The Nirvik Bureau, Bhubaneswar, 11 October 2025
The One That Got Away: Trump and the Elusive Nobel Peace Prize
It began, as most modern political sagas do, with a tweet. Donald J. Trump, the self-described “best dealmaker in history” and “architect of world peace (if the world was lucky),” woke up one fine morning convinced that the Nobel Peace Prize had his name etched on it in golden letters — only to find, to his supreme disbelief, that it had not. What followed was a display of international lobbying, theatrical self-promotion, and pure political performance art worthy of a Netflix miniseries titled Trump: Mission Unpeaceable.
Trump had long believed that the Nobel Committee was just a group of Europeans waiting for one good push (or several golf course invitations) to recognize his “historic peace efforts” — chief among them, the complex saga of his peace talks in the Middle East. “No one’s ever seen peace like this before,” he proudly declared, apparently forgetting that the said peace lasted roughly as long as his press conference.
The Campaign for “Trump the Peacemaker”
When nominations for the Nobel Peace Prize opened, Trump saw an opening broader than a fairway at Mar-a-Lago. He immediately launched what can only be described as a PR blitzkrieg diplomacy tour. Rumor has it that he tried to trademark “Peace Prize – Trump Edition,” complete with a gold-plated dove and a miniature of himself shaking hands with himself.
Not to be outdone by mere diplomacy, Trump began calling world leaders who were, let’s just say, on his Christmas card list. “Vladimir, buddy,” he reportedly said to Putin, “I think they’re finally going to do it! I mean, who’s done more for peace than me?” To which Putin, always ready to enjoy global irony, allegedly replied, “Of course, Donald, you are man of peace — you fight so many wars on Twitter.”
From there, the list of unlikely endorsements grew. A North Korean official was said to have nominated Trump on the grounds that “he has not invaded us — yet.” Even Netanyahu chimed in diplomatically, suggesting, “If there was a prize for peace attempts, he’d be a front runner.”
The Nobel Committee Reacts (Sort Of)
Meanwhile, in Oslo, the Nobel Committee found themselves in a difficult position. How does one diplomatically decline a man who is already declaring victory on social media? Inside sources claim that they received more calls from Washington that week than in any year prior — most of them from Trump’s office offering to “sweeten the deal” with free stays at Trump Tower Oslo (which, notably, does not exist).
When it became clear that the prize was going elsewhere — to an unassuming humanitarian diplomat actually working in a conflict zone — Trump reacted as expected: with a flurry of all-caps tweets. “NOBEL COMMITTEE OBVIOUSLY CORRUPT!!!” one message allegedly read. “EVERYONE SAYING IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME — EVEN PUTIN AGREES! BAD DECISION!!!”
By afternoon, Trump had already organized what he dubbed the “Real Peace Prize Ceremony,” a makeshift press event at Mar-a-Lago featuring a golden globe, several American flags, and a choir singing “We Are the Champions.”
International Drama Ensues
As Trump’s disappointment lit up global headlines, world leaders chimed in with varying degrees of restraint and glee. Putin, playing his part in the geopolitical theatre, publicly “endorsed” Trump’s peaceful spirit, noting that “no one promotes global harmony through chaos quite like Donald.” Even Kim Jong Un was allegedly quoted saying, “I thought peace prize meant different thing.”
The episode took another turn when Trump reportedly called the Nobel laureate to “congratulate — but only slightly.” Details of that call remain sketchy, though unconfirmed reports suggest that Trump spent more time explaining how he would have done peace better. The laureate later described the conversation as “surreal, like being complimented by a reality show host for surviving an audition round.”
Epilogue: The Legend of the Unwon Award
By week’s end, the real Nobel ceremony went on without disruption. Trump, however, remained undeterred. “They’ll come crawling back,” he promised a crowd of loyal supporters. “Next year, maybe two prizes — for all the peace I keep trying to make.”
And so, the Nobel Peace Prize slipped from his grasp — not because he didn’t try, but because he tried too loudly. Still, somewhere in Mar-a-Lago, there’s probably a shelf marked “Reserved for Nobel.” And on that shelf sits a glimmering golf trophy that reads, perhaps a touch optimistically: “World’s Greatest Peacemaker.”
