Architecture of Domination: Gaza as a Project, Not as a People

There's an image that never ceases to rankle: " the executioners with plans in their beaks ." No longer just weapons, but maps, models, algorithms. No longer just destruction, but management. Genocide is no longer an exception: it's a protocol. And the peace plan presented by Donald Trump to the White House, accepted by Israel and blessed by European governments, is the most sophisticated proof of this.

Twenty-one points, twenty official and one implicit: domination. Gaza is described as a " zone to be deradicalized ," to be " redeveloped ," to be " demilitarized ." Not as a living land, but as an object to be cleansed. The language is surgical, aseptic, technocratic. But beneath the surface, a colonial logic pulsates: one that transforms bodies into cannon fodder and ruins into investment opportunities. Let us not forget this.

Peace as a control device

The plan is not a peace treaty. It is a control mechanism. It includes:

• The return of the hostages within 72 hours, in exchange for Palestinian prisoners, as if life were a commodity to be traded.

• An amnesty for Hamas members who lay down their arms, but no opportunity for Palestinians to choose who represents them.

• An apolitical technocratic government, overseen by a " Board of Peace " chaired by Trump, with Tony Blair among its guarantors.

• A buffer zone under Israeli control, and an untimely military withdrawal.

• Humanitarian aid managed by international agencies, but no guarantee of sovereignty.

The word " Palestine " doesn't appear. Nor does the word " justice ." It's a peace that doesn't ask for forgiveness, doesn't acknowledge pain, doesn't restore dignity. It's a peace that administers silence.

The tragic paradox of genocide

In the concentration camp, the cannon fodder remains. Colonialism swallows the morsel. The Trump plan doesn't stop the genocide: it codifies it. It transforms it into a gradual, monitored, and financed process. Palestinians won't be able to choose who governs them, but they can be " repurposed ," as objects, contexts, or things. They won't be able to cry out, but they can be " rebuilt ," " regenerated ." It's the tragic paradox: violence isn't denied, it's refined. They no longer shoot, they sign. They don't bomb, they invest. And Italy, which immediately supports this filth, becomes complicit not only in its death, but in its new "an-aestheticization."

The philosophy of refusal

Being shocked is a sign of health. It means the heart hasn't yet given up. That the mind hasn't yet succumbed to the logic of managing pain. That the voice hasn't yet accepted being replaced by a press release.

Philosophy teaches us that truth is never neutral. That justice cannot be delegated. That peace, if it is not also historical, humane, and respectful, is merely a truce for the executioners.

So, taking the microphone off and turning your back isn't escape: it's a political gesture. It's a refusal to participate in the charade. But it's not enough. We must listen, tell, fight. We must name the horror, without numbing it. We must say: this is not a plan for peace. It's a plan for domination.

Isla Media will never sign

In Isla Media, we don't sign agreements that erase history. We don't accept oversight that excludes the living. We don't celebrate plans that transform genocide into governance. We prefer to remain stunned. We prefer to remain human. Gaza lives!

The duty not to become architects of silence

May future generations not be seduced by the geometry of domination. May they not mistake peace for quiet, nor justice for management. May they not get used to seeing peoples as projects, ruins as opportunities, deaths as statistics. Freedom is not a protocol. It is a voice that breaks the mold. It is the right to choose who represents us, who tells our story, who defends us. It is the courage to say no, even when the entire world signs yes. Resisting is not just fighting. It is remembering. It is naming. It is safeguarding dignity when everything around us sells it off. It is refusing the role of architects of silence. May each generation learn to disobey with grace, to denounce with precision, to build with love. Because freedom, if it is not also memory and voice, is just another well-written plan .