Ceasefire Must Translate Into Inclusive Middle East Peace

Mostafa Kamal Majumder.

Mostafa Kamal Majumder

The ceasefire between Iran and Israel, brokered under intense international pressure and announced by U.S. President Donald Trump, marks a pivotal moment in Middle Eastern geopolitics. While the truce remains tenuous, it is a testament to Iran’s resilience in the face of overwhelming military pressure from both Israel and the United States. As President Trump himself acknowledged, this was a war that “could have gone on for years” but was halted through a combination of diplomacy and determination.

Iran’s ability to withstand a coordinated assault—one that included U.S. strikes on its nuclear facilities and Israeli bombardments for 12 days—speaks volumes about the nation’s strategic depth and societal fortitude. In a region where many states might have buckled under such pressure, Iran not only endured but signaled its capacity to continue the struggle if necessary. This endurance, however, should not be mistaken for belligerence. Rather, it reflects a broader narrative of resistance against unilateralism and exclusion.

Yet, to focus solely on the ceasefire is to miss the forest for the trees. The truce, while welcome, is not peace. It is a pause—a moment to reflect on the deeper structural injustices that have plagued the region for decades. Chief among them is the continued marginalization of the Palestinian people. No sustainable peace can emerge while millions remain stateless, voiceless, and subjected to systemic oppression. The illusion of an “island of peace” surrounded by turmoil is not only morally untenable but strategically unsound.

History offers sobering lessons. The Arab-Israeli wars of 1967 and 1973 ended in truces and even earned Nobel Peace Prizes for leaders like Anwar Sadat and Menachem Begin. Yet, they failed to deliver lasting peace. The Oslo Accords of 1993, signed with great fanfare on the White House lawn, promised a roadmap to Palestinian self-governance and mutual recognition between Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization. But the promise of Oslo was never fulfilled. The 2000 Camp David Summit, hosted by President Bill Clinton and attended by Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak and Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat, aimed to resolve final status issues but collapsed under the weight of irreconcilable differences—particularly over Jerusalem and the right of return.

Today’s ceasefire risks becoming another such moment, unless it is followed by genuine efforts toward inclusivity and justice. Middle Eastern nations have largely welcomed the truce, urging diplomacy to shape the future. Their support underscores a regional yearning for stability—not through domination, but through dialogue. Iran’s earlier threat to close the Strait of Hormuz, a vital artery for global oil exports, could have triggered a catastrophic energy crisis. That it did not materialize is a relief to a world already grappling with inflationary pressures. The ceasefire has, in effect, spared the global economy from a war-induced shock.

If human rights are indeed universal, then their selective application must be called out. Silence in the face of injustice is complicity. The international community, particularly Western powers and media, must confront their own biases. Too often, coverage of the Middle East is filtered through orientalist lenses that portray its peoples as inherently volatile or incapable of virtue. This narrative is not only false—it is dangerous. The region is home to some of the world’s oldest civilizations, rich in culture, philosophy, and resilience. While democratic deficits may exist at the state level, the moral compass of its societies remains intact.

This ceasefire, then, must be more than a diplomatic maneuver. It must be a turning point. Let diplomacy replace duplicity. Let shared security replace zero-sum calculations. And let the voices of the region’s peoples—not just its power brokers—shape the path forward.

Ultimately, if Israel and its Western allies seek true friendship with the peoples of the region, they must help cultivate mutual respect and inclusivity, rather than rely on might to impose an uneasy calm. A fortress of technological defense—an iron dome—may intercept rockets, but it cannot shelter a nation from the consequences of moral detachment or strategic myopia. True security is not constructed in isolation. It is earned through empathy, equity, and a willingness to embrace a common future.

(The writer is the editor of GreenWatch Dhaka)