Shrayan Sen
Few global figures embody contradiction as starkly as Donald Trump. At a time when the language of peace is repeatedly invoked to justify the use of force, Trump stands at the centre of a widening moral and political paradox — celebrated in symbolic gestures as a peace enabler while actively advancing a worldview rooted in coercion, intervention and threat.
This contradiction came into sharp focus when Venezuelan opposition leader and Nobel Peace Prize winner María Corina Machado expressed her willingness to offer or symbolically share her Nobel Peace Prize with Trump. Her reasoning was political gratitude — the belief that US pressure helped dismantle authoritarian rule in Venezuela. Yet peace, when filtered through power politics, often loses its ethical anchor.
Even as such symbolism played out, Trump ordered retaliatory US military strikes against Islamic State positions in Syria, reaffirming Washington’s readiness to use force as a primary instrument of security. Counter-terrorism may offer justification, but it does not erase the reality that peace, under Trump’s doctrine, is something imposed rather than negotiated.
The pattern extends beyond the Middle East. In Venezuela, US involvement in the removal and capture of President Nicolás Maduro has been viewed by many across the world as an extraordinary breach of sovereignty. The overthrow of an authoritarian ruler may appear morally satisfying, but external intervention in the internal political order of a nation sets a precedent that undermines international norms.
Trump’s rhetoric on Greenland further exposes this mindset. His repeated assertions that the island could be acquired “the easy way or the hard way” reduce diplomacy to intimidation, reviving an era where territorial ambition was openly enforced by stronger powers.
Now, Iran enters this growing list of contradictions. Trump has consistently provoked confrontation with Iran, openly encouraging pressure and hinting at deeper involvement amid internal unrest. The protests within Iran — driven by public anger against authoritarian governance — are real, organic and, in many respects, justified. Popular resistance to repression is not the issue.
The problem lies elsewhere. US intervention, overt or covert, into the internal political struggles of a sovereign nation cannot be justified simply because the ruling system is authoritarian. When foreign powers seek to shape internal outcomes, legitimate movements risk being delegitimised, framed as foreign-sponsored rather than homegrown. What begins as solidarity often ends as destabilisation.
Trump’s defenders argue that strength deters chaos and that intervention prevents greater violence. Critics counter that peace enforced through fear, sanctions and military threats is neither durable nor ethical. The Nobel Peace Prize was conceived to honour reconciliation, dialogue and the reduction of conflict — not its strategic management through dominance.
This moment exposes a deeper global dilemma. In an age of insecurity, leaders who project force are increasingly hailed as peace-makers, while restraint is dismissed as weakness. Trump thrives in this environment, where peace is redefined as victory and sovereignty becomes conditional.
The offer of a Nobel Peace Prize — even symbolically — to a leader associated with military strikes, regime intervention, territorial threats and pressure on sovereign states is not merely ironic. It reflects a world struggling to agree on what peace truly means, and whether power has replaced principle as its defining measure.