Kushner and Witkoff Push Trump’s Bold Gaza Gamble Amid Moscow Showdown

Paul Riverbank, 1/25/2026Kushner, global leaders push an ambitious Gaza peace plan amid ongoing violence and diplomatic hurdles.

Their detour in Moscow kicked things off—a nearly four-hour face-to-face with Russia’s Vladimir Putin, discussing the ongoing violence in Ukraine. According to an American official close to the session, it was “very productive,” which is the sort of cautious optimism we’ve come to expect from these circles. Yet, no sooner had the envoys left their meeting than news trickled out of new missile attacks on Kyiv. The contrast was almost cinematic: talks move forward in warm conference rooms, but outside, the power flickers off for millions and bombs redraw the horizon. President Zelensky himself reportedly found the conversations “constructive,” although on the ground, the idea of imminent peace felt, as usual, more aspirational than concrete.

By sundown, Kushner and Witkoff’s focus had shifted again. In Jerusalem, they sat opposite Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu with senior advisor Josh Greenbaum. Under discussion: how to prop up a shaky ceasefire in Gaza, and—perhaps more prickly—how to move from the absence of war to the beginnings of genuine peace. The room’s energy was said to be cautiously collaborative, but tension simmered around the grim reality that, as of this week, the remains of the last Israeli hostage, Ran Gvili, have yet to be recovered. “We see this as non-negotiable,” an Israeli official said. Gvili’s family echoed the sentiment, urging leaders to prioritize closure for them “before the next big plan for the region.”

But the strategy talk was not all about recovery and return. The conversation, I’m told, veered into the long-term: what Gaza could become, assuming the promise of peace holds. Kushner, channeling his Davos presentation earlier this year, argued for a kind of economic makeover—imagining Gaza as a Middle Eastern Riviera, with glass towers and, if not outright luxury, at least the prospect of prosperity. “Free market principles,” he said, a phrase familiar to anyone who watched American economic policy in the last decade, “that’s the future for Gaza. Give people a shot at a better life, and stability will follow.” Grand visions aside, everyone in the room knew the math. “No security, no investment,” Kushner summed up. Yet the numbers are already contested: Kushner cites $25 billion to rebuild the battered enclave; UN estimates run twice or even three times as high, and seasoned diplomats quietly predict a timetable spanning decades instead of years.

It turns out, even symbolic details can stall momentum. The White House hoped Israel’s president, Isaac Herzog, would join a show of unity on a Davos stage at the Board of Peace’s unveiling. But Netanyahu pushed back, asserting he—not Herzog—was the true invitee. Talks dragged on late into the night, with no resolution; in the end, there was an empty chair where an Israeli dignitary should have been, and some onlookers wondered, not for the first time, whether the message was one of half-hearted endorsement.

Practical milestones do emerge, though. The Rafah crossing—Gaza’s sole conduit to Egypt and, by extension, the outside world—is set to reopen within days, providing a sliver of hope for Gazans trapped by war and blockade. This move came with cautious nods from aid organizations and a statement by the US-backed transitional Palestinian committee, which now oversees aspects of the border. “It’s a start,” said a UN relief worker, “but we’ve seen ‘starts’ collapse before.”

Driving all these efforts is the so-called Board of Peace, a sprawling, sometimes unwieldy collection of 35 leaders and officials. US Secretary of State Marco Rubio and former British Prime Minister Tony Blair now co-chair the Board; their challenge is nothing less than bringing together Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Israel, and the Palestinians under a single tent—no small feat, even for seasoned statesmen.

Of course, progress is measured in inches, not miles. Throughout the talks, Israeli strikes continued in Gaza, the cost of silence growing more obvious with each breaking news alert. The gap between aspiration and reality—between blueprints for sparkling towers and the ruins still smoking—is, for now, where this story sits.

As an observer, it’s hard not to recall similar moments from other high-stakes negotiations—Circa the Camp David Accords, or even the Oslo years—where well-choreographed summits gave way, in time, to old patterns and new grievances. The difference this time might be the scale of global engagement, or perhaps the mounting sense of urgency underneath all the political theater. Whether this Board of Peace can deliver more than a photo op, and replace waiting with genuine forward movement, is—at least for now—an open question. For millions caught in the crosshairs, the world’s eyes remain fixed as hope and history continue their uneasy dance.

It’s not every day that top-level negotiators shuffle from the snow of Moscow straight to the Mediterranean haze of Jerusalem, but that’s exactly what Jared Kushner and Steve Witkoff managed last week. Their itinerary made plain just how tangled global diplomacy has become—and how, behind the shaking of hands and hurried plane rides, the business of making peace still runs into some remarkably old obstacles.Their detour in Moscow kicked things off—a nearly four-hour face-to-face with Russia’s Vladimir Putin, discussing the ongoing violence in Ukraine. According to an American official close to the session, it was “very productive,” which is the sort of cautious optimism we’ve come to expect from these circles. Yet, no sooner had the envoys left their meeting than news trickled out of new missile attacks on Kyiv. The contrast was almost cinematic: talks move forward in warm conference rooms, but outside, the power flickers off for millions and bombs redraw the horizon. President Zelensky himself reportedly found the conversations “constructive,” although on the ground, the idea of imminent peace felt, as usual, more aspirational than concrete.By sundown, Kushner and Witkoff’s focus had shifted again. In Jerusalem, they sat opposite Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu with senior advisor Josh Greenbaum. Under discussion: how to prop up a shaky ceasefire in Gaza, and—perhaps more prickly—how to move from the absence of war to the beginnings of genuine peace. The room’s energy was said to be cautiously collaborative, but tension simmered around the grim reality that, as of this week, the remains of the last Israeli hostage, Ran Gvili, have yet to be recovered. “We see this as non-negotiable,” an Israeli official said. Gvili’s family echoed the sentiment, urging leaders to prioritize closure for them “before the next big plan for the region.”But the strategy talk was not all about recovery and return. The conversation, I’m told, veered into the long-term: what Gaza could become, assuming the promise of peace holds. Kushner, channeling his Davos presentation earlier this year, argued for a kind of economic makeover—imagining Gaza as a Middle Eastern Riviera, with glass towers and, if not outright luxury, at least the prospect of prosperity. “Free market principles,” he said, a phrase familiar to anyone who watched American economic policy in the last decade, “that’s the future for Gaza. Give people a shot at a better life, and stability will follow.” Grand visions aside, everyone in the room knew the math. “No security, no investment,” Kushner summed up. Yet the numbers are already contested: Kushner cites $25 billion to rebuild the battered enclave; UN estimates run twice or even three times as high, and seasoned diplomats quietly predict a timetable spanning decades instead of years.It turns out, even symbolic details can stall momentum. The White House hoped Israel’s president, Isaac Herzog, would join a show of unity on a Davos stage at the Board of Peace’s unveiling. But Netanyahu pushed back, asserting he—not Herzog—was the true invitee. Talks dragged on late into the night, with no resolution; in the end, there was an empty chair where an Israeli dignitary should have been, and some onlookers wondered, not for the first time, whether the message was one of half-hearted endorsement.Practical milestones do emerge, though. The Rafah crossing—Gaza’s sole conduit to Egypt and, by extension, the outside world—is set to reopen within days, providing a sliver of hope for Gazans trapped by war and blockade. This move came with cautious nods from aid organizations and a statement by the US-backed transitional Palestinian committee, which now oversees aspects of the border. “It’s a start,” said a UN relief worker, “but we’ve seen ‘starts’ collapse before.”Driving all these efforts is the so-called Board of Peace, a sprawling, sometimes unwieldy collection of 35 leaders and officials. US Secretary of State Marco Rubio and former British Prime Minister Tony Blair now co-chair the Board; their challenge is nothing less than bringing together Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Israel, and the Palestinians under a single tent—no small feat, even for seasoned statesmen.Of course, progress is measured in inches, not miles. Throughout the talks, Israeli strikes continued in Gaza, the cost of silence growing more obvious with each breaking news alert. The gap between aspiration and reality—between blueprints for sparkling towers and the ruins still smoking—is, for now, where this story sits.As an observer, it’s hard not to recall similar moments from other high-stakes negotiations—Circa the Camp David Accords, or even the Oslo years—where well-choreographed summits gave way, in time, to old patterns and new grievances. The difference this time might be the scale of global engagement, or perhaps the mounting sense of urgency underneath all the political theater. Whether this Board of Peace can deliver more than a photo op, and replace waiting with genuine forward movement, is—at least for now—an open question. For millions caught in the crosshairs, the world’s eyes remain fixed as hope and history continue their uneasy dance.