When President Trump unveiled the Board of Peace, it was framed as a historic innovation: a bold new mechanism to stabilize Gaza and, more broadly, to reimagine how the international community manages conflict. The rhetoric was sweeping, even grandiose. But once the initial announcements gave way to scrutiny, a substantial gap emerged between the Board’s ambition and its political viability. That gap—more than any single diplomatic snub—now defines the Board’s predicament.
At issue is not a lack of goodwill or insufficient urgency around Gaza. Rather, the problem is structural. The Board’s design, scope, and governance diverge sharply from the mandate provided by UN Security Council Resolution 2803, which authorized a Gaza-specific, UN-anchored, and time-limited stabilization mechanism linked to a credible political horizon. Instead, the Board of Peace was introduced as a quasi-permanent institution, chaired for life, funded through high entry fees, and endowed—at least rhetorically—with ambitions extending well beyond Gaza. Notably, the word “Gaza” does not appear in the Board’s charter at all.
These choices were not lost on the international community. Nor were they merely inferred. Trump himself publicly suggested that the Board might one day replace or supersede the United Nations, and he repeatedly floated roles for the Board beyond the Gaza context. For many governments, this raised unavoidable questions about institutional overlap, mandate creep, and the erosion of existing international frameworks. The result has been hesitation where unity was expected—and absence where legitimacy was required.
Europe’s Structural Rejection
Nowhere is this clearer than in Europe. The absence of Western European states from the Board is not a diplomatic oversight or a matter of timing. It reflects a structural rejection rooted in institutional discipline and political memory.
France and the United Kingdom, as permanent members of the UN Security Council, regard the UNSC as the cornerstone of the post-war international order. Any new body that appears to bypass, dilute, or rival the Council’s authority is treated with deep skepticism. The Board’s open-ended mandate, opaque governance, and lifetime chairmanship crossed a clear red line.
Compounding these concerns is recent history. European leaders have not forgotten Trump’s earlier use of coercive pressure against allies, most notably during the Greenland episode, when Denmark was publicly confronted over its refusal to entertain a territorial sale. That episode crystallized a broader anxiety: if Trump was willing to exert pressure on a NATO ally over a speculative proposal, what constraints would govern a global institution personally chaired by him?
Finally, Europe sees no credible political horizon in Gaza that excludes the Palestinian Authority. For decades, European policy has been anchored in the principle that Palestinian statehood requires unified governance across Gaza and the West Bank. A Gaza-only stabilization mechanism—particularly one that sidelines the PA—runs directly counter to that framework. Israel’s consistent public opposition to a path toward Palestinian statehood has only reinforced European reluctance to engage.
Europe’s absence, then, is neither emotional nor tactical. It is institutional, principled, and unlikely to change without fundamental recalibration.
Muslim-Majority States: Consensus Without Commitment
The pattern among Muslim-majority states is more nuanced, but no less revealing. Eight such states joined the Board, yet none of the Arab signatories did so at the head-of-state level. This was not accidental. It was a signal.
Across the Muslim world, there is broad consensus on a core point: without the Palestinian Authority, there can be no unified Palestinian governance, and without unified governance, there can be no credible path to statehood. This principle has underpinned the Arab Peace Initiative for more than two decades and continues to shape regional diplomacy, even as tactics and alignments diverge.
Turkey and Qatar, despite their prominent roles on the Gaza Executive Board, declined to elevate their participation to the highest political level. Saudi Arabia and the UAE signed on through their foreign ministers, preserving flexibility while withholding full endorsement. Their message was consistent: engagement does not equal buy-in. None is prepared to bankroll or legitimize an architecture that risks fragmenting Palestinian governance or bypassing the PA.
The result is a bloc that is unified on ends but divided on means—supportive of stabilization, skeptical of structure, and cautious about commitment.
Symbolic Participants and the Limits of Breadth
The Board’s roster also includes a number of peripheral states whose participation adds numerical breadth but little strategic weight. Their presence is not harmful, but it underscores the mismatch between the Board’s global aspirations and its actual composition. In the absence of Europe, Egypt, and major Asian powers, symbolic participation cannot substitute for geopolitical legitimacy.
Israel’s Strategic Contradiction
Israel occupies a central yet contradictory position. It supports the Board as a mechanism to stabilize Gaza but simultaneously rejects any political pathway toward Palestinian statehood. This stance is difficult to reconcile with UNSCR 2803, which conditions stabilization on reform-linked progress toward statehood.
By excluding the Palestinian Authority from Gaza administration, Israel created a governance vacuum—one now filled by Turkey and Qatar. This outcome reflects strategic blowback: actors Israel distrusts have become indispensable precisely because the PA was sidelined. Continued restrictions on PA civil servants, the withholding of tax revenues, and opposition to West Bank political consolidation ensure that no unified Palestinian governance structure can emerge. In turn, this undermines the Board’s legitimacy and forecloses a durable political endgame.
Trump’s Pattern and the Problem of Uncertainty
What remains uncertain is not the Board’s design or Trump’s stated ambitions, but the degree to which he is willing to negotiate, recalibrate, or temporarily acquiesce under pressure—only to later return to his original position. This is not conjecture. It reflects a documented pattern across multiple political and business domains.
On Gaza alone, Trump has moved from proposing mass relocation, to doubling down, to publicly denying forced displacement, while simultaneously exploring alternative relocation scenarios. Similar oscillations have marked his approach to alliances, trade, and international institutions. For foreign governments, this volatility complicates engagement. Negotiating with an actor whose positions are reversible but recurring poses a different challenge than negotiating with one who is simply flexible.
The Missing Coalition
For the Board of Peace to succeed beyond an initial stabilization phase, a specific coalition must align: Egypt, Turkey, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Israel, and Europe. Each plays an indispensable role—from border control and financing to mediation and legitimacy. At present, that coalition does not exist.
Absent Europe, the Board lacks reconstruction capacity and institutional credibility. Absent Egypt, logistics and border control falter. Absent the PA, political legitimacy collapses. These are not theoretical gaps; they are operational realities.
A Narrow Path Forward
The Board of Peace is not beyond salvage. But success will require discipline rather than ambition: a narrowed mandate grounded in UNSCR 2803, explicit reintegration of the Palestinian Authority, and governance structures that reassure rather than unsettle. Above all, it will require recognizing that legitimacy cannot be declared into existence—it must be built, patiently and collectively.
Until then, the Board risks remaining what it currently is: a fragmented institution whose ambitions exceed its coalition, and whose design has prompted caution where confidence was required.