Trump’s Miami Peace Push: Will Rubio’s Hardline Pay Off in Gaza?

Paul Riverbank, 12/21/2025Miami summit wrestles with fragile Gaza ceasefire, elusive peace, and Rubio’s hardline stabilization push.

Steve Witkoff, whose role as President Trump’s envoy has made him a familiar face in these circles, stepped out briefly to post a message online: “Full commitment to the President’s 20-point peace plan,” he wrote. It was succinct, direct—a contrast to the back-and-forth inside, where specifics kept escaping agreement. The world insists on restraint, yet missiles and mortars need little translation when they thunder through the city.

On the ground, Friday was another lesson in uneven progress. Gaza’s battered civil defense teams reported six more dead following Israeli shellfire that struck a shelter. That's 400 lives lost since the supposed calm began, according to their counts. Israel counters these accusations with its own—Hamas, they say, is violating the truce repeatedly. The Israeli military’s own toll: three soldiers since autumn, and grief that rarely makes the front page.

Still, diplomats in Miami tried to needle meaning into the thin line between peace and war. Incremental changes surfaced—aid convoys edged over border roads battered by previous strikes; several hostages’ bodies returned after months of silence; in a few neighborhoods, evidence that both Hamas fighters and regular Israeli patrols had pulled back, even if just for now. The ceasefire, such as it was, had slowed the bloodshed. But “slowed” is not “stopped,” and no one was pretending otherwise.

One source from the U.S. delegation, perhaps weary or perhaps simply honest, mentioned the next hurdle: building a stopgap government for Gaza. Not tomorrow, not even next week, but soon, they promised. The idea—set in writing but blurry in detail—was for Israel to gradually withdraw, handing keys to a newly formed local authority, freeing the Strip from Hamas. But these are ambitions, and implementing them is a different story altogether.

Meanwhile, Secretary of State Marco Rubio was busy rallying support for a stabilization force—boots from countries who, until now, preferred influence from afar. “We need more commitments,” Rubio repeated, urging partners to offer troops for the international mission. He didn’t mince words: if Hamas refused to lay down arms, then plans would “unravel.” Around the edges, diplomats exchanged glances—few seemed eager to fill that potential vacuum.

As the talks dragged on, officials warned that pressure wasn’t going away. Everyone in the negotiating rooms knew the risks of failing. But outside those circles, Gaza’s families waited with quieter expectations. For them, peace remains an abstraction, overshadowed by curfews and air raid sirens, aid trucks caught in limbo.

So as Miami’s air grew heavier with anticipation and fatigue, the world watched and waited. Discussions went late into the night, papers shuffled, statements revised. And still, the core question lingered: when does the fighting actually end? Even the architects of peace confessed, quietly, that they didn’t know. Not yet.

If you’d wandered into the Miami summit this week, you might have felt the undercurrent more than the headlines. Around a polished table sat representatives of the U.S., Qatar, Egypt, and Türkiye—each one carrying with them a blend of grave determination and visible strain. The ceasefire “phase one,” they called it, though even that sounded tentative as negotiations stumbled forward, burdened by the weight of nearly daily violence in Gaza.Steve Witkoff, whose role as President Trump’s envoy has made him a familiar face in these circles, stepped out briefly to post a message online: “Full commitment to the President’s 20-point peace plan,” he wrote. It was succinct, direct—a contrast to the back-and-forth inside, where specifics kept escaping agreement. The world insists on restraint, yet missiles and mortars need little translation when they thunder through the city.On the ground, Friday was another lesson in uneven progress. Gaza’s battered civil defense teams reported six more dead following Israeli shellfire that struck a shelter. That's 400 lives lost since the supposed calm began, according to their counts. Israel counters these accusations with its own—Hamas, they say, is violating the truce repeatedly. The Israeli military’s own toll: three soldiers since autumn, and grief that rarely makes the front page.Still, diplomats in Miami tried to needle meaning into the thin line between peace and war. Incremental changes surfaced—aid convoys edged over border roads battered by previous strikes; several hostages’ bodies returned after months of silence; in a few neighborhoods, evidence that both Hamas fighters and regular Israeli patrols had pulled back, even if just for now. The ceasefire, such as it was, had slowed the bloodshed. But “slowed” is not “stopped,” and no one was pretending otherwise.One source from the U.S. delegation, perhaps weary or perhaps simply honest, mentioned the next hurdle: building a stopgap government for Gaza. Not tomorrow, not even next week, but soon, they promised. The idea—set in writing but blurry in detail—was for Israel to gradually withdraw, handing keys to a newly formed local authority, freeing the Strip from Hamas. But these are ambitions, and implementing them is a different story altogether.Meanwhile, Secretary of State Marco Rubio was busy rallying support for a stabilization force—boots from countries who, until now, preferred influence from afar. “We need more commitments,” Rubio repeated, urging partners to offer troops for the international mission. He didn’t mince words: if Hamas refused to lay down arms, then plans would “unravel.” Around the edges, diplomats exchanged glances—few seemed eager to fill that potential vacuum.As the talks dragged on, officials warned that pressure wasn’t going away. Everyone in the negotiating rooms knew the risks of failing. But outside those circles, Gaza’s families waited with quieter expectations. For them, peace remains an abstraction, overshadowed by curfews and air raid sirens, aid trucks caught in limbo.So as Miami’s air grew heavier with anticipation and fatigue, the world watched and waited. Discussions went late into the night, papers shuffled, statements revised. And still, the core question lingered: when does the fighting actually end? Even the architects of peace confessed, quietly, that they didn’t know. Not yet.