The Guardian’s Dilemma: Why No Nation Wants to Enforce a Gaza Peace 

Based on King Abdullah II of Jordan’s recent comments, the international community faces a critical impediment to stabilizing Gaza, as nations are willing to participate in traditional peacekeeping with local consent but will refuse any mandate for “peace enforcement,” which involves imposing order through military coercion in the still-volatile conflict zone; this fundamental distinction, compounded by regional complexities like Jordan’s significant Palestinian population and the unresolved political status of Hamas, means that without a prior, durable political agreement between the warring parties, any proposed international security force is doomed to fail, leaving military intervention a non-starter and highlighting that the path forward must be diplomatic rather than imposed by foreign troops.

The Guardian’s Dilemma: Why No Nation Wants to Enforce a Gaza Peace 

The offer seems straightforward on paper: send in international troops to secure a ceasefire and help rebuild a shattered territory. For the people of Gaza, it could mean the difference between a tentative peace and a return to relentless conflict. For the world powers watching, it’s a proposition fraught with peril, a potential quagmire that even the most seasoned nations are hesitant to enter. 

This is the core of the warning delivered by King Abdullah II of Jordan in a recent, revealing interview with the BBC. His message cuts to the heart of the international community’s paralysis over Gaza: countries might be willing to keep a peace, but they will outright refuse to enforce one. This distinction, seemingly semantic, is in fact the line between a manageable mission and a geopolitical nightmare. 

The Chasm Between Peacekeeping and Peace Enforcement 

To understand the global reluctance, we must first dissect the crucial difference King Abdullah highlighted. 

Peacekeeping, in its ideal form, is a mission of consent. It operates like a neutral referee on a football field, present only because both teams have agreed to the rules and the referee’s authority. These “Blue Helmets” (a term derived from UN missions) monitor ceasefires, support local authorities, and provide a buffer between former belligerents. Their weapons are primarily for self-defence. Their power derives from their legitimacy in the eyes of the conflicting parties. 

Peace Enforcement, by contrast, is a combat mission. It involves entering a hostile environment where one or more parties have not consented to your presence. The mandate is to impose peace through coercive means, including military force. This is not refereeing a game; it is stepping into an active battlefield and picking a side, or disarming combatants by force. 

The Trump administration’s proposed plan for Gaza, which calls for Arab states and international partners to commit “stabilisation forces,” sits in a dangerous grey area. The stated goal is to “train and provide support to vetted Palestinian police forces.” But this plan is contingent on Hamas disarming and relinquishing political control—a scenario that currently exists only in theory. 

On the ground, the reality is starkly different. Hamas remains armed and active, other militant groups are operating, and Israel continues its military operations. Sending foreign troops into this cauldron without a clear, consensual peace deal is not a peacekeeping mission; it is an invitation to become a new actor in the conflict. 

Jordan’s Calculated Distance: A Lesson from History 

King Abdullah’s declaration that he would not send Jordanian troops into Gaza because his country is “too close politically” is a masterclass in strategic understatement. It reflects a deep and painful understanding of regional history and domestic stability. 

With over half of Jordan’s population being of Palestinian descent, the kingdom has long been a crucial, if sometimes precarious, pillar for Palestinian refugees. Sending Jordanian soldiers to potentially engage in combat with Palestinian factions in Gaza would be politically explosive at home. It would risk framing the Hashemite monarchy as doing the bidding of Israel and the United States against fellow Arabs, a perception that could destabilize the kingdom itself. 

Jordan’s role, as the King envisions it, is one of support from the periphery: training Palestinian police, providing medical evacuations, and parachuting aid. This allows Jordan to uphold its pan-Arab and pro-Palestinian credentials while avoiding the bloody, no-win scenario of urban peace enforcement. It is a lesson learned from decades of watching foreign powers get bogged down in the Middle East’s most intractable disputes. 

The “Beautiful Gesture” and the Excruciating Reality 

While the political machinations over security forces continue, a more immediate human tragedy is unfolding, and here, Jordan has taken a leading role. The King’s personal involvement in air-dropping aid and his successful appeal to President Trump to medically evacuate children offer a stark contrast to the security dilemma. 

The image of Habiba, the young girl who lost two arms and a leg, now safe in Jordan but forever scarred, is a microcosm of the conflict. Her evacuation, and that of 252 other children to Jordan, represents a rare, unimpeachable good in a war defined by moral ambiguity. Yet, even this humanitarian effort is hampered by the same political tensions. The World Health Organization’s description of the evacuation process as “excruciatingly slow” due to comprehensive security checks by Israel and host countries highlights a painful truth: in this conflict, even saving a child’s life is subject to the grinding wheels of security and bureaucracy. 

This juxtaposition is critical. It shows a world capable of coordinated compassion, as seen in the medical evacuations to Jordan, Egypt, and the UAE, yet utterly incapable of the political coordination required to stop the violence that creates the need for such evacuations in the first place. 

A Queen’s Defiance and a President’s Leverage 

Adding a powerful diplomatic and emotional layer to the King’s strategic analysis, Queen Rania’s comments provide a raw, human perspective. Her condemnation of the international community’s two-year failure is the cry of a parent, articulating the universal nightmare of helplessly watching one’s child suffer. 

Perhaps more surprisingly was her praise for President Trump, marking a significant departure from the traditional Arab critique of U.S. policy. Her acknowledgment that Trump was “the first president in a long time to actually apply pressure on Israel” is a telling indictment of previous approaches. It suggests that the relentless diplomatic and military support the U.S. provides Israel is its greatest point of leverage—a lever that previous administrations were unwilling to pull decisively. 

This creates a fascinating dynamic. The same U.S. president whose plan calls for a potentially unworkable security force is also credited by a key Arab leader as being the most effective in forcing a ceasefire. It underscores that in the Middle East, progress is often made through paradoxical and unpredictable means. 

Conclusion: The Path Forward is a Political Mirage, Not a Military Map 

The warnings from Jordan’s monarchs point to an inescapable conclusion: there is no military solution to the political problem of Gaza. An international force can only succeed as an outcome of a durable political agreement, not as a precursor to one. 

The world is not lacking in soldiers or equipment; it is lacking in the political will and consensus to create the conditions where those soldiers would be welcome. Until Hamas, Israel, and the Palestinian Authority reach a fundamental agreement on governance and security for Gaza, any international force deployed would find itself in the crossfire, its mandate unclear, its legitimacy contested, and its mission doomed to become another bloody chapter in the long history of the conflict. 

King Abdullah’s final, grim warning—”if we don’t solve this problem… we’re doomed”—is not hyperbole. It is a recognition that the alternative to the difficult, messy work of politics is a perpetual cycle of war and uneasy truce, where the only certainty is more suffering for the people of Gaza and continued instability for the entire region. The world may be willing to pick up the pieces, as the medical evacuations show, but without a political solution, no nation is willing to sign up for a mission impossible.