Trump's Board of Peace

Friday 23 January 2026

President Trump’s proposed “Board of Peace” is best understood as two projects braided together.

One strand is narrow and practical: a mechanism to supervise a ceasefire and reconstruction framework in Gaza, backed by money, administrative machinery and a stabilisation force. The other strand is expansive and political: an attempt to create a standing club of states and prominent individuals, chaired by the President of the United States, which can convene quickly, raise large sums and claim diplomatic primacy in conflicts that have traditionally run through the United Nations system. 

The question is not simply whether this project can replace the United Nations. It is whether it can displace the United Nations in the places where the UN matters most: legitimacy, convening power, and the ability to turn words into enforceable outcomes.

What the Peace Council is meant to be

Reuters’ account of the draft charter describes a body chaired by President Trump, tasked with “promoting peace” and resolving conflicts, with member states generally limited to three-year terms unless they pay a reported $1 billion each for permanent membership. Sky News reports the plans would allow Mr Trump to hold the chairmanship for life, with extensive executive powers, including veto authority and removal powers, subject to constraints. 

In other words the Peace Council is not designed like the UN, which is treaty-based, formally universal and procedurally constrained. It is designed like a managed coalition: selective membership, substantial financial buy-in, and a strong executive centre.

That design choice is not accidental. It addresses three frustrations that many governments privately acknowledge about the UN.

• Speed: the ability to decide quickly without being caught in multilateral procedure.

• Money: the ability to raise large, earmarked funds rather than rely on assessed contributions and donor fatigue.

• Discipline: the ability to attach conditions, timetables and consequences to participation.

The White House’s own language leans into this logic, presenting the body as one that can “mobilise global resources” and “enforce accountability” in Gaza’s demilitarisation and reconstruction phases. 

Potential membership and what it signals

As to membership, two concentric circles matter: a leadership circle and a state circle.

The leadership circle, as publicly described by Reuters and Sky News, includes Secretary of State Marco Rubio, Special Envoy Steve Witkoff, Jared Kushner and former British Prime Minister Sir Tony Blair on a founding executive board. This composition is revealing. It mixes formal state authority (the US Secretary of State), presidential diplomacy (special envoys), personal networks (a presidential relative) and a globally recognisable political operator associated with post-conflict interventions. It is a team configured to negotiate, fundraise and manage narratives, not to replicate UN-style bureaucracy.

The state circle is broader and more politically telling. Reuters reports that states said to have agreed to take part include Israel, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain, Jordan, Qatar and Egypt, alongside Turkey and Hungary, as well as Morocco, Pakistan, Indonesia, Kosovo, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Paraguay, Vietnam, Armenia and Azerbaijan. 

Three patterns stand out.

First, the Middle East presence suggests the organisation’s centre of gravity is intended to be Gaza’s post-war governance and financing, with Gulf money and regional state buy-in giving the project heft. 

Secondly, the European picture is fractured. Reuters reports Norway and Sweden declining, France intending to decline, and Italy raising constitutional concerns about joining a group led by one country’s leader. This is not a minor detail. If major European powers stand aside, the Peace Council starts to look less like a new world institution and more like a US-aligned caucus with some regional and middle-power partners.

Thirdly, the invitations to controversial actors are not a footnote but a structural test. Reuters reports that Belarus has accepted, while Russia and China had not yet said whether they will join, and that both are likely to be cautious about initiatives that might undermine their veto position at the UN Security Council. The reported invitation to the Pope illustrates the same logic: prestige matters, and legitimacy is being sought from outside the classic “great power” frame. 

The Canada episode, reported by Reuters, shows another dynamic: membership can become a tool of favour and punishment. In a dispute after Davos, President Trump withdrew Canada’s invitation, framing the body as an exclusive club with a high buy-in and political expectations. Even if the Peace Council never replaces the UN, it could still reshape behaviour by offering access, influence and reconstruction contracts to participants, and costs to dissenters.

The legal foothold in Gaza and why it matters

One reason the Peace Council is being taken seriously is that it is not being presented as wholly outside the UN. Reuters reports that in November the UN Security Council mandated an organisation akin to the Board of Peace, but only through 2027 and solely focused on Gaza, including authorising a temporary International Stabilisation Force and requiring reporting to the Security Council every six months. 

This is a critical point. The Peace Council’s most credible route to authority is not to declare the UN irrelevant, but to borrow the UN’s legal aura whilst operating through a different, more centralised executive structure. The more it can portray itself as UN-adjacent in law but UN-superior in delivery, the more it can claim institutional primacy in future crises.

Could it replace the United Nations?

In a strict sense, no, not in any comprehensive way.

The UN is not one organisation doing one job. It is a family of institutions and treaties: humanitarian operations, refugee protection, global health, civil aviation rules, maritime regulation, development finance, sanctions architecture, peacekeeping mandates, war crimes documentation, and a long list of technical agencies that quietly make modern international life function. Even a highly funded Peace Council cannot rapidly reproduce that ecosystem without states rewriting treaty obligations and creating dozens of specialist bodies.

But “replacement” is rarely how institutional change happens in practice. The more realistic question is whether it can become a rival centre of gravity for high politics, leaving the UN with administration and symbolism.

On that score, the Peace Council could plausibly replace the UN in three narrower senses.

• Replacement of venue: leaders might choose the Peace Council for negotiations because it is faster, more controllable and more flattering to great power diplomacy than UN forums.

• Replacement of financing: if it becomes the place where reconstruction money is raised and allocated, it will shape post-war realities regardless of what the UN says.

• Replacement of enforcement coalitions: if it assembles stabilisation forces, monitoring missions or sanctions packages through voluntary membership, it can achieve outcomes without relying on UN unanimity.

Yet each of those “replacements” comes with counterweights that may cap the project.

First, legitimacy. The UN’s legitimacy is imperfect, but it rests on broad membership and formal equality amongst states. A club with a $1 billion permanent-seat structure will be read, especially in the Global South, as an institutionalisation of unequal influence. 

Secondly, continuity. The UN persists through leadership changes because it is not built around a single political figure. A Peace Council built around one chair, especially one reportedly empowered to veto and remove members, will be viewed as less predictable, and therefore less bankable, as an institution. 

Thirdly, great power limits. If Russia and China decide that the Peace Council threatens their UN Security Council privileges, they have strong incentives to resist it, or to join only to constrain it from within. Without at least one of them, the Peace Council risks being powerful but partial, strong in some theatres and weak in others.

Fourthly, European resistance. If France, Germany and Britain remain outside, the Peace Council will struggle to claim that it is “the world”, rather than a US-centred grouping.  It may still operate effectively, but it will have difficulty inheriting the UN’s mantle.

What it means for the United Nations

The deepest risk to the UN is not formal abolition. It is gradual hollowing out.

If donors begin to treat the Board of Peace as the serious place where money and decisions are made, the UN could be left to “manage” the consequences with fewer resources and less political backing. That, in turn, can produce a self-fulfilling story: the UN looks ineffective because power has been siphoned away, and power is siphoned away because the UN is said to be ineffective.

The irony is that the Peace Council’s strongest opening may come from Gaza, where the Security Council mandate gives it a foothold. If it can demonstrate visible results there, it gains an argument for replication. If it fails, it becomes a cautionary tale about personal diplomacy dressed as global governance.

In the near term, it is best seen as a competitor, not a replacement: a rival diplomatic court that may, in some crises, outpace the UN, whilst relying on the UN’s legal scaffolding when convenient. Over time its ability to supplant the UN will depend less on declarations and more on whether states, particularly major European powers and veto-holders, decide to move real authority, funding and legitimacy into it.