T
he Washington Post’s August 31 coverage of a U.S.–Israeli proposal for Gaza was largely ignored by Israeli outlets. The plan, first discussed in late April, calls for a full military takeover of the Strip, the expulsion of its residents, and the demolition of their homes. Once the territory is cleared, the land would be handed over to an international real‑estate trust set up in partnership with the U.S. government. U.S. and Israeli investors would dominate the venture, with the United Arab Emirates positioned as a key Arab partner. This scheme is being advanced by the Trump administration and Prime Minister Netanyahu’s government as a new political and economic model for Palestine.

    Under the proposal, Israel would not retain permanent control of Gaza. Instead, it would transfer the area to a private company that would exercise both political and economic authority. The arrangement echoes colonial practices of the past, such as the British East India Company’s rule over India, the British company’s control of parts of Nigeria in 1886, and the Congo Free State under King Leopold II. Critics argue that the plan is a modern form of imperialism, trading a populated territory for corporate profit.

    The core principle of the scheme is profit. Since World War I, permanent transfer of territories between powers has been politically unacceptable, so the plan frames Gaza as a “trust” for a decade. The trust would be governed by commercial interests rather than international law, with the sole aim of maximizing returns. Developers claim that 30 % of Gaza’s land is public and will be granted to the trust as a management fee, while the remaining 70 % will be acquired through various means that give the appearance of legality.

    Residents who are persuaded to leave will receive a digital token in exchange for their property rights. The token is supposed to allow them to “start a new life,” but the only destinations offered are crisis‑ridden countries such as Libya, South Sudan, Ethiopia, or Somalia. Those who stay are promised the possibility of future housing in investor‑built cities, but no concrete compensation is provided. The plan also offers a severance package: $5,000 in cash per person and a year’s worth of food, a move that critics say serves as a threat rather than genuine support.

    The proposal has been described as a “colonial investor partnership” that treats Gaza and its people as mere assets. It removes the Strip from direct Israeli annexation, instead placing it under a private entity that blends political control with economic exploitation. The U.S. and Israeli investors would reap the benefits, while the Palestinians would lose sovereignty and property rights. The plan’s supporters argue that Palestinians lack sovereignty, so Israel is free to transfer the territory to whomever it chooses.

    This strategy is reminiscent of post‑World War II arrangements in Germany, Japan, and the Pacific Islands, though critics dismiss such comparisons as inaccurate. The reality is a return to classic imperialism, where colonies are taken over and traded. The Gaza plan is a contemporary example of that model, with the added twist of a corporate trust and digital tokens.

    In summary, the U.S.–Israeli proposal envisions a military takeover of Gaza, the removal of its residents, and the demolition of their homes. The cleared land would be transferred to a real‑estate trust backed by U.S. and Israeli investors, with the UAE as a key partner. Residents would be offered digital tokens and a severance package, but no meaningful compensation for their land or rights. The plan prioritizes profit over people, echoing colonial practices of the past and raising serious concerns about sovereignty, legality, and human rights.