Only Trump superfans turn up for ‘Board of Peace’ signing

Only Trump superfans turn up for ‘Board of Peace’ signing

Only Trump superfans turn up for ‘Board of Peace’ signing

The invite list was long, but even longer were the polite excuses people offered to skip the Board of Peace ceremony.

This time, however, the room felt smaller, quieter, and unmistakably different.

Those gathered were not the usual Davos crowd. Among the invitees were Argentina’s iconoclastic president Javier Milei, a familiar grinning Trump superfan, and a handful of leaders better described as strongmen in a world where power increasingly trumps liberal ideals. Indonesia’s Prabowo Subianto, a former general with a controversial past, was there. So was Hungary’s Viktor Orban, who over decades has transformed his country into an illiberal state and a constant irritant within the European Union.

The applause was polite but thin. The atmosphere subdued. Fewer than 20 people filled the room, and Trump, surveying the audience from the stage, appeared perfectly at ease. As attendees waited to be summoned in pairs to sign the charter, the faces looking up included diplomats from Middle Eastern monarchies and former Soviet satellites — most strikingly Belarus, whose long-serving leader is widely dubbed “Europe’s last dictator.”

“They’re all friends of mine,” Trump said, pausing as he scanned the room. No — actually, I like this group. I like every single one of them. Can you believe it?”

Seated nearby were the presidents of Azerbaijan and Armenia, adversaries whose fragile peace Trump counts among the eight conflicts he claims to have ended. The symbolism was deliberate, even if the audience was sparse.

What stood out most was not who came, but who stayed away. The invitation list was extensive, yet the list of polite excuses was longer. Europe was largely absent. Orban was the lone notable exception, making a special trip to Davos solely for Trump — despite his open disdain for the World Economic Forum, an event he has attended only once before, back in 2000.

The ceremony, meant to project global unity, instead underscored a narrower circle — one where loyalty mattered more than legitimacy, and absence spoke louder than applause.