Making peace or just following patterns?: Trump’s peace gamble in the shadow of history
From the trenches of World War I to modern proxy wars, the conflicts either ended in victory, exhaustion, or uneasy truces. Trump’s ambitious gamble to secure a ceasefire in Ukraine may follow a similar pattern

In February 2022, the world woke to the thunder of war in Europe, as Russian forces crossed into Ukraine. Cities that were once filled with life were shaken by missile strikes, and millions of civilians suddenly found themselves fleeing their homes.
"We went to sleep in peace and woke up in war," President Volodymyr Zelensky said in those first chaotic days. But what began as a shock soon hardened into a long and grinding conflict, one that continues to redraw the map of global politics.
But it showed how wars, no matter how bitter, eventually end either through victory or through negotiation.
Throughout history, wars have concluded in two ways: by one side prevailing, or by adversaries being forced into a ceasefire. In both cases, the human cost has been extraordinary, but the conditions of peace often hinged on third-party mediation or pressure.
Many of the great wars of the 20th century ended decisively. The Russian Civil War (1917–1922) saw the Bolsheviks' Red Army crush the White factions, reshaping Russia into the Soviet Union. The Chinese Civil War (1927–1950) concluded with Mao Zedong's communists victorious on the mainland, while the defeated Nationalists retreated to Taiwan. Spain's Civil War (1936–1939) produced General Francisco Franco's long dictatorship.
Other conflicts produced more sweeping outcomes. World War II (1939–1945) claimed an estimated 70 million to 85 million lives before the Allies secured total victory, collapsing fascist regimes in Germany, Italy, and Japan. The Bangladesh Liberation War in 1971 was similarly decisive and lasted for nine months; it ended with Pakistan's defeat and the birth of Bangladesh.
Trump's gambit taps into a truth: eventually, this war, like every war, must end. The question is whether it ends through Ukrainian victory, Russian endurance, or external mediation leading to a compromise.
But wars are rarely so final. More often than not, exhausted adversaries have had to accept a truce that resolved little, if anything. Wars inflict deep economic damage, displaces millions, and causes immense human suffering and casualties, regardless of whether it ends through a ceasefire or outright victory.
The art of ceasefire
The Korean War (1950–1953) illustrates this well. After three years of fighting and millions of deaths, neither North nor South Korea prevailed. Instead, they signed an armistice, an uneasy truce that still defines the peninsula, with barbed wire and watchtowers along the 38th parallel.
The Vietnam War (1955–1975) was similarly shaped by negotiation. The US withdrew under the Paris Peace Accords, only for North Vietnamese forces to overrun the South two years later. In the First Gulf War (1990–1991), Saddam Hussein's forces were driven from Kuwait, but the war formally ended in a UN-brokered ceasefire, not a final settlement.
Ceasefires, however fragile, have often been secured with help from outsiders. International diplomacy has frequently intervened when combatants could not agree. Historian Margaret MacMillan shed light on this in a podcast of "The Hub Canada" and said, "Wars may be fought by nations, but peace is almost always brokered by someone else."
Mediators and peacemakers
Over the decades, individuals have gained recognition for helping stop wars. Henry Kissinger, controversial though he remains, was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1973 for his role in negotiating the Paris Peace Accords on Vietnam.
In 1994, Yasser Arafat, Yitzhak Rabin, and Shimon Peres shared the prize for the Oslo Accords, which sought peace between Israelis and Palestinians.
Former US President Jimmy Carter was honoured in 2002 for his lifelong mediation work, including his role in brokering the 1978 Camp David Accords between Egypt and Israel.
"Negotiated peace is never perfect, but it is always better than the alternative," Carter once said in his speech. His words ring true when looking at conflicts from Afghanistan to the Middle East, where ceasefires have at times paused but rarely ended the bloodshed.
The Soviet–Afghan War (1979–1989) ended not with victory but with withdrawal. After years of US-backed resistance, the Soviet Union was forced to pull out, leaving Afghanistan fractured.
Similarly, today's Syrian Civil War, which kicked off in 2011, has seen countless mediation attempts, but no conclusive peace, though the Assad regime has been defeated. The same can be said for the Gaza conflict of 2023, where international calls for a ceasefire continue to compete with the grim reality of daily bombardment.
War and ceasefire
Scholars often note that how wars end is as consequential as why they start. Swiss-American political scientist and defence expert Fred Ikle wrote in his book 'Every War Must End' that "the end of war is more important than the conduct of war itself" because settlements determine the peace that follows.
In contrast, strategist Edward Luttwak wrote that "premature ceasefires" often freeze conflicts without solving them, creating conditions for later violence.
Both points seem borne out in history. The end of World War I left Germany humiliated, sowing the seeds for World War II. The unresolved stalemate in Korea hardened into one of the world's most dangerous flashpoints. Even seemingly decisive wars, like Vietnam or Iraq, created long shadows of instability.
Trump's gamble
This brings us to today. US President Donald Trump has repeatedly claimed he could broker a ceasefire between Russia and Ukraine. His insistence has raised eyebrows, not least because he has also hinted that such a deal could make him worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize.
Trump's aspirations can be seen in light of history's long tradition of leaders seeking prestige through peacemaking. But critics argue that a hasty settlement risks freezing Russia's occupation of Ukrainian territory, rewarding aggression rather than resolving it.
"A ceasefire is not peace," Luttwak recently remarked in an interview with Fox News. "It may simply be the pause before the next round of war."
Still, Trump's gambit taps into a truth: eventually, this war, like every war, must end. The question is whether it ends through Ukrainian victory, Russian endurance, or external mediation leading to a compromise.
From the trenches of World War I to the streets of Gaza today, history shows us that wars end in silence, whether through the victory of one side or the exhaustion of both. Ceasefires, armistices, and peace treaties have been shaped as much by outsiders as by the combatants themselves.
No matter what one makes of Trump's motives, whether they are rooted in genuine statesmanship, personal ambition, or the lure of a Nobel prize, the hard fact remains that if he manages to end the war, peace will be achieved. And peace, not the politics of how it is reached, is the ultimate goal.