Trump’s iron hand in a velvet glove

When María Corina Machado dedicated her Nobel Peace Prize to the people of Venezuela and, conspicuously, to Donald Trump, she did more than honor the brash American president. She revealed who she sees as the true standard-bearer of peace in her region, and perhaps beyond.

The feeling may not be mutual for Trump when it comes to Machado. But then, Trump will be Trump, declaring that he richly deserved the accolade, while the White House insisted that Machado’s win was a case of politics overshadowing real peace. Sour grapes, perhaps?

Machado’s dedication, coming amid a US military buildup near Venezuelan shores and targeted strikes on narcotics routes, underscores a core thesis: peace in an era of authoritarian pushback sometimes requires the projection of strength and strategic resolve.

The Nobel Committee passed over Trump for 2025, having already made its choice before the announcement of the deal he brokered to end the fighting in Gaza. But Machado’s gesture implicitly critiqued that omission and suggested that he — not she — should have been the rightful recipient.

There’s no denying those headline-hogging developments in Gaza, where Trump’s flamboyant diplomacy has left an indelible mark. Convened under US leadership, the October 2025 ceasefire between Israel and Hamas hinged on a dramatic hostage exchange.

The deal called for the return of 47 Israeli hostages — both living and dead — in exchange for 250 prisoners and 1,700 Palestinians held in Israeli custody. Hamas followed through: all 20 surviving Israeli hostages were released to Red Cross monitors in two groups, including the second tranche of 13 handed over in Khan Yunis.

In all this, Trump did not act as a passive mediator. He arrived in Israel and was set to address the Knesset at press time. He is to travel next to Egypt, bringing together more than 20 heads of state for a peace summit aimed at ending the war, stabilizing Gaza, and opening a pathway for regional diplomacy.

Trump’s 20-point peace plan, unveiled in late September, stipulated that Israel would withdraw, hostages would be released, and humanitarian aid would flow. He did not merely broker an agreement; mighty America could not do it alone. He forged a diplomatic coalition that forced Hamas’ hand.

Analysts have noted that this was not a peace deal born of idealism but a calculated squeeze — Hamas risked exclusion from postwar governance and the loss of safe havens if it balked.

And even beyond Gaza, Trump’s Middle East slate has precedent. He was one of the architects of the Abraham Accords, which normalized relations between Israel and several Arab states, forging new Arab -Israeli bridges.

He has pushed for multiple ceasefires between Israel and Iran, positioning himself as a broker in regional tensions long deemed intractable. Yet Trump is no doctrinaire liberal dove. His foreign policy has always marched hand in glove with a transactional posture, a businessman’s ethic projected onto nations.

His return to a trade war with China — threatening 100-percent tariffs and signaling brinkmanship — reminded onlookers that peace, too, is a commodity that can be priced if necessary. The same instinct surfaces in his foreign diplomacy: pressure, zero-sum negotiation, leveraging assets over deference.

This duality of offering peace while threatening foes with mayhem is not a bug but a feature of the Trump era. Machado’s laureate dedication may hint that even pacifism sometimes requires an overseer with the strongest hand.

Granting Trump the 2025 Nobel Peace Prize would not have rewarded idealism unmoored from power but legitimized the view that sustainable peace often flows through the channels that combine leverage, diplomacy and resolve.

If the Nobel criterion is “the most or best work toward fraternity between nations,” Trump’s active diplomacy in Gaza, backed by concrete deliverables, places him as a leading candidate — arguably more so than laissez-faire pacifists.

Maybe in 2026?