Kushner’s Gaza Gamble: Bold Revamp Faces Fire Amid Missiles and Mistrust

Paul Riverbank, 1/25/2026Kushner’s Gaza rebuilding vision collides with bombs, political rifts, and mounting mistrust on all sides.

They didn’t linger. Next stop: Jerusalem, where winter runs toward sunlight and history weighs even heavier. Kushner and Witkoff met Prime Minister Netanyahu, with Joshua Greenbaum, the policy whisperer who prefers to stay out of photos, at their side. The agenda was crowded. Top of everyone’s list was Ran Gvili—the last Israeli hostage reported still somewhere in Gaza. His family arrived early at the prime minister’s office, clutching old photos and demanding that nothing—no money, no diplomatic promise—come before Ran’s return or recovery.

Yet Kushner wasn’t looking only backward. He brought what’s now his trademark—a PowerPoint and a big, unapologetic vision he whispers about in elevators, then lays out across a conference table. Gaza, he insisted, could be the “next Riviera.” Glass towers, hotels with infinity pools, container ships swinging through a new port. Headlines practically wrote themselves: $25 billion to build “hope out of rubble.” His premise: inject market forces, jobs, and the scent of normalcy, and perhaps the pattern of violence could break.

Eyebrows rose, but doubts were louder. In Geneva, a United Nations analyst grimaced when asked about the numbers. “It’s not just construction,” she said, “it’s removing 60 million tons of mangled debris, then sweeping for landmines. Years, not months.” Even so, some in Washington roll their eyes at UN estimates—one aide sniped, “Their timelines are as sluggish as their paperwork.”

Gazan voices are harder to find but sharper still. Ghassan Qudeeh, now living in a tent outside Rafah, snorted when I reached him by phone. “We hear all this before. Grand designs, never our choice. Always under their boots.” He stopped short; connection faded but not his frustration.

Among Israelis, the split is visceral. Finance Minister Smotrich all but thundered for a permanent military administration and flagged interest in new settlements. That notion, as one moderate in the cabinet confessed off record, “makes private investors bolt.” Security remains the thorn. Nomi Bar-Yaacov, a veteran with a knack for understatement, told me, “Israel won’t sign up for towers peering into army bases. You don’t give away a clear line of sight—certainly not now.”

Kushner’s “Board of Peace,” eclectic and oddly star-studded, includes regional names from Riyadh to Doha, with ex-officials like Tony Blair on hand for gravitas, and Marco Rubio, U.S. Secretary of State, offering American muscle. Notably absent in steering roles: Palestinians, though Ali Shaath—a seasoned planner—helps run what’s meant to be a temporary committee monitoring daily relief efforts.

On a practical front, there’s movement. Aid convoys and inspectors hinted at the imminent reopening of the battered Rafah crossing. Humanitarian leaders, ever wary, called it “step one”—the phrase always spoken with a half-shrug now.

Yet every vision of “New Gaza” stumbles over grim reality. Real estate magnates are tentatively enthusiastic, but as Yakir Gabay put it, “No one invests seriously when Katyusha rockets are a risk." At Davos, Kushner reduced it to basics: “No security, no investment. End of story.”

Momentum, such as it is, suffers both from grand disputes and pedestrian snags. At the glossy unveiling of the new board, Netanyahu and Israel’s presidency sparred over public credit, leaving a glaringly empty chair in the photo op—a visual hiccup that said more than their prepared statements.

Across all of this, shelling in Gaza hasn’t stopped. The human toll keeps climbing, and the longer those in power deliberate, the more fragile what hope remains.

Older peacemaking efforts—Oslo, Camp David—still shadow today’s ambitions, reminders that paper, even when signed, can let people down as often as it lifts them up. This time the stakes feel raw. In Jerusalem, officials mutter about “crossroads.” In Gaza’s devastated streets, the word is still just “survival.” No one I met claimed certainty—just a trembling expectation that, sooner or later, something’s got to give. For now, Gaza waits, wary of both promises and the next round of bombs.

Snow drifted across Moscow’s avenues as Jared Kushner and developer Steve Witkoff pressed their coats tighter and hustled from their car to the Kremlin’s entrance. Inside, the world’s velocity seemed to stall, at least for an afternoon. They spoke for hours with President Putin—who, according to an American present, offered “open ears.” But while those talks unfolded, artillery was still shaking neighborhoods in Kyiv. Ukrainian President Zelensky wasn’t dismissive, calling the discussions “constructive,” though in private he sounded more resigned: “Real change isn’t in the rooms where they talk,” he remarked. Out in the gray Ukrainian afternoon, any hope clung like frost—fragile, dissipating with each new explosion.They didn’t linger. Next stop: Jerusalem, where winter runs toward sunlight and history weighs even heavier. Kushner and Witkoff met Prime Minister Netanyahu, with Joshua Greenbaum, the policy whisperer who prefers to stay out of photos, at their side. The agenda was crowded. Top of everyone’s list was Ran Gvili—the last Israeli hostage reported still somewhere in Gaza. His family arrived early at the prime minister’s office, clutching old photos and demanding that nothing—no money, no diplomatic promise—come before Ran’s return or recovery.Yet Kushner wasn’t looking only backward. He brought what’s now his trademark—a PowerPoint and a big, unapologetic vision he whispers about in elevators, then lays out across a conference table. Gaza, he insisted, could be the “next Riviera.” Glass towers, hotels with infinity pools, container ships swinging through a new port. Headlines practically wrote themselves: $25 billion to build “hope out of rubble.” His premise: inject market forces, jobs, and the scent of normalcy, and perhaps the pattern of violence could break.Eyebrows rose, but doubts were louder. In Geneva, a United Nations analyst grimaced when asked about the numbers. “It’s not just construction,” she said, “it’s removing 60 million tons of mangled debris, then sweeping for landmines. Years, not months.” Even so, some in Washington roll their eyes at UN estimates—one aide sniped, “Their timelines are as sluggish as their paperwork.”Gazan voices are harder to find but sharper still. Ghassan Qudeeh, now living in a tent outside Rafah, snorted when I reached him by phone. “We hear all this before. Grand designs, never our choice. Always under their boots.” He stopped short; connection faded but not his frustration.Among Israelis, the split is visceral. Finance Minister Smotrich all but thundered for a permanent military administration and flagged interest in new settlements. That notion, as one moderate in the cabinet confessed off record, “makes private investors bolt.” Security remains the thorn. Nomi Bar-Yaacov, a veteran with a knack for understatement, told me, “Israel won’t sign up for towers peering into army bases. You don’t give away a clear line of sight—certainly not now.”Kushner’s “Board of Peace,” eclectic and oddly star-studded, includes regional names from Riyadh to Doha, with ex-officials like Tony Blair on hand for gravitas, and Marco Rubio, U.S. Secretary of State, offering American muscle. Notably absent in steering roles: Palestinians, though Ali Shaath—a seasoned planner—helps run what’s meant to be a temporary committee monitoring daily relief efforts.On a practical front, there’s movement. Aid convoys and inspectors hinted at the imminent reopening of the battered Rafah crossing. Humanitarian leaders, ever wary, called it “step one”—the phrase always spoken with a half-shrug now.Yet every vision of “New Gaza” stumbles over grim reality. Real estate magnates are tentatively enthusiastic, but as Yakir Gabay put it, “No one invests seriously when Katyusha rockets are a risk." At Davos, Kushner reduced it to basics: “No security, no investment. End of story.”Momentum, such as it is, suffers both from grand disputes and pedestrian snags. At the glossy unveiling of the new board, Netanyahu and Israel’s presidency sparred over public credit, leaving a glaringly empty chair in the photo op—a visual hiccup that said more than their prepared statements.Across all of this, shelling in Gaza hasn’t stopped. The human toll keeps climbing, and the longer those in power deliberate, the more fragile what hope remains.Older peacemaking efforts—Oslo, Camp David—still shadow today’s ambitions, reminders that paper, even when signed, can let people down as often as it lifts them up. This time the stakes feel raw. In Jerusalem, officials mutter about “crossroads.” In Gaza’s devastated streets, the word is still just “survival.” No one I met claimed certainty—just a trembling expectation that, sooner or later, something’s got to give. For now, Gaza waits, wary of both promises and the next round of bombs.