In a world where diplomacy is supposed to be about unity, one man made it all about himself. Donald Trump’s presence at the Gaza summit in Sharm el-Sheikh was nothing short of a spectacle, leaving observers to wonder whether he was there to foster peace or simply to steal the spotlight. But here's where it gets controversial: while some saw his behavior as a refreshing break from political correctness, others viewed it as a cringe-worthy display of ego. And this is the part most people miss—amidst the chaos, there were moments that revealed deeper truths about global leadership and personal dynamics.
The summit, held on Monday, was largely seen as a symbolic gesture rather than a substantive effort to address the Gaza conflict. Yet, all eyes were on Trump, the self-proclaimed master of deal-making, as he interacted with world leaders in his signature style—a mix of flattery, bluntness, and unpredictability. Arriving over two hours late, Trump made no apologies, joking earlier to the Israeli parliament that he feared his wealthy guests might have already left, leaving only representatives from poorer nations behind. But his concerns were unfounded.
First to greet him was Sheikh Mansour bin Zayed Al Nahyan, the vice-president of the United Arab Emirates. Trump, ever the showman, couldn’t resist commenting on Mansour’s “lovely shoes” before quipping, “A lot of cash, bundles of cash.” The remark, though awkward, was met with a polite smile from Mansour, who seemed to take it in stride. But here’s the question: Was Trump’s candor a sign of authenticity, or did it cross the line into insensitivity?
Another leader who caught Trump’s attention was Giorgia Meloni, the Italian prime minister and the only woman at the otherwise male-dominated event. Trump, seemingly unaware of cultural nuances, turned to her and said, “In the United States, it would be the end of your political career. But I’ll take the risk. Do you mind if I say you’re beautiful? Because you truly are beautiful.” The comment, while complimentary, raised eyebrows for its inappropriateness in a diplomatic setting. Contrast this with Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s interaction with Meloni, who told her she looked “great” but added, “But you should not smoke so much.” Is there a right way for leaders to compliment each other, or is this just the nature of global diplomacy?
Trump’s admiration for Erdoğan was palpable. He praised the Turkish leader as a “tough” guy, likening him to a blend of Genghis Khan and Greta Garbo. “Erdoğan possesses one of the strongest armies in the world,” Trump declared. “It is much stronger than it appears. He has triumphed in many conflicts, but he does not want any praise. He wants to be left alone.” Trump’s words painted Erdoğan as a formidable yet misunderstood figure, but they also sparked debate. Are we too quick to glorify strongman leaders, or is there value in their decisive approach?
Egyptian President Abdel Fatah al-Sisi, Trump’s co-host, also received high praise. Despite accusations of widespread repression under Sisi’s government, Trump lauded him as “a strong leader” and a “good general.” He even went on to compare Egypt’s low crime rate favorably to the United States, blaming American state governors for their ineffectiveness. Is this a fair assessment, or is Trump overlooking the human cost of authoritarian rule?
Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, known for his anti-EU stance, was another leader Trump openly admired. “I know a lot of people don’t agree with me, but I am the only one that matters,” Trump declared, a statement that left other leaders, including UK’s Keir Starmer, visibly uncomfortable. Is Trump’s confidence a strength, or does it undermine the collaborative spirit of diplomacy?
Not everyone received such glowing reviews. Iraqi Prime Minister Mohammed Shia’ al-Sudani was dismissed after Trump remarked that Iraq had “so much oil it does not know what to do with it,” framing it as a problem rather than an asset. Meanwhile, Starmer’s moment in the spotlight was brief; after being called on stage, he was quickly thanked and sent back to his seat, a reminder of Trump’s dominance.
French President Emmanuel Macron, known for his strategic positioning in summit photos, surprised Trump by choosing to sit in the audience instead of joining him on stage. “I can’t believe it, you’re taking a low-key approach today,” Trump remarked. “I imagined you standing behind me.” Was Macron making a subtle statement, or was this simply a matter of seating preference?
Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau (note: the original text incorrectly mentions Mark Carney) approached Trump to correct a mistake in his remarks, where Trump had referred to him as “president” instead of “prime minister.” Trump’s response? “You are fortunate I did not call you governor.” Is this playful banter, or does it reveal a lack of respect for protocol?
The one leader who seemed to master the art of handling Trump was Pakistani Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif. By showering Trump with praise, Sharif managed to keep the former president engaged, even as Trump attempted to read his speech, only to be gently pushed back. Sharif’s words were effusive: “India and Pakistan are nuclear powers, and had it not been for his and his wonderful team’s intervention, a devastating war might have erupted. History has immortalised his name in golden letters.” Was this genuine admiration, or a calculated move to win Trump’s favor?
Finally, Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian avoided the summit altogether, perhaps sparing himself the awkward interactions. Was this a wise decision, or did it miss an opportunity for dialogue?
As the summit concluded, one thing was clear: Trump’s presence had overshadowed the event’s intended purpose. But what does this say about the state of global leadership? Is it about substance, or is it all just a performance? We’d love to hear your thoughts—do you think Trump’s approach was effective, or did it detract from the summit’s goals? Let us know in the comments!
