Why Three Southeast Asian Nations Joined Trump's Peace Board

More than 20 world leaders gather in Washington today for the inaugural meeting of Donald Trump's Board of Peace. While the summit promises to announce over $5 billion in pledges for Gaza's reconstruction, the real story lies in who showed up—and who stayed away.

From Southeast Asia, only three leaders made the trip: Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto, Vietnamese Communist Party chief To Lam, and Cambodian Prime Minister Hun Manet. Notably absent are Thailand and the Philippines, both U.S. treaty allies, along with Singapore and Malaysia, key American partners in the region.

This selective participation reveals how each nation interprets Trump's new diplomatic platform and whether they buy into his view that the postwar rules-based order is crumbling.

The Economic Pragmatists

For Indonesia and Vietnam, the calculation is largely economic. Both countries are deep in trade negotiations with Washington, seeking to stabilize relationships crucial to their growth ambitions.

Prabowo arrived with his energy, economic affairs, and investment ministers in tow—a clear signal that business tops the agenda. Indonesia hopes to finalize a reciprocal tariff agreement that's been months in the making. But there's a deeper game at play: Indonesia has pledged up to 8,000 troops for Gaza's International Stabilization Force, with 1,000 deploying by April.

This military commitment is remarkable given Indonesia's overwhelmingly pro-Palestinian domestic sentiment. Prabowo's willingness to risk domestic backlash suggests serious diplomatic ambitions—positioning Indonesia as a major player in Middle East peace efforts.

Vietnam's motivations are more straightforward. Despite facing a 20% tariff, Vietnam's trade surplus with the U.S. hit a record $134 billion in 2025. The sticking point in negotiations? How to define and identify transshipped Chinese goods that Washington claims artificially inflate Vietnam's surplus.

For Vietnam, where U.S. trade matters far more to the economy than it does for Indonesia, To Lam's participation represents a pragmatic bet on breaking the tariff deadlock.

Cambodia's Border Gambit

Cambodia's participation reflects a different calculation entirely. Having already secured a trade deal with the U.S., Hun Manet sees the Board of Peace as a platform to internationalize his border dispute with Thailand.

Relations with Washington have warmed considerably since Trump helped broker a ceasefire in December's fierce border fighting. Well-timed flattery—including a Nobel Peace Prize nomination for Trump—helped Cambodia, previously viewed as a Chinese client state, secure a relatively lenient 19% tariff.

Now Hun Manet is leveraging this goodwill, accusing Thailand of occupying Cambodian territory "deep into" areas "beyond Thailand's formal claims." He hopes the Board of Peace might help de-escalate what he calls a "fragile" situation despite the ceasefire.

The Strategic Holdouts

The absence of traditional U.S. allies speaks volumes. Malaysia, Southeast Asia's most vocal Palestinian supporter, has made clear its stance: no support without "genuinely strong and firm guarantees concerning the people of Gaza and Palestine."

Thailand, Singapore, and the Philippines haven't stated their reasons for staying away, but their absence likely reflects regional caution about Trump's unilateralism and fears of undermining institutions that have underpinned the region's prosperity.

As Gregory Poling from the Center for Strategic and International Studies notes, the possibility that the Board of Peace could sideline existing institutions like the U.N. clearly gives Southeast Asian governments pause. "They don't have any interest in a might-makes-right international system," he observes.

Testing the New Order

Trump has hinted that the Board of Peace, widely seen as a U.N. rival, could expand beyond Gaza into other diplomatic areas. This positions it as a potential alternative to multilateral institutions that have governed international relations for decades.

The selective participation from Southeast Asia reveals a region hedging its bets. Some nations see opportunity in Trump's new approach, while others view it as a dangerous departure from proven frameworks.

This divide reflects broader questions about global governance. Are we witnessing the birth of a new diplomatic order, or a temporary deviation that will fade with changing administrations?