‘Chairman Trump’ and a Dystopian Vision for Gaza Without Gazans
by Alan
Mosley | Jan
25, 2026
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.