On the Nobel Peace Prize’s troubling drift

by Dr Mustafa Fetouri

A peace dove flies past a relief of Alfred Nobel after it was released in front of the Nobel Peace Center in Oslo, Norway, on 8 October 2021. [ALI ZARE/NTB/AFP via Getty Images]

When Alfred Bernhard Nobel composed his final will in Paris on 27 November 1895, he committed nearly his entire fortune to a bold and idealistic experiment. He directed that “all of my remaining realisable assets … constitute a fund, the interest on which is to be distributed annually as prizes to those who … during the preceding year, have conferred the greatest benefit to humankind.” While the awards for scientific excellence may appear straightforward — honouring inventions, discoveries, and breakthroughs in various branches of science — the Nobel Peace Prize has over the years become the most controversial. It attracts the sharpest criticism, with many questioning whether the credentials of its recipients truly align with what the man once described as the “merchant of death” had envisioned.

For example, in 1973, former US Secretary of State Henry Kissinger and Vietnamese diplomat Lê Đức Thọ were jointly awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for their work in negotiating the Paris Peace Accords, intended to end the Vietnam War. While Kissinger accepted the award with joy and ceremony, his co-laureate refused it, declaring that no true peace had been achieved. Kissinger — the so-called “peacemaker” — was at the same time secretly involved in the bombardment of Cambodia, a campaign that killed hundreds of thousands of civilians. The choice drew outrage even within the Nobel Committee itself: two members resigned in protest. The American mathematician and satirist Tom Lehrer famously quipped that “political satire became obsolete when Henry Kissinger was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize,” while The New York Times derided the award as the “Nobel War Prize.”

In 2009, Barack Obama was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his “extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples.” However, during his eight years in office, Obama  authorised more drone strikes than any of his predecessors, resulting in the deaths of thousands of civilians. Independent estimates suggest that between 7.27 per cent and 15.47 per cent of those killed in US drone strikes in Pakistan, Yemen, and Somalia from 2009 to 2016 were civilians. Moreover, he led the NATO intervention in Libya in 2011 which, while toppling the government of the late Muammar Gaddafi, plunged the country into prolonged instability and conflict that continues to this day.

Alfred Nobel’s original will clearly stated that the Peace Prize should go to the person who has done “the most or best to advance fellowship among nations, the abolition or reduction of standing armies, and the establishment and promotion of peace congresses.” Over time, however, the Norwegian Nobel Committee has gradually reinterpreted those words, often awarding the prize not for tangible achievements in peace but for gestures, promises, or political symbolism. In doing so, the committee has turned what was once a recognition of concrete peace-building into an instrument of moral or political signalling — sometimes reflecting Western preferences rather than Nobel’s universal ideals. Indeed, over the years, this has given critics more ammunition to attack it as a politically biased award — one that takes sides in contentious debates, rather than remaining objective and fair as Alfred Nobel intended.

This has been a pattern rather than an occasional occurrence. From its early years, the Norwegian Nobel Committee has honoured figures whose actual impact on peace was limited or contested. For example, Woodrow Wilson was awarded the prize in 1919 for his role in founding the League of Nations, yet the US never joined, and his vision largely failed to prevent future wars. More recently, Aung San Suu Kyi was awarded in 1991 for her nonviolent struggle for democracy in Myanmar, yet she later had to appear before the International Criminal Court to defend herself against allegations of complicity in what many view as the genocide and persecution of the Rohingya minority. Such selections have reinforced the perception that the Peace Prize sometimes prioritizes political signalling or alignment with prevailing narratives over measurable contributions to international harmony. Consequently, the award’s credibility has been repeatedly questioned, fuelling debates over whether it still reflects Nobel’s original vision or has become a tool for legitimizing certain political agendas.

A case in point is the 2025 Nobel Peace Prize, awarded to María Corina Machado, a Venezuelan opposition leader. She is presented as a promoter of democratic rights and struggler to achieve a just and peaceful transition from dictatorship to democracy. The Nobel Committee stated that Machado received the award “first and foremost for her efforts to advance democracy in Venezuela.” However, a closer examination of the Committee’s statement and Machado’s political history reveals significant contradictions with Nobel’s principles as outlined in his will. Critics note that Machado’s support for foreign intervention in Venezuela and her ties to right-wing figures like Donald Trump raise questions about the award’s alignment with Nobel’s original vision. Moreover, she represents only a section of Venezuelan society, leading a political faction in what is essentially an internal struggle over power and governance. In light of this, she is not a unifying figure but a divisive one, and there is no guarantee of how she would act if in power, or what safeguards might prevent her from becoming similar to the incumbent president, who is widely accused of authoritarianism.

Furthermore, given the internal political dynamics of Venezuela, Machado could potentially escalate tensions, especially with support from foreign backers, including the United States. Many observers view her more as a potential warmaker than a peacemaker, a scenario made more plausible by the Nobel Committee’s decision to award her the prize. Winning the award also exposes a blatant bias by the Committee, with little regard for the possible consequences of such a choice. Compared to former laureates like Nelson Mandela and Mother Teresa, Machado stands out as one of the more controversial figures in the history of the Nobel Peace Prize.

Clearly, the Nobel Peace Prize has lost much of its nobility over the years undermining Alfred Nobel’s original vision. The 2025 prize to María Corina Machado exemplifies this drift, highlighting how the Committee can inadvertently empower divisive figures and signal foreign political alignments, rather than promoting genuine reconciliation or the reduction of conflict. If the Peace Prize is to retain credibility and honour Nobel’s intent, the Committee must return to its foundational principles: recognising measurable, inclusive, and verifiable efforts to foster international fellowship and reduce armed conflict, rather than rewarding political narratives or symbolic gestures. If Nobel were to return today, he would likely not recognise how his will has been interpreted over the years and might well demand the prize be reclaimed from at least two dozen past laureates. At this rate, it would hardly be surprising if, sometime in the future, a figure like Benjamin Netanyahu—who is wanted by the ICC for alleged war crimes in Gaza—were to receive the award.