Morocco And The ‘Board Of Peace’: A Strategic Gamble Or A Deliberate Alignment? – Analysis

How Rabat has established itself as the Arab pivot of an unprecedented — and controversial — peace architecture conceived by Donald Trump.

Founding member, first financial contributor, first Arab country to commit militarily: by joining Donald Trump’s “Board of Peace” in January 2026, Morocco did not merely sign a charter. It carried out a major geopolitical repositioning, at the crossroads of the Palestinian crisis, the Western Sahara file, and the reshaping of the global multilateral order.

Genesis of an Unprecedented Club

On 22 January 2026, at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Donald Trump unveiled his latest institutional invention: the Board of Peace. The scene was striking. On the podium, alongside the American president, Nasser Bourita, Morocco’s Minister of Foreign Affairs, signed the founding charter. To his left stood Bahrain’s representative. To Trump’s right, the framed charter was displayed like a new constitution of global governance, made in Mar-a-Lago.

The institution was formally born out of United Nations Security Council Resolution 2803, adopted on 17 November 2025, which welcomed the creation of the Board of Peace while clarifying that it was not an official UN body. In plain terms: the UN granted it moral endorsement without conferring binding legal legitimacy. The UN text was itself a compromise: France, Germany, and the United Kingdom did not join the Board; Russia and China abstained during the vote on Resolution 2803, lamenting what they described as “persistent imbalances.”

Originally conceived — based on a proposal by former British Prime Minister Tony Blair put forward in August 2025 — as an international administration mechanism for the Gaza Strip following the war, the Board of Peace quickly evolved. The charter unveiled in January 2026 no longer mentions Gaza explicitly and assigns it a far broader mission: to “promote stability, restore reliable and legitimate governance, and guarantee lasting peace in areas affected or threatened by conflict.” On paper, this could double — or even supplant — the United Nations in its founding mission.

Criticism was swift. The Financial Times described the institution as a “nascent club of autocrats.” Emmanuel Macron’s entourage declared that it was a “private club dominated by Trump, where you have to pay to play — a global version of his Mar-a-Lago court aimed at supplanting the UN itself” with no intention of “responding favourably,” arguing that the initiative “raises major questions regarding respect for the principles and structure of the United Nations.” The governance structure raised eyebrows: a president vested with veto rights, agenda control, the power to appoint members, and to name his own successor — prerogatives described by Maroc Hebdo as an image of the “privatisation of multilateralism.”

Yet around forty countries attended the inaugural meeting on 19 February 2026 at the United States Institute of Peace in Washington. Among them: Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, Kazakhstan, Azerbaijan, Kuwait, Uzbekistan, Indonesia, Kosovo, Albania, Viktor Orbán’s Hungary, and Javier Milei’s Argentina. A heterogeneous roster that confirms the project’s political geography: Arab Gulf states, illiberal democracies, emerging economies eager for American goodwill. And Morocco — the only country from sub-Saharan Africa and the Maghreb to have officially committed.

Davos, Washington: Moroccan Diplomacy in Action

Morocco’s trajectory within the Board of Peace unfolded in two distinct but coherent acts. The first played out in Davos on 22 January 2026: the Kingdom ratified the founding charter as a “founding member,” with Nasser Bourita shaking Donald Trump’s hand before the cameras of the world. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs communicated soberly that “His Majesty King Mohammed VI, commending the commitment and vision of President Donald Trump for the promotion of peace, graciously accepted this invitation.“

The second act took place in Washington on 19 February 2026. It was the Board’s inaugural meeting, attended by Trump himself, Vice President J.D. Vance, and Secretary of State Marco Rubio. Bourita addressed the gathering in English, and his announcements sent shockwaves through the international press. Morocco, he said, “is ready to deploy police officers and train Gazan police, and will deploy senior officers within the joint military command” of the International Stabilization Force (ISF). US General Jasper Jeffers, the designated ISF commander, confirmed that Morocco was among the first five countries to commit troops — alongside Indonesia, Kazakhstan, Kosovo, and Albania. The Moroccan minister added that Rabat was, moreover, “the very first nation to have made a financial contribution” to the Board of Peace.

“His Majesty King Mohammed VI commends and supports your vision and leadership in promoting peace and prosperity in the world, and particularly in the Middle East. Thanks to your peace plan for Gaza, a ceasefire was achieved, a tragic war came to an end, and lives were saved.”— Nasser Bourita, Washington, 19 February 2026

Morocco’s commitment, according to Bourita, rests on five pillars:

• An inaugural financial contribution;
• The deployment and training of Gazan police officers;
• The dispatch of senior military officers to the joint command;
• The establishment of a military field hospital in Gaza; and
• A programme to combat hate speech and promote tolerance and coexistence.

Trump, for his part, cited Morocco by name among the nine countries that had collectively contributed “more than 7 billion dollars” to a Gaza reconstruction fund. He also announced a direct American contribution of 10 billion dollars.

The military figures involved are staggering. According to several diplomatic sources cited by RFI *and *Le Matin d’Algérie, Moroccan troops “could amount to 20,000 soldiers.” An initial deployment is reportedly envisaged near Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip. Ultimately, up to 12,000 Moroccan police officers could be sent to train and supervise the new Palestinian police force, the recruitment of which has already begun, according to the Senior Representative for Gaza, Bulgarian diplomat Nickolay Mladenov, who announced that 2,000 Gazans have already volunteered.

*Key Figures: Board Of Peace (as of 26 February 2026) *

• Founding members invited: approximately 60 countries. Participants at the inaugural meeting (19 Feb.): ~47 states.
• Financial contributions to Gaza announced in Washington: $7 billion (members) + $10 billion (United States).
• Permanent seat: official cost of $1 billion per the charter. Morocco has not confirmed this figure.
• Countries committed to the Stabilization Force (ISF): Indonesia (8,000 troops), Morocco, Kazakhstan, Kosovo, Albania.
• Absent countries: France, Germany, United Kingdom, Canada, Japan, South Korea, India, Brazil, China, Russia.

The Sahara Equation: Peace Sold, Peace Received

To fully understand the Moroccan decision, one must step outside the Gazan framework and look toward the desert. The Western Sahara question has been, for fifty years, the cornerstone of Morocco’s foreign policy. Rabat claims sovereignty over this territory, which it has administered since 1975, proposing a plan of extended autonomy. On the other side, the Polisario Front — backed by Algeria — demands a self-determination referendum.

The dynamic has shifted radically since Donald Trump’s return to the White House. In 2020, during his first term, Trump recognised Moroccan sovereignty over Western Sahara in exchange for the normalisation of Morocco-Israel relations under the Abraham Accords. This precedent shaped the logic of bilateral relations: Washington and Rabat maintain a relationship of do ut des — I give so that you give — whose latest iteration is precisely the Board of Peace.

The timeline speaks for itself. On 19 January 2026, Morocco announced its membership in the Board of Peace. The UN Security Council had just adopted, on 4 November 2025, Resolution 2797, which “fully supports” the autonomy plan proposed by Morocco as the basis for a just, lasting, and mutually acceptable settlement. France went so far as to affirm that “the present and future of Western Sahara lie within the framework of Moroccan sovereignty.” The United States hailed the text as “historic.” On 8–9 February 2026, a first meeting was held at the American Embassy in Madrid between Morocco, Algeria, the Polisario Front, and Mauritania. On 23–24 February 2026, a second round took place in Washington, with the stated objective — according to envoy Steve Witkoff — of reaching a framework agreement “by summer.”

For François Dubuisson, professor of international law at the Université Libre de Bruxelles, this represents “the culmination of an extremely aggressive Moroccan diplomatic strategy“ built on “major economic and strategic arguments: access to resources (fishing, phosphates), migration cooperation with Europe, and a key role in counter-terrorism.” Massad Boulos, Trump’s adviser on Arab and African affairs, exerted explicit pressure on Algeria and the Polisario during the Washington negotiations, warning that “discussions on Western Sahara are not going to drag on indefinitely.”

This exchange dynamic is transparent to Algerian observers. “The iconoclastic American president is not far from operating in a logic of returning the favour to his Moroccan partner,” writes Pravda Burkina Faso, echoing several Maghrebi analyses. Algiers, for its part, abstained during the UN vote on Resolution 2797 and watches with unease this convergence of Israeli normalisation, the Board of Peace, and the Saharan negotiations — all tilting in Rabat’s favour.

Morocco: Arab Pivot of a Trumpian Multilateralism

Beyond the Sahara, Morocco’s presence in the Board of Peace reflects a structural ambition for regional positioning. Two assets make Morocco an irreplaceable player in Trump’s Middle Eastern architecture: its chairmanship of the Al-Quds Committee and its normalisation with Israel.

Since 1975, the King of Morocco has chaired the Al-Quds Committee (the Committee for Jerusalem) of the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC). This role confers upon Mohammed VI a unique moral and religious authority on the question of Jerusalem — a city holy to Islam, Judaism, and Christianity, and whose status lies at the heart of any Israeli-Palestinian peace plan. Through the Bayt Mal Al-Quds Acharif Agency, the executive arm of the Committee, Morocco funds schools, hospitals, and social programmes in East Jerusalem, investing in what an analysis by Le Collimateur calls a “direct-impact diplomacy“ that transforms the Board of Peace into a “bridge between political deliberation and diplomatic reality.”

At the same time, since the 2020 Abraham Accords, Morocco maintains official relations with Israel — a status extremely rare in the Arab world. This dual positioning — belonging to the Arab-Muslim world while being a partner of Tel Aviv — makes it, according to Le Matin d’Algérie, “Trump’s indispensable mediator between Israel and Palestine.” At the inaugural meeting of the Board of Peace, Gideon Saar, Israel’s foreign minister, stood on the podium alongside the Prime Minister of Qatar. Morocco, for its part, was seated in the assembly. An ideal position: neither too close nor too far. Present, engaged, and heard on both sides.

Morocco’s military commitment in Gaza also responds to a logic of institutional influence. By being the first Arab country to publicly announce a troop deployment in the International Stabilization Force, Rabat secures a leading role in the post-conflict governance of the Gaza Strip. Training Gazan police officers means shaping the security structures of the future territory. Deploying officers to the joint command means sitting at the table of operational decisions. Establishing a field hospital means projecting a humanitarian image that enhances diplomatic credibility. Morocco is not merely contributing — it is positioning its pieces for the post-Hamas era.

“The stabilisation and reconstruction of Gaza will enable the launch of a genuine peace process based on the two-state solution.”— Nasser Bourita, 19 February 2026

This statement by Bourita is crucial: by conditioning its engagement on the prospect of a two-state solution, Morocco distinguishes itself from the Board’s most accommodating members and maintains a line of Palestinian legitimacy that is indispensable to its credibility in the Arab world. A way of saying: we are in the Trump club, but we do not endorse everything.

Criticism, Grey Areas and Calculated Risks

Morocco’s membership has not been without raising profound questions — including within the Moroccan press itself. On 25 February 2026, Médias24 published an investigation entitled “Debunk: Did Morocco really pay one billion dollars to Trump’s Board of Peace?” The answer is nuanced. While the Board’s charter stipulates that a state wishing to hold a permanent seat must pay “more than one billion dollars,” the contribution announced by Bourita — described as “the very first” — officially concerns the reconstruction of Gaza, not the institutional admission fee. Yet an American diplomatic source confirmed to Médias24 that all contributions are “voluntary” and “considered as part of the commitment to Gaza.“

The financial opacity is real. The same investigation notes that an “unusual liquidity demand“ from the Moroccan Treasury had unsettled the bond market in the weeks preceding the Washington meeting, with numerous finance professionals drawing a link to “an exceptional external financial commitment.” Without official confirmation of the precise amount, the suspicion that Rabat may have disbursed the institutional billion persists. If so, the investment is colossal — but not necessarily irrational given the expected dividends on the Saharan file.

Deeper still is the geopolitical reproach. According to Afrik.com, “Morocco and Egypt are the only African countries present, within an assembly largely shunned by the major Western democracies and the other 50 African nations.” France, Morocco’s principal historic partner, not only refused to join the Board but sharply criticised the presence of European Commissioner Dubravka Suica at the inaugural meeting, noting that she had “received no mandate” to attend. This Franco-European signal warrants attention: in 2026, Morocco has simultaneously restored its diplomatic relations with Paris after two years of crisis, and now risks cooling them again through its Washington alignment.

Algerian analyst Abdelaziz Rahabi, a former ambassador to Madrid, cuts to the chase: “This Council of Peace resembles more of a multinational corporation’s board of directors with a president wielding imperial powers. The presence of a group of Arab and Muslim states and the absence of the Palestinian Authority amounts to wanting to pacify Gaza without the Palestinians.” The Palestinian Authority was indeed not represented at the 19 February meeting — a symbolically weighty absence that Bourita attempted to offset by insisting on the need to “strengthen Palestinian authority through its legislative institutions.“

The question of the Board’s international legitimacy remains wide open. Its detractors note that its membership — more a coalition of authoritarian regimes and illiberal democracies than of states committed to UN multilateralism — undermines the credibility of any decision it might take. After Trump was denied the 2025 Nobel Peace Prize and declared that he no longer felt “the obligation to think only about peace,” the nature of the underlying political project comes into question. For the Sydney Morning Herald, it is quite simply a “narcissistic project.”

The Bourita Doctrine: Pragmatism Fully Assumed

Morocco’s posture within the Board of Peace is part of a diplomatic vision that could be described as sovereign pragmatism. For a decade, Rabat has systematically chosen to multiply partnerships — with Washington, Paris, Madrid, Tel Aviv, Riyadh, Beijing, Moscow, and Abuja — without aligning itself exclusively with any of them. The Bourita doctrine, if one may call it that, rests on the idea that a small country with neither oil nor first-tier military power must compensate through diplomatic hyperactivity and an ability to serve as an irreplaceable intermediary.

Morocco has drawn lessons from its experience within the African Union, from which it had departed in 1984 on account of Western Sahara, before returning triumphantly in 2017. It has measured the price of absence from major decision-making forums. Entry into the Board of Peace, however imperfect an institution, follows this logic: better to be in the room and weigh in on debates than to remain outside and be subject to others’ decisions.

Driss El Fahli, analyst for Maroc Hebdo, encapsulates the tension: “Initially,” the Board’s charter gave the impression of a privatisation of multilateralism. “But by joining it, Morocco is opting for a pursuit of diplomatic effectiveness compatible with the defence of international law and the Palestinian cause.” The argument is defensible: the UN is paralysed by the veto; the Security Council was unable to stop the war in Gaza for fifteen months; in this institutional vacuum, an imperfect body is better than a lethal status quo.

The question of long-term coherence remains. Morocco has defended the Palestinian cause for decades — Mohammed V was among the first Arab leaders to support Palestinian resistance — and the chairmanship of the Al-Quds Committee anchors this identity in the marble of Islamic institutional life. Participating in a Board whose governance structure favours Trump and in which Israel plays a leading role creates a narrative tension whose effects Rabat will need to manage on the Arab street, among the Gulf states watching closely, and in the African capitals that have chosen abstention.

Toward What Architecture of Peace?

When Donald Trump closed the inaugural meeting of 19 February with the words — “We are going to help Gaza. We are going to sort it out. We will make it a success. We will bring peace there, and we will do the same in other hotspots that arise“ — he was expressing, with his customary emphasis, something the diplomatic world is reluctant to admit: peace, today, is increasingly being negotiated outside traditional multilateral institutions.

The Board of Peace, whatever its imperfections and ulterior motives, embodies this shift. In a world where the UN Security Council is paralysed by cross-vetoes on virtually every major conflict, where the General Assembly passes resolutions that no one implements, and where the great wars of the twenty-first century — Ukraine, Gaza, Sudan, Yemen — seem insoluble within the normative framework inherited from 1945, it is not unreasonable to try something different.

Morocco understood this before many others. By signing at Davos in January 2026, Mohammed VI placed bets on several tables simultaneously: reinforcing the strategic partnership with Washington at the precise moment when that partnership translates into gold for the Saharan file; securing a decision-making seat on post-Gaza governance; projecting the image of a responsible Morocco, militarily and financially committed to the reconstruction of Arab peace; and demonstrating to its Gulf partners that Rabat is a serious interlocutor, capable of moving from declarations to action.

The risks are real, the criticisms legitimate. Isolation from the major European democracies is a non-negligible political cost. The ambiguity surrounding the billion dollars fuels suspicion. The absence of the Palestinian Authority in Washington undermines the legitimacy of the process. And the promise of a two-state solution remains, within Trump’s architecture, more of a slogan than a programme.

But the world, in early 2026, no longer resembles the world of ten years ago. The multilateral order is wavering. Alliances are reconfiguring at a speed that chancelleries struggle to keep up with. In this shifting landscape, Moroccan diplomacy has made a choice: not to remain a spectator. If the Board of Peace delivers on its promises — the stabilisation of Gaza, the beginning of a political solution, support for the Saharan autonomy plan — Rabat will have played the hand of the century. If the institution collapses under the weight of its contradictions, Morocco will need to manage the collateral damage of a lost bet.

In any case, one thing is certain: by making Morocco the Arab pivot of Trump’s grand project to reinvent global governance, Mohammed VI has elevated the Kingdom to a table at which few countries of its size and resources would have dared to sit. Peace, they say, has a price. Morocco has just paid the ante.

You can follow Professor Mohamed Chtatou on X : @Ayurinu