هذا التقرير متاح أيضًا بـ العربية
In September 2023, Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman spoke confidently of the kingdom moving “every day” closer to a historic US-brokered agreement with “Israel.” The terms seemed almost settled: a defence treaty with Washington, a civilian nuclear programme and little more than promises to the Palestinians, in exchange for Saudi recognition. The deal would mark the culmination of the process begun by the “Abraham Accords” and give them the Islamic standing they lacked.
A few weeks later, the events of 7 October swept those plans aside. The war on Gaza, followed by the US-Israeli war on Iran that began in February 2026, forced Riyadh to reassess its regional strategy. For years, the kingdom had relied exclusively on US protection and treated normalisation as a means of securing it. It emerged from the two wars with a different doctrine: hedging its bets, balancing relations with competing powers and building regional alliances to protect its strategic interests from shifts in Washington’s policy and Tel Aviv’s military adventurism.
The rising public and political cost of normalisation
Saudi Arabia’s pragmatic case for rapid normalisation rested on an implicit assumption: the Palestinian cause could no longer mobilise public opinion, and younger Saudis, preoccupied with Vision 2030 projects, no longer cared about events in Gaza and the West Bank.
Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza shattered that assumption. Images of widespread destruction and starvation, alongside casualty figures exceeding those of the region’s previous conflicts, revived concern for Palestine across Arab societies, including Saudi Arabia, and even in the West, with an intensity that entire generations had never witnessed. The term “genocide” became prominent in international forums, courtrooms and US and European media. Arab leaders could no longer shake hands with those implicated without seriously damaging their domestic standing.
For Saudi Arabia, the cost extends beyond public opinion. The kingdom derives a substantial part of its legitimacy from its custodianship of the Two Holy Mosques and its standing in the Islamic world. Drawing closer to an Israeli government deeply implicated in genocide and crimes against humanity, whose ministers openly advocate displacement and changes to the status quo at Al-Aqsa Mosque, would undermine that religious and political standing. It would also hand an advantage to Riyadh’s regional rivals, who are waiting for any opportunity to damage its image.
This explains the most significant change in official Saudi rhetoric. Promises to improve Palestinian lives or offer a vague route to statehood were no longer sufficient. A credible, irreversible path to an independent Palestinian state on the 1967 borders, with East Jerusalem as its capital, became a precondition for recognition.
Foreign Minister Prince Faisal bin Farhan reiterated that position in New York a few days ago, stressing the need to translate international consensus on the two-state solution into practical steps to ensure its implementation. The condition helps Riyadh resist repeated US pressure and incentives. It sets a requirement the current Israeli government cannot meet while allowing Saudi Arabia to avoid explicitly rejecting Washington’s proposals. Riyadh can maintain that recognition remains possible, provided the occupying state meets its conditions.
A weakened Iran undermines the case for an alliance
For years, fear of Iran was the strongest argument for normalisation. An alliance with “Israel” was presented as a security necessity to deter Tehran and its proxies across the frontline states, rather than a choice driven by sentiment. Events since 2024 have overturned that calculation.
Successive strikes weakened Hezbollah’s military structure in Lebanon, depriving it of its longstanding leadership and much of its arsenal. The fall of the Assad regime in Syria severed the land corridor connecting Tehran to the Mediterranean. The subsequent US-Israeli war on Iran killed Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and dozens of military commanders, leaving the axis of resistance at its weakest in decades.
Iran’s response did reach Saudi territory. Riyadh condemned attacks on the Riyadh region and the Eastern Province, saying it had informed Tehran that it would not allow Saudi airspace or territory to be used to launch attacks against Iran. The war exposed the Gulf’s vulnerability to missiles and drones, but also showed that Iran could no longer dictate the course of events in the region. As the strategic threat from Iran receded, the strongest argument for a security alliance with “Israel” lost its force. Why should Riyadh pay the high price of normalisation to deter an adversary less capable of threatening it than before?
The kingdom used the resulting vacuum to expand its diplomatic influence, beginning with Syria. Since Assad’s fall, Riyadh has moved rapidly. It was the first capital President Ahmed al-Sharaa visited. Together with Doha, it paid Damascus’ arrears to the World Bank, then pressed Washington to lift sanctions until President Trump announced their removal during his visit to Riyadh. Economic agreements followed in energy, telecommunications and other sectors, including an agreement to establish a joint airline. Syria’s economy minister estimated Saudi investment in the country at more than $20 billion.
These commitments represent a political investment in a strategically sensitive country as well as economic support. After serving for two decades as Iran’s corridor to the Mediterranean, Syria could now strengthen the Arab states’ strategic position and permanently close that route to Tehran. It could also act as a barrier to Israeli encroachment in southern Syria, which Riyadh views as an attempt to establish new realities along the borders of a weakened Arab state. Saudi Arabia wants the new government in Damascus to become an active partner in the regional order it seeks to build, rather than leave Syria open to influence from Tehran, Tel Aviv or even its new ally, Ankara.
At the same time, Riyadh has maintained its commitment to the Beijing agreement with Tehran, at least in its public statements. About three months before the war, the Saudi-Iranian-Chinese trilateral committee met in Tehran to review implementation of the agreement. Even at the height of Iran’s attacks, Saudi statements continued to cite the deal and describe the assaults as a clear violation of it. Tehran, in turn, stressed that communication with Riyadh remained open and that it was still committed to the agreement.
Both countries need to preserve that commitment. A weakened Tehran wants to avoid facing another hostile front in the Gulf while fighting Washington and Tel Aviv. Riyadh wants a channel through which it can contain escalation, give China a role as guarantor in Gulf security and gain greater freedom to manoeuvre in its dealings with Washington and Tel Aviv. The Beijing agreement therefore provides a framework for managing their rivalry rather than ending it.
Saudi concerns over Israel’s military operations
While successive blows have forced Iran onto the defensive, “Israel” has emerged from its wars with a very different approach. It has acted as though its military power faces no limits, striking Lebanon, Syria, Yemen and Iran. In September 2025, it extended its operations to Doha, targeting Hamas leaders in the heart of a Gulf capital allied with Washington. For Gulf capitals, the attack demonstrated that none was immune and that US guarantees could not prevent Israel from striking deep inside Arab countries.
Riyadh’s growing concern reflects its direct interests as well as political solidarity. Vision 2030 depends on stability, investment, tourism and the construction of new cities along the Red Sea coast. Every Israeli military operation that provokes an Iranian or Houthi response puts those projects at risk. The 2026 war demonstrated this when the Houthis announced the resumption of attacks in the Red Sea and imposed a blockade on Saudi tankers and ships. The kingdom found itself intercepting drones over its oil facilities during a war it had not chosen and had played no part in deciding to launch.
Another source of Saudi concern has received less attention. In December 2025, “Israel” officially recognised the breakaway region of “Somaliland,” alarming Riyadh. The move opened the way for increased military and intelligence activity.
Somali and European officials later reported that “Israel” had established an intelligence presence in Berbera. Other reports indicated that the region had provided Israel with a secret military site during the Iran war, allowing its aircraft to refuel on long-range missions. Authorities in Hargeisa repeatedly denied that an Israeli base existed. However, the region’s president openly expressed his desire to expand security cooperation in the future, amid reports of continuing military construction around Berbera airport.
Riyadh is further concerned that this activity is taking place on territory managed by the UAE, which is widely believed to have helped facilitate Israeli recognition. Here, Saudi concerns about “Israel” overlap with tensions with Abu Dhabi. Riyadh views Berbera as a staging point for operations, surveillance and intelligence: it overlooks the Gulf of Aden, commands the Bab el-Mandeb Strait and lies close to Saudi shores. The threat extends beyond maritime security to the East-West pipeline, which became Saudi Arabia’s most important oil export route during the Iran war, allowing it to bypass the closed Strait of Hormuz.
Riyadh responded in February 2026 by signing a military cooperation agreement with Somalia. The agreement signalled that the kingdom would not leave the western shore of the Red Sea open to the Tel Aviv-Abu Dhabi axis, and that preserving Somalia’s territorial unity had become part of its national security strategy.
Diversifying security guarantees
These concerns have prompted a significant shift in Saudi defence arrangements. After decades of relying on US protection, the kingdom began building other security partnerships. The first step was a joint strategic defence agreement with Pakistan in September 2025. A broader agreement followed on 7 August 2026, when the Saudi crown prince, Turkish president and Pakistani prime minister signed the “Mecca Joint Defense Agreement,” which stipulates that an armed attack on any of the three countries constitutes an attack on all three. The signing took place at Al-Safa Palace in Mecca.
The choice of Mecca signalled an effort to reclaim the kingdom’s standing in the Islamic world at a pivotal moment. The alliance’s composition also has a clear strategic logic. It brings together financial resources and a prominent position in global energy markets, an advanced defence industry, and a large army with extensive operational experience backed by a nuclear arsenal. It is the first collective security framework to unite Arab and non-Arab states since the Baghdad Pact of 1955. This time, however, regional states are driving it rather than a superpower sponsoring it.
The alliance quickly began establishing its institutions. The three countries agreed to create a general secretariat in Saudi Arabia, initially led by a Pakistani secretary-general for three years. Ankara announced that other countries could join with the approval of all three members. For now, the alliance provides an additional layer of protection rather than an alternative to Washington. It makes the kingdom less dependent on decisions in the White House and gives it more options when negotiating with the US.
Riyadh has pursued a similar strategy in diplomacy through the “International Alliance for the Implementation of the Two-State Solution“, which it launched in September 2024 and co-chairs with the European Union and Norway. The alliance has become a broad international forum: representatives of 83 countries and organisations attended its ninth meeting in Brussels.
It serves two purposes. First, it breaks Washington’s historic monopoly on mediation in the conflict by bringing in partners from Europe, Asia and the Islamic world. Second, it isolates Israel internationally over its intransigence, turning the two-state solution from a tired slogan into a working framework with institutions and regular meetings.
A new doctrine takes shape
Saudi Arabia’s likely course over the coming months is becoming clear. It is expected to continue strengthening the Mecca alliance with its two partners and may seek to expand its membership. After an emergency meeting in Riyadh on Monday, 5 October, the three states announced the “immediate start of implementing joint defense commitments, providing military forces and capabilities, and rapidly deploying them in Saudi Arabia”. That announcement points clearly towards closer military cooperation.
The kingdom may also continue building multilateral partnerships across Europe and Asia while maintaining its relationship with Washington. Arms contracts and long-term agreements bind it to the US, despite its frustration with Trump’s recent positions on the Houthis. Normalisation will remain on hold because Riyadh has set conditions that the current “Israel” cannot meet, while leaving open the possibility of an agreement.
This doctrine carries risks. The war on Iran has not ended, and renewed escalation remains possible at any moment despite the relative stalemate. The Houthis can still threaten Saudi security and fuel conflict in the Red Sea. Balancing relations with competing powers also requires Riyadh to manage tensions between Ankara and Abu Dhabi, between Beijing and Washington, and between its security needs and development ambitions. A miscalculation could leave the kingdom caught between blocs, none of which fully trusts it.
The limits of Saudi independence remain unresolved. The kingdom still relies on US weapons for its principal military equipment and air defences. The Mecca alliance is still building its institutions, and the procedures for putting its commitments into operation remain unclear. Saudi Arabia’s strategy therefore appears to be one of diversifying its security guarantees rather than replacing them. By spreading risk across several partnerships, it seeks to prevent a decline in US commitment from creating a potentially fatal security vacuum.
Saudi Arabia has nevertheless emerged from the Gaza and Iran wars with a more developed doctrine than it had before them. It no longer expects a single grand bargain to resolve all its security problems. Nor does it offer normalisation in return for US promises that may change with each administration. Instead, it has moved from using normalisation as a bargaining tool towards building a network of regional political and military alliances to protect its strategic interests from north to south, against both shifts in US policy and the Israeli government’s military adventurism.