament is not a peripheral clause; it is the precondition for accepting a new status quo in Gaza. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has framed Trump’s conditions in stark terms: Hamas must give up its arms and demilitarise, or “all hell breaks loose.” Israeli statements around the Board of Peace meetings emphasise a clear red line—no reconstruction, no international stabilisation force deployment, and no long‑term easing of the blockade without verifiable elimination of militant infrastructure. Domestic Israeli politics reinforce this: segments of the public and political class see any perceived softness on Hamas as a strategic risk, especially given the broader regional conflict with Iran and its proxies.

Regional actors are deeply invested as well. Egypt, Qatar, and Turkey have been central mediators throughout the ceasefire and disarmament talks, hosting indirect negotiations and working both channels to Hamas and to Israel. Gulf states that once championed “New Gaza” as an investment showcase now view successful demilitarisation as the prerequisite for large‑scale financial engagement. European governments, facing strong domestic criticism over Gaza’s humanitarian catastrophe, have backed the Board of Peace in principle while pressing for clarity on human rights safeguards and the long‑term role of Palestinian institutions. The net effect is that disarmament is embedded in a wider matrix of interests, not solely as a bilateral U.S.–Hamas arrangement.

TRUMP: BOARD OF PEACE REACHES GAZA DISARMAMENT DEAL

Just now: President Trump posted on Truth Social that his Board of Peace had reached what he called a “HISTORIC agreement for the COMPLETE DISARMAMENT of Hamas” and all other armed groups in Gaza, describing it as a major step… pic.twitter.com/RB1d2eYI6j

— citizenGlobe (@citizenGlobeX) July 31, 2026

Unresolved Questions: Implementation, Legitimacy, and the Nature of “Agreement”

Even if one accepts Trump’s assertion that a disarmament deal has been reached, several substantive questions remain. First, the distinction between political agreement and operational compliance looms large. Past Gaza frameworks have been announced with fanfare before the legal text, verification rules, and enforcement mechanisms were fully public, making the situation sound more final than the underlying arrangements warranted. The Gaza peace plan fits that pattern: demilitarisation is central on paper, but the instruments governing how weapons are collected, who adjudicates violations, and what happens if either side balks are still emerging into view.

Second, legitimacy and consent inside Gaza are not guaranteed. Hamas’s fighters and supporters have lived through repeated wars and see their arsenal as both deterrent and symbol; persuading them to surrender weapons to a technocratic committee backed by foreign powers requires more than signatures. Palestinian technocrats tasked with administering Gaza will need political cover from broader Palestinian institutions, including the Palestinian Authority and factions beyond Hamas, to avoid being cast as an imposed regime. The Board of Peace’s largely American leadership has already drawn criticism from some Palestinians and international observers wary of perceived U.S. overreach.

Finally, timing and reciprocity will decide whether this disarmament framework holds. Hamas has consistently linked its willingness to discuss weapons to concrete Israeli steps: withdrawals, prisoner releases, and credible reconstruction. Israeli security officials, in turn, have insisted on front‑loaded disarmament of heavy weapons and destruction of tunnels before any significant troop pullback. If either side feels that sequence being violated, the deal risks collapsing into the familiar blame‑trading seen in earlier phases of the ceasefire.

Against this backdrop, Trump’s claim that Hamas has agreed to the next phase of the Gaza peace deal, including disarmament, reflects a genuine diplomatic milestone: for the first time, there is a detailed, internationally backed plan on the table for dismantling Hamas’s military presence in Gaza, and credible indications that Hamas is at least formally engaging with it. Whether that plan becomes lived reality for Gazans and Israelis will depend less on declarations from Washington than on the hard, incremental work of verification, reciprocity, and governance on the ground.