In Jerusalem’s Knesset this week, U.S. President Donald Trump was given the kind of reception reserved for biblical heroes. Standing ovations, emotional tributes, and an unprecedented Israeli Parliament resolution promising to “campaign globally” for his nomination to the 2026 Nobel Peace Prize. A dramatic gesture, but one that reflects Israel’s deep gratitude — and strategic calculation. For Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his war-fatigued nation, Trump is not just a friend; he’s seen as the deliverer who kept Israel’s enemies in check. When Hamas militants took Israeli civilians hostage during the October 7 massacre two years ago, it was Trump who threatened “total annihilation” if the hostages weren’t released, if he returns to White House. When Iran flexed its nuclear muscles again this summer, Trump ordered a targeted strike that reportedly crippled key uranium enrichment sites near Isfahan. To his supporters, this was not warmongering but deterrence — “peace through strength,” as Ronald Reagan once called it. No wonder the Knesset’s mood was jubilant. Netanyahu called Trump “the greatest defender of Israel in modern history,” praising his “uncompromising resolve” in the face of what he termed a global propaganda war against Israel. “No U.S. President has stood by us like this,” he declared, recalling how world powers, from the UN to the EU, have pressured Israel to “surrender Gaza to Hamas unconditionally.” But while Israel’s love affair with Trump is politically understandable, the larger question remains: Does he really deserve a Nobel Peace Prize? Let’s start with the facts. Trump’s first term saw the signing of the Abraham Accords in 2020 — a milestone that normalized relations between Israel and several Arab nations, including the UAE, Bahrain, Morocco, and Sudan. For the first time in decades, Israel’s neighbours recognized that coexistence, not conflict, could yield dividends. Even critics of Trump’s brash diplomacy admitted that few American presidents had achieved as much tangible progress in the Middle East.
His second term, though, has been anything but quiet. The Hamas–Israel war that reignited last year could have spiralled into a full-scale regional confrontation had Trump not drawn his now-famous “red lines.” His administration’s covert coordination between Israel, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia reportedly helped prevent Hezbollah from opening a second front in northern Israel. Meanwhile, his direct communication channel with Tehran — through Oman and Qatar — appears to have cooled Iranian aggression, at least temporarily. For the Nobel Committee, however, “peace” is often a matter of narrative rather than outcome. Barack Obama, let’s remember, won the prize in 2009 for his promises, not his policies. Trump, by contrast, is a paradox: a leader whose threats of war have arguably prevented wars. His doctrine is unapologetically transactional — “I’ll protect you, but you must stand with us.” It may sound crude, but in a Middle East where diplomacy is often written in blood, it has worked better than most idealistic UN resolutions. Israel, meanwhile, is determined to make Trump’s Nobel campaign a geopolitical statement. The Knesset resolution is not just about rewarding an ally — it’s a message to the world that the Jewish state will not let its friends go unrecognized while its enemies go unpunished. Netanyahu himself, in a visibly emotional address, declared: “The children of Abraham must now stand together — beyond borders, beyond faiths — for peace that endures.” Whether that sentiment survives the region’s next flare-up is anyone’s guess. But Trump’s calculated re-entry into global power politics has altered the Middle East equation once again. His America is not the cautious, consensus-seeking superpower of old. It is a nation projecting force as diplomacy, and diplomacy as deterrence. Critics call it reckless. Supporters call it realism. Either way, Trump has forced the world to confront uncomfortable truths — that peace often needs a bully, that deterrence sometimes does what dialogue can’t, and that moral grandstanding rarely stops missiles. If the Nobel Committee dares to look beyond its usual ideological comfort zone, it may find that Trump, of all people, has a stronger case for peace than his polished predecessors. Israel certainly thinks so — and in today’s turbulent world, perhaps the loudest man in global politics should be also the one making the strongest case for silence on the battlefield.
