After the Rubble: Can the World Build Lasting Security in Gaza?
“Genuine peace must be the product of many nations, the sum of many acts. It must be dynamic, not static, changing to meet the challenge of each new generation. For peace is a process.”
John F. Kennedy’s words—spoken more than six decades ago—feel less like history and more like a map when you stand at the edge of Gaza City and look over a landscape of broken concrete and impatient bulldozers. The city exhales dust and the scent of cardamom coffee from a nearby stall. Children dart between piles of rebar and sandbags. Somewhere, a radio plays the call to prayer and a vendor sells warm flatbreads with za’atar. Life insists itself into the cracks.
Talk of a new International Stabilisation Force to secure Gaza has resurfaced in diplomatic circles, part of a wider 20-point proposal circulated by international actors last year. The proposal sketches a role for multinational troops to create a secure environment for humanitarian relief, dismantle militant infrastructure and help train local police forces. It reads straightforwardly on paper; on the ground, it would be anything but.
Why nations even consider joining
For many countries—small and large—the impulse is moral and practical. Gaza is a densely packed strip of land of roughly 365 square kilometers where over two million people live. According to UN estimates from mid-2024, the enclave suffered infrastructure losses and displacement on a scale that will require decades of reconstruction. International actors say they cannot leave the vacuum. Someone must help create the conditions for hospitals, courts and schools to function again. Someone must ensure aid actually reaches people who need it.
“Security is the skeleton upon which everything else hangs,” says Dr. Leila Haddad, a political analyst who has worked with reconstruction projects across the Levant. “Without credible, neutral protection, you can pour millions into rebuilding walls and hospitals and still see them fail because the social and institutional foundations are missing.”
Ireland’s balancing act
Among the countries quietly weighing their options is Ireland—a nation whose identity is intertwined with blue-helmeted peacekeeping. For decades Irish troops have been a familiar presence with the UN’s Interim Force in Lebanon, where a small contingent has operated alongside thousands of other personnel. Irish defence officials note that the Lebanon mission has been a training ground in diplomacy, local engagement and hard-won restraint.
That engagement may be changing. UNIFIL and other regional footprints are evolving, and the Irish Defence Forces face a coming shift: their large overseas posting—now numbering in the low hundreds of personnel—is due for reassessment over the next few years. Officials stress that any future deployment would be considered “case by case,” but the conversation is alive.
“We bring credibility because we’ve been in the field long enough to know how to listen,” says Captain Aisling O’Connor, a retired officer who spent time in UN missions. “It’s not about flags and headlines. It’s about building relationships—quietly, day in and day out.”
What a mission would need
Concepts and courage are not enough. Former and current military planners are candid about what a stabilisation force in Gaza would require—and why the job is perilous.
- Clear mandate: A UN Security Council mandate, experts argue, is crucial for legitimacy. Without it, a multinational force risks being labelled an occupier rather than a protector.
- Capabilities: Modern surveillance, armed protection, armored vehicles, engineering corps to clear rubble safely, and logistical capacity to move aid quickly—all would be essential.
- Local partners: Trained police, judiciary support, and civil administrators must be in place to hand over authority and build trust.
- Longevity: Reconstruction is not a sprint. Analysts estimate that comprehensive rebuilding—restoring housing, water, electricity and institutions—could take decades.
“A stabilisation mission without clear, sustainable police and judicial structures is like building a house on sand,” says Professor Martin Keller, who teaches conflict resolution at Dublin University. “Military presence can create breathing space. But only institutions can hold the peace.”
The ghost of past interventions
Many remember Afghanistan and the frustration that followed: military boots provided security for a time; institutions struggled to take root; the political settlement collapsed. Those lessons sit uneasily in the minds of policy-makers. “We must not rush in with good intentions and little planning,” says Eoin Byrne, who coordinates humanitarian projects in the region. “Afghanistan teaches that security can be temporary if not married to political settlement.”
There are practical hurdles too. Reports and observers have highlighted the continued presence of armed groups within Gaza’s crowded neighbourhoods. Some of these actors have moved to reassert control even as external powers talk of stabilisation. The result: any foreign force could encounter persistent resistance—intended or unintended—if local actors feel marginalized.
Politics, legitimacy and the UN
Paris and Berlin have pushed for a United Nations-led approach to bring legitimacy to any stabilisation effort. A UN umbrella would reduce the perception of unilateral intervention and ideally foster burden-sharing among nations. But not every influential actor has unequivocally backed a UN-led model—raising questions about funding, command structure and who ultimately decides on the rules of engagement.
“Legitimacy is not a luxury. It is a necessity,” says Dr. Haddad. “Without broad international legitimacy, a force risks becoming a target in the eyes of many people it aims to protect.”
In the corridors of Irish politics, statements have been cautious. Senior ministers have said it is too soon to commit, preferring to keep an “open mind” while the diplomatic shape of any mission remains uncertain. Opposition voices in Dublin have argued that Ireland’s historic peacekeeping pedigree makes it well placed to contribute—but only with the right legal mandate and capabilities.
Human stories, long shadows
Back in Gaza, Amira—who asked to be identified only by her first name—bends over a tray of dates and waits for the afternoon lull to sell to passersby. “You hear the talk of forces and plans,” she says, eyes steady. “But I think of my children. I want the school to open. I want the clinic to have medicine. Will that happen next week? Next year? I do not know.”
Her uncertainty is the story’s heartbeat. Nations can debate strategy and capabilities, but the people living amid rubble will measure success in small, intimate terms: a drum of clean water, a safe route to school, the confident stride of a police officer who protects rather than intimidates.
So what does the world owe Gaza? Is it enough to send boots and bricks, or must the international community commit to a longer, humbler form of presence—one that invests in courts and teachers as much as in armored vehicles?
These are questions every reader should wrestle with, because the task ahead is not the job of a single state or a quiet battalion. It is, in the old sense of the word, our common work. And if peace is truly a process, it will be judged not by a single diplomatic summit but by the patient, often invisible acts that let a city inhale again.
