The Price of Peace: How Trump Is Turning Wars and Settlements Into Business Deals

Why would a victor today need to loot cities, haul away machinery and demand gold when, in the 21st century, it is possible to obtain oil fields for a hundred years, a transport corridor for nearly a century, and a share of all future revenues from the natural resources of the “defeated” side?

Photo: White House website

Donald Trump

The Nobel Peace Prize Candidate

Donald Trump very much wanted to become the president of peace. He wanted it so badly that throughout almost the entire first year of his second term, he regularly reminded humanity that he was the one ending wars, the one capable of reaching deals where everyone else had spent decades merely talking, and that, for some reason, his name was still missing from the list of Nobel Peace Prize laureates.

Even before returning to the White House, he had promised to end the Russian-Ukrainian war within 24 hours. It later turned out that the 24 hours had been said somewhat “sarcastically.” But another calculation soon emerged: Trump claimed that he had stopped eight wars and therefore that the Nobel Prize was practically obliged to find its way to the White House. When it did not, the US president wrote an astonishingly candid letter to the prime minister of Norway in January 2026. Since he had not been given the Nobel Peace Prize for ending “eight wars plus,” he said he no longer felt obliged to think exclusively about peace. Forty days later, on February 28, the war between the United States and Israel and Iran began. Sometimes history has a sense of humor that no satirist could improve upon.

Peace With Everyone, but on Trump’s Terms

At the same time, Trump’s first year really did unfold under the banner of peace — only a rather peculiar kind of peace. America was simultaneously waging a global tariff war; the president was discussing the acquisition of Greenland, turning Canada into the 51st state and taking back the Panama Canal; he was threatening European allies with tariffs if they refused to help with the purchase of Danish territory; and then, for several weeks, he effectively made relations within NATO dependent on Copenhagen’s answer to the question of whether it might finally be willing to sell the island. In January 2026, Trump even threatened additional tariffs against eight European countries until Washington was given the opportunity to buy Greenland. He later backed away from the threat.

It makes for a rather unusual school of peacemaking: first explain to an ally that America really needs its territory, then threaten it with economic sanctions, and once a compromise has been reached, announce yet another victory for peace.

The Snarl of Capitalism

Old textbooks once explained all of this with a simple term — the “snarl of capitalism.” The expression has long since gone out of fashion, but Trump seems to have decided to give it a new commercial appeal.

It would be too simple, however, to claim that the American president hands government contracts to specific political sponsors: such an assertion would require evidence of a direct exchange of “election money for post-election contracts.” We do not have that.

But there is something else, and it is considerably more interesting: the Trump administration itself has almost officially turned the volume of contracts, investments, purchases of American weapons, access to raw materials and future profits for American companies into a unit of measurement for foreign-policy success.

Peace can no longer simply be peace. It needs a business plan.

The Middle East Valued in the Trillions

Trump does little to hide this. His first major trip to the Persian Gulf countries in May 2025 was presented by the White House primarily as a gigantic commercial operation. The administration counted more than $2 trillion in agreements and commitments: Saudi Arabia — a declared investment package worth $600 billion; Qatar — economic agreements and a proposed exchange worth up to $1.2 trillion; and the UAE — more than $200 billion in new commercial contracts, on top of a previously announced investment framework worth $1.4 trillion.

Not all these figures represent real money already sitting in a bank account. Some involve long-term promises, memorandums, purchases and projects that had already been under discussion. But the logic of the trip remains unchanged.

One Arab official summed it up with almost indecent precision: “business, business and business.” The White House valued the Saudi arms package alone at nearly $142 billion — aircraft, air-defense systems, missiles, naval and ground systems, communications, training and maintenance. In other words, years of orders for the American military-industrial complex.

Peace was being strengthened. The accounting books of American corporations were being strengthened particularly well.

The Old Version of War Reparations

The very idea of receiving material compensation for victory is hardly new. In the Middle Ages, a victorious army would simply enter a city and take — or, more precisely, loot — whatever it could carry away. Later, this became known as reparations and indemnities.

After World War II, everything happened in a much more civilized manner, on the basis of international agreements. Germany handed over equipment, factories, rolling stock, foreign assets and technology.

The Potsdam agreements explicitly provided for the dismantling of industrial equipment and its transfer to the victors. The Soviet Union received factory equipment from its own occupation zone and part of the equipment from the western zones. The United States, meanwhile, extracted German technologies and brought more than 1,500 German and other foreign scientists, engineers and technical specialists to America under Operation Paperclip and related programs.

The difference from ancient looting was substantial: everything was now documented through acts, commissions and departmental protocols.

21st-Century Reparations Without Convoys

In the 21st century, even machinery no longer needs to be dismantled. It is cumbersome, expensive and looks bad on television.

It is far more convenient to establish an investment fund, a concession or a special-purpose company, sign an agreement granting preferential access, secure development rights for 49, 99 or 100 years, and ceremoniously present the whole arrangement as a program of reconstruction and prosperity.

Formally, nobody is looting anything. The defeated side is even promised investment. Yet after the war, it somehow turns out that the most attractive assets have already been incorporated into the economic structure of the victor.

The 21st-century version of reparations does not arrive in a convoy. It arrives with lawyers.

The Ukrainian Deal: Tribute for 100 Years

Ukraine became one of the first major examples of this new model.

It is important not to exaggerate here — the actual arrangement is interesting enough without journalistic embellishment. In January 2025, Kyiv, clearly in gratitude for military support, concluded a 100-year partnership with Britain, under which London became a preferred partner in a number of areas, including energy and critical minerals.

Trump did not cancel or “outbid” the British agreement. He did something much more practical: a separate American system of economic participation appeared alongside it.

On April 30, 2025, the United States and Ukraine signed what the media primarily presented as a “rare-earth minerals deal,” although it was actually an agreement to establish a joint Reconstruction Investment Fund.

Ukraine agreed to direct 50% of future state revenues from new licenses for the development of critical minerals, oil and gas into the fund. Existing fields and current budget revenues were not formally transferred under the agreement, state ownership was preserved, and the fund’s management was structured on a parity basis.

But the United States received a preferential opportunity to purchase the resources or determine their buyer. The structure itself extended beyond minerals to hydrocarbons and related infrastructure.

Behind the attractive phrase “rare-earth metals” lay considerably more: oil and gas infrastructure, refineries, pipelines and terminals, including infrastructure at the port of Odesa — in other words, everything that could potentially generate revenue as part of the country’s future reconstruction.

And naturally, after that, Trump, now effectively defending America’s own economic interests in Ukraine, threw himself into persuading Putin to end the war with renewed energy.

It did not work.

But whatever form the conflict’s eventual end may take, the main thing had already been accomplished: Washington had secured itself a seat at the table where future profits from the development of Ukrainian resources and the reconstruction of related infrastructure would be divided.

Peace First — but Not for People, for Investment

And this is where a characteristic feature of Trump’s diplomacy emerges.

Peace becomes highly desirable not only because people stop dying. After peace comes, it is finally possible to build mines, extract oil, lay roads, launch funds and earn a return on invested capital.

As long as missiles are flying over a deposit, it is a poor investment asset. Once the missiles stop flying, an investment banker immediately begins to see the surrounding landscape in a much more favorable light.

That is why the peacemaker and the developer can quite successfully coexist in the same person in modern politics.

Trump’s Corridor in the Caucasus

In the South Caucasus, this philosophy received an almost perfect embodiment.

In August 2025, with Trump’s mediation, Armenia and Azerbaijan took a major step toward ending their decades-long conflict. Peace between two states that had fought each other for decades is, in itself, undoubtedly valuable.

But together with peace came the Trump Route for International Peace and Prosperity — TRIPP, a transport route through Armenian territory connecting the main part of Azerbaijan with Nakhchivan while simultaneously becoming an important link in the Trans-Caspian route from Central Asia to Europe.

And here, once again, peace immediately acquired a commercial component.

According to the US-Armenian framework published in 2026, the TRIPP Development Company is being established, with the American side expected to receive 74% and Armenia 26%.

The company receives exclusive rights to use and develop designated sections initially for 49 years, after which the agreement may be extended for another 50 years. Following the extension, Armenia’s share rises to 49%.

Trump’s Transport Prize

But what is particularly interesting is that this is by no means just a railway line.

Official documents list railways and highways, bridges, tunnels, electricity networks, oil pipelines, gas pipelines, fiber-optic lines, terminals and supporting infrastructure.

The company will be able to collect fees for access, commercial activity, leasing and services. Armenia retains sovereignty and control over its borders and customs — something that is explicitly emphasized.

Yet the economic meaning of the arrangement is obvious: a company with a controlling American stake appears at one of the key bottlenecks of the Eurasian transport system.

China may build the Silk Road across thousands of kilometers. Kazakhstan and Azerbaijan may develop the Middle Corridor. Turkey may connect it to its own transport network. Europe may wait for the cargo.

But one of the critical links in that chain now carries the name of an American president, an American controlling stake and, no less importantly, the potential ability at some point to block or restrict the flow — for example, if the partners suddenly decide they would like to discuss a fairer distribution of the profits.

Not a bad peace dividend.

The War for the Strait

Then came Iran and turned the entire concept into political satire.

The US-Israeli war against Iran began with talk of the nuclear program, missile capabilities, regional proxies and the need to eliminate threats to America’s allies.

Six months passed.

According to Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, US military spending had already reached $37.5 billion by July 21, while the Pentagon requested tens of billions of dollars in additional funding.

At the same time, the strategic objectives increasingly shifted toward the question of who controls the Strait of Hormuz — the waterway through which roughly one-fifth of the world’s oil passed before the war.

Six months later, Hormuz had become one of the central issues in American policy toward the war.

Whose Hormuz?

From there, the situation becomes almost comical.

In early August, mediators were discussing a temporary arrangement for reopening the strait, one that could have satisfied some of Tehran’s demands and given Iran more formal control over shipping than it had before the war.

In other words, a war launched partly to limit Iran’s capabilities could theoretically have ended by formalizing a new Iranian role in the region’s main oil artery.

But a few days later, Trump decided that this was not enough.

He announced that the strait was already under the complete control of the United States.

Then he wrote: “I THINK WE WILL KEEP IT.”

He subsequently began discussing the possibility of making the Strait of Hormuz American territory.

On August 28, the White House issued a separate statement under the magnificent headline: “President Trump Was Right: America Controls the Strait of Hormuz.”

It stated that nearly 1,500 commercial vessels carrying 750 million barrels of oil had passed under American protection.

And the original dispute over Iran’s nuclear program gradually turned into an entirely different story: who exactly would keep a hand on the valve through which the world’s oil flows.

The Price of Peace in Dividends

And so a new foreign-policy formula gradually emerges.

Saudi Arabia and the Gulf monarchies pay for security through orders and investments. Ukraine offers future resource revenues. Peace in the South Caucasus comes with an American transport company for decades. War with Iran unexpectedly leads to discussions about control of the Strait of Hormuz.

It is not necessary to regard every one of these cases as a secret conspiracy or a plan prepared in advance.

It is enough to notice the pattern: Trump constantly seeks to turn a political outcome into an economic asset.

If America provides security, it would be good to get a contract. If it helps broker peace, it would be good to get a project. If it ends a war, preferably there should be oil, gas, minerals, a port, a road or at least a very long concession nearby.

The Year’s Biggest Trophy!

But all these stories pale beside what happened with Venezuela.

There is no need to search for complicated analogies or calculate indirect benefits there. Following the US military operation, the capture of Nicolás Maduro and the change in the country’s de facto leadership, Washington gained the opportunity to discuss not individual contracts or a share of future budget revenues, but 65 billion barrels of oil and development rights lasting 100 years.

If a modern form of war reparations exists, this is where it begins to take on almost classical contours.

Only instead of a victorious general with a sword, oil executives, bankers and lawyers arrived at the defeated side.

More on this in our next article.