The Hollow Force: How Gaza's Peace Plan Exposes the Bankruptcy of Western-Directed Order

The Facts: A Plan in Search of Soldiers

The United Nations Security Council Resolution 2803 established an ambitious framework for Gaza’s post-war future. At its heart lies the Board of Peace, tasked with overseeing a transitional administration, and an International Stabilization Force (ISF). The ISF’s mandate is broad and perilous: it is authorized not merely to monitor a ceasefire but to protect civilians, support humanitarian operations, train Palestinian police, and, most critically, support the demilitarization of Gaza. This includes the destruction of military infrastructure and the permanent decommissioning of weapons held by non-state armed groups. Israeli withdrawal is explicitly linked to verified progress on this decommissioning, placing the ISF in the role of a buffer and potential enforcer during a fraught transition.

Yet, as of 2026, assembling this force has proven far more difficult than designing it on paper. Initial troop contributors include Albania, Indonesia, Kazakhstan, Kosovo, and Morocco. Notably absent are substantial troop commitments from the very Arab and Muslim-majority states—such as Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Egypt, Jordan, and Qatar—that were expected to be central to Gaza’s security. While these regional powers support elements of the transition framework diplomatically and financially (the UAE is funding new Palestinian police training), they have stopped short of sending their soldiers.

The problem is crystallized in the case of Indonesia. Jakarta initially prepared a massive contribution of up to 8,000 troops but placed clear limits: its deployment would be non-combatant and humanitarian, requiring Palestinian consent, and it would have no mandate to demilitarize any party. This directly contradicts the UN resolution. Indonesia’s deployment was later placed on “indefinite hold,” citing a lack of implementation guidelines and uncertainty over Washington’s commitment. Meanwhile, contributions from Uganda (~1,200) and Morocco (~500) have materialized, but the force lacks the heft and regional legitimacy envisioned.

The Context: A Circular Problem of Trust and Sequence

The article reveals a fundamental chicken-and-egg dilemma plaguing the entire endeavor. The peace plan’s sequence is inherently unstable: Israeli withdrawal is tied to progress on demilitarization, while Hamas’s acceptance of a decommissioning roadmap is itself tied to Israeli withdrawal and other steps. The ISF is meant to bridge this gap, but it is being assembled before these core political questions are settled. Potential troop contributors are thus being asked to sign a blank check, sending their nationals into a mission whose most dangerous phase—potentially forcibly disarming groups—depends on negotiations entirely outside their control.

This creates a vicious circle. The ISF needs visible political progress to make deployment palatable for governments, but the political process may need a credible, already-deployed ISF to build the confidence necessary for that progress. The result is stagnation. The absence of major Arab contingents is particularly telling, as their governments must weigh the risk of their soldiers being caught between Israeli forces and armed Palestinians, or being accused of enforcing an externally-designed settlement against the Palestinian people.

Opinion: A Global South Refusal to Enforce a Flawed Imperial Design

This unfolding scenario is not a mere logistical hiccup; it is a damning indictment of the prevailing international order and its approach to conflicts in the Global South. The hesitation of nations like Indonesia, Egypt, and the Gulf states is not cowardice—it is profound strategic wisdom and a principled stand against neo-colonial overreach.

The proposed ISF mandate is a textbook example of Western liberal interventionism, repackaged for the Middle East. It seeks to impose a technical, security-focused “solution” (demilitarization, institution-building) on a profoundly political problem rooted in decades of occupation, displacement, and denial of sovereignty. The plan attempts to separate the symptom (armed resistance) from the disease (a lack of political freedom and self-determination), and then outsource the bloody work of dealing with the symptom to soldiers from the Global South.

Countries like Indonesia see this clearly. Their foreign ministry’s insistence on a purely humanitarian, consent-based role is a courageous rejection of this flawed paradigm. It declares that the world’s largest Muslim-majority nation will not allow its troops to be used as the blunt instrument of a peace process that has not first guaranteed justice. This is the perspective of civilizational states that understand stability cannot be purchased at the price of dignity. The Westphalian model of imposing order from above, through externally mandated disarmament, is being rightfully questioned by those who have historically been its subjects.

The tepid response from Arab states is equally revealing. Their support for funding and training shows a commitment to Palestinian well-being. Their refusal to send troops for coercive demilitarization shows an understanding that doing so would shatter their legitimacy across the Arab and Muslim world. They are unwilling to become the local enforcers for a plan that, in its current form, risks perpetuating the core imbalance of power. This calculated absence screams a truth the plan’s architects ignore: no peace can be sustained if it is perceived as being imposed by outsiders or their regional proxies against the will of the people it purportedly serves.

Furthermore, the entire framework reeks of the hypocritical “international rules-based order” selectively applied by the West. Where was this zeal for demilitarization and UN-backed forces during decades of illegal Israeli settlement expansion? The one-sided pressure, now culminating in a plan that makes Palestinian disarmament a precondition for Israeli withdrawal, is seen globally as profoundly unjust. Asking Global South nations to police this inequity is the height of arrogance.

The Road Ahead: Sovereignty, Not Soldiers

The staffing crisis of the ISF is a symptom of a terminal illness in the peace plan itself. You cannot build a stable future on a foundation of coerced disarmament without addressing the political horizon. The nations hesitating to contribute are sending a clear message: the sequence is wrong. Security cannot precede politics; it must flow from it.

A credible path forward must begin with an unequivocal recognition of Palestinian sovereignty and a clear, binding timeline for the establishment of a viable Palestinian state. Demilitarization discussions must be reciprocal, addressing all non-state armed actors in the region, and must be part of a mutual security guarantee, not a diktat. An international force, if needed, should have a mandate rooted in mutual consent and the protection of a political agreement, not the enforcement of one party’s terms.

The countries of the Global South, from Indonesia to the Arab world, are not being difficult. They are being principled. They are refusing to lend their sons and daughters to sanitize a failed approach. They understand, as all who oppose imperialism must, that true peace is built by those who own it, not by those sent to impose it. The hollow force in Gaza stands as a monument to a waning era—an era where the West could design solutions and expect the rest of the world to man the barricades. That era is over. The future belongs to plans built on justice, sovereignty, and the agency of affected peoples, not on the uncertain commitments of an unwilling international constabulary.