The fragile ceasefire in Gaza has sparked intense debates and heated arguments—who gets the credit for finally bringing peace, and who bears the blame for the agonizing delay? It's a moment that's both hopeful and contentious, leaving everyone wondering about the real drivers behind this hard-won pause in hostilities. But here's where it gets controversial: Was President Donald Trump's recent pressure on Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu the game-changer, or did his earlier backing of Netanyahu's decision to restart the war play a bigger role by pushing Hamas into concessions?
On the flip side, could Hamas have been open to a similar deal for over a year, making Israel the stubborn holdout? Or did fresh, intense diplomatic squeezes from Qatar, Egypt, and Turkey in the past few days finally force Hamas to budge? These questions aren't just academic—they cut to the heart of global politics and personal loyalties.
Moreover, does this ceasefire highlight shortcomings in President Joe Biden's approach, perhaps for not applying enough pressure on Netanyahu? Or is it essentially a rerun of the January ceasefire under Biden, which Netanyahu's March war resumption, with Trump's encouragement, derailed for no clear benefit? All these conflicting views are being championed by folks with their own political, national, and ideological leanings, turning the conversation into a partisan battlefield.
Yet, if we dig deeper, some common threads emerge among these stories—and some glaring contradictions that reveal a lot. And this is the part most people miss: Both Hamas and Netanyahu made significant concessions, despite their long-standing stalemates.
For two grueling years, talks for ceasefires have stumbled or collapsed because Israel and Hamas couldn't align on crucial timelines and details. When exactly would Israel pull out its troops and commit fully to ending the conflict? At what point would Hamas release the hostages, and what Palestinian prisoners would Israel free in exchange? What shape would postwar Gaza take, and would Hamas agree to disarm and step aside for other authorities? These sticking points kept the suffering going, including widespread civilian hardship in Gaza.
Critics of Netanyahu point to him as the primary obstacle, accusing him of repeatedly blocking or undermining peace efforts. They claim Hamas had been ready for months or even years to hand back the hostages in return for an end to the war, but Israel, under Netanyahu's leadership, chose more military action instead. This, they argue, stemmed partly from pressure from his far-right coalition partners who could oust him, and from his own legal risks, which made him desperate to stay in power. In their view, only a stronger external force—like the United States—could compel Netanyahu to relent.
Netanyahu's supporters, however, defend his strategy by saying the war aimed to prevent a repeat of the October 7 atrocities, ultimately protecting Israel's security. They emphasize that dismantling Hamas's power and ensuring its disarmament were non-negotiable. Without that, no deal could be truly acceptable. According to them, Hamas dragged its feet, and only through military pressure—weakening Hamas and its international allies like Iran and Hezbollah—did the group finally compromise.
While these perspectives differ sharply in tone and who they fault, they converge on one key idea: The war dragged on because Netanyahu believed more Israeli force could either force Hamas into bigger concessions or defeat them outright. To stop it, either Netanyahu, Hamas, or both had to change course. And in the lead-up to this ceasefire, that's precisely what happened.
Hamas, for instance, consented to free all surviving hostages immediately, without demanding a full Israeli withdrawal timeline—a stance they'd fiercely resisted for so long. They've followed through, releasing the hostages after a partial troop pullback (though Israel still controls about 53 percent of Gaza, with plans for further retreats in coming phases).
Netanyahu, meanwhile, endorsed the ceasefire despite Hamas not being fully vanquished, and despite his doubts about the group's willingness to disarm and cede control as promised. Hamas's agreement even included caveats, and recent images of Hamas fighters publicly executing suspected collaborators in Gaza City have only fueled skepticism about their true intentions.
So, what prompted Netanyahu to shift? And this is the part most people miss: Reports suggest a pivotal moment was Israel's botched strike on Hamas negotiators in Qatar last month, which disrupted the war's momentum.
Up until then, Netanyahu had been ramping up aggressive operations across the region, achieving what seemed like victories: Eliminating a Hamas leader in Iran, the notorious pager explosions and blows against Hezbollah, and even a brief but intense conflict with Iran in June. But the Qatar attack backfired spectacularly—it didn't hit its targets and enraged Qatar, other Gulf states, and crucially, Trump.
Eight months prior, during the transition from Biden's administration, Trump helped broker a ceasefire that fizzled out. When Netanyahu scrapped it in March, Trump supported him, granting leeway and even participating in the Iran strikes. However, the Qatar incident crossed a line for Trump, straining his relationships with Gulf nations and his economic interests there. Instead of weakening Hamas, it motivated Trump to push harder for closure.
He ratcheted up pressure on Netanyahu through public statements and private talks. An Axios report cites a source saying Trump warned Netanyahu that his peace plan was non-negotiable: 'Take it or leave it—but leaving it means we abandon you.' This paints Trump as a decisive force. But was he really willing to sever support for Israel, and did Netanyahu genuinely fear his threats?
A counter-narrative suggests that after two exhausting years, Netanyahu and Israel were primed to conclude the war. Through the series of attacks, culminating in the Qatar strike and Gaza operations, Netanyahu demonstrated to Israelis—and his hardline coalition—that he'd fought fiercely. He could also claim security wins, like killing numerous Hamas leaders, crippling Hezbollah, and striking Iran, even as Israel's global image suffered.
His defenders contend the new deal surpasses past Hamas offers: It secures the hostages' return while giving Netanyahu options to resume fighting if Hamas reneges—potentially with U.S. aid. Trump himself vowed if Hamas doesn't disarm, 'we will disarm them.' So, was this purely Trump's arm-twisting, or had Netanyahu become amenable to it? The answer could reveal if stronger pressure from Biden earlier might have ended the war sooner.
But Netanyahu wasn't alone in adapting—Hamas did too, in equally surprising ways.
Hamas's tactic had always been to withhold the hostages until the war ended completely, as reported by Jeremy Scahill of Drop Site News. They saw the hostages as leverage and weren't keen to surrender it. By releasing them upfront, they forfeited that edge.
The Wall Street Journal's Jared Malsin and Summer Said detailed how Qatar, Egypt, and Turkey pressured Hamas into an unwanted deal. Quoting insiders, they said these nations threatened to evict Hamas's leadership from Qatar and Turkey, and halt Egypt's advocacy for Hamas's role in Gaza's future governance if they refused.
If accurate, Hamas was cornered—but they were vulnerable due to the war's toll. Losses of key leaders, fighters, and civilians; Hezbollah's devastation; Syria's regime collapse; and Iran's hits signaled no rescue was coming. Holding out would only worsen their plight.
Thus, Hamas surrendered the hostages and agreed to disarm, despite reservations. Time will tell if this agreement endures.
In wrapping up, this ceasefire raises provocative questions: Did Trump's involvement truly make the difference, or is credit more evenly shared—or perhaps owed elsewhere? Was Hamas's willingness overlooked, or was their shift inevitable under duress? And does this vindicate or challenge Biden's approach? Share your thoughts in the comments—what do you think drove the change, and who deserves the praise or blame? Do you see this as a step toward lasting peace, or a temporary pause that could unravel? Let's discuss!