The ceasefire in Gaza is more than a week old. After days of tension over the slow return of deceased hostages, Israel has tentatively accepted what Hamas insisted all along: that locating remains buried beneath Gaza's rubble will take time.
The question that arises then is: can it last?
Much has been made of Hamas taking steps to reassert control in the areas of Gaza that the Israeli Defence Forces vacated.
On the surface, this appears to contradict the notion that it will disarm and play no role in the future governance of Gaza.
The group has reportedly told mediators it accepts it must step aside. Yet, on the ground, it’s ostensibly doing the opposite.
But there’s a difference between restoring order in a power vacuum and consolidating power for the long haul.
And, right now, there is a genuine power vacuum in Gaza.
Hamas is filling it by default - partly because it’s the only organised force left, and partly because the alternative hasn’t yet materialised.

US President Donald Trump’s plan envisions an international stabilisation force and a technocratic Palestinian committee to govern Gaza. Neither exists yet.
Even for a short period, two million people cannot live without any form of governance or security, particularly after two years of war that have destroyed every institution in the enclave.
Even Mr Trump appeared to acknowledge that reality, when he implied that Hamas had been given approval to act as a security force in Gaza "for a period of time".
The problem, of course, is timing. The longer this vacuum persists, the deeper Hamas will embed itself.
And Hamas’s actions raise questions about whether this is truly temporary. Executing men in the streets of Gaza City goes beyond maintaining order - it looks more like consolidating power and eliminating opposition.
The US State Department’s warning to Hamas last night - in which it advised the group against a "planned attack against Palestinian civilians" - suggests the US fears it is exploiting the transition period to entrench itself rather than to stabilise the situation.
And this is precisely why assembling the stabilisation force has become so urgent.
There is movement on that front. France, Britain and the US are working on a UN Security Council resolution to authorise the force, and that is expected within days.
Indonesia has publicly committed 20,000 troops. Azerbaijan has reportedly privately agreed to contribute. Egypt is likely to lead the mission.

But, even with these commitments secured, deploying such a force is a logistical challenge that will take weeks at the very least.
The longer it takes to get boots on the ground, the more entrenched Hamas becomes - and the more desperate Gaza’s population grows.
But there’s a crucial difference this time: Egypt, Qatar and Turkey have formally committed themselves as guarantors of the deal.
The US specifically asked Turkey to use its leverage with Hamas, and the Arab countries applied sustained pressure on the group to accept the deal.
Their involvement gives the agreement something previous ceasefires lacked: regional powers with leverage over Hamas who have staked their credibility on making this work.
If the guarantors can keep Hamas in check, the question becomes whether Israel will hold up its end - which is why what’s happening inside Israel matters.
What’s striking is that, for the first time in two years, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government no longer appears to be the primary obstacle to peace.
Despite the usual tough rhetoric from Israeli officials, the overwhelming sense on the ground is that people hope this is genuinely over.
Israelis prioritised the hostages’ return, certainly - but what struck me was how many spoke of "the end of the war" with the same relief and hope.
Mr Netanyahu, too, appears to share in that relief.
He may insist that he could resume fighting at any moment, but, with next year’s election approaching, he appears grateful that Mr Trump has made the decision for him.

And Mr Trump’s theatrical declaration in the Knesset - announcing the war’s end to thunderous applause - committed Israel’s political establishment to this outcome.
For the first time in two years, Israel appears broadly united on this path - despite grumbling from Mr Netanyahu’s far-right coalition partners.
But, ultimately, the linchpin is Donald Trump. He got the Israeli prime minister to the table by threatening to withdraw support.
He got Hamas to comply by leveraging Turkey, Egypt and Qatar. Now, he must do the harder work: sustaining that pressure on all sides through the messy implementation phase.
The risk isn’t that Mr Trump can’t broker deals - it’s that he loses interest once the initial triumph fades.
If he does, Mr Netanyahu’s political incentives shift, the guarantor states lose their enforcer, and Hamas gains room to manoeuvre. This ceasefire needs active maintenance, not just an opening ceremony.
But, yes, there are reasons for optimism. The pieces are aligned in ways they haven’t been before. Egypt, Qatar and Turkey have leverage over Hamas, Israel appears ready to move on, and the stabilisation force is being assembled. Donald Trump is focused, for now.
This ceasefire could last. But the variables remain volatile - and this is only the beginning.