When the might of a great power is combined with the boundless egotism of its leader, it can set in motion grand ventures. But those qualities alone rarely suffice to see them through. The enduring global weight of the United States — despite incessant talk of its decline — and President Donald Trump’s overweening ambition to be remembered as a man of peace have produced bold initiatives to end wars in Europe and the Middle East. Yet, the prospects of success remain uncertain.
There is little doubt that Trump is personally committed to promoting peace. In his second inaugural address in January, he declared his intent to be a “peace president”. He enjoys a rare moment of dominance over the US political system today. It is tempting, even cynical, to reduce his initiatives to a barely hidden craving for the Nobel Peace Prize. But it would be wrong to dismiss his willingness to expend political capital on ending what he claims are “seven wars” around the world — including between India and Pakistan.
The problem lies elsewhere. Trump’s commitment to peace is not matched by patience, the hard work of diplomacy, or the sagacity to grasp the tragic roots of conflict and the arduous road to reconciliation. Anyone familiar with the Middle East knows that its political terrain is littered with the wreckage of failed peace initiatives. That is not deterring Trump.
Despite setbacks in Ukraine — where he had promised to end the war “in a day” — Trump unveiled on Monday a sweeping 21-point peace plan for the Middle East. He proclaimed it could be “one of the great days ever in civilisation”. The hyperbole was matched by his lack of false modesty. Introducing the “Board of Peace” that would supervise the agreement, Trump announced it would be chaired by none other than “President Donald J Trump of the United States.”
The declared goal of Trump’s proposal is to end the Gaza war and set out a roadmap for peaceful Israeli-Palestinian coexistence. Unveiled after consultations with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and leaders from multiple Arab and Islamic states, the plan includes: An immediate ceasefire; the exchange of Israeli hostages and Palestinian prisoners within three days of the agreement; phased withdrawal of Israeli forces from Gaza; delivery of humanitarian relief; interim governance of Gaza by a technocratic, internationally supervised Palestinian committee under a Board of Peace; disarmament of Hamas militias, coupled with amnesty for those willing to lay down arms; framework for economic reconstruction and a conditional pathway toward eventual Palestinian statehood.
The plan has been formally welcomed by several Arab and Muslim states, including Egypt, Indonesia, Jordan, Pakistan, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and the UAE. Their endorsements lend the initiative a measure of credibility. But the official statements are couched in nuance. These governments praised Trump’s personal commitment and expressed readiness to work with Washington — but stopped short of endorsing every provision.
The Arab position remains clear: An unambiguous end to Israel’s occupation of Palestinian territories and the unification of Gaza, the West Bank, and East Jerusalem into a sovereign Palestinian state. Netanyahu, however, has repeatedly rejected the idea of Palestinian statehood. For Arab capitals, praising Trump is politically safer than voicing open scepticism.
Israel, for its part, has not rejected the plan. But Netanyahu has made clear that if Hamas refuses to comply, he will “finish the job” in Gaza. Trump, too, has promised that the US will back Israel fully should Hamas resist. For Israel, there could be many opportunities to argue that Hamas is not abiding by the plan.
For Hamas, the terms amount to unconditional surrender and exclusion from future governance. Unsurprisingly, Hamas and other militant groups have dismissed the plan as a one-sided deal heavily tilted toward Israel. Within Israel, Trump’s far-right supporters are equally sceptical — opposed to full withdrawal from Gaza or the creation of a neutral Palestinian authority.
Even if all sides profess support, implementation will be fraught with pitfalls. Disarmament, demilitarisation, and the establishment of an apolitical authority in Gaza are deeply contentious in any peace process. Each side will find excuses to stall or abandon the process. Trump’s call for an ambitious multinational stabilisation force and broad international oversight faces serious challenges of legitimacy, coordination, and resources. The logistical burden is immense. Delivering aid, rebuilding Gaza’s shattered infrastructure, and restarting its economy will take years of painstaking work. Ongoing violence could derail reconstruction at every step.
Trump’s difficulties in the Middle East will resemble his challenges in Ukraine. His bold claim that he could end the conflict in “24 hours” inevitably collided with reality. Despite direct overtures to both Vladimir Putin and Volodymyr Zelenskyy, neither Russia nor Ukraine has accepted Washington’s terms. Recent remarks suggest Trump may already be preparing to wash his hands of the process.
In both theatres, Trump’s penchant for grandstanding is evident. What remains doubtful is his ability to stay the course. Peacemaking requires persistence, compromise, and a deep understanding of conflict dynamics — qualities Trump has rarely displayed.
The efficacy of any peace plan rests on the willingness of combatants to make painful concessions. Even successful interim measures — like ceasefires or prisoner exchanges — remain fragile without internal consensus in the political and security establishments of the parties involved.
Trump’s appetite for political risk is enormous, and his desire for peace may well be genuine. His initial gains, drawing on the weight of US power and his readiness for high-stakes manoeuvres, create dramatic headlines. But sustaining those gains amid the complexities on the ground is another matter altogether.
History shows that even determined peacemakers — armed with patience, legitimacy, and institutional support — struggle to overcome entrenched enmities. Trump brings none of these attributes. What he does bring is political bravado, diplomatic energy, and the extraordinary leverage of US power. Whether those can be translated into lasting settlements in Gaza or Ukraine is another matter. For now, Trump’s “peace plans” are ambitious declarations resting on shaky foundations.
The writer is contributing editor on international affairs for The Indian Express. He is a Distinguished Professor at the Motwani-Jadeja Institute of American Studies, OP Jindal Global University, and holds the Korea Foundation Chair on Asian Geopolitics at the Council for Strategic and Defence Research, Delhi