WASHINGTON, D.C.—Anti-war Democrats including Senator Bernie Sanders are furious that President Trump wants to end two wars. The unexpected peace push, shrouded in vague diplomatic handwaves toward unspecified regions, has been denounced as a direct assault on a faction that thrives on having a cause to shout about.

“We’ve been fighting the war machine for decades,” said Sanders, the Vermont senator and self-styled progressive icon, waving a finger weathered from years of pointing at billionaires. “I’ve marched against Vietnam, Iraq, you name it—my mittens are still stained from the tear gas. And now Trump thinks he can just end these wars? This is a slap in the face to the 99% who’ve been chanting for peace since before he knew what a draft deferment was.”

Trump’s plan, light on details but heavy on bravado, involves “talks with some countries, great countries” and a pledge to “bring the boys home, very fast, very terrific.” The ambiguity hasn’t softened the blow for anti-war Democrats, who see the move as a theft of their signature issue. “He’s co-opting our whole vibe,” said Melinda Grayson, a 47-year-old organizer with Peace Now or Else, clutching a faded “Bernie 2016” pin. “What am I supposed to do with my ‘No More Wars’ placards now—turn them into compost bins? I’m not ready for that level of Zen.”

The backlash has exposed a rare fissure in the movement’s unity. “Bernie’s right—this isn’t fair,” fumed Ethan Voss, a part-time barista and full-time pacifist who credits Sanders’ rallies for his political awakening. “I’ve got a whole aesthetic built around anti-war vibes, and Trump’s out here peacocking like he invented diplomacy. It’s cultural appropriation, plain and simple.”

Not everyone is fully on board with the outrage. Some activists privately wrestling with the contradiction of opposing peace conceded it’s a tough sell. “I hate war as much as Bernie does,” said Priya Shankar, a conflict studies grad and rally regular. “But if Trump pulls this off, I can’t exactly cheerlead for more bombing just to spite him. Still, it’d feel better if it were one of us—like, say, a certain senator from Vermont—making it happen.”

Analysts point to a deeper identity crisis. “The anti-war left, with Sanders as its grizzled mascot, has defined itself by resistance,” said Dr. Harold Kline, a political science professor at Georgetown. “Trump delivering their keynote promise is like finding out your co-op’s kale supplier is a corporate shill. It’s a gut punch.”

Trump shrugged off the criticism with trademark swagger. “Bernie and his crew are mad because I’m ending wars they only talked about,” he boasted at a press conference, gesturing at a map with Sharpie-drawn arrows. “I’m the peace guy now—fantastic peace, the best. They had their shot and just yelled a lot.”

As Trump presses forward, Sanders and his anti-war cohort face a conundrum: embrace the outcome and risk redundancy, or reject it and pray for a fresh quagmire to rail against. “We’ll keep fighting,” Sanders vowed, adjusting his glasses. “If he ends these wars, I’ll demand he ends them harder—or at least gives us credit. The revolution doesn’t stop for a photo op.”

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