In the wake of the latest ceasefire agreement brokered by President Donald Trump, Israel finds itself once again at a crossroads between hope and hard reality. The deal, signed in Egypt with mediators including Qatar, Egypt, and notably Turkey, led to the release of all living Israeli hostages held by Hamas. In exchange, Israel released nearly 2,000 Palestinian prisoners and withdrew its forces to the so-called “yellow line.” But what followed was a grim reminder that peace, when built on shaky foundations, can quickly collapse.

Hamas wasted no time. Within days of the withdrawal, reports emerged of the group rearming and launching fresh attacks, this time from within civilian areas, using innocents as shields. The international forces entering Gaza now include troops from Turkey, a country whose leadership has long been openly hostile to Israel. To expect these forces to protect Israeli interests is not just naïve, it’s dangerous.

Israel has always dreamed of peace. From the Oslo Accords to the Abraham Accords, the nation has repeatedly extended its hand, hoping that diplomacy could replace decades of bloodshed. The Abraham Accords, signed under Trump’s leadership, were hailed as a historic breakthrough. Bahrain and the UAE, once adversaries, became partners. Israelis flocked to Dubai, enchanted by the vision of a new Middle East.

But was this transformation genuine? Or was it merely a geopolitical maneuver, driven by pressure and convenience?

As a pro-Israel activist, I saw the cracks early. Despite the treaties, I received threats—many from within the UAE. The message was clear: governments may sign peace deals, but the hearts of the people often remain unchanged. This isn’t just theory, it’s history repeating itself.

Take Egypt, for example. The 1979 peace treaty was a landmark moment. Yet, decades later, the animosity still simmers. In 2009, I encountered an Egyptian tour guide who proudly claimed Egypt “defeated” Israel in 1967, calling Jews “dirty Zionists.” I corrected him, reminding him that Israel won that war. His response? A chilling reminder that hatred doesn’t fade with time, it adapts and survives.

Egypt itself has transformed. In the late ’70s, its cities were modern, its women dressed freely. But extremism crept in, reshaping society. When I returned years later, the liberal Egypt I once knew was gone. Still, Israelis vacationed there, clinging to the illusion of peace.

Then came October 7. The massacre shocked the world. Hamas’s tunnel network, its arsenal of rockets, and its brutal tactics raised a haunting question: how did they build this war machine? Gaza shares a border with Egypt. Could such a buildup happen without Egypt’s knowledge or worse, its complicity?

Recent revelations suggest that Egypt’s President Sissi may be “playing both sides,” undermining the peace deal while maintaining diplomatic ties. This isn’t just betrayal; it’s a strategic threat.

And what of the United States? Today, Trump stands with Israel. But tomorrow, leadership could shift. Treaties are fragile. Political winds change. Israel cannot afford to hinge its survival on promises that may be broken.

The lesson is clear: Israel must rely on itself. Strength, security, and sovereignty cannot be outsourced. Trust must be earned and not given blindly. Peace is not a fantasy, it’s a fight. And in that fight, Israel must remain vigilant, resilient, and unapologetically strong.