By Golineh Djananpour, Brussels
Emmanuel Macron chooses his words carefully—cautious, tentative, full of subjunctives. Anything else would seem reckless given the explosive situation in the Middle East. And yet, the initiative the French president launched on his return trip from Egypt is remarkable: a new diplomatic push to help pacify the region, guided by the ambition to be more than just an observer.
In an interview with France 5, aired shortly after his visit to a Palestinian refugee camp near Gaza, Macron declared that France aimed to set a “collective dynamic” in motion to bring new momentum to the decades-old conflict. His words: “We need to move toward recognition of a Palestinian state, and therefore we will take steps in that direction in the coming months.” He said he believed the time had come to “take that path.”
A sentence that sounds diplomatic, yet reaches far—especially in the current climate. Macron clearly touched a nerve, as shown by the wide resonance in the Arab world, ranging from cautious optimism to skeptical reserve. With this, the French president taps into old, somewhat faded roles—France as a mediator, as a force with historical weight in the region.
But Macron did not stop at reaffirming the two-state solution. Almost in the same breath, he added that those calling for recognition of a Palestinian state must also acknowledge Israel’s right to exist—“and several of them do not.” His main target, though unnamed, was clearly Iran. It was an attempt to strike a balance: support for Palestinian aspirations, but not at the cost of Israeli security.
Thus, Macron’s initiative remains careful and conditional in its language—a diplomatic offer full of caveats. Still, the symbolic weight and the direction are unmistakable: France wants to return to the table, to shape, not just observe.
Much remains tentative and hypothetical in Macron’s political initiative. His wording—“in the coming months”—leaves the door open for retreat. The informal deadline is June, when France and Saudi Arabia are expected to co-chair a Middle East conference at the United Nations in New York.
Macron’s move seems driven by a desire to counter the dynamic unleashed by the alliance of Benjamin Netanyahu and Donald Trump. Israel’s prime minister, emboldened by Washington’s backing, continues on a hardline military course. Trump, for his part, has floated ideas of expelling Palestinians from Gaza to build a kind of Mediterranean “Riviera”—a major real estate project. Macron insists he has spoken with both Netanyahu and Trump about his initiative—but has not disclosed what came of those talks. Is the French president overestimating his influence?
It comes as no surprise that Macron’s initiative found interest in Cairo. In Egypt, he met with President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi—and also with Jordan’s King Abdullah—two leaders whose countries border Israel and who are among the most directly affected by the fate of the Palestinians. For both, the prospect of the Palestinian state project failing—and of a new mass displacement of Palestinians—is a nightmare.
Egypt has countered Trump’s fantastical “Arab Riviera” vision—with its implicit nod to forced displacement—with a proposal of its own: an “Arab reconstruction plan.” At its core is the aim of strengthening long-lost Palestinian statehood. The idea is to bring the Palestinian Authority, based in the West Bank, back into play—replacing the Islamist-terrorist Hamas in Gaza. Whether this is remotely realistic remains highly uncertain.
Still, leadership in any Arab diplomatic initiative will almost certainly fall to Saudi Arabia. Macron’s proposal reflects this: the Kingdom sees itself as both the Arab and Islamic leader. Despite now relatively stable relations with Israel, Riyadh has neither an embassy there nor a peace treaty with the Jewish state. The Saudis played a leading role in drafting the 2002 Arab Peace Initiative, which offered normalization with Israel in exchange for a two-state solution. It never gained traction.
The initiative, reiterated multiple times over the years, was based on clear terms: a Palestinian state with East Jerusalem as its capital, a return to the 1967 borders, and a fair solution to the refugee issue. These are demands the current right-wing Israeli government is highly unlikely to accept. On the contrary: since the Hamas massacre of October 7, 2023, Israel has done everything possible to make even the semblance of a fair two-state solution increasingly unreachable.
Under Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Israel has in effect lost all interest in a two-state solution. This is evident in its increasingly open push for further land appropriation—not only in the West Bank but, seemingly, in Gaza as well. Moreover, key issues linked to any future Palestinian state remain unacceptable to Israel. Chief among them is the right of return for the roughly six million Palestinian refugees. For Israel, a Jewish state with just under 10 million inhabitants—of whom around two million are Arab Israelis—this would be a demographic and political impossibility.
This casts doubt on how much traction Emmanuel Macron’s initiative can realistically gain. There’s also the question of how much leadership Saudi Arabia is willing to share with France, the former colonial power, in resolving the still-central Middle East conflict. Paris may bring its seat on the UN Security Council to the table—but its colonial legacy, and its ongoing tendency to meddle in intra-Arab affairs (as seen in Lebanon), continues to foster suspicion.
Germany’s official position, meanwhile, stands at odds with the kind of Arab-European initiative Macron seems to be envisioning—one that would effectively bypass the U.S.-led approach to Middle East diplomacy. Berlin insists that a two-state solution must be achieved through direct negotiations between Israelis and Palestinians. This remains its stance even as Israel’s settlement policy has created facts on the ground that render such negotiations increasingly implausible.
If Macron does indeed take the next step, it would be nothing short of a diplomatic milestone: France—G7 member, nuclear power, and permanent member of the UN Security Council—would become the first major Western nation to officially recognize Palestine. It would be a highly symbolic act, signaling France’s intent to step out from under Washington’s shadow and make a strong statement to the Arab world. To date, 148 countries have recognized Palestine, including a clear majority from the Global South.
When Spain, Ireland, Norway, and Iceland edged closer to recognition last year, Macron came under growing criticism—particularly from the European left—for his hesitancy. Since the Hamas terror attacks of October 7, 2023, critics have accused him of lacking a coherent stance in the Middle East: at times strongly supportive of Israel, then shifting to gestures of rapprochement toward Arab states.
Macron’s domestic situation, however, is unusually delicate. France is home to both the largest Jewish and the largest Muslim communities in Europe. Events in Gaza or Tel Aviv don’t just make headlines—they directly affect the social climate in France. Every flare-up in the Middle East, every escalation in rhetoric, reverberates at home in the form of debates, protests, and sometimes heightened tensions on French streets. For Macron, Middle East policy is not just about foreign affairs—it is a domestic minefield.
Accordingly, reactions to his initiative have been sharply polarized. The political left—from the Socialist Party to Jean-Luc Mélenchon’s La France Insoumise—has welcomed his move almost unanimously. They’ve long urged him to take a clearer stand in support of Palestinian statehood. The far right, led by Marine Le Pen’s National Rally, accuses Macron of siding with Hamas and betraying Israel. According to them, the president must “finally stand up for the security of the West.”
Thus, even before any formal recognition of Palestine, Macron’s diplomatic gesture has ignited a domestic firestorm. The debate has only just begun—and it promises to be as consequential for France as it is for the international stage.
