It is hard to believe that Donald Trump has only been back in the White House for a year. His accomplishments are many – but most of them are of questionable durability or benefit, including for the United States.
Even his UN-endorsed 20-point ceasefire and transition plan for Gaza released on September 29 2025 is now in danger of being subsumed in yet another grandiose fantasy of the American president: the so-called “board of peace” to be chaired by Trump.
This group of international dignitaries was originally intended to oversee the work of a more technical committee, comprising technocrats responsible for the day-to-day recovery and rebuilding of Gaza. But the board of peace’s charter makes no mention of Gaza at all.
Instead, its opening sentence declares that “durable peace requires pragmatic judgment, common-sense solutions, and the courage to depart from approaches and institutions that have too often failed”.
To make this break with such an unseemly past, the board of peace proclaims itself to be “an international organization” to “secure enduring peace in areas affected or threatened by conflict” and commits to conducting its operations “in accordance with international law”.
To which the immediate reaction is that unilateralism is increasingly the hallmark of Trump’s second administration. Settling conflicts is the prerogative of the UN. And, over the past year, the US has shown itself to be unconcerned about international law.
Membership of the board is by invitation from the chairman: Donald Trump – who has broad and flexible discretion on how long he will serve for and who will replace him when he does decide to go. Those invited can join for free for three years and buy themselves a permanent seat at the table for US$1 billion (£740 million) – in cash, payable in the first year.
With Trump retaining significant power over the direction of the board and many of its decisions it is not clear what US$1 billion would exactly buy the permanent members of the board – except perhaps a chance to ingratiate themselves with Trump.
There is no question that established institutions have often failed to achieve durable peace. Among such institutions, the UN has been a favourite target for Trump’s criticism and disdain, as evident in a recent directive to cease participating in and funding 31 UN organisations. Among them were the peace-building commission and the peace-building fund, as well as office of the special representative for children in armed conflict.
Is this the end for the United Nations?
The deeper and more tragic irony in this is threefold. First, there is strong evidence that the UN is effective as peace builder, especially after civil war, and that UN peacekeeping does work to keep the peace.
Second, there is no question that the UN does not always succeed in its efforts to achieve peace. But this is as much, if not more often, the fault of its member states.
There’s a long history of UN member states blocking security council resolutions, providing only weak mandates or cutting short the duration of UN missions. They have also obstructed operations on the ground, as is evident in the protracted crisis in Sudan, where the UN endlessly debates human suffering but lacks most of the funds to alleviate it.
Third, even though he is unlikely to ever admit it publicly, Trump by now has surely found out for himself that making peace is neither easy nor straightforward despite his claim to have solved eight conflicts.
And the more so if the “pragmatic judgement” and “commonsense solutions” that the charter to his board of peace subscribe to end up being, as seems likely, little more than a thin disguise for highly transactional deals designed to prioritise profitable returns for an America-first agenda.
Part of the reason why the UN has success as a peacemaker and peacebuilder is the fact that it is still seen as relatively legitimate. This is something that is unlikely to be immediately associated with Trump or his board of peace if it ever takes off.
Such scepticism appears well founded, particularly considering that among the invitees to join the board is the Russian president, Vladimir Putin, who is not particularly well known for his love of peace. Even Trump, on rare occasions, admittedly, seems to have come to this realisation. But it did not stop him from inviting Putin to join the board of peace.
What’s in it for Trump?
So, what to make of it all? Is it just another of Trump’s controversial initiatives that he hopes might eventually earn him the Nobel peace prize after all? Is it merely a money-making opportunity for Trump personally, or is it designed for his political and corporate allies, who might benefit from projects implemented by his board of peace? Ultimately, it might be any of these.
The real question needs to be about the consequences for the current system. What Trump is effectively proposing is to set up a corporate version of the UN, controlled and run by him. That he is capable of such a proposal should not come as a shock after 12 months of Trump 2.0.
More surprising is the notion that other political leaders will support it. This is one of the few opportunities they have to stop him in his tracks. It would not be a cost-free response, as the French president, Emmanuel Macron, has found when he did not appear sufficiently enthusiastic and Trump threatened the immediate imposition of 200% tariffs on French wine.
But more leaders should consider whether they really want to be Trump’s willing executioners when it comes to the UN and instead imagine, to paraphrase a well-known anti-war slogan, what would happen if Trump “gave a board of peace and no one came?”
Stefan Wolff is a past recipient of grant funding from the Natural Environment Research Council of the UK, the United States Institute of Peace, the Economic and Social Research Council of the UK, the British Academy, the NATO Science for Peace Programme, the EU Framework Programmes 6 and 7 and Horizon 2020, as well as the EU's Jean Monnet Programme. He is a Trustee and Honorary Treasurer of the Political Studies Association of the UK and a Senior Research Fellow at the Foreign Policy Centre in London.
