Understanding ‘Project Sunrise’ as Donald Trump pitches again to turn Gaza into a luxury destination

The Trump administration has advanced an ambitious 20-year blueprint, dubbed Project Sunrise, to rebuild the Gaza Strip as a high-tech coastal hub—frequently described as a “Middle East Riviera”. The $112 billion proposal, first reported by the Wall Street Journal, is conceived by President Donald Trump’s adviser Steve Witkoff and his son-in-law Jared Kushner, and it frames Gaza’s reconstruction as a vast development venture, promising smart-city infrastructure, luxury tourism and high-speed transport.

At present, Gaza remains a shattered enclave. Officials estimate that around 10,000 bodies are still buried under some 68 million tonnes of rubble, much of it contaminated by unexploded ordnance and toxic materials. Project Sunrise outlines a dramatic transformation of this rubble into modern apartment towers and AI-managed power grids. 

The plan was presented in a 32-page document marked “sensitive but unclassified”. It sets out a four-stage reconstruction process stretching over two decades. Initial stages of the plan involve clearing debris, restoring basic services and building temporary housing in southern Gaza. Subsequently, there would be permanent apartments, luxury resorts and a high-speed rail network. By the tenth year, the monetised coastline is projected to generate more than $55 billion in investment returns. A new administrative centre, “New Rafah”, would house governance institutions and provide roughly 100,000 housing units.

Proponents argue that this economic overhaul could lift Gaza from chronic poverty into regional prosperity. They say the plan will replace aid dependency with market-driven growth, delivering something concrete where previous diplomatic initiatives have failed.

However, the obstacles confronting Project Sunrise are formidable. The most fundamental contradiction appears within the proposal itself: the plan cannot begin unless Hamas agrees to fully demilitarise, surrendering all weapons and dismantling its tunnel network. The United States and Israel insist this is non-negotiable. And Hamas is unlikely to give up its arms and its coercive control over Gaza to facilitate an American real estate project closely aligned with Israeli strategic interests. While there were indications that Hamas might relinquish administrative control to a Palestinian governing authority, Israel has objections to the presence of certain Palestinian technocrats, further undermining consensus.

Financing presents another major challenge. Washington has positioned itself as an “anchor” investor, proposing close to $60 billion in grants and loan guarantees during the first decade—roughly a fifth of the initial funding. The remainder is expected to come from Gulf states, Turkey and private capital. Yet US officials privately concede that persuading foreign governments and investors to commit billions to a territory with an uncertain security outlook will be difficult. As Secretary of State Marco Rubio has acknowledged, few investors will risk capital if renewed conflict seems likely.

Critics also highlight a philosophical contradiction at the heart of the initiative. Although the White House avoids the term, Project Sunrise resembles large-scale nation-building—an approach Trump has historically criticised. The phased strategy, which assumes security can be stabilised incrementally from south to north, relies on a level of cooperation that is currently absent. Even the initial ceasefire arrangements remain fragile, undermined by unresolved disputes and the lack of progress towards a permanent end to hostilities.

The role of the plan’s architects, especially Kushner, will also face intense scrutiny. The president’s son-in-law heads Affinity Partners, a private equity firm backed heavily by Middle Eastern sovereign wealth funds. His approach to the Arab–Israeli conflict appears heavily influenced by investment performance and development indicators. It seems Kushner and the US team of negotiators expect economic incentives to trump entrenched ideological and political conflicts. Supporters see this as pragmatic optimism while critics  argue it underestimates the depth of historical grievances and power asymmetries.

In the end, Project Sunrise reads less like a peace accord and more like a luxury development prospectus inserted into one of the world’s most volatile conflicts. It offers a detailed vision of what Gaza might one day become, but provides little clarity on how to navigate the political, security and humanitarian realities that would precede any groundbreaking ceremony. Until those basic issues are addressed, the Riviera project is unlikely to take off.