Trump’s 20 Points on Gaza – Liberal peacebuilding sans liberalism, or: Capitalism without a human face

On 29 September 2025, Donald Trump unveiled his 20 point peace plan (20 Points) for the conflict in Gaza in a joint press conference with Benjamin Netanyahu. The proposal has been welcomed by leaders both in the West and the Middle East. On the Palestinian side, reactions have been more mixed. The plan doubtlessly suffers from serious shortcomings. To name just a few, it does not address the Israeli occupation of the West Bank including East Jerusalem, pays little attention to reconciliation, is ambiguous in its commitment to the unity of Palestine, and makes only extremely vague long-term proposals for lasting peace and statehood. Furthermore, the feasibility of an international peacekeeping force in Gaza is questionable at best, especially given the short timeframe. These (very serious) concerns aside, the purpose of this contribution is to analyse an aspect of the proposal that may at first seem secondary: its vision for the economic reconstruction and governance of Gaza. The proposals on this issue mirror the model of liberal peacebuilding of the 1990s and 2000s, shunning most of the lessons learned since. However, the plan differs from this model by eschewing its commitment to the liberal international legal order. This is reflective of a broader trend in the Trump White House’s vision – or lack thereof – of international law.

The contribution will first give a brief background of the liberal peacebuilding paradigm and the trend away from it in recent times. It will then analyse the Trump peace plan, before ending with some reflections on how it aligns with the broader rollback of international law.

Liberal peacebuilding and the local turn

A firmly post-Cold War phenomenon, liberal peacebuilding came into its own throughout the 1990s. The project was built on two intertwined foundations. First, the promotion of free-market, globalised capitalism as a way to promote rapid growth in post-conflict societies. Economic development through international, technocratic interventions, the thinking went, would deliver prosperity and peace would naturally follow. And second, an ideological commitment to liberalism’s political values of democracy, rule of law, and human rights, based on the Western model of the state. Together, these foundations would be the underpinnings of peacebuilding after international conflicts like Iraq and Afghanistan, and non-international ones ranging from El Salvador and Bosnia & Herzegovina to Timor-Leste. International law was vital to both of the foundations. International economic law formed the framework upon which globalisation was built and into which these newly built states were to be integrated. And the language of human rights and international criminal law served to both justify the international intervention and legitimise the peacebuilding project. International law, although often well-meaning and invoked in good faith, was in effect the human face to liberalism’s capitalism.

Critical academics like Michael Pugh and Roger Mac Ginty, NGOs, and local stakeholders have done important work to point out the contradictions and ideological shortcomings of this project, such as the tension between international technocratic governance and a commitment to democracy or the disregard for local views, as well as a disinterest in the underlying causes of conflict. What was likely more impactful for liberal peacebuilding’s popularity, however, was its failure to produce positive results, largely as a result of its focus on free market capitalism. Cookie-cutter “best practices” of privatization did not provide meaningful growth as they disregarded the realities on the ground. Development plans floundered when it became clear that they had assumed a level of state capacity that fragile post-conflict administrations could not provide. And at times, the various international actors undermined each other’s projects outright.

The result of this was a ‘local turn’ in peacebuilding (Mac Ginty & Richmond 2013). States and international actors like the UN and World Bank have over the last decade become increasingly aware of the need to tailor their programs to conditions on the ground and work with local populations. While this post-liberal peacebuilding practice is far from perfect and ample cause for critique remains, these developments have at least been important steps in the right direction, both in terms of addressing some of the normative critiques of liberal peacebuilding and in making practice more effective.

The 20 Points

Disregarding these developments, Trump’s 20 Points in many ways return to a model of peace through economic growth. In some respects, this is superficial. The plan references economic development repeatedly and promises a “prosperous economy” for “New Gaza” (Point 13). The only other named member of the “Board of Peace” besides Donald Trump is former British Prime Minister Tony Blair, one of the architects of early 2000s third-way neo-liberalism (Point 9). However, there are also significant substantive parallels. Gaza’s redevelopment is to be overseen by a board of technocrats, ostensibly a Palestinian voice in the process but partially composed of “international experts”. Even this minimal local ownership is to be overseen by an international Board of Peace (Point 9). These institutions are to create “modern and efficient governance” by calling on “best international standards” (Point 9) inspired by the “modern miracle cities of the Middle East” (Point 10). These proposals echo the modes of governance of liberal peacebuilding in Kosovo, Iraq, and elsewhere. They represent a return of international “apolitical” administrations imposing best practices with little regard to local conditions.

On the economic side, the proposals are premised on a model of growth through free-market capitalism. The “Trump economic development plan” relies largely on the attraction of foreign investment (Point 10). Attracting investment is also one of the two goals of governance for the strip, presented as co-equal with serving the people of Gaza (Point 9). Furthermore, Gaza is to be linked to global and regional markets through a special economic zone, lowering tariffs and providing market access quotas for exports (Point 11). This is notable because providing preferential trade access was not only an important part of liberal peacebuilding, but has been attempted before in Palestine specifically. During the Oslo process, the EU concluded a free trade agreement with the Palestinian Authority, and other countries, including the US, granted trade benefits. It is unclear how this new arrangement would go beyond these existing preferences, or why it should be more successful (EU imports from Palestine in 2024 amounted to less than 40 million EUR, around 0.25 Percent of those from Israel).

The plan thus emulates many of the aspects of liberal peacebuilding. However, where it differs markedly is the complete absence of any reference to liberal internationalism. It does establish that Gaza should be redeveloped for the benefit of its people (Point 2). But other than this, it eschews the traditional ideological underpinnings of liberal peacebuilding. There is no reference to democracy, nor the rule of law, nor the rights of Palestinians. International law plays no role in its vision for Gaza. The United Nations is relegated to an exclusively humanitarian role (Point 8). The word justice is never once mentioned. The 20 points are liberal peacebuilding sans liberalism, capitalism without a human face, as it were.

Normative nihilism

Liberal peacebuilding in practice has arguably always been in contradiction with its professed values. Cynically, one may say that Trump’s version at least does away with this hypocrisy. But the 20 Points are nevertheless concerning. Pragmatically, because they ignore years of practical and normative lessons learned about how to conduct peacebuilding effectively. To regress to an economic governance model that has been marred by failures is to jeopardise any efforts of peacebuilding in Gaza, or anywhere this model may be exported. The DRC comes to mind in this respect.

Furthermore, from a normative point of view, the 20 Points fit into what seems to be an attempt of the Trump Administration to side-line international law more generally. Its normative nihilism echoes US disregard for international law in military operations in Iran and off the coast of Venezuela. This development is also apparent in the remaking of the global trading system in the name of reciprocity, ignoring established rules. The 20 Points should thus be understood as part of a broader trend of international law being rolled back. Just like this broader trend does for international law as a whole, the plan raises difficult questions of how the post-liberal model of peacebuilding can be preserved – and whether it should be.

Conclusion

The 20 Points’ shortcomings, not only in the sphere of economic governance, make it highly unlikely that they will succeed in the long term (and neither Hamas’ reticence nor Israel’s behaviour is raising high hopes for the short term). Still, any glimmer of hope for an end to Israel’s war is for now to be cherished and supported. Nevertheless, the 20 Points should not be held up as an example for future peacebuilding, but seen for what they are: A regression to the ineffective and harmful policies of liberal peacebuilding, only this time without any commitment, however self-contradicting, to justice, self-determination, and international law.

This post was written during a research stay at the University of Edinburgh graciously funded by the DAAD.