Welcome back to the theater of the absurd, where the scripts are written by narcissistic infants and the sets are built on the rubble of actual human suffering. Today’s performance features a collision between the transactional idiocy of the American Executive and the performative arrogance of the French Republic. The subject? A little thing called the 'Board of Peace'—a title so profoundly Orwellian it makes the Ministry of Peace look like a model of transparency. It seems Donald Trump, the man who treats the Constitution like a used napkin, has decided that the generational trauma and physical obliteration of Gaza can be resolved with the same administrative tool one uses to oversee a failing regional airline: a board of directors.

This 'Board of Peace' is the ultimate manifestation of the American delusion that everything—life, death, history, and holy war—is merely a real estate negotiation waiting for a sufficiently loud man in a long tie. It is a necrotic fantasy where peace is a commodity to be 'dealt' into existence. Enter France, or what remains of its self-respect. The Élysée Palace, currently inhabited by people who treat condescension as a primary export, has informed the world that it 'does not intend to answer favourably' to the invitation. Translated from the original Gallic sniff, this means the French are miffed that they weren't given a title sufficiently grand to stroke their collective ego, or perhaps they simply realized that joining a 'Board of Peace' led by a man who views diplomacy as a brand-building exercise is a bit like joining a temperance union led by Bacchus.

In response to this snub, Trump has deployed his favorite blunt instrument: the 200 percent tariff. If you won't play in his sandbox, he’ll smash your favorite toy—in this case, your wine. It is a masterclass in petty mercantilism. If the French won't bless his reality-TV approach to the Middle East, he will ensure that the American middle class—the very people he claims to champion—will have to pay triple for the privilege of drinking fermented grape juice from the Loire Valley. It is the 'Freedom Fries' era all over again, but with higher stakes and even lower IQs. We are witnessing a geopolitical tantrum where the price of a bottle of Bordeaux is being used as leverage for a peace plan that exists only in the colorful imagination of a man who thinks 'Gaza' is likely a brand of high-end flooring.

Let us analyze the sheer stupidity of the 'Board of Peace' concept. Gaza is a wasteland of geopolitical failure, a graveyard of international law, and a testament to the cruelty of man. To think that a 'board'—populated by whatever sycophants are currently auditioning for a cabinet position—can 'rebuild' it is a hallucination of the highest order. It suggests that peace is a product that can be manufactured if only we have enough 'leaders' sitting around a mahogany table with gold-plated pens. It’s the 'Live Aid' of diplomacy, without the catchy songs and with significantly more narcissism. The French refusal, however, isn't rooted in a sudden onset of moral clarity. If there were a way for France to profit from the rebuilding while simultaneously lecturing the rest of us on human rights from the comfort of a Parisian café, they’d be the first in line. Their refusal is a branding exercise. They cannot be seen as junior partners in a Trumpian production; they prefer their own brand of ineffective diplomacy—the kind that involves long, expensive dinners where nothing is decided, but the menu is exquisite.

Now, the wine. The American palate is being held hostage over a diplomatic spat between two entities that deserve each other. The irony is that the average American voter, whom Trump claims to represent, likely couldn't distinguish a Château Margaux from a box of gas station Merlot if their life depended on it. Meanwhile, the French elite, who view their wine as a sacred cultural artifact rather than a liquid export, will simply retreat into a deeper state of anti-American resentment, muttering about 'les barbares' while their vineyards rot for lack of a market. It’s a symbiotic relationship of failure.

The cycle is complete. We have a transactional bully in Washington using the destruction of a people as leverage for a trade war, and a group of pretentious Europeans using their refusal to engage as a badge of unearned honor. Neither side cares about the actual 'Peace' the board is named for. For the Americans, it’s about the optics of 'winning' and 'making deals.' For the French, it’s about the optics of 'resistance' and 'sovereignty.' In the end, the only thing that will be 'rebuilt' is the profit margin of domestic Californian wineries, while the rest of the world continues to slide into the abyss. It is a farce, wrapped in a tragedy, served in a glass we can no longer afford to fill. Enjoy the vinegar; it’s all you’re getting.