Sadiq S BhatWashington, DC — When Layla Nasser's phone lit up with news of the ceasefire, she didn't celebrate. The 34-year-old educator sat in her kitchen in Dearborn, Michigan, and wept.
"What people don’t understand is that this was a livestreamed genocide," she said quietly. "We watched our people die in real time on our phones. Every day. Every single day for two years."
The October 8, 2025, announcement that Israel and Hamas had signed the first phase of US President Donald Trump's 20-point peace plan has drawn mixed reactions from Palestinian Americans, particularly in Michigan's Arab heartland.
The deal promises a pause in fighting, a prisoner exchange, and the partial withdrawal of Israeli troops. Yet for many, relief is tinged with grief — and disbelief.
More than 67,000 Palestinians have been killed since Israel's war on Gaza began. Over 168,000 Palestinians have been wounded in Gaza, with 90% of homes destroyed. UN investigators say Israel’s actions amount to genocide.
In Detroit, Amira Khalil, a nurse with family in Rafah, said she could not join in the celebrations. "I know people are celebrating in Gaza, showing joy in the streets," she told TRT World.
"They’re entitled to that because they survived. But my heart feels sad at what happened in the last two years."
Her phone keeps pinging with messages from relatives still in tents. "We lost an entire generation," she said. "The hospitals I trained in are gone. The schools are rubble. Wars end with political agreements, yes. But our people paid with their blood — bi damna — and their children."
In nearby Hamtramck, Yousef Mansour recalls his second cousin, a budding footballer, killed in an air strike last spring.
"Those who dreamed of victory that included a Gaza without Palestinians?" he said. "They are the ones who lost face. We're still here. Alhamdulillah, we are still standing."
Guarded optimism
Trump's Gaza peace deal, backed by Egypt, Türkiye, and Qatar, aims to halt combat and start a phased process towards a longer ceasefire.
Hamas has accepted parts of the plan and handed over lists for the hostage-prisoner swap, stirring a fragile sense of hope in some corners.
But among Arab Americans, optimism remains guarded.
Dr Bishara Bahbah, National Chairman of Arab Americans for Peace, praised Trump's efforts but urged caution.
"We commend President Trump for his unwavering commitment to peace and for demonstrating the power of diplomacy in the face of decades of entrenched conflict," he said.
"This agreement is not just a diplomatic achievement; it is a lifeline for thousands of families who have lived under the shadow of war for far too long."
He added, "President Trump’s role has reminded the world that peace is always possible when there is political will and courageous leadership. But it will take more than signatures to rebuild Gaza’s spirit."
However, in New York’s Bay Ridge, Rania Odeh, a 28-year-old nonprofit worker, sounded weary. "Everyone’s talking about phases and points and negotiations," she said.
"You know what Gaza actually needs right now? Medicine. Shelter. Things that keep people alive."
"This leads somewhere real"
In Anaheim, California, Nadia Qasem followed the news from her apartment.
"I’m relieved, yes," she told TRT World over phone. "Any stop to the killing is something to be grateful for. But this is just the beginning of a very long, very difficult road. We may carry this grief for a long time."
The devastation in Gaza remains staggering. UN investigators describe famine, mass displacement, and the near-total destruction of homes, hospitals, and schools.
Even as politicians talk of peace, people in Gaza will be looking under ruins for the remains of their loved ones.
Approximately 10,000 people are still believed to be buried under rubble in Gaza, according to the UN, Gaza’s Civil Defence, and Palestinian authorities.
Back in Dearborn, Layla reflected quietly. "People ask if I have hope. I have to. What’s the alternative? We've seen too much destruction."
In Detroit, Amira shared the same uncertainty. "Everyone here is tired too," she said. "Every time Gaza burns, we die a little here. Watching, waiting, helpless."
"For me," Amira added, "peace will mean something only when Gaza's streets are filled with children again, not rubble. Inshallah, this leads somewhere real."
"Most of us want to weep"
Back in Washington, the air around the White House buzzed with talk of legacy and diplomacy.
At the start of his Cabinet meeting on Thursday, Trump said, "I think it’s going to be a lasting peace, hopefully an everlasting peace. Peace in the Middle East."
Talks to hammer out a Gaza peace plan have been unfolding behind closed doors at a tightly guarded conference centre in Egypt's Sharm el-Sheikh. Trump is expected to visit Egypt and Israel over the weekend.
Far from the Middle East, European and Arab leaders are gathering in Paris to explore ways to help bring the war to an end.
For millions of Palestinians at home and abroad, the outcome of these frenetic deliberations is both personal and inescapable.
Taking a deep breath over the phone, Amira spoke softly, "Maybe one day this deal will mean something. Tonight, most of us want to weep — for what befell us, and to thank the Almighty that the bombs have finally stopped."
