The United States is once again at the forefront of efforts to establish a lasting peace between Israelis and Palestinians. President Donald Trump’s October 2025 cease-fire agreement produced an uneasy truce between the two sides in Gaza, and a United Nations Security Council resolution in the following month approved the outlines of the president’s plan for the territory. It envisions the formal dissolution of Hamas as a governing body in Gaza, a U.S.-led Board of Peace to guide redevelopment, and an International Stabilization Force to oversee security and train Palestinian police forces.

In the months since, fighting has continued to flare between Israeli forces and Hamas militants, underlining the urgency of moving beyond the increasingly fragile cease-fire terms toward the next phases envisioned in the peace plan’s roadmap. With little trust between Hamas and Israel, the challenges are enormous. Arab countries are watching developments with deep concern. The collapse of previous attempts to find peace in the region—notably, the breakdown in the late 1990s of the process outlined by the Oslo accords—invites fresh cynicism and doubt as a new batch of American leaders attempts to resolve conflict in the Middle East.

But Washington should not be disheartened. Indeed, the United States need only turn to its own record to find examples of how to engineer success and avoid failure. Over the past half century, Washington has played a leading role in the mediation of conflicts in the Middle East—sometimes successfully, sometimes less so. The 1979 Camp David accords reached a peace between Egypt and Israel that holds to this day. The 1994 Jordan-Israel agreement also endures. But subsequent efforts to broker a treaty between Syria and Israel floundered. And, most notably, repeated attempts to achieve a lasting peace between Israel and the Palestinians have yet to achieve lasting results.

Whether successful or unsuccessful, these efforts have yielded a number of useful lessons on how to conduct negotiations among regional actors. The sustained and active involvement of top-level government officials, for instance, is critical. Shielding participants from political pressures back home has also proved vital. Negotiators should carefully time incentives and penalties to keep talks moving forward. Security guarantees, including through monitoring, peacekeeping forces, and intelligence support, provide needed reassurance. And public diplomacy can help neutralize spoilers and promote constituencies in favor of peace. The Trump administration often styles its policy as mounting a sharp break with the past. But as it tries to usher in peace between Israelis and Palestinians, it should remember that recent history may be the best guide forward.

How to Foster a Breakthrough

In the 1970s, Egyptian President Anwar al-Sadat’s decision to reject alignment with the Soviet Union and seek rapprochement with the United States opened a unique window. Sadat’s 1977 Jerusalem visit, despite enormous political risks, jolted the region by signaling that one of Israel’s biggest and most hostile foes was ready to make a deal. Henry Kissinger, then the U.S. national security adviser, amplified that momentum with what came to be known as “shuttle diplomacy,” a series of personal interventions that helped to establish common ground. President Jimmy Carter’s intensive 1978 Camp David summit with Sadat and Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin moved the process forward by insulating leaders from political pressures at home and allowing U.S. brokers to sequence negotiations in a way that turned once irreconcilable positions into subjects for discussion. Not only did the summit produce a framework for peace between Egypt and Israel, but it also introduced a five-year transitional timeline toward a fully autonomous and self-governed Palestine. That plan may not have reached fruition, but it marked a significant breakthrough after years of deadlock. At Camp David, Carter shuttled between principals who rarely met face-to-face, limiting political posturing and allowing the United States to apply pressure without damaging either leader’s image.

Carter’s decision to handle Egyptian-Israeli bilateral issues separately from the Palestinian question proved critical. The Camp David framework allowed negotiators to focus on finite problems (such as the withdrawal of Israeli troops from Sinai and the normalization of ties between Egypt and Israel) while deferring more complex issues to do with the Palestinians. This modular approach reduced the chances of a single issue failing leading to the collapse of the entire negotiations.

Following Camp David, the United States offered substantial economic and military assistance to Egypt, replacing Soviet support and helping Sadat withstand domestic criticism. To Israel, the United States promised security cooperation and advanced military supplies, reducing the perceived costs of Israel’s withdrawal from Sinai. The treaty complemented territorial withdrawal with layered security: demilitarization of Sinai, deployment of multinational observer forces, and clear verification protocols.

Beware of Spoilers

In the 1980s and 1990s, the United States tackled the far more complex Israeli-Palestinian relationship. Secretary of State James Baker’s 1989 “Baker Plan” sought compromise, laying out phases and delineating important roles for Egypt and the United States. But the Madrid conference in 1991, which carried the Baker Plan into a multilateral format, ultimately failed to produce results, diminishing U.S. credibility.

In 1993, in an attempt to revive the stalled peace process, Norway launched secret back-channel negotiations with Palestinians and Israelis. Although this dual channel allowed difficult issues to play out behind closed doors and enabled the eventual (albeit short-lived) success of the Oslo accords, it undercut U.S. leadership in negotiations, limiting Washington’s ability to sway the outcome.

The Oslo accords succeeded in getting Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization to formally recognize each other, but it intentionally left the wording of the agreement vague. It included no mention of either the creation of a Palestinian state or the end of the Israeli occupation. This phased approach, while well intentioned, left many opportunities for spoilers.

Additionally, Israel’s continued settlement expansion in the West Bank in the early 1990s** **undermined the accords by eroding Palestinian trust. In 1990, Baker threatened to withhold $10 billion of loan guarantees if settlement construction didn’t stop. Years later, the United States tried to offer Israel incentives not to build settlements, such as expanded military assistance. Unfortunately, neither inducements nor penalties proved effective in reining in the Israelis.

Sustained, high-level U.S. engagement is not enough to guarantee success.

But perhaps the most catastrophic failure of the Oslo process was inadequately preparing the Israeli and Palestinian publics to accept peace, allowing spoilers on both sides to disrupt the peace process and culminating in the assassination of Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin in 1995 and the eruption of the second intifada in 2000.

The United States made multiple errors that doomed Oslo. First, focusing on confidence-building measures and interim steps, rather than a comprehensive agreement, unintentionally created the conditions for failure because these gains involved minimal compromise, which disincentivized serious progress. Second, tabling “final status issues” that were ostensibly the primary aim of the negotiations led to hollow agreements that never addressed the most important parts of the conflict.

The United States did provide serious incentives to both sides. During the Oslo process, the United States organized a multilateral donor conference that secured around $3.6 billion in pledges to build a constituency for peace among Israelis and Palestinians by buttressing the Israeli and Palestinian economies and supporting the newly established Palestinian Authority. To secure the Wye River memorandum in 1998 (which aimed, among other things, to implement previously agreed-upon phased redeployments of Israeli troops from portions of the West Bank), the United States guaranteed Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu an additional $1.2 billion in military aid and promised the Palestinians economic assistance if both sides adequately implemented the terms of Wye. The United States also offered Israel informal security guarantees, including ensuring Israel’s qualitative military edge over all its neighbors and rivals and increased intelligence sharing.

The Oslo experience makes clear that sustained, high-level U.S. engagement is not enough to guarantee success. Spoilers—largely domestic publics on both sides—sabotaged Oslo’s implementation. The United States failed to adequately prepare publics for peace or convince Israeli and Palestinian publics that peace would improve their lives. Moreover, the accords set no measurable benchmarks for either side and imposed no consequences for inaction, making it easier for disgruntled actors to upend the process.

The Virtues of Momentum

Despite its flaws, Oslo did open a window of opportunity for another regional power to seek peace with Israel. After witnessing the early success of negotiations between Israelis and Palestinians, Jordan launched a fresh peace initiative in the early 1990s.** **Jordan’s desire to reconcile with the United States after the Gulf War (in which Jordan effectively backed Iraq), combined with Israel’s desire to stabilize its eastern front, spurred discussions between the two countries. King Hussein visited Washington in June 1993 and outlined Jordan’s needs, including debt forgiveness. President Bill Clinton took Jordan’s demands seriously, but he warned that it could be difficult to gain congressional approval for aid.

The process moved quickly. A “common agenda” was signed just one day afterthe Palestinians and Israelis signed the declaration of principles, which defined core negotiation areas and committed the parties to a phased path toward a final peace treaty. The United States kept both Israel and Jordan engaged by focusing initial negotiations on economic development and cooperation, gradually building trust between both sides. By keeping initial negotiations in Washington and insisting each meeting produce progress, the United States protected both parties from external pressures and avoided losing momentum.

In mid-July 1993, King Hussein gave a speech in which he expressed willingness to publicly meet Rabin, injecting new momentum into negotiations. That allowed the United States to orchestrate a highly publicized trilateral meeting involving both heads of state, which brought the peace process into the public eye. Washington moved quickly to secure a breakthrough. Negotiations on contentious land and water issues soon commenced, and approximately three months later, a peace treaty between Israel and Jordan was signed.

U.S. mediation succeeds when incentive packages are substantial and strategically timed.

Washington upheld its promise to ease Jordan’s debts. The United States also guaranteed the Jordanian government loans, assisted with the country’s agricultural needs, and provided it with military equipment. As with the Oslo accords, the primary hurdle came from how domestic publics and regional neighbors would receive the deal. In this case, tangible incentives, alongside phased negotiations, helped local populations—primarily the disgruntled Jordanians—gradually accept the terms and benefits of peace.

Negotiations between Israel and Syria, by contrast, did not reach successful conclusions. The Clinton administration made sustained efforts throughout the late 1990s to bridge differences regarding the Golan Heights and border security with the aim of normalizing ties. But Clinton failed to apply enough credible pressure on either side. Throughout negotiations, the Clinton administration prioritized the Palestinian and Jordanian tracks, freezing and restarting the Syria process multiple times. U.S. credibility suffered when the administration failed to follow up on a tentative promise that Israel would withdraw from the Golan Heights. By the time the Syria negotiations restarted, Israel was no longer willing to withdraw from the Golan Heights.

The Syria track failed to yield substantial progress because of mistakes by the United States as well as the complexity of the conflict itself. Unlike Sinai, the Golan Heights had a great deal of strategic value as high ground overlooking northern Israel. For Syria, recovering the Golan Heights was tied to national pride and political legitimacy. Negotiators never managed to overcome these obstacles.

Learning From the Past

The achievements and failures of past U.S.-led Middle East peace negotiations offer a useful guide for the Trump administration today. The most successful U.S. mediation efforts—Egypt-Israel and Jordan-Israel—featured the sustained engagement of U.S. presidents at critical moments, combined with support by senior U.S. officials that maintained Washington’s credibility as an honest broker.

When it comes to the future of Gaza, Trump must personally insert himself into negotiations at decisive junctures, following Carter’s Camp David model of separating principals and acting as a true mediator. Trump must gain and maintain the trust of both sides, know their priorities intimately, and be willing to apply pressure when necessary—and not just to offer them inducements. Although the U.S.-led Board of Peace provides an institutional framework, Trump’s desire to personally chair the board risks backfiring given his perceived pro-Israel stance. Instead, the United States should appoint respected regional partners or international figures to visible positions while maintaining behind-the-scenes control, ensuring that the board is trusted by both Palestinians and Israelis.

Negotiators should also strive to create an environment for talks that is insulated from domestic pressures. Ideally, that would be on American soil, with U.S. teams offering continuous support in designing implementable arrangements for the governance of Gaza and its reconstruction. The United States must stay focused throughout implementation, avoiding the Clinton administration’s error of repeatedly freezing and restarting negotiations during its talks with Syria and Israel.

Phased approaches work when they include binding timetables, tangible early wins, and clear pathways to final resolution as happened with Egypt’s gradual but well-defined peace process with Israel—but they fail when they defer difficult issues indefinitely or lack enforcement mechanisms. For Gaza, the United States must establish specific, measurable benchmarks with defined deadlines for each phase. On January 14, Trump’s special envoy to the Middle East, Steve Witkoff, announced the start of phase two of the process, which is supposed to launch the reconstruction of Gaza and the demilitarization of Hamas. Washington must be prepared to impose consequences if parties fail to meet deadlines: withholding economic incentives, reducing diplomatic support, or excluding parties from trade preferences, just as Baker threatened to hold back loan guarantees in 1990. Early phases must deliver concrete benefits for the Israeli and Palestinian populations, such as humanitarian relief, the beginning of reconstruction, and the reduction of violence. This will demonstrate the tangible value of peace in people’s lives.

Crucially, the United States must avoid Oslo’s mistake of indefinitely deferring final status issues. Although sequencing allows trust-building before tackling contentious issues, failure to define end goals makes negotiations hollow. Washington must establish a clear political horizon explicitly linking the stabilization of Gaza to broader final status negotiations on Palestinian statehood. (It should be noted that the Trump administration so far seems uninterested in taking such a step.) One potential approach might entail working with Egypt, Jordan, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates to promise more regional normalization with Israel in return for concrete progress on Palestinian statehood; in turn, Israel could make concessions on this issue conditional on the stability of Gaza. This will create meaningful incentives for sustained engagement.

U.S. mediation succeeds when incentive packages are substantial enough to alter domestic political calculations and strategically timed to reward progress. For Palestinians today, meaningful short-run incentives could include the comprehensive reconstruction of Gaza with international funding coordinated through the Board of Peace, measures that would not just provide immediate humanitarian relief but also supply infrastructure investment that generates jobs and convinces Gazans of the merits of the peace deal. In the long run, the United States must clearly link success in Gaza to final status negotiations that provide a credible pathway to a Palestinian state.

In Gaza, the United States must avoid Oslo’s mistake of indefinitely deferring final status issues.

For Israel, the promise of a transformational Abraham Accords agreement with Saudi Arabia—a goal Netanyahu has long pursued—could be made contingent on meaningful progress in Gaza coupled with the reform of the Palestinian Authority and the development of a framework for negotiations toward a Palestinian state. The United States should also guarantee Israel’s qualitative military edge, share advanced intelligence on Hamas and other regional threats, and offer diplomatic support in international forums. These incentives, however, must be explicitly conditioned on Israel fulfilling its end of the bargain. For example, any increase in military aid should be tied to Israel freezing the construction of settlements and withdrawing to agreed-upon lines in Gaza.

To regional partners, including Egypt, Jordan, and Saudi Arabia, the United States should offer enhanced trade agreements, development assistance, and greater diplomatic collaboration as inducements for supporting the peace process and contributing to the reconstruction of Gaza and the training of new Palestinian security forces. All incentives must be dependent on those countries delivering their promised contributions.

Durable peace requires security arrangements that protect all parties’ vital interests through layered guarantees, independent monitoring, and phased transitions that build confidence. In 1979, Israel’s withdrawal from Sinai went hand in hand with demilitarization, the deployment of a multinational observer forces, clear verification protocols, and the U.S.-backed Multinational Force and Observers that continues to operate today. In contrast, the greater strategic value of the Golan Heights made security guarantees far more difficult to structure and contributed to the failure of talks between Syria and Israel in the 1990s.

The International Stabilization Force envisioned in the Trump plan must have a clear, limited mandate focused on monitoring the disarmament of Hamas, preventing violence, and supporting the training of Palestinian security services. The force must be seen as absolutely neutral and trusted by both parties, requiring Arab and European contingents alongside any potential U.S. participation. Following the Egyptian-Israeli model, the United States should establish robust independent verification protocols for key benchmarks—Hamas disarmament, Israeli withdrawal, and the cessation of settlement expansion in the West Bank—using satellite monitoring, on-the-ground inspectors, and regular UN Security Council reporting.

Responsibility for security in Gaza should transfer gradually from international forces to Palestinian authorities. Each transition phase must include mechanisms for enforcing standards (such as reversibility clauses). The United States should work with regional partners—particularly Egypt and Jordan—to provide training and support for Palestinian police forces. Finally, the United States should facilitate ongoing trilateral security coordination among Israel, Palestinian authorities, and regional partners to ensure sustainable long-term arrangements.

If the United States wants the Gaza peace process to succeed, it must ensure that people on both sides experience immediate concrete improvements that help demonstrate the merits of the deal. For Palestinians, this means rapid humanitarian relief, reconstruction that creates jobs, and visible progress toward self-governance. For Israelis, this means greater security and the economic benefits that come with Israel’s closer integration in the region through the normalization of its ties with more of its Arab neighbors.

The costs of failure are immense. The catastrophe in Gaza would continue to smolder for many years to come, creating further turmoil not just for Israelis and Palestinians but for the region and beyond. The Trump administration would be well advised to consider the lessons of history if it wishes to avoid this fate.