On 29 September 2025, the President of the United States, Donald Trump, presented in Washington, D.C., a 20-point peace plan aimed at bringing an end to the conflict that began in October 2023, following the Hamas attack on Israel and Israel’s subsequent military response in the Gaza Strip. The plan, supported by several Arab States, provides in particular for an immediate ceasefire, reciprocal releases of hostages and prisoners, a gradual withdrawal of Israeli forces to an agreed line, and the establishment of a transitional administration.
During the night of 8–9 October 2025, Israel and Hamas announced that they had accepted the first phase of the plan: a ceasefire, releases, humanitarian access and secure corridors, and the repositioning of Israeli forces. This stage, the implementation of which began on 10 October 2025, does not, however, address the most sensitive issues, such as the governance of Gaza, demilitarisation, and long-term security guarantees, which are postponed to later phases. As its implementation remains partial, with several violations of the ceasefire reported and delays in prisoner exchanges and humanitarian convoys, the agreement already illustrates the gap between the ambitious objectives of the plan and its uncertain implementation.
While the first phase of the bilateral agreement between Israel and Hamas represents a diplomatic turning point, launching a peace process long regarded as impossible and conferring both legitimacy and a consensual foundation upon the Trump plan, it is far from dispelling the numerous legal and practical uncertainties that surround it. In particular, it raises questions concerning its legal effects and scope and, more broadly, the prospects and conditions of legality and feasibility of the subsequent phases of the Trump plan in light of international law.
Effects and legal scope of the bilateral agreement between Israel and Hamas
Long perceived as a unilateral U.S. project, the first phase of Trump’s plan has now become part of a framework that has been politically accepted by both parties. This acceptance creates reciprocal obligations concerning the implementation of the ceasefire, the releases, humanitarian access, and the repositioning of forces.
From the perspective of international humanitarian law, such an arrangement amounts to a commitment to cease hostilities, accompanied by specific operational measures. It entails, in particular, the effective implementation of the ceasefire, the execution of releases under verifiable conditions, the facilitation of humanitarian aid and secure access, and the repositioning of forces along the agreed line. These obligations must be carried out in good faith, which precludes the instrumentalisation of the truce and requires predictability and transparency in the measures announced.
Regarding the scope beyond the first phase, the U.S. document outlines a broader framework that already clarifies certain legal issues, which remain to be implemented.
The military component provides for an end to hostilities, which is ultimately linked to Hamas’s lasting renunciation of armed struggle, a process of disarmament accompanied by the neutralisation of military infrastructure (including tunnels), and a gradual withdrawal of Israeli forces, coupled with non-annexation pledges and a staged redeployment within Gaza (the West Bank is not addressed in the plan). These elements, if pursued, call for independent verification mechanisms and raise the question of the use of force during the truce and buffer zones.
The humanitarian component includes the release of all Israeli hostages, the release of Palestinian detainees, and a large-scale resumption of humanitarian aid. From a legal standpoint, this implies clear screening, security and transit arrangements, as well as independent monitoring to prevent diversions.
The political and institutional component, meanwhile, provides for an international presence led by the United States, including a stabilisation force and a technocratic civilian administration composed of Palestinians and international experts. This component immediately raises questions concerning its legal basis, the status of personnel (privileges and immunities), and the mechanisms of democratic control and representation, especially since neither Hamas nor the Palestinian Authority would take part in the governance of Gaza.
Furthermore, this agreement entails neither mutual recognition of status nor any modification of the parties’ substantive legal positions; it merely sets out rules of conduct for the period concerned, without prejudice to their respective claims. However, its implementation remains incomplete: the first phase does not address, in particular, the governance of Gaza, demilitarisation, or security guarantees. These aspects will require additional provisions or third-party mechanisms, such as independent monitoring, a verification timetable, dispute-settlement arrangements, and possibly guarantor roles. In this regard, reports of reprisals carried out by Hamas following the withdrawal of the Israel Defence Forces (IDF) illustrate the risk of repressive abuses in the absence of credible supervisory mechanisms.
Thus, the first phase of the agreement is likely to produce immediate effects – ending hostilities, releasing prisoners, allowing aid to pass, and repositioning forces – while leaving open the institutional and security issues that will determine the viability of the subsequent phases. The projected components of the peace plan (disarmament with possible amnesties, a stabilisation force, a technocratic civil administration, and non-annexation commitments) will need to be further defined on the basis of a clear legal framework and subjected to effective oversight in order to prevent potential abuses.
Prospects for the legality and feasibility of the plan for Gaza as a whole
The acceptance of the first phase of the Gaza plan represents a genuine political step forward. In order for the subsequent stages to also acquire a full legal basis, their design and implementation must comply with international law.
First of all, any political or security reorganisation must respect the right of the Palestinian people to self-determination (common Article 1 of the 1966 Covenants). A transitional administration cannot be established without the effective and representative consent of the Palestinians, accompanied by guarantees of participation and accountability; without these, its democratic and legal legitimacy would be questionable.
Moreover, the creation – at the initiative of external actors – of a transitional authority for Gaza requires a clear legal foundation: a mandate from the Security Council, valid consent from the competent Palestinian authorities, and/or duly formalised agreements. Otherwise, such an undertaking would be exposed to allegations of unlawful interference and, depending on the degree of effective control, could fall under the legal regime of occupation.
In addition, the idea of a withdrawal towards an agreed line must be framed by verifiable criteria (schedule, zones, monitoring). Since the status of occupation depends on effective control, a mere repositioning does not suffice to terminate it. Open formulations (such as “until the disappearance of any threat”) must be specified to prevent prolonged monitoring contrary to the requirements of applicable law. The lessons drawn from international jurisprudence, notably the 2004 Advisory Opinion on the Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, call for full respect for humanitarian law and human rights.
The continuation of the plan must also include, without discriminatory conditionality, the protection of civilians and the facilitation of rapid and unhindered humanitarian assistance when the population is under-supplied. The prohibition of forced transfers of civilians and, in cases of possible evacuations, the obligation to enable their return as soon as hostilities cease, remain central. The transfer by an occupying power of its own civilian population into the territory it occupies is likewise prohibited.
The plan for Gaza also presents several major political ambiguities.
The text of the plan does not clarify the path towards a two-State solution. It excludes the immediate recognition of a Palestinian State and refers to hypothetical reforms of the Palestinian Authority, without any firm commitment in favour of the creation of a State entity. The West Bank is not mentioned, and the non-annexation and non-occupation pledges apply only to Gaza, leaving unresolved the legal issues relating to other Palestinian territories. This dissociation runs counter to the 2024 Advisory Opinion of the International Court of Justice on the Legal Consequences arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, which emphasised the unity of the Occupied Palestinian Territory for the exercise of the right to self-determination, and weakens the overall coherence of the plan while fuelling lasting legal uncertainty.
Similarly, the plan mentions an amnesty for Hamas members who renounce armed struggle and lay down their arms, without symmetrically addressing the criminal responsibilities that other actors might incur and without mentioning the existence of ongoing proceedings before the International Criminal Court. Nor does it address the question of reparations owed to Palestinian victims, even though the relevant international framework – particularly the 2024 Advisory Opinion of the International Court of Justice – insists on obligations of cessation and reparation. A lasting peace, however, requires credible mechanisms of transitional justice (truth, responsibility, and reparation) compatible with the requirements of international law.
The plan likewise offers no operational responses regarding borders, the fate of refugees, or intra-Palestinian reconciliation, even though these parameters lie at the heart of United Nations resolutions and the long-established multilateral framework. In this regard, while the humanitarian emergency may justify certain immediate measures, the architecture of a lasting settlement cannot be reduced to a political arrangement detached from the principles and parameters of international law.
Given these ambiguities, the legal feasibility of the plan will depend on three conditions: an incontestable legal basis for any external presence or administration, meaningful Palestinian participation guaranteeing self-determination, and precise operational mechanisms (independent monitoring, verification, and dispute resolution) to prevent security clauses from turning into indefinite control, while integrating issues of status, responsibility, and reparations.
Ultimately, while the agreement on the first phase constitutes real progress by temporarily stabilising the situation in Gaza and introducing a common framework, it leaves significant ambiguities regarding sovereignty, legality, and governance. To maintain a viable and lawful course, the next steps must be based on effective Palestinian consent, comply with applicable standards, and provide for independent oversight. Otherwise, the promised peace would amount to nothing more than a precarious political arrangement, devoid of any solid legal basis or lasting legitimacy.
At this stage, the plan appears more as a platform of principles than as a detailed normative instrument. Adherence to its initial components is only a starting point: they will have to be translated into one or more agreements formalising rights and obligations, with a timetable and implementation mechanisms.
Success will ultimately depend on a credible multilateral anchoring. Without the structured involvement of regional and international actors – including in civil and security oversight – any unilateral approach will remain fragile. The sustainability of the process will depend on the interplay between the consent of the affected populations, a robust legal framework, and collective ownership of the peace effort.
