US President Donald Trump thrust himself once again into the centre of the Gaza crisis with a dramatic escalation of rhetoric, issuing an ultimatum to Hamas and Palestinians in the war-torn enclave. Writing on Truth Social on March 5, Trump declared, “‘Shalom Hamas’ means Hello and Goodbye—You can choose. Release all of the Hostages now, not later, and immediately return all of the dead bodies of the people you murdered, or it is OVER for you.”
The threat came just hours after the White House confirmed a major shift in US policy: direct negotiations with Hamas, which Washington has long branded a terrorist organisation. The sudden change in policy seems to be driven by the urgency to ensure the release of Edan Alexander—the only Israeli-American hostage believed to be alive in Hamas’s captivity. It is a departure from decades of American reliance on mediators like Qatar and Egypt to deal with Hamas. Trump’s threat, however, has cast a long shadow over the peace talks, raising fears that the already faltering peace process could collapse and push Gaza into more chaos.
The timing of Trump’s intervention is important. A six-week ceasefire between Israel and Hamas, brokered by the outgoing Biden administration in January, effectively collapsed on March 1, with no extension in sight at the moment. That deal had promised a multiphase path to peace: an initial pause in Israel’s military operations, the release of hostages by Hamas and a swap of Palestinian prisoners, followed by a permanent ceasefire and Israel’s full withdrawal from Gaza. Yet, mutual distrust has derailed progress. Hamas accuses Israel of reneging on commitments, while Israel insists it has acted in good faith.
Against this backdrop, Trump’s threat to “end” Hamas has injected fresh volatility. Meeting with eight freed hostages on March 5, he underscored his personal stake in the crisis, but his rhetoric has drawn sharp criticism from Hamas. The group’s spokesperson Hazem Qassem warned that such language could “complicate matters” and embolden Israel to abandon the ceasefire entirely. He urged Trump to pressure Israel into honouring phase two of the deal, claiming Hamas fulfilled its first-phase obligations.
Trump’s ultimatum reflects a duality in his administration’s approach. The decision to engage Hamas directly, led by special envoy Adam Boehler in Doha, signals a willingness to prioritise American lives—particularly Alexander’s—and the return of four Israeli-American bodies from the October 7 attacks.
White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt defended the twin track as a “good-faith effort to do what’s right for the American people,” pointing out that the US was working in consultation with Israel. Yet, Trump’s simultaneous threat evokes a return to the uncompromising posturing that defined his first term. Critics argue this risks derailing diplomacy at a moment when roughly 24 living captives and 35 bodies remain in Hamas’s hands, according to Israeli estimates. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has amplified the tension, warning the Hamas during a Knesset speech on March 3 that failure to release more hostages would trigger “consequences beyond your imagination”. Israel’s subsequent blockade of humanitarian aid to Gaza underscores its hardening stance, a move Hamas decries as a “starvation policy”.
The US finds itself caught in a diplomatic quagmire. National Security Council spokesman Brian Hughes blamed Hamas for the ceasefire’s collapse, asserting Israel’s sincerity. A proposal from Trump’s envoy Steve Witkoff—to extend the truce through Ramadan and Passover with half the hostages freed upfront—fell apart when Hamas rejected it as a betrayal of the original deal. Leavitt, meanwhile, dodged questions about whether Trump envisions a US takeover of Gaza, directing reporters to the state department. Hamas, meanwhile, accuses Washington of emboldening Israel’s “Zionist right”, pointing to punitive measures like border closures. Trump’s gambit appears partly motivated by domestic optics, projecting strength ahead of political battles at home. But with negotiations stalled and Gaza on the brink, his approach could ignite a powder keg, leaving hostages, their families and Gaza’s beleaguered population in limbo as the human cost mounts.
Trump’s rhetoric has also sparked debate about his broader intentions. His use of “OVER for you” could mean a permission to Israel to escalate, potentially drawing the US and the Trump administration into a more active role. But the White House has been vague, with Leavitt’s evasiveness fuelling speculation. Trump’s earlier suggestion of transforming Gaza into a resort hints at a radical vision that clashes with Palestinian aspirations and Arab proposals. For Gazans, already reeling from years of conflict, the prospect of intensified US or Israeli pressure adds another layer of dread to an already dire situation.
Amid this escalating crisis, an emergency summit in Cairo on March 4 saw Arab leaders rally behind an Egyptian-led peace plan to reshape Gaza’s future, clearly rejecting Trump’s plan to turn Gaza into a beachfront resort. Spearheaded by President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi, the $53 billion blueprint envisions a Palestinian-led administration free of Hamas, which has governed the territory since 2007. A committee of independent Palestinian technocrats would temporarily oversee relief and governance, sidelining Hamas and paving the way for the Palestinian Authority (PA) to resume control. Sisi described this body as a team of “professionals and technocrats”, with a UN peacekeeping force securing Gaza and the West Bank. Reconstruction is central: a six-month, $3 billion phase would clear rubble and house 1.2 million in temporary units, followed by a $20 billion rebuild of utilities and homes by 2027, and a $30 billion final push for ports and an airport by 2030, funded largely by Gulf states and possibly Europe.
Hamas has signalled openness to ceding civilian control to such a committee, provided Gaza’s postwar fate reflects Palestinian consensus, but it rejects demilitarisation, a non-starter for Israel and the Trump administration. Arab leaders framed the plan as a bulwark against displacement, countering Trump’s February idea of pushing Palestinians into Egypt and Jordan, widely condemned as ethnic cleansing. Israel’s foreign ministry dismissed it as “outdated,” arguing it ignores Hamas’s threat, while Hamas welcomed the focus on reconstruction and keeping Palestinians in Gaza. Arab League Secretary General Ahmed Aboul Gheit credited Trump’s earlier mediation but urged sustained US support. The US, however, rebuffed the plan, with Hughes arguing Gaza’s uninhabitability—due to debris and unexploded ordnance—renders it unviable. “President Trump stands by his vision to rebuild Gaza free from Hamas,” he said, hinting at further talks. Yet, challenges loom—Israel opposes Palestinian statehood, and PA President Mahmoud Abbas’s reluctance to share power could fracture unity. Egypt’s plan offers hope, but its success hinges on navigating these deep divisions.
As the deadlock persists, the human cost mounts. Trump’s gambit of combining diplomacy with dire warnings may be a tried and tested strategy. But with negotiations stalled and Gaza teetering on the brink, his approach could ignite yet another powder keg. For the hostages and their families, and the Palestinian population in Gaza, time is running out.