Gaza, Reimagined as an Asset Class

Gaza’s rubble isn’t a tragedy in this plan—it’s a business opportunity. The GREAT Trust masterplan treats the destruction of an entire society as a blank slate for profit, promising investors a tenfold return while Palestinians are shuffled, surveilled, or shipped off. This isn’t urban planning; it’s venture capital with bulldozers, a dystopian vision where aid is militarized, neighbourhoods are tokenized, and “deradicalization” is a prerequisite for citizenship.

The GREAT Trust’s plan can be found HERE on the Washington Post’s website

A War Zone, Reimagined as a Playground

The GREAT Trust plan doesn’t just aim to rebuild Gaza—it proposes to wipe it clean and start over, as though history, culture, and trauma were errors in need of correction. Gaza is declared “a demolished Iranian proxy” with “practically $0 worth,” a deficit narrative that justifies treating it as raw real estate waiting to be monetized.

Its proposed makeover is a fever dream of megaprojects: “six to eight AI-powered smart cities,” a “Trump Riviera” of artificial islands, and a “Musk Smart Manufacturing Zone.” These names alone reveal the priorities: this is less a blueprint for healing than a marketing pitch to billionaires. The rubble of a shattered city is recast as a blank canvas for speculation, a laboratory where tech tycoons and Gulf investors can remake a population under siege into a workforce for export-oriented industries.

The Trusteeship Trap: Occupation in Designer Packaging

At the heart of the plan is a governance scheme that feels like neocolonialism dressed up as innovation. Gaza would be run by a “multilateral trusteeship” with the U.S. in control and Israel retaining “overarching security rights.” Palestinians are largely absent from the plan’s decision-making structure—appearing mostly as “vetted” individuals to serve as guards, trainees, or low-level administrators.

The plan promises eventual Palestinian self-governance, but only after the population has been “deradicalized,” a word that frames Palestinian resistance as a pathology to be treated rather than a political reality born of decades of siege. Gaza’s political future is dictated by outside actors, and any sovereignty would come as a conditional gift, not a right.

This isn’t liberation or partnership; it’s occupation rebranded for the investment world.

Humanitarianism as a Security Operation

The so-called humanitarian vision of the GREAT Trust plan is chillingly clinical. Food and medical aid would be distributed via “contraband-free shipments” escorted by armed convoys. Refugees would live in “Humanitarian Transition Areas,” fenced-off zones where their every need—and movement—would be managed.

This isn’t aid; it’s population control. Humanitarian support is stripped of empathy and retooled as logistics. The plan reads like a counterinsurgency manual, one where Gazans are treated not as citizens but as variables in a supply chain.

Environmental Catastrophe, Rebranded as Luxury

The proposal’s environmental claims are a triumph of greenwashing. Desalination plants and solar panels are waved like magic wands, while the core projects—artificial islands, luxury resorts, sprawling highways—guarantee ecological devastation. Gaza’s fragile coastline will be dredged to build a playground for the wealthy, while climate realities like sea-level rise, collapsing aquifers, and heatwaves barely register.

This isn’t sustainability; it’s a climate time bomb wrapped in palm trees and infinity pools.

A Business Plan for Displacement

One of the most brazen aspects of the plan is how openly it treats mass displacement as a cost-saving measure. Up to a quarter of Gazans are expected never to return, a strategy that “saves $500M for every 1% relocated.” Families are offered relocation packages, not as reparations, but as buyouts.

At the same time, Gaza’s land will be tokenized and sold to investors. The plan proposes a “blockchain registry” where parcels of Palestinian land become digital assets to be traded globally. This financialization of territory is presented as progress: families can “redeem their tokens” for homes—assuming they stay. In reality, it’s a scheme to turn a people’s dispossession into a revenue stream.

The Plan’s True Priorities

If there’s one thing the GREAT Trust is honest about, it’s money. The document touts a “$385B return on a $100B investment,” “$37B in tax revenue for donor countries,” and a Gaza valued at “$324B by Year 10.” These numbers dwarf any mention of cultural restoration, trauma recovery, or Palestinian agency. Even the humanitarian section reads like a corporate slide deck: “Secure aid distribution network,” “contraband-free shipping,” “safe distribution sites.”

Gaza’s future is imagined not as a living community but as a profitable logistics hub: a militarized zone dressed up as a miracle of regional cooperation.

A Gilded Cage—and How to Stop It

The GREAT Trust masterplan is less about rebuilding Gaza and more about rebranding occupation as innovation. Its promises of “$324B in assets” and “$385B returns” mask a grim reality: a future where Palestinians are displaced, surveilled, and stripped of agency while their land becomes a speculative asset class. If implemented, this plan could cement Gaza’s transformation into a fortress economy—a territory controlled by foreign powers, militarized under the guise of security, and ecologically gutted by megaprojects designed for outsiders, not residents.

This vision is not just dystopian; it’s dangerous. It threatens to normalize mass displacement as a cost-saving strategy, reduce aid to an instrument of control, and erase Gaza’s cultural and historical identity. The global community cannot allow Gaza to become a model for disaster capitalism, where destruction is a pretext for profit.

A different path is possible—but it requires political courage and  sustained commitment to a long process. Here are five steps that could lay the groundwork for real regeneration:

1. Put Palestinian Agency at the Center: Rebuilding Gaza cannot be dictated by investors or foreign governments. Palestinians—refugees, residents, and diaspora—must lead reconstruction planning. International bodies should facilitate, not impose, frameworks that respect Palestinian sovereignty and decision-making.

2. Prioritize Justice and Accountability: Before new roads and skyscrapers, there must be a reckoning for the destruction that has made Gaza unlivable. War crimes investigations – on both sides of the front line, repair and reparations, and guarantees of safety are prerequisites for meaningful regeneration. Without justice, reconstruction will only perpetuate oppression and revenge.

3. Commit to Basic Needs Before Grand Projects: Instead of AI-powered megacities and luxury resorts, focus first on clean water, reliable electricity, healthcare, and dignified housing. Reconstruction should be guided by community needs, not by speculative development portfolios.

4. Build for Climate Resilience: Gaza is highly vulnerable to rising seas, heatwaves, and resource scarcity. Any plan must prioritize sustainable infrastructure, ecological restoration, and renewable energy systems rooted in local expertise, ensuring resilience rather than environmental exploitation.

5. Lift the Siege and Restore Freedom of Movement: No amount of investment can regenerate Gaza while its borders remain sealed and its population is trapped. Regeneration must begin with dismantling the blockade and guaranteeing Palestinians the right to move, trade, and rebuild freely.

All of this is not easy and a thorny path lies ahead, but the global community must reject visions that see Gaza only as a “bridge to Mediterranean markets” or a geopolitical trophy. The choice is stark: allow Gaza’s suffering to be monetized and repackaged as innovation—or work collectively to restore dignity, sovereignty, and hope to a land that has been systematically shattered from the outside and its inside for decades. 

This isn’t just about Gaza’s future; it’s a test of whether the world chooses greed over dignity.

Cover image: wikipedia.org