America First, Diplomacy Last: Trump's Gaza Plan and the End of U.S. Diplomatic Pretense

Written by Lana Madkour (MSc Political Science, Conflict Studies and Comparative Politics)

Following his November 5th victory in the 2024 American Presidential Election, political analysts scrambled to understand Donald Trump and the Republican Party’s sweeping victory over the Democrats. What fuelled his striking comeback? Was it his isolationist, tariff- based economic policy? His vision of mass deportations?

Trump’s America First agenda, a continuation of his policy priority areas from his first term from 2016 to 2020, was a central focus of his campaign and has dominated his administration’s policymaking since his inauguration on January 20th. It prioritises U.S. economic and national interests by emphasising trade protectionism, strict immigration controls, reduced global military engagement, and a focus on domestic job growth and industry. This agenda resonated deeply with a growingly disillusioned American working class, who believe the “deep state” does not represent their economic interests.

However, in its implementation on the international stage, America first has not resulted in the expected isolationist foreign policy. Instead, what we are witnessing is a more unilateralist, nationalist, realist pursuit of US “vital interests.” Rather than a policy of non-engagement, the Trump administration has attempted to wield US hegemonic power to unilaterally affect foreign policy on the international stage with no regard to international treatises or norms, or even the historical nature of US foreign policy.

A clear manifestation of this is the Trump administration’s new Gaza policy, in which the president proposed an American occupation of the Gaza Strip and the forced permanent relocation of Palestinians living in Gaza into Egypt and Jordan. This article will explore the key elements of Trump’s plan for Gaza, illustrating his administration’s break with decades-long US foreign policy on Palestine.

Trump's Gaza: The Carrot as the Stick

At a joint press conference with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, President Trump pitched his vision for Gaza as the ‘Riviera of the Middle East,’ a statement that quickly went viral and drew international backlash. The former real estate mogul pitched his vision for Gaza, describing it as a “demolition site” needing to be “cleaned out,” over which the United States would assume a long-term ownership-style position, building “one of the greatest and most spectacular developments” on earth. When asked whether Jordan and Egypt, who immediately responded to Trump’s plan with condemnation and refusal to comply, would accept the forced resettlement of nearly 2 million Palestinians into their territory with no right to return, President Trump simply claimed they would do it.

A marvellous feat, for a sitting president to claim that Jordan and Egypt, two countries in the Arab world that have collaborated with the United States and Israel but have stood firm on their commitments to the Palestinians’ right of return, would abandon their long-standing commitment to Palestinian rights under U.S. pressure. But how does Trump expect to make this happen? The answer: foreign aid. Often framed as an act of generosity, foreign aid is, in reality, one of the most effective tools for advancing U.S. foreign policy goals. The strategic and commercial interests of states are echoed through their foreign aid programs. The Trump administration’s historic “stop-work order,” issued on January 24th just 4 days into his presidency, halted all foreign aid disbursements and froze new programs – except for Israel and Egypt, the only two nations spared from the cuts. American aid sent to Egypt acts as carrot – if the threat of aid withdrawal is on the table, Trump can reasonably flex this threat as a muscle to coerce Egypt (and other countries he continues to provide aid to) to acquiesce to his demands. Cumulatively, the United States has sent nearly USD$90 billion since 1946 to Egypt in direct foreign assistance, with the annual number increasing significantly in the years following Egypt’s 1979 peace treaty with Israel. Given the internal political and economic turmoil experienced by President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi in Egypt, and the country’s historic reliance on foreign aid to avoid sovereign debt default and to quell dissatisfaction with the regime internally, the carrot of foreign aid is certainly an important one in the United States’ relationship with Egypt. Trump’s willingness to leverage foreign aid demonstrates the hegemonic, unilateral dimension of America First as foreign policy: any post-Gaza regional order must abide by Trump’s rules, and regional allies have virtually no say in the matter. While the Arab states gather in Saudi Arabia to develop an alternative to Trump’s plan of forced displacement and ethnic cleansing in Gaza, a rift is growing between them and the United States. Trump has made very clear his “my way or the highway” position and his willingness to terminate foreign assistance to states that do not collaborate with him on executing his vision. For Egypt and Jordan, the choice is stark: resist Trump’s demands and risk losing critical U.S. support or comply and face the consequences of legitimising Gaza’s forced displacement.

The U.S.' Traditional Stance Towards Palestine

Trump’s Gaza plan is not just internationally controversial—it marks a decisive break from decades of U.S. foreign policy on Palestine. Historically, the United States has remained committed to a two-state solution, touting the importance of the “equal measures of freedom, security and prosperity” for both Israelis and Palestinians. Officially, Washington has been careful to toe the line of staunch support for Israel as the “lone democracy of the Middle East” while maintaining rhetorical support for Palestinian rights.

This concern for Palestinian self-determination and prosperity has been in name only. Cumulatively, since 1946, the United States has sent Israel $310 billion in combined military and economic assistance. Israel receives more than twice the U.S. military assistance of Egypt, the second-largest recipient. This military support has been used to supply Israel with advanced, American-manufactured weaponry including F-35 fighter jets, precision-guided munitions, and missile defense systems. Following the Hamas-led October 7th attack in 2023, the United States made more than one hundred military aid transfers to Israel, with only six have met the congressional review threshold and have been made public. On the international stage, the United States has used its veto power on the UN Security Council 49 times to block Israel- related UN Security Council draft resolutions. In 2023 and 2024, the US blocked 3 separate resolutions brought to the Security Council that were overwhelmingly supported by the international community. While the Biden administration publicly urged Israel to limit civilian casualties and abide by the laws of war in its assault on Gaza following October 7th, it continued to arm Israel and expedite weapons shipments despite the consistent crossing of the administration’s so-called “red line.” When met with strong internal opposition to its consistent and unwavering support of Israel despite its slaughter of Palestinian civilians in Gaza, rather than restrict or condition aid, the Biden administration built a “humanitarian pier” to deploy aid in the assailed territory, which was ultimately dismantled after fire, weather, and distribution struggles impeded the project from delivering as much aid as hoped. Historically, US condemnation of Israel has been just that: condemnation. No tangible action has been taken by recent administrations to practically reign Israel in or hold it to international law: instead, the US’ “commitment to human rights” has been a commitment for show, for safeguarding its position as the global protector of human rights.

The Trump administration is saying the quiet part out loud. They are no longer willing to placate the international community with meaningless resolutions or discussions about an imaginary red line that will forever be moved in accordance with Israel’s behavior. Instead, the Trump administration has adopted an outright policy of forced displacement and ethnic cleansing. Previous administrations at least maintained the appearance of adhering to international norms. Trump has discarded that pretense entirely. This pattern extends beyond Gaza – Trump’s approach to tariffs, mass deportations, and withdrawal from global agreements reflects the same disregard for international consensus. The implications are irreversible: the world’s leading superpower has openly endorsed permanent forced displacement and territorial annexation. This plan, hailed by the Israeli far right as essential to the end of war with the enclave, represents Trump’s rejection of mainstream politics and his desire to engage in a politics of domination, interference, and American exceptionalism. Trump has no interest in diplomacy – only domination. His vision is not up for debate; it is to be imposed. To him, America First is not just the prioritisation of American interests domestically: it is a mandate to reshape the world in his image.