A Troubling New Forum
The idea of a “Board of Peace” led by Donald Trump began as a narrow, time-bound mechanism to oversee the fragile Gaza ceasefire. What it has since morphed into is something far more ambitious and far more troubling: a personalised, pay-to-play forum that openly aspires to rival, if not replace, the United Nations Security Council. As Trump heads to Davos to unveil the next iteration of this body, the question is no longer whether the Board of Peace will succeed in resolving conflicts, but whether it represents a deeper erosion of multilateralism itself—one driven less by reform than by impatience, power concentration and transactional diplomacy.
The draft charter, as reported, makes the underlying intent unmistakable. Authority is heavily centralised in the hands of the chairman—Trump himself—who would control membership, meeting schedules, voting deadlocks and even the creation or dissolution of subsidiary bodies. The most striking provision is financial: countries contributing more than one billion US dollars in their first year secure permanent membership. This effectively monetises global peace-making, transforming influence from a function of legitimacy and international law into one of liquidity. That such a structure is being proposed at a time when global institutions are already struggling with trust deficits should give pause to even its most enthusiastic supporters. Reforming multilateral institutions is a legitimate goal; hollowing them out through parallel power centres is something else entirely.
The widening list of invitees and participants underscores the board’s geopolitical reach, but also its ambiguity. Israel’s decision to join—announced by Benjamin Netanyahu despite earlier reservations—reflects the pull of being inside the room where decisions may be shaped, however informal the structure. Invitations to countries as varied as India, Russia, Türkiye, Kazakhstan and Argentina suggest an attempt to project universality without the procedural rigour that bodies like the UN demand. Yet the hesitations are telling. Russia is “studying the details”. France has declined outright, drawing a clear line between supporting a peace plan and endorsing a new organisation designed to supplant the United Nations. That Trump responded with tariff threats and personal jibes only reinforces concerns that this initiative is as much about leverage as it is about peace.
Defenders of the Board of Peace argue that existing institutions have failed—that the UN Security Council is paralysed by vetoes, bureaucracy and geopolitical rivalry, and that new conflicts demand faster, more flexible responses. There is truth in this critique. The post-World War II architecture is undeniably strained by 21st-century realities. But the remedy matters. A body that concentrates power in one leader, ties permanence to financial muscle, and operates without a transparent, publicly debated charter risks reproducing the very inequities and inefficiencies it claims to overcome. Worse, it risks normalising the idea that global peace can be brokered outside international law, accountable processes and broadly accepted norms.
The structure of the accompanying committees only deepens these anxieties. The executive board and the Gaza Executive Board bring together a mix of diplomats, former leaders, financiers and political insiders, many of them closely aligned with Trump personally. While experience and influence are valuable, the absence of clear accountability mechanisms raises questions about whose interests will ultimately be served. Gaza’s future, in particular, demands legitimacy, sensitivity and international buy-in. Disarmament, reconstruction and governance cannot be sustainably imposed through elite consensus alone, especially when the perception—fair or not—is that decisions are being shaped in exclusive rooms far removed from affected populations.
For countries like India, which has consistently defended multilateralism while also calling for its reform, the emergence of such parallel structures presents a delicate dilemma. Engagement may be necessary to avoid exclusion from consequential conversations. Endorsement, however, is another matter. Peace cannot be reduced to a subscription model, nor can global governance be rebuilt around personalities rather than principles. If the Board of Peace is to be more than a vanity project or a geopolitical bargaining chip, it must subject itself to the very standards it seeks to bypass: transparency, inclusivity and respect for international law. Otherwise, the world may find itself with yet another forum that promises peace, but deepens fragmentation—and leaves the hardest conflicts no closer to resolution.
