The limits of 'peace through strength'

By any measure, Donald Trump’s return to the White House has been dramatic. After a historically bitter campaign and a polarising inauguration, the 47th President of the United States stood before Congress and the world on 20 January, declaring: “My proudest legacy will be that of a peacemaker and unifier.” As applause rang through the Capitol, Trump for a ceasefire in Gaza and the release of hostages — one of several diplomatic moves he pointed to as evidence of his peacemaking ambition.

But four months into his second term, the contradictions in that claim are already stark. While Trump has shown more diplomatic engagement than expected, especially in the Middle East, his peace efforts have been undermined by inconsistent tactics, geopolitical missteps and a penchant for spectacle over substance. The question now is whether Trump’s “peace through strength” doctrine is anything more than marketing and if his peace ambitions can survive the complexities of global conflict.

Trump’s most publicised diplomatic success was helping revive a hostage exchange agreement between Israel and Hamas in the days before his inauguration. The deal, which was based on a Biden-era blueprint, saw a handful of Israeli hostages released and earned Trump glowing press coverage. Yet the optimism evaporated quickly. Within weeks, Israel had resumed a full-scale military campaign in Gaza, shattering hopes of an extended ceasefire.

While Trump’s team for rejecting US proposals, regional leaders and US allies noted Washington’s failure to pressure Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, whose domestic political survival hinges in part on perpetuating the war. Trump’s reluctance to confront Netanyahu, paired with his envoy’s back-channel negotiations with Hamas and hints at US-backed redevelopment of Gaza without Israel has painted a muddled picture.

On one hand, Trump seemed serious about recalibrating US policy in the region, even at Israel’s expense. On the other, his proposal to evacuate Gaza’s population to make way for a ‘Riviera of the Middle East’ drew and raised fears of ethnic cleansing. So far, no durable peace framework has emerged, and Trump’s vision remains both vague and controversial.

Ben Shapiro: “I am not sure what [Trump] wants from Zelensky that Zelensky hasn't already given him…This sort of both-sides-ism from…Trump is the reason why Putin is pushing. Putin believes he can get away with it.” pic.twitter.com/EwC4y5oVdm

— Republicans for Ukraine (@GOP4Ukraine) May 28, 2025

Trump’s most visible effort at international diplomacy has centred on Ukraine. His campaign promise to end the war within 24 hours was pure hyperbole, but he did move quickly to propose a partial ceasefire focused on energy infrastructure and the Black Sea.

That ceasefire, however, was fraught with ambiguity. The Kremlin interpreted the deal narrowly, continued attacking Ukrainian civilian targets, laid down preconditions for lifting sanctions and resolutely blocked Ukraine’s NATO hopes. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy signed limited elements of the agreement but warned that Russia was using the process to regroup and rearm.

Meanwhile, Trump’s early rhetoric painted Ukraine and Russia as equally responsible for the war. He berated Zelenskyy, praised Putin, and threatened to withhold aid unless Kyiv complied with US demands. Although recent weeks have seen Trump pivot slightly as he has restored some aid and launched a US–Ukraine mineral deal, his commitment to Ukrainian sovereignty remains uncertain.

The Kremlin appears to view Trump’s diplomacy as guided by emotions. Putin has with drone attacks and fresh demands, while European leaders like Emmanuel Macron of France and Friedrich Merz of Germany openly worry that Trump’s deals legitimise Russia’s aggression. Unless Trump imposes tougher sanctions on Russia or supplies more weapons to Ukraine, his credibility as a peace negotiator will remain in question in the eyes of Zelenskyy and his European backers.

Amid the turmoil in Europe and the Middle East, one area where Trump has seen is South Asia. His mediation helped ease tensions between nuclear-armed rivals India and Pakistan, who had been locked in an escalating tit-for-tat conflict. By leveraging his administration’s personal rapport with both India’s PM Narendra Modi and Pakistan’s army chief Gen. Asim Munir, Trump secured a ceasefire that has held so far.

The India–Pakistan detente lacks the drama of Trump’s other initiatives but may be his most brag-worthy peace-making foray yet. Unlike in Ukraine and Gaza, both parties had domestic incentives to bring an early end to war. Trump capitalised on this opening with a rare show of behind-the-scenes diplomacy, aided by economic incentives and military reassurances.

Trump: I went to Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and the UAE. Brought back $5.1 trillion in two hours.

(The combined GDP of those countries is under $2 trillion. Total fiction.)
pic.twitter.com/1jLGowz6uB

— Republicans against Trump (@RpsAgainstTrump) May 29, 2025

It’s a reminder that Trump’s transactional approach can bear fruit, particularly when aligned with local leaders’ interests and executed without public theatrics.

Trump’s four-day tour of the Gulf in May showcased his evolving strategy. He lifted sanctions on Syria, opened nuclear talks with Iran, and brokered a ceasefire with Yemen’s Houthis. The US President also confirmed that he had stopped Netanyahu from bombing Iranian nuclear facilities, as he is currently negotiating a new nuclear deal with Iran. Notably, he bypassed Israel entirely — a stark departure from his first term, when he moved the US embassy to Jerusalem and cut aid to Palestinian institutions.

Now, Trump is courting Arab investment, talking up regional autonomy, and treating Gulf monarchies as equal partners. Secretary of state Marco Rubio called it a shift from “moralising to partnering”, and Arab leaders have responded warmly, pledging billions in infrastructure and energy investments.

But there is a risk this is all optics. Trump’s own administration has struggled to explain policy shifts, such as lifting sanctions on Syria without congressional input. Moreover, the regional strongmen now view Trump as someone who can be flattered into making concessions.

Still, Trump’s more even-handed posture in the Middle East may be one of the most significant shifts in US foreign policy in decades, even if his peace plans remain embryonic.

At the heart of Trump’s foreign policy lies a contradiction: his ambition to be remembered as a peacemaker is constantly undermined by his own style — impulsive, ego-driven and short on patience. He prefers bold headlines to detailed frameworks and views diplomacy as a series of deals, not a process requiring trust, verification and long-term engagement.

This tension has real consequences. His willingness to offer unilateral concessions to authoritarian leaders (as seen with Putin in this term and Kim Jong Un in his first) undermines negotiating leverage. His sidelining of key stakeholders, like excluding Palestinians from the Abraham Accords or bypassing European allies in Ukraine talks, produces fragile, one-sided outcomes.

Trump’s self-image as a master dealmaker clashes with the slow, grinding realities of peace processes. Ceasefires need monitoring. Agreements require follow-through. And sustainable peace demands inclusion — not just of power players but of those whose lives are most affected by conflict.

Trump’s second-term ambition to be a “peacemaker and unifier” is both audacious and fraught. His bold moves have at times disrupted stagnant diplomacy and created new openings. But more often, they have resulted in confusion and contradictions.

He has no doubt changed the tone and some of the actors in global diplomacy. But to become a true peacemaker, Trump must shed his preference for performance and invest in substance. The world doesn’t need more shows of strength. It needs enduring peace — and that requires more than dealmaking.

Until then, Trump remains a president chasing the mantle of peace, but not yet wearing it.

Ashok Swain is a professor of peace and conflict research at Uppsala University, Sweden. More of his writing may be