Trump wants a Nobel prize. Europe can exploit that to help Ukraine

Foreign dignitaries invited to the White House know a thoughtful gift can help lubricate the wheels of diplomacy. Volodymyr Zelensky, Ukraine’s president, went the safe route as he arrived in Washington this week, offering a golf club to his golf-mad host, Donald Trump. Past gifts from abroad have included a presidential private jet from Qatar, a posh set of Mont Blanc fountain pens from Angela Merkel (no match for the presidential Sharpie) and a portrait of one Donald J. Trump made with gemstones, courtesy of Vietnam. As a parade of European leaders set out for Washington to support Mr Zelensky, what memorable trinket from their home continent could they possibly bestow upon the president who has everything? Mr Trump, as it happens, no doubt had something in mind. For there is one bauble from Europe he has alluded to repeatedly of late: the medal awarded to recipients of the Nobel peace prize. His pining for the acclaim granted every year by a committee appointed by the Norwegian parliament is turbocharging American diplomacy in a way that might both encourage Europe and cause it to panic.

An obvious plot offers itself to the deft diplomat: could Europe, the continental home of the Nobel prizes, dangle the prospect of a shiny medal and an Oslo banquet as a sort of carrot to lure Mr Trump onto their side when it comes to Ukraine? Alas, the committee that decides on the prize, comprised of five obscure Norwegian grandees drawn from politics and civil society, seems above such antics. Repeated assurances from Mr Trump that he is not campaigning for the gong, nor thinks he will ever get it, are taken as sure signs he desperately wants it. (A recent phone call to the Norwegian finance minister, in which the matter of the Nobel reportedly came up alongside threats of tariffs, is another clue.) Mr Trump wants his dealmaking skills to be recognised in endeavours beyond the building of gaudy skyscrapers, and there is no greater arena than diplomacy. The global elites sneer at mere moneymaking. But recognition from Oslo is worth much more than the medal’s weight in gold (about 200 grams, or $20,000).

The prospect of joining Teddy Roosevelt, Mother Teresa and Martin Luther King as a Nobel laureate (best not to mention Barack Obama) has sent Mr Trump into “peacemaker-in-chief” mode. In recent months he has boasted of spreading harmony faster than the world’s baddies can spark strife. Somewhat improbably he has claimed credit for ending six (or sometimes seven) wars in as many months. Where does the fellow find the time? At least in his own mind, amity now prevails between the Democratic Republic of Congo and Rwanda; there is nothing but fraternal love between India and Pakistan; the guns will forever be silent in the conflicts between Azerbaijan and Armenia, Iran and Israel, Thailand and Cambodia. The repentant warmongers, among them Binyamin Netanyahu of Israel (not so repentant when it comes to Gaza), have backed Mr Trump for the Nobel.

Yet to secure the gong Mr Trump knows he will have to tackle the thorniest war of all: Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. The president campaigned on a promise that peace could be brokered in just 24 hours. Even Hillary Clinton, once Mr Trump’s arch-nemesis, says delivering a deal that doesn’t involve Ukraine making fresh land concessions would be worthy of the prize.

This presents an opportunity for Europe. The American president has at times seemed bored by the war in Ukraine. After a quick deal proved elusive, he appeared ready to dismiss the conflict as “Biden’s war” and move on. If the shimmering mirage of the Nobel can repurpose his messianic vanity towards greater engagement, so much the better. Europeans hope a newly invested Mr Trump will come to realise that Russia is in fact the obstacle to a realistic deal—and thus to Mr Trump’s white-tailed trip to Oslo.

There are downsides to Mr Trump’s Nobel lust. His get-peace-quick schemes might come at the expense of the tiresome legwork needed to stop the fighting for good. Mr Trump, never a man for details, will instinctively seek the headline of an ended war, leaving Vladimir Putin in charge of the fine print. But a mere photo-op in the Rose Garden won’t do for Mr Zelensky. Above all he needs security guarantees America would have to at least support, but the offer of which remains infuriatingly vague. If talks drag on, as no doubt they will, Mr Trump may find it easier to push Ukraine to accept a shoddy peace than to force Russia into a durable one.

Beyond his pining for a gold medal, Mr Trump seems to genuinely loathe wars (and has joked that ending them may be his way into heaven). If nothing else, Trump-as-peacemaker is more pleasant to deal with. European leaders visiting the White House received obsequious praise from the president, in contrast to past encounters. Will that endure after October 10th, once the peace prize is bestowed, inevitably to someone else? For Charlemagne will happily wager there are no sane Norwegians who would plump for Mr Trump to receive any prize, let alone one for peace. The man has, after all, threatened to invade countries, slashed American foreign aid and deployed troops in his own capital.

If it is not in European leaders’ gift to get Mr Trump the Nobel, they should do the next best thing: loudly proclaim they are backing Mr Trump for the prize, with letters of endorsement to boot, and drop hints of “Oslo having been spoken to”. Such nominations have zero value; well over 100,000 worthies, including history professors at fourth-tier universities, can put forward whomever they choose for consideration. Several hundred make the cut each year; even Adolf Hitler, of all people, was nominated once. But the gesture will go down well in Mar-a-Lago. If Europe can find a way to channel Mr Trump’s prize-winning delusions to its advantage, a little Nobel tomfoolery may be worth it. ■