President Trump announced Sunday that members of his newly created Board of Peace have pledged $5 billion toward Gaza reconstruction, with member nations committing thousands of personnel to maintain security in the territory.

The announcement, made via Truth Social, sets the stage for the board's inaugural meeting on February 19 at the Donald J. Trump Institute of Peace in Washington.

More than 20 countries have accepted invitations to join the body, which Trump chairs. Israel is among them. Indonesia's military expects to have up to 8,000 troops ready by the end of June for potential deployment as part of a humanitarian and peace mission, The Hill reported.

The price of admission to a permanent seat: $1 billion.

A New Architecture for an Old Problem

The Board of Peace represents the second phase of Trump's 20-point peace plan for Gaza. Its mandate is sweeping — supervise postwar restoration, enforce the ceasefire, and oversee the disarmament of Hamas. Trump made clear where the burden of compliance falls:

"Very importantly, Hamas must uphold its commitment to Full and Immediate Demilitarization."

That demand matters because the ceasefire that took effect in October has already been broken several times. A peace agreement without enforcement is just a press release. The Board of Peace is designed to be the enforcement mechanism — an international security force with real money behind it and real troops on the ground.

Trump's Truth Social post did not specify which member nations are making the $5 billion in pledges or which countries would contribute personnel. Those details will presumably crystallize at the February 19 meeting. But the financial and military commitments already outlined represent something the international community has talked about for decades without delivering: a concrete, funded, staffed plan for Gaza's future that doesn't route through the United Nations' permanent bureaucracy.

Who's In — And Who Isn't

The roster tells its own story. Israel accepted. Indonesia — the world's largest Muslim-majority nation — is preparing thousands of troops. More than 20 countries signed on.

Then there's the other column. France, Germany, Greece, Italy, Norway, Slovenia, Sweden, the United Kingdom, and Ukraine all declined Trump's invitation.

The European refusals follow a familiar pattern. These are nations that have spent years calling for peace in the Middle East from behind podiums, issuing communiqués and funding NGOs, while avoiding the kind of binding financial and military commitments that actually change conditions on the ground. When presented with a mechanism that requires real investment — a billion-dollar seat at the table — they passed.

It's worth noting what that list represents: countries that prefer the comfort of multilateral institutions where responsibility is diffused, and outcomes are optional. The Board of Peace inverts that model. It demands skin in the game. That apparently proved too much for Western Europe's foreign ministries.

Canada Gets the Door

Trump revoked Canada's invitation to the Board of Peace after Prime Minister Mark Carney voiced opposition to tariffs the president had proposed against European allies in connection with his bid to acquire Greenland. The move signals that membership in this body isn't a courtesy — it's a strategic relationship with expectations attached. Carney chose public opposition. Trump chose consequences.

The $1 Billion Question

The membership fee structure is one of the most interesting aspects of this entire enterprise. A $1 billion buy-in for a permanent seat transforms the Board of Peace from a talking shop into something closer to an investment consortium. Countries that pay have a stake in the outcome. Countries that don't pay don't get a vote.

This is the opposite of how international bodies typically operate. At the United Nations, every nation gets a seat regardless of contribution, which is precisely why U.N. resolutions on the Middle East have the shelf life of wet paper. The Board of Peace ties influence to commitment. It's a transactional model applied to diplomacy — and for a region where idealism has failed for seventy years, transactionalism might be exactly what's needed.

Trump himself framed the stakes in characteristically bold terms:

"The Board of Peace will prove to be the most consequential International Body in History, and it is my honor to serve as its Chairman."

What Happens Next

February 19 will be the first real test. The inaugural meeting should clarify which nations are contributing what, both in dollars and in personnel. Indonesia's troop commitment, expected to be ready by the end of June, represents the most concrete military pledge so far. If other Muslim-majority nations follow that lead, the security force could carry a legitimacy that a Western-only deployment never would.

The harder question is Hamas. A ceasefire that has already fractured multiple times won't hold on goodwill alone. Demilitarization is the linchpin, and Hamas has never voluntarily surrendered its arsenal. The Board of Peace provides the international community with a structure to enforce that demand, but enforcement requires will, not just infrastructure.

Five billion dollars. Thousands of troops. Twenty nations at the table. The architecture exists. Now it has to work.