Welcome to Gaza Inc.

The world is witnessing one of the most unconventional geopolitical experiments of the 21st century. Donald Trump is no longer positioning himself merely as a mediator in the traditional diplomatic mold.

Instead, he has effectively appointed himself chief restructuring officer of what he describes as a “systemically bankrupt” entity: the Gaza Strip. Through the establishment of the Board of Peace, which convened its inaugural summit on February 19, 2026, Trump has shifted the paradigm of peacemaking from diplomatic negotiating tables to the boardroom.

Gaza is no longer treated primarily as a political entity aspiring to sovereignty but as a distressed strategic asset undergoing international restructuring.

This initiative bears all the hallmarks of Trump’s governing style: transactional, skeptical of legacy multilateral institutions and focused on visible, measurable outcomes. As “chairman for life” of the Board, he holds decisive influence over more than US$5 billion in pledged reconstruction funds from donor states.

Yet beyond the headline figures and glossy promises of a “New Gaza,” modeled loosely on Dubai’s skyline, lies a deeper strategic ambition. The Board of Peace is not solely about Gaza; it represents a deliberate attempt to marginalize the United Nations and supplant it with a coalition of selectively admitted states willing to pay for influence.

The participation of leaders such as Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto has provided the Board with crucial political legitimacy. For Jakarta, the calculus is pragmatic: Engagement offers leverage in trade negotiations, now complicated by last week’s Supreme Court ruling, and a platform for expanded peacekeeping roles.

At a broader level, however, Indonesia’s involvement—alongside dozens of other countries—signals a growing acceptance of what might be termed “privatized sovereignty”, a model in which economic stabilization is offered as compensation for diminished political autonomy for Palestinians.

From a wider geopolitical perspective, Gaza under Trump’s stewardship functions as a laboratory for what some analysts call “Pax Silica,” an emerging order driven less by ideological blocs than by technological supply chains and capital flows.

Peace, in this model, is secured not through protracted resolutions at the UN General Assembly but through infrastructure contracts, special economic zones and tightly controlled security architectures.

Gaza is being administratively “acquired,” cleared of ideological debris and prepared for transformation into a US-supervised economic hub. This is real estate diplomacy on a global scale, where success is measured in investment indices rather than historical justice.

Gaza as an Asset Under Receivership

Within the Board of Peace framework, the Gaza Strip has effectively ceded what remained of its autonomous governance to external management.

Trump approaches the territory much as he would a distressed property within a corporate portfolio. The creation of a National Committee for the Administration of Gaza (NCAG), staffed by Palestinian technocrats, provides the appearance of local participation.

In reality, it functions as a mid-level managerial layer reporting upward to decision-makers in Washington. True authority rests with those who control reconstruction budgets and command the International Stabilization Force (ISF).

This governance model sidelines the principle of self-determination and substitutes it with economic management. The underlying assumption is straightforward: provide employment, modern housing, and world-class infrastructure and ideological resistance will dissipate.

Prosperity, in this vision, purchases peace. Yet the trade-off is stark. Gaza assumes the status of a leased territory administered by an international consortium, where civil and political rights are subordinated to the smooth execution of mega-development projects marketed as the “Gaza Riviera.”

Such an approach sets a precedent with global implications. Sovereignty becomes conditional, subject to forfeiture if local authorities are deemed incapable of maintaining stability conducive to global markets.

In Trump’s worldview, sovereignty is not sacrosanct; it is transactional. If local actors cannot halt conflict, managerial control transfers to those with capital and military capacity to impose order. Gaza thus becomes a prototype for what could evolve into a broader trend: quasi-corporate governance structures operating under the banner of peacebuilding.

This restructuring also entails sidelining agencies long embedded in the conflict’s humanitarian architecture. Institutions associated with the UN system, including the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East, have been marginalized on the grounds that they perpetuate dependency and bureaucratic inertia.

In their place, aid flows increasingly through private contracts and market-based mechanisms. Every dollar allocated to Gaza must demonstrate a measurable return in the form of political stability. Advanced surveillance and security technologies, financed by the Board, have tightened oversight across the enclave.

Critics describe the result as a gilded enclosure: secure, modernized yet closely monitored.

Erosion of traditional multilateralism

The emergence of the Board of Peace marks a profound challenge to the post-1945 multilateral order.

By deliberately circumventing established diplomatic channels, Trump has constructed a parallel structure rooted in transactional participation. States seeking influence over Gaza’s future must contribute capital, whether financial resources or troop deployments. It is a pay-to-play model of international diplomacy.

This model is intentionally dividing the international community. On one side stand states prepared to align with Trump’s architecture in exchange for tangible benefits. On the other remain those committed to the normative frameworks of international law, now increasingly constrained by limited enforcement capacity and shrinking financial clout.

The principle of sovereign equality enshrined in the UN Charter appears less decisive when reconstruction contracts and security guarantees are controlled by a compact coalition of wealthy contributors.

For countries such as Indonesia, the dilemma is acute. President Prabowo Subianto’s visit to Washington underscored Jakarta’s recognition of the shifting power dynamics. By committing 8,000 peacekeeping personnel to the ISF, Indonesia does more than fulfill a humanitarian obligation – it acquires a stake in the Board’s strategic direction.

The benefits are concrete: reciprocal tariff arrangements that ease access for Indonesian exports such as palm oil and rubber to US markets.

Yet the systemic consequences are more complex. When peace becomes commodified and administered by a select consortium under a dominant leader, the foundational norms protecting developing nations risk erosion.

Financial and military leverage, managed with corporate efficiency, can override moral arguments advanced in global forums. The Board of Peace thus embodies a recalibration of global power, away from deliberative diplomacy and toward executive-style decision-making backed by capital.

European allies face their own quandaries. Governments in Paris and Berlin must balance allegiance to established international legal norms with the pragmatic reality that access to strategic reconstruction projects will increasingly flow through Trump’s structure.

The Board operates as a form of back-channel diplomacy, compelling states to choose between participating in a high-value post-conflict rebuilding enterprise and adhering to a multilateral system with diminishing operational reach.

Trump as Gaza’s manager

Viewed through this managerial lens, diplomacy becomes indistinguishable from deal-making. For Trump, the Israeli–Palestinian conflict is less a historical tragedy rooted in identity and dispossession than a protracted land dispute requiring decisive redevelopment.

Peace is reframed as enforced stability underwritten by capital investment. Membership in the Board of Peace offers access to broader US economic networks, including semiconductor supply chains and emerging trade corridors associated with the Pax Silica concept.

Indonesia’s role illustrates the logic of strategic barter. By providing high-quality security personnel through the ISF, Jakarta supplies an essential operational component of Gaza’s stabilization.

In return, it secures economic assurances and enhanced bilateral cooperation with Washington. This large-scale outsourcing of security blurs the boundary between principled foreign policy and transactional advantage.

The long-term risks are substantial. When sovereignty is exchanged for economic guarantees, political aspirations do not disappear but are only deferred. Trump’s wager is that sustained prosperity will dilute nationalist fervor in Gaza.

If this assumption proves incorrect, the Board of Peace may amount to a temporary crisis management mechanism, effective so long as funds flow and political leadership in Washington remains committed. A change in US administration or a contraction in financial support could expose underlying grievances that infrastructure alone cannot resolve.

Ultimately, the Gaza experiment represents an attempt to rewrite the rules of international relations. It posits that the world prefers decisive managerial authority to protracted diplomatic negotiation.

Should Gaza evolve into a thriving Mediterranean commercial hub under this new governance model, Trump will claim validation for a corporate approach to geopolitics. If, however, the enclave remains volatile, “Gaza Incorporated” may be remembered as one of the most audacious—and potentially costly—restructuring ventures in modern geopolitical history.

At stake is not only the future of a narrow strip of land along the Mediterranean coast. The deeper question is whether sovereignty in the 21st century remains an inviolable political principle or whether it is becoming a conditional asset, subject to acquisition, restructuring and performance metrics set by those who command capital and force.

Gaza is merely the first test case. The outcome of its experiment will resonate far beyond its borders.

Ronny P Sasmita is senior international affairs analyst at Indonesia Strategic and Economics Action Institution, a Jakarta-based think tank