Can a 'Board of Peace' Actually End Wars?

What Exactly Is the Board of Peace?

The Board of Peace emerged from what's being called President Trump's "Comprehensive Plan to End the Gaza Conflict"—a 20-point roadmap that goes well beyond Gaza to position this body as a global conflict resolution mechanism. Think of it as an international oversight committee with teeth: the power to coordinate rebuilding efforts, enforce security arrangements, and theoretically prevent future violence.

The initiative includes some concrete steps that sound promising on paper. Major General Jasper Jeffers has been appointed to command an International Stabilization Force (ISF), which will establish security on the ground. There's also the National Committee for the Administration of Gaza (NCAG), a local governing body meant to handle day-to-day administration while international forces maintain order.

On the surface, this addresses a persistent problem in conflict resolution: the gap between ceasefires and lasting peace. Too often, fighting stops but the underlying conditions that sparked violence remain untouched. Infrastructure lies in ruins. Governments lack legitimacy. Armed groups maintain shadow control. The Board of Peace aims to fill that dangerous vacuum with coordinated international action.

Why International Allies Are Split

Here's where things get interesting—and concerning. When the charter was signed in Davos, some notable countries were conspicuously absent. Canada, the United Kingdom, France, Germany, and Italy didn't show up. Meanwhile, the United Arab Emirates, Hungary, and Pakistan put their signatures on the dotted line.

That split tells us something crucial. This isn't a universally embraced initiative with broad international consensus. Instead, it reflects existing geopolitical fault lines and raises questions about whose vision of "peace" will actually be implemented.

Why would traditional Western allies skip such a high-profile peace initiative? Concerns likely include:

These aren't trivial concerns. History is littered with well-intentioned international interventions that ended up prolonging conflicts or creating new problems. Remember the optimism surrounding nation-building efforts in Iraq and Afghanistan? The initial peacekeeping missions in Somalia? Good intentions don't automatically translate into good outcomes.

The Gaza Reality Check

Gaza represents the Board of Peace's first major test case, and honestly, if they can make progress there, it would be genuinely remarkable. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict has defied resolution for generations. Multiple peace processes have collapsed. Deep-seated grievances run through every layer of society. The power dynamics are extraordinarily complex, with regional and international players all pursuing their own agendas.

Can a stabilization force and reconstruction committee cut through all that? I want to believe it's possible, but precedent suggests we should manage our expectations.

What would success actually look like in Gaza? Not some pie-in-the-sky vision of instant peace and prosperity, but realistic benchmarks:

Notice what's missing from that list? Any claim that the Board of Peace will "solve" the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. That's not what peacekeeping and stabilization forces do. At best, they create space for political processes to function. The hard work of reconciliation, addressing root causes, and building sustainable peace? That still falls to the parties themselves.

Lessons from Other Peace Initiatives

We don't have to guess how international peace mechanisms perform—we have decades of data. Some efforts have genuinely saved lives and prevented conflicts from reigniting. Others have become part of the problem.

Consider successful conflict resolution examples from recent history. The Good Friday Agreement in Northern Ireland didn't happen because international forces imposed a solution. It emerged from patient negotiation, addressing underlying grievances, and creating political structures that gave all sides a stake in peace. International involvement helped, but local ownership proved essential.

Similarly, look at post-apartheid South Africa. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission wasn't perfect, but it represented a locally-driven process of confronting painful truths while building a shared future. Compare that to situations where external powers dictated terms and timelines without genuine buy-in from affected populations.

The Board of Peace will need to internalize these lessons if it hopes to succeed where so many previous efforts have fallen short. That means going beyond peacekeeping to genuine peacebuilding—supporting local leadership, addressing systemic injustices, and maintaining commitment even when progress seems painfully slow.

What About Ukraine and Other Conflicts?

While Gaza grabs headlines, it's worth noting that 2026 has seen movement on other long-running conflicts as well. Ukraine's allies announced in early January that they're providing "multilayered international defense guarantees" as part of potential peace negotiations with Russia. The plan includes the UK and France establishing military hubs across Ukraine to support defensive capabilities during and after any ceasefire.

This represents a different model than the Board of Peace—one focused on deterrence and defense rather than neutral peacekeeping. Both approaches have their place. Sometimes, preventing renewed aggression requires visible military commitment. Other times, neutral oversight helps build confidence between formerly warring parties.

The key question: can these different initiatives coordinate rather than working at cross-purposes? The UN Peace Watchlist for 2026 identified five crucial moments for global action this year. Success will depend on whether various peace efforts reinforce each other or create contradictory incentives.

The Role of Mindfulness in Conflict Resolution

Here's something that rarely gets discussed in high-level peace negotiations: the internal dimensions of conflict resolution. You can create all the international mechanisms you want, but unless the people involved can manage their own reactive patterns, negotiations will keep breaking down.

This is where practices like mindfulness and contemplative approaches become relevant—not as feel-good additions, but as essential tools. When negotiators can recognize their own triggers, when they develop capacity to stay present with difficult emotions, when they cultivate genuine curiosity about perspectives that differ from their own, breakthrough becomes possible.

I've seen this firsthand in community mediation settings. The technical aspects matter—having clear processes, skilled facilitators, appropriate venues. But the human elements often determine success or failure. Can people actually listen to each other? Can they acknowledge harm without becoming defensive? Can they imagine futures that don't simply recreate past patterns?

The Board of Peace won't succeed purely through administrative competence. It will require thousands of people—from commanders to local leaders to ordinary citizens—developing capacity to engage across deep differences. That's human development work, not just political engineering.

Skepticism Versus Cynicism: Finding the Right Balance

So where does this leave us? Should we embrace the Board of Peace as a genuine breakthrough in conflict resolution? Or dismiss it as another doomed-to-fail international bureaucracy?

I'd argue for something in between: informed skepticism without complete cynicism.

Skepticism means asking hard questions. Who really controls decision-making? How will success be measured? What happens when powerful countries disagree about next steps? How will this avoid repeating past mistakes? These aren't hostile questions—they're necessary ones.

But cynicism—the assumption that nothing can work, that all international efforts are equally futile—becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. If we write off every peace initiative before it begins, we guarantee failure. We need to maintain space for possibility while remaining clear-eyed about challenges.

What Individuals Can Do

You might wonder what any of this means for regular people who aren't international diplomats or military commanders. Fair question. Here's the thing: peace doesn't only happen at negotiating tables in Geneva or Davos. It happens in daily choices about how we engage with conflict.

When we learn nonviolent communication skills, we contribute to peace culture. When we practice mindful dialogue in our own disagreements, we develop capacities that can spread. When we support organizations working on restorative justice and community healing, we invest in alternatives to retributive systems.

These aren't separate from "real" peacebuilding. They're the foundation. Large-scale peace agreements ultimately depend on millions of people choosing different patterns of relating to conflict. That includes you and me.

The Long View on Peace

Perhaps the most important lesson from decades of peacebuilding work is this: there are no quick fixes. The Board of Peace won't transform Gaza overnight, won't resolve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict by summer, won't usher in global harmony by year's end.

What it might do—if structured well, if sufficiently supported, if allowed to learn from inevitable setbacks—is create slightly better conditions than existed before. Reduce some violence. Rebuild some infrastructure. Open some space for dialogue that wasn't there previously.

That's not sexy. It doesn't make for inspiring speeches or viral social media posts. But it's how actual progress happens: incrementally, imperfectly, with plenty of frustration along the way.

I think about the peace leaders we've studied throughout history—people like Martin Luther King Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, and countless others whose names we don't know. None of them achieved total victory. All of them encountered setbacks, opposition, and moments of despair. What distinguished them was persistent commitment despite those realities.

The Board of Peace deserves neither uncritical celebration nor premature dismissal. It deserves careful attention, thoughtful critique, and genuine hope tempered with realistic expectations. Over the coming months and years, we'll see whether it lives up to its potential or joins the long list of well-meaning failures.

Either way, the work of building peace continues—in international chambers and local communities, through official channels and grassroots movements, via grand initiatives and quiet daily choices. All of it matters. All of it contributes to the kind of world we're collectively creating.