The Peace Summit as Spectacle: How Sharm el-Sheikh Turned Diplomacy into Theatre
When Egypt hosted the “Summit for Peace” in Sharm el-Sheikh this October, the desert air was heavy with anticipation but light on substance. Delegations arrived in polished convoys. Cameras rolled. Declarations were drafted before discussions began. For a brief weekend, the Red Sea resort became the centre of the world’s diplomatic attention, but not its decision-making.
There was no ceasefire breakthrough, no joint plan for Gaza’s reconstruction, and certainly no framework for a political settlement. Yet the summit mattered, not for what it achieved but for what it performed. It was a meticulously choreographed display of image management , a reminder that in today’s Middle East, diplomacy increasingly functions as spectacle.
Egypt’s Stagecraft
The choice of Sharm el-Sheikh was not incidental. Since the 1990s, the city has served as Egypt’s diplomatic showroom. This has been the scene for numerous climate summits, peace conferences and economic forums. For President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, it offered the perfect backdrop: controlled, secure, and symbolically linked to the legacy of ceasefire diplomacy. Egypt, facing economic strain and regional competition from Gulf powers, needed to remind the world that it remains a central mediator in Arab-Israeli affairs.
Hosting the summit allowed Cairo to reclaim visibility without committing to political risks. It projected stability, even as Egypt struggles with inflation and debt. As one Egyptian analyst dryly noted, “Hosting peace is cheaper than achieving it.”
A Constellation of Interests
The guest list spoke volumes about the shifting balance of influence in the region.
As one Egyptian analyst dryly noted, “Hosting peace is cheaper than achieving it.”
Interesting to note was the absence of the de facto ruler of Saudi Arabia, crown prince Mohammed bin Salman. Instead, he chose to send his Foreign Minister, Prince Faisal bin Farhan. The Kingdom’s presence was a message: Saudi Arabia is willing to lead reconstruction and dialogue, but not to inherit Gaza’s political crisis and certainly not to be associated with the crisis as such. Hence the absence of the crown prince.
The United Arab Emirates, represented by Sheikh Mansour bin Zayed, came with a familiar agenda, reconstruction over rhetoric. Abu Dhabi’s role has become that of a post-conflict investor: funding infrastructure, humanitarian corridors, and image-restoring projects, while keeping political distance. Not surprisingly, The United States, under President Donald Trump’s renewed leadership, sought to reassert global authority. Yet his participation was largely symbolic, aimed at showcasing a “deal-making” image rather than initiating negotiations, whilst also portraying the president as a peacemaker.
Türkiye and its president Recep Tayip Erdogan – a longtime supporter of Hamas, was there too, and got a personal greeting from Donald Trump, referring to mr. Erdogan as a tough guy and a great friend, which apparently seemed to please the Turkish president.
European countries such as Norway, Italy and the Netherlands were present too.
Supposedly, the most surprising feature of the summit was the presence of FIFAs president Infantino.
The FIFA Moment
The FIFA president’s appearance at a peace summit seemed absurd at first glance. Yet it captured the summit’s essence better than any communiqué. President Infantino, standing beside Trump and Sisi, declared that “football can rebuild communities and bring hope where it is most needed.” He pledged FIFA’s support for reconstructing Gaza’s sports facilities and for “using football as a tool for peace.”
To critics, it was opportunistic PR. It does however, point to a new dogma: diplomacy today is not confined to states. It has migrated into the domains of sport, culture, and spectacle. Infantino’s presence transformed the summit from a political gathering into a hybrid media event — one where humanitarianism, branding, and geopolitics intertwined. It was soft power in its purest, most commercial form.
Performative Diplomacy
No binding resolution emerged from Sharm el-Sheikh. There was, however, a joint declaration calling for humanitarian access to Gaza, a proposal for a “Gaza Recovery Fund,” and the announcement of upcoming technical talks. The language was careful, full of verbs like “facilitate,” “coordinate,” and “support” but devoid of any actual enforcement.
And yet, to dismiss the summit as hollow would be to miss its political function. It was a performance of order. Every photo, every handshake, every press release was designed to convey one message: that regional actors, despite deep disagreements, are capable of managing chaos together.
The Middle East, long viewed as the theatre of crisis, now exports its own theatre of control. These events reassure investors, donors, and global audiences that the system, however strained, still works.
This is the epitome of diplomacy’s new mode: transactional, symbolic, and strategically photogenic.
For Saudi Arabia and the UAE, the summit offered another opportunity to solidify their image as architects of post-conflict pragmatism.
Riyadh’s recent diplomacy, from détente with Iran to coordination with China and the U.S., reflects an ambition to be seen not merely as an oil power, but as a responsible global stakeholder.
Abu Dhabi, meanwhile, has perfected the art of “visibility without vulnerability”, always participating in every major peace effort while remaining detached from its political costs.
The summit’s success, therefore, cannot be measured in outcomes but in optics
Their participation in Sharm el-Sheikh echoed what I have described in earlier analysis as the post-ideological turn of Gulf foreign policy. The ideological divides that once defined the region: Islamism versus secularism, revolution versus monarchy. This have given way to a new kind of transactional logic: stability as strategy, branding as diplomacy.
For Washington, this summit was the perfect setting to once again set the scene for the president as a peacemaker in the Middle East. But its presence was performative rather than strategic. Trump’s delegation emphasized humanitarian coordination, avoiding the thornier question of accountability. It was diplomacy in the language of logistics, not justice.
Egypt, for its part, played its traditional role: the indispensable host. Yet beneath the smiles and statements lay a clear calculation. Cairo sought to translate visibility into leverage — both in Washington and in Gulf capitals — as it negotiates new aid packages and investment commitments. Sharm el-Sheikh was thus not only a peace summit; it was a funding summit in disguise.
Symbolism over Substance
The inclusion of the FIFA president symbolized a larger trend: the merging of politics, performance, and soft power.
In earlier eras, peace conferences were arenas of negotiation. Today, they are arenas of narrative. Each actor performs their desired identity. The U.S. as indispensable mediator, Egypt as regional stabilizer, the Gulf as post-oil modernizers, and FIFA as global humanitarian patron.
The summit’s success, therefore, cannot be measured in outcomes but in optics. Its photographs circulated widely. Its speeches trended briefly. And that may have been enough, for the time being.
What unfolded in Sharm el-Sheikh represents a broader shift in international relations: from policy-driven diplomacy to image-driven diplomacy.
Where once peace talks sought to change realities, today they often aim merely to shape perceptions. The new art of statecraft lies not in resolving crises but in staging them convincingly.
This does not mean such summits are meaningless. Symbolism, after all, has power. It can open channels, delay escalation, or soften public sentiment. But symbolism is also seductive. The danger is that the appearance of engagement replaces the substance of action. The question therefore lingers, where does this leave the Palestinians?