Alfred Nobel invented dynamite and with his Prize, wagered that ideas, institutions, and courage could restrain the very violence his own work had amplified.Tom Little/Reuters

Lloyd Axworthy is a former foreign minister, chair emeritus of the World Refugee and Migration Council, and the author of books including his memoir, My Life In Politics. He was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1997.

When Alfred Nobel drafted his will in 1895, he gave his Peace Prize a deceptively simple mandate: to honour those who had done the most to advance fraternity among nations, reduce standing armies, and promote peace through co-operation and dialogue. Nobel was no romantic: He was an industrialist who invented dynamite and amassed a fortune from armaments, and he understood intimately the destructive power of the modern age. His bequest was, in part, a profound act of contrition, and a wager that ideas, institutions, and sheer human courage could restrain the very violence his own work had amplified.

For much of the century that followed, this wager seemed to hold. The prize became a beacon: a strategic, forward-looking instrument of ethical encouragement. It has sought to protect fragile diplomatic openings in world politics, embolden isolated reformers and to lend a legitimizing hand to the radical idea that security can be built on something other than fear and force. At its best, it functions as essential moral infrastructure: It has affirmed the legitimacy of dissidents like Andrei Sakharov, Aung San Suu Kyi, and Liu Xiaobo, and helped isolate their oppressors. It has provided crucial external support to perilous peace processes in Northern Ireland and Colombia. It has recognized that building institutions, from Pearsonian peacekeeping to the International Campaign to Ban Landmines, is itself a profound act of peacemaking.

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Today, however, Nobel’s wager is in crisis.

Each autumn, the announcement of the latest laureate is now met with a familiar, weary skepticism about recipients who might sit uneasily with Nobel’s original vision. Honouring Henry Kissinger in 1973, even as the carnage of the Vietnam War and the secret bombing of Cambodia continued, was seen by many as a grotesque validation of realpolitik over peace. The recognition of Yasser Arafat in 1994, though intended to bolster the Oslo Accords, rewarded a figure with a deeply ambiguous legacy of violence. More recently, giving the 2019 prize to Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed, who plunged his country into a devastating civil war just one year later, stands as a stark reminder of the perils of premature celebration. These are not mere errors........

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