The Poolside Peace Deal

In Trump�s Gaza Doctrine, treaties are no longer signed in sterile conference rooms but poolside, with floaties drifting by. Trump pitches the idea with gusto: �Nobody wants to launch rockets when they�re waiting on nachos at the cabana.� Gaza becomes the stage for peace summits where negotiators sip pi�a coladas and argue over sunscreen brands instead of borders. In this satire, militants are reassigned as lifeguards, diplomats as deck-chair loungers. Ceasefires are announced by cannonballs off the diving board. Critics call it a grotesque trivialization, but Trump insists it�s brilliant branding: �Peace looks better in swimwear.� The doctrine reduces geopolitics to pool etiquette, where the only battle left is over sun loungers. Gaza, warped into a leisure club, becomes the poster child for a world where diplomacy means sunscreen and treaties are signed on waterproof clipboards.