Why Trump Deserves the Nobel Peace Prize

Donald Trump was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. Again. Rep. Anna Paulina Luna’s October 9 nomination marked another Republican effort to recognize a president whose bold and unconventional diplomacy reshaped America’s role on the world stage. Many will scoff and mutter “bad orange man” but I ask them to put emotion aside and assess the facts.

The Middle East has witnessed something remarkable in recent months. The Gaza ceasefire represents a genuine step toward stability. Hostages were returned home, families were reunited, and a framework for rebuilding emerged where many believed only ruin could remain. None of this came from scripted speeches at the United Nations. It came from persistence and pragmatic negotiation, in deal-driven diplomacy with Egypt, Turkey, and Qatar.

The Gaza ceasefire now joins a growing list of quiet successes: the Armenia-Azerbaijan accord in August, the Congo-Rwanda peace deal in June, and, of course, the Abraham Accords from Trump’s first term — those landmark normalization agreements between Israel and the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain, Sudan, and Morocco. For decades, experts insisted that peace in the region was impossible without first resolving the Palestinian issue, but Trump proved those assumptions wrong.

Multiple nations and representatives have recognized these tangible achievements through formal nominations. Pakistan nominated Trump for his intervention during the India-Pakistan crisis. Representatives Buddy Carter, Darrell Issa, and Claudia Tenney have all submitted nominations citing different accomplishments. Yet the Norwegian Nobel Committee, having received Trump’s name repeatedly among hundreds of annual candidates, has never granted him the prize.

This raises uncomfortable questions about what the committee actually values.

Barack Obama received the Nobel Peace Prize in 2009, barely nine months into his presidency. The committee admitted they were rewarding his “extraordinary efforts” rather than achievements. Obama spoke in what often sounded like diplomatic slam poetry — lofty, lyrical, and light on results. His words earned standing ovations; his record, less so. He inspired hope, but he also delivered hell. The very man lauded for peace presided over violence, suffering, and endless war. He went on to authorize more than 540 drone strikes across multiple countries. Under his watch, America’s targeted-killing program expanded dramatically, turning strikes in Pakistan, Yemen, Somalia, and Libya into a grim routine. The so-called “Tuesday Terror meetings”, where Obama personally reviewed kill lists, became an open secret in Washington. Doctors Without Borders saw their hospital in Kunduz reduced to rubble, killing 42 people. Libya descended into anarchy after the U.S.-backed overthrow of Gaddafi. What was hailed as a victory for democracy quickly devolved into a humanitarian nightmare. Rival militias carved the country into fiefdoms, warlords filled the vacuum of power, and the rule of law vanished. Today, in what was once North Africa’s wealthiest nation, migrants are kidnapped, traded, and sold in open-air slave markets. In Syria, Obama’s “red line” turned into a global punchline as chemical weapons were unleashed and hundreds of thousands died. The Nobel laureate left behind the Middle East in flames and a legacy written in the language of drones and silence. Some might even call him a war criminal — a man whose policies turned weddings into funerals and whose “precision strikes” too often found children instead of combatants.

The Nobel Peace Prize’s sordid history extends well beyond Obama. In 1994, Yasser Arafat received the prize despite founding an organization that pioneered airline hijackings and orchestrated the Munich Olympics massacre. In 2012, the European Union won the prize for “advancing the causes of peace, reconciliation, democracy and human rights in Europe” even as much of southern Europe lay in economic ruins. Greece was drowning under austerity, suicides were climbing, and youth unemployment had soared past 50%. Understanding and unity, it seemed, applied only to the bureaucrats in Brussels, not to the millions left jobless and hopeless by their policies.

Trump’s diplomatic record sharply contrasts with these lamentable choices. His achievements are tangible and measurable. Conflicts paused. Nations reconciled. Critics protest that the president’s approach lacks elegance, and that his methods seem mercenary rather than magnanimous. Fair enough. Trump’s diplomacy doesn’t inspire soaring editorials. It involves leverage, pressure, and the kind of hardball negotiation that makes traditional diplomats uncomfortable. But saving lives shouldn’t demand lyrical phrasing. Trump may not read books, but he knows how to read rooms and get things done.

There’s a dark irony watching this unfold. A president who actually brokered concrete peace agreements — bringing Arab nations and Israel together, securing hostage releases, and freezing conflicts — can’t win a prize that went to someone whose administration pioneered “signature strikes” that killed people based on patterns of behavior rather than confirmed identities. Obama’s legacy was shrapnel while Trump’s was signatures.

The Nobel Committee can continue rewarding beautiful intentions and overlooking subsequent bombings, or it can start recognizing actual results. The world has enough speeches about peace. Perhaps it’s time to reward someone who actually delivered some.