When Donald Trump strode into the World Economic Forum in Davos this January flanked by Jared Kushner and other confidants, it was ostensibly to sign a charter establishing a “Board of Peace.” The document, hailed by its backers as a technocratic alternative to decades of dead‑end diplomacy, promises “pragmatic judgment” and a “nimble and effective” institution to rebuild war‑torn Gaza. The preamble reads like an attempt to imitate the United Nations Charter without its collective obligations. Beneath that veneer, the charter sets up a structure that concentrates virtually all authority in the hands of its chairman, Donald J. Trump, and relegates Palestinians to spectators while foreign investors draw up the blueprints for their homeland.
A personal chairmanship with no term limits
The charter treats the chairmanship as a personal role rather than an office tethered to the U.S. presidency, or any other head of state. The text explicitly states that “Donald J. Trump shall serve as inaugural Chairman of the Board of Peace,” with no mention of the presidential office or any fixed term. In other words, the chairmanship belongs to Trump, exclusively. The charter further grants him the sole authority to designate his own successor; replacement can occur only upon his resignation or incapacitation, and even then the successor is someone he has already chosen. Once appointed, the chairman can renew the board ad infinitum. It is scheduled to dissolve only when the chairman deems it “necessary or appropriate,” and the board can otherwise continue indefinitely with annual renewals controlled by him.
Membership is by invitation only. The charter states that membership commences when a state consents to be bound after receiving an invitation from the chairman. The initial term lasts three years and is renewable “by the Chairman,” while states that contribute $1 billion in cash to fund the board’s activities secure permanent membership; an echo of pay‑to‑play diplomacy. Member states may be removed at any time by the chairman, subject only to a veto by two‑thirds of the other members. A diplomat quoted by Reuters said the model resembles a “Trump United Nations” that sells permanent membership to those demonstrating “commitment” – a euphemism for financial support.
Agenda control and veto power
The Board of Peace is ostensibly composed of heads of state and government who meet to vote on budgets, international agreements, and major policies. Yet every aspect of its operations is subject to the chairman’s approval. The agenda for voting sessions, to be held at least annually, is set by the executive board “subject to notice and comment by Member States and approval by the Chairman.” Decisions require a majority vote of member states but do not take effect unless the chairman approves them; he may also cast a tie‑breaking vote. The chairman may invite regional bodies to attend under “such terms and conditions as he deems appropriate,” and he alone may create, modify, or dissolve subsidiary entities. In case of disputes over the meaning or application of the charter, the chairman is “the final authority” on interpretation. He is empowered to issue resolutions or directives unilaterally, further eroding any semblance of collective governance.
The extent of this concentration of power is jaw‑dropping. Trump has the sole power to invite states, set agendas, override board decisions and terminate membership. He selects the executive board, interprets the charter, chooses his successor, and controls the board’s budget. Membership is renewable at his discretion and can be revoked unilaterally. His personal control of a peace‑building institution fits seamlessly with the pay‑for‑play ethos of his foreign policy. Even the board’s duration hinges on his whim. The charter allows the board to be dissolved only when the chairman decides or at the end of every odd‑numbered year unless he renews it by November 21. Thus, Trump can keep the board alive indefinitely, effectively constructing a new international organization under his, or his chosen successor’s, personal chairmanship.
Layers of subservience: executive boards and technocrats
Below the Board of Peace is an executive board selected entirely by the chairman. Members serve two‑year terms but may be removed or reappointed at his discretion. The executive board elects its own chief executive, but this individual is nominated by the chairman and subject to his veto. The executive board’s decisions become effective only until the chairman chooses to overturn them. He may establish subcommittees and determine their mandates, meaning that all administrative structures derive from his authority.
At the bottom sits the National Committee for the Administration of Gaza (NCAG), a Palestinian technocratic body. According to the White House, the NCAG will manage public services and economic development under the supervision of a U.S.‑appointed high representative. Gaza’s only Palestinian component is this committee; the top decision‑making positions are reserved for foreign leaders and investors. Gaza’s future is thus to be managed by an international corporate board while Palestinians remain relegated to municipal duties.
“Glitzy Gaza” at Davos
If the board’s composition evokes colonial governance, the development pitch that accompanied its launch further exposes its priorities. At the signing ceremony in Davos, Kushner presented a slide deck promising to turn Gaza into a glitzy resort. The plan, he said, could be completed in three years if Hamas demilitarizes. Kushner described Gaza’s reconstruction as “a Mediterranean utopia” with terraced towers, a seaport, and an airport. He called the project a “master plan” for “catastrophic success” and urged critics to “just calm down for 30 days” while the new board gets to work. He and Trump repeatedly emphasized Gaza’s “beautiful piece of property” on the sea, underscoring the real‑estate logic behind the initiative. Kushner advocated a free‑market economy in Gaza, claiming that the plan would deliver “100 percent full employment” and raise household incomes to $13,000 per year within a decade. He insisted there was “no plan B” and called for $25 billion in private investment.
Such rhetoric reveals a striking disconnect. While Gaza reels from what rights groups call a genocide that has killed over 71,000 Palestinians and displaced virtually the entire population, U.S. officials promote luxury developments contingent on the disarmament of the territory’s defenders. The requirement that Hamas demilitarize before reconstruction can begin effectively conditions aid on surrender. Kushner’s reference to Gaza’s waterfront as prime real estate echoes his earlier suggestion that the enclave’s inhabitants could be removed temporarily to make way for redevelopment. The Davos pitch thus appears less about humanitarian recovery than about transforming Gaza into an investment opportunity for global capital.
A colonial echo chamber
Critics across the political spectrum have denounced the Board of Peace as neo‑colonial. Rights advocates told Reuters that having Trump supervise a foreign territory’s governance resembles a colonial structure and undermines the United Nations. Diplomatic sources warned that the board could become a permanent global peace‑making body that rivals the UN. One diplomat described the plan as a “Trump United Nations that ignores the fundamentals of the U.N. charter.” Several European governments expressed concern that the board might erode multilateral institutions and privilege wealthy states that can afford membership fees.
Gaza analyst Iyad al‑Qarra said that Trump treats Gaza “not as a homeland, but as a bankrupt company in need of a new board of directors.” He describes the structure as a “corporate takeover” that turns sovereignty into a commercial venture. The lineup of investors and real‑estate developers at the top, he suggests, reflects the transformation of the Palestinian cause into a business deal. Even Israeli objections to the inclusion of Turkish and Qatari officials appear more tactical than principled; analysts note that Israel still retains security control while outsourcing Gaza’s day‑to‑day misery to international donors.
A dystopian vision without Gazans
What emerges is a dystopian vision for Gaza’s future. The board’s charter eliminates any possibility of Palestinian self‑determination; all authority flows upward to a chairman who owes his position to personal ambition rather than democratic mandate. By tying membership to billion‑dollar payments and awarding permanent seats to financiers and war hawks, the plan monetizes governance and disenfranchises those whose lives are at stake. The executive board resembles a consortium of business executives and politicians who view Gaza’s reconstruction as a chance to implement neoliberal policies and real‑estate projects.
Furthermore, the board’s insistence on complete demilitarization before any rebuilding can begin ensures that Gaza remains under Israeli military domination. Israel’s assault has killed tens of thousands of people and created a hunger crisis; yet the board offers no mechanism to halt the bombardment or lift the blockade. Instead, it conditions aid on the elimination of armed resistance. This mirrors earlier proposals in which U.S. envoy Kushner offered economic incentives only if Palestinians abandoned claims to their land.
The plan’s disregard for Palestinian agency is perhaps its most striking feature. Despite repeated references to “peace” and “partnership,” the board includes no Palestinian voices at the top. Palestinians are relegated to a municipal committee under the supervision of a foreign high representative. The board invites 60 nations to join and solicits billion‑dollar memberships, but it does not invite the people whose fate it claims to manage. Even the technocratic NCAG is answerable to the board and not to Gaza’s residents.
Empire disguised as peace
By designating himself chairman for life and constructing a governance structure that is answerable only to him, Donald Trump has created an organ that resembles a private company more than an international peace‑building body. Its membership roster reads like a who’s who of pro‑Israel hawks, real‑estate speculators and corporate financiers. The “glitzy Gaza” pitch at Davos underscores the board’s priorities: expensive towers, free‑market economics, and a lavish Mediterranean destination built atop the ruins of Palestinian homes. As rights advocates and diplomats have observed, this plan is less about peace than about consolidating U.S. and Israeli control over Gaza’s future. It is a dystopian vision for Gaza without Gazans – a world in which sovereignty is commodified, resistance is criminalized, and war profiteers masquerade as peace‑makers.
Alan Mosley is a historian, jazz musician, policy researcher for the Tenth Amendment Center, and host of It’s Too Late, “The #1 Late Night Show in America (NOT hosted by a Communist)!” New episodes debut every Wednesday night at 9ET across all major platforms; just search “AlanMosleyTV” or “It’s Too Late with Alan Mosley.”
