Our existence in our land is the biggest happiness for us
On the shores of Sharm el-Sheikh, negotiators from Israel, Hamas, and the United States gathered for a third consecutive day in October 2025, attempting what every previous effort had failed to accomplish: a durable end to a war that has killed tens of thousands and left an entire territory in ruin. The Trump administration's plan is ambitious in its simultaneity — ceasefire, hostage release, disarmament, withdrawal, and reconstruction addressed all at once rather than in the sequential steps that have historically unraveled. Yet the oldest obstacle endures: Hamas demands binding assurances that Israel will not resume its campaign once hostages are freed, a guarantee no party has yet been willing or able to provide. Whether comprehensive ambition can succeed where incremental trust has repeatedly failed is the question that now hangs over the Egyptian coast.
- Hamas entered talks carrying a wound from March, when Israel broke a January ceasefire and resumed bombardment after partial hostage releases — making any new promise feel like a trap without ironclad guarantees.
- The arrival of senior figures — Trump's envoy Steve Witkoff, Jared Kushner, Netanyahu's top adviser Ron Dermer, and Qatar's prime minister — signaled the talks had moved past pleasantries into the hardest terrain.
- Over 67,000 Palestinians have been killed and nearly 170,000 wounded since October 2023, while 48 hostages remain in Gaza with roughly 20 believed alive, giving both sides urgent but competing reasons to reach a deal.
- Hamas submitted a prisoner exchange list and its chief negotiator appeared publicly for the first time since an Israeli strike killed his son, yet the group still said nothing about disarmament — the very concession the Trump plan requires.
- Egyptian and Israeli officials described the atmosphere as 'encouraging' and 'cautiously optimistic,' but the unresolved fractures — disarmament, withdrawal timelines, post-war governance — are the same ones that have ended every prior negotiation.
By Wednesday morning, negotiators from Israel, Hamas, and the United States had gathered for a third consecutive day at an Egyptian resort in Sharm el-Sheikh, a coastal city that had become the unlikely center of gravity for ending a two-year war. The arrival of more senior officials — Trump's Middle East envoy Steve Witkoff, Jared Kushner, Netanyahu's top adviser Ron Dermer, and Qatar's prime minister — signaled that the talks had moved beyond preliminary positioning into the hardest questions: Hamas disarmament, Israeli troop withdrawal, and who would govern Gaza afterward.
The Trump administration's plan was sweeping in its ambition. It called for an immediate ceasefire, the release of 48 hostages still held in Gaza — roughly 20 believed alive — and a staged Israeli withdrawal contingent on Hamas laying down its weapons. An international security force would follow, with reconstruction overseen by Trump and former British Prime Minister Tony Blair. The plan attempted to solve at once the problem that had broken every previous negotiation: the mutual distrust that had kept both sides locked in cycles of violence and failed agreements.
Hamas remained fixed on a single demand. The group wanted binding assurances — not statements of intent — that Israel would not resume its military campaign once hostages were freed. The fear was grounded in recent history: a January ceasefire had held long enough for some hostages and prisoners to be exchanged before Israel broke it in March and resumed bombardment. Hamas demanded the war's permanent end; Netanyahu had long insisted he would fight until the group was destroyed. Both sides now claimed cautious optimism, yet the fundamental fracture remained.
The human toll hanging over these talks was staggering. The October 2023 attack that began the conflict — when militants killed around 1,200 Israelis and took 251 hostages — had triggered an Israeli response of overwhelming force. More than 67,000 Palestinians had since been killed in Gaza, with nearly 170,000 wounded. In the territory itself, thousands of displaced people had set up makeshift camps along the beach in central Gaza, sheltering under blankets. Women like Um Sulaiman Abu Afash described conditions of no food, no clean water, and children sleeping in streets. Sara Rihan, displaced from Jabaliya, said she prayed not for victory but simply to return to her land — even if the homes no longer stood. For her, the mere act of remaining had become the measure of happiness.
On Wednesday, Hamas's senior official Taher Nounou announced the group had submitted a list of Palestinian prisoners it was willing to release in exchange for Israeli hostages. Chief negotiator Khalil al-Hayya appeared publicly in Sharm el-Sheikh for the first time since an Israeli strike in Qatar the previous month had killed his son, and told Egyptian television that Hamas wanted guarantees the war 'will not return.' Egyptian President el-Sissi called the talks 'very encouraging.' Netanyahu's office described Israel's posture as 'cautiously optimistic.' Yet Hamas had still said nothing about disarmament and continued to oppose international governance of Gaza — the same fractures that had ended every prior attempt. Whether Trump's comprehensive approach could bridge them remained the open question as the third day of talks continued.
By Wednesday morning, negotiators from Israel, Hamas, and the United States had gathered for a third consecutive day at an Egyptian resort in Sharm el-Sheikh, a coastal city that had become the unlikely center of gravity for ending a war that had consumed two years and devastated an entire territory. The presence of more senior officials—Trump's Middle East envoy Steve Witkoff, his son-in-law Jared Kushner, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's top adviser Ron Dermer, and Qatar's prime minister—signaled that the talks had moved beyond preliminary positioning. The parties were now attempting to grapple with the hardest questions: whether Hamas would disarm, when Israeli troops would leave Gaza, and who would govern the territory afterward.
The Trump administration's plan was straightforward in its ambition. It called for an immediate ceasefire, the release of 48 hostages still held by militants in Gaza—roughly 20 of whom were believed to be alive—and a staged Israeli withdrawal contingent on Hamas laying down its weapons. An international security force would then move in, with Trump and former British Prime Minister Tony Blair overseeing a reconstruction effort and the establishment of new governance structures. On paper, it attempted to solve at once the problem that had broken every previous negotiation: the mutual distrust that had kept both sides locked in cycles of violence and failed ceasefires.
Hamas, however, remained fixated on a single demand that had eluded them before. The group wanted ironclad guarantees—not promises, not statements of intent, but binding assurances from Trump and the mediating nations—that Israel would not resume its military campaign once the hostages were released. This fear was not abstract. In January, a ceasefire had held long enough for some hostages to come home and some Palestinian prisoners to be freed. But in March, Israel had broken that agreement and resumed its bombardment, saying it needed to pressure Hamas for the remaining captives. The pattern had repeated itself across years of failed negotiations. Hamas demanded the war's end; Netanyahu insisted he would fight until the group was destroyed. Now, with Trump's plan on the table, both sides claimed optimism, yet the fundamental obstacle remained unresolved.
The human toll that hung over these negotiations was almost incomprehensible in scale. The October 2023 attack that had started everything—when militants stormed into southern Israel and killed around 1,200 people, mostly civilians, and took 251 hostages—had triggered an Israeli response of overwhelming force. More than 67,000 Palestinians had been killed in Gaza since then, with nearly 170,000 wounded, according to the Gaza Health Ministry. The ministry's figures, which did not distinguish between civilians and combatants but noted that roughly half the dead were women and children, were considered by the United Nations and independent experts to be the most reliable count of wartime casualties. A growing number of international experts, including those commissioned by UN bodies, had concluded that Israel's offensive amounted to genocide—a charge Israel rejected.
In Gaza itself, the physical and human landscape had been transformed into something barely recognizable. Much of the territory lay in ruins. Thousands of people fleeing the latest Israeli ground offensive in the north had set up makeshift camps along the beach in central Gaza, sometimes using blankets as shelter. Um Sulaiman Abu Afash, a woman displaced from Gaza City, described the conditions with a flatness that suggested exhaustion beyond despair: no food, no clean water, crossings blocked, children sleeping in streets, drinking water purchased at prices most could not afford. Sara Rihan, displaced from Jabaliya, spoke of praying for the war to end—not for victory or vindication, but simply for the chance to return to her land, even if the homes themselves no longer existed. For her, as for thousands like her, the mere fact of remaining in place, of not being erased, had become the measure of happiness.
The negotiations themselves remained opaque. On Wednesday morning, as Qatari, Egyptian, and American mediators met with both delegations, Hamas's senior official Taher Nounou announced that the group had submitted a list of Palestinian prisoners it was willing to release in exchange for Israeli hostages under the terms being discussed. Khalil al-Hayya, Hamas's chief negotiator, appeared publicly in Sharm el-Sheikh for what seemed to be his first major appearance since an Israeli strike in Qatar the previous month had killed six people, including his son and office manager. He told Egyptian television that Hamas wanted guarantees the war "will not return"—the same demand, stated again, that had broken negotiations before.
Egyptian President Abdel-Fattah el-Sissi offered a measured assessment, saying the talks so far had been "very encouraging." Netanyahu's office framed Israel's participation as technical work on a plan both sides had already accepted, describing the Israeli position as "cautiously optimistic." But the gap between optimism and agreement remained vast. Hamas had reiterated its demands for a lasting ceasefire and full Israeli withdrawal while saying nothing about disarmament, a step it had long resisted. It had also spoken against international governance of Gaza, though it had agreed it would have no role in post-war administration. These were not minor disagreements. They were the same fractures that had ended every previous attempt at peace. Whether Trump's comprehensive approach—attempting to resolve all issues simultaneously rather than sequentially—could bridge them remained the open question as the talks continued into their third day.
Notable Quotes
There is no food, nor good water, and blockage of crossings. Our kids sleep in the streets.— Um Sulaiman Abu Afash, displaced woman from Gaza City
I hope we return to our places and homes even if there are no homes. Our existence in our land is the biggest happiness for us.— Sara Rihan, displaced woman from Jabaliya
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does Hamas keep asking for guarantees about the war not resuming? Haven't both sides already agreed to the ceasefire terms?
Because they've watched this movie before. In January, there was a ceasefire, hostages came home, and then in March Israel broke it and went back to fighting. From Hamas's perspective, once they release the last hostages, they lose their only leverage. They need something binding, not just a handshake.
And Netanyahu won't give them that?
Netanyahu says he needs to keep fighting until Hamas is destroyed. That's been his position throughout. A permanent ceasefire looks to him like leaving the job unfinished. So you have one side saying "end the war" and the other saying "I'll end it when you're gone." Trump's plan tries to solve that by doing everything at once—disarmament, withdrawal, new governance—but the trust problem is still there.
What about the people in Gaza right now? Are they aware these talks are happening?
They're aware, but I'm not sure it changes much for them day to day. There are thousands living in tents on beaches because their homes are destroyed or they've been forced out. One woman said her children sleep in the streets. The negotiations feel distant when you're trying to find drinking water.
Is there any reason to think this time will be different from January?
The presence of more senior officials suggests they're taking it seriously. Kushner and Witkoff are there, which means Trump is personally invested. But the core problem—Hamas wanting guarantees, Netanyahu wanting to keep fighting—that hasn't changed. The plan is more comprehensive, trying to address everything at once instead of step by step. Whether that actually works depends on whether either side is willing to move on what they've said is non-negotiable.
What happens if these talks collapse like the others?
Then you're back to the fighting, and the people in those beach camps stay there. The hostages stay in Gaza. The cycle continues. That's what everyone's trying to avoid, but wanting to avoid it and being willing to compromise are different things.