Geopolitical actors leverage Gaza reconstruction to advance corporate and geostrategic interests, sidelining Palestinian sovereignty and systemic root causes of conflict

Palestinian indigeneity is erased in favor of corporate and geopolitical narratives that frame Gaza’s future as a market opportunity rather than a site of decolonial struggle. Traditional Palestinian land tenure systems, which emphasize communal stewardship over private ownership, are incompatible with DP World’s port-centric model, which prioritizes global trade flows over local sovereignty. Indigenous knowledge on resilience (e.g., sumud) is co-opted into narratives of 'rebuilding' while the root causes of displacement—settler colonialism—remain unaddressed.

The 'Board of Peace' echoes past imperial interventions in the Middle East, from the Sykes-Picot Agreement to the Oslo Accords, which framed Palestinian dispossession as a 'peace process.' DP World’s involvement in Gaza repeats the pattern of Arab states and corporations profiting from Palestinian suffering, as seen in the UAE’s normalization deals with Israel. Historical precedents show that 'reconstruction' under occupation serves to entrench control, not liberation—e.g., the post-2005 Gaza disengagement, which facilitated Israeli blockade expansion.

In Latin America, 'peace' initiatives often mask extractivist agendas (e.g., mining in Colombia), while in Africa, corporate-led 'development' projects displace communities for infrastructure (e.g., Ethiopia’s Grand Renaissance Dam). Indigenous movements globally reject such models, advocating for land restitution and self-determination. The Gaza case reflects a broader pattern where 'peace' is a euphemism for neoliberal governance, as seen in the IMF’s structural adjustment programs imposed on post-conflict states.

Studies on post-conflict reconstruction (e.g., World Bank, UN-Habitat) show that top-down, corporate-led models fail without addressing root causes like occupation and settler colonialism. Economic research highlights how 'reconstruction aid' often flows to elites rather than affected populations, exacerbating inequality. The 'Board of Peace' lacks peer-reviewed frameworks for decolonial peacebuilding, instead relying on neoliberal metrics like 'economic growth' and 'stability,' which prioritize GDP over human security.

Artistic expressions from Gaza, such as embroidery (tatreez) or poetry, center Palestinian identity and resistance, contrasting with the sterile, transactional language of 'Board of Peace' negotiations. Spiritual traditions in Islam and Christianity emphasize justice ('adl) and mercy ('rahma) as prerequisites for peace, not corporate contracts. The erasure of these voices in mainstream narratives reflects a broader dehumanization of Palestinians, reducing them to passive beneficiaries of 'development.'

Scenario modeling suggests that corporate-led reconstruction will deepen Gaza’s dependency on external actors while failing to address structural violence, leading to recurrent cycles of violence. Alternative models, such as Palestinian-led cooperatives or regional solidarity networks (e.g., BDS), offer pathways to resilience but are excluded from elite discussions. The 'Board of Peace' risks normalizing apartheid by framing it as 'economic peace,' a model with precedents in South Africa’s post-apartheid era, where corporate interests often superseded justice.

The framing excludes Palestinian civil society organizations, women’s groups, and resistance movements that have long advocated for boycott and divestment as tools for liberation. It also sidelines the voices of Gazan youth, who have articulated visions of self-determination beyond neoliberal 'peace.' The narrative centers Western and Gulf elites (Trump, DP World, UAE) while treating Palestinians as objects of policy, not subjects of their own futures.