An exercise in theatrics over substance
The president’s stops in Riyadh, Doha, and Abu Dhabi were an exercise in theatrics over substance, centered around elaborate ceremonies and over-the-top receptions during which Trump gave almost as many compliments as he received. Whatever one thinks of interim Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa, Trump’s description of him as “a young, attractive guy” was extremely unorthodox, if not inappropriate for the occasion. Watching Trump enjoy a succession of enthusiastic greetings from authoritarian leaders while his popularity declines at home was evocative of former President Richard Nixon’s 1974 Middle East trip during the height of the Watergate scandal.
It is not that Trump’s trip was policy-free, but rather that matters of state seemed ancillary to—and designed primarily to enhance—the president’s image. The Trump administration’s success in persuading Hamas to release Edan Alexander, the last American hostage in Gaza, was a welcome achievement. However, the timing of the release—on the eve of Trump’s trip, following months of intermittent efforts—suggests the president was at least as interested in the optics of Alexander’s return as his welfare. Likewise, the decision to lift U.S. sanctions on Syria in response to the requests of Arab leaders was long overdue. Yet while the improvised nature of the meeting is consistent with Trump’s modus operandi, Trump almost certainly appreciated the publicity potential of the meeting with Sharaa in Riyadh following the sanctions announcement.
Even—and perhaps especially—the commercial deals and investment commitments announced during the visit seemed motivated by optical considerations. Trump’s claims that the three Gulf states agreed to invest as much as $4 trillion in the United States, a sum equal to the combined value of their sovereign wealth funds, underscores that these pledges are likely more apparent than real. Previous pledges by Saudi Arabia and other Gulf states have not panned out, and sources in these countries have conceded regional leaders were pressured to include previously concluded deals to inflate the figure. Qatar’s plans to buy up to 210 wide-body Boeing commercial jets are more likely to be realized and benefit American workers, but that deal is the culmination of a longer effort that began during the Biden administration. And of those pledges that do come to fruition, many—such as the UAE’s deal to acquire sophisticated artificial intelligence microchips—raise serious questions with national security implications, as the Center for American Progress has written.
Autocracies over democracies
President Trump’s trip also demonstrated disdain and contempt for democratic governance and human rights. At an investment summit in Riyadh, he decried “Western intervention” in the domestic practices of foreign countries, telling the audience it did not need Westerners “giving you lectures on how to live and how to govern your own affairs.” This is not a new theme from Trump and, to be fair, it is well known that other administrations have often failed to consistently prioritize American values in their foreign policies. Nevertheless, Trump’s criticism is particularly problematic because it conflates democracy promotion with military intervention. Though the efficacy of both these policies can be questioned, treating them as identical reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of democracy. There is a world of difference between invading a country to install a new form of government and encouraging countries to adopt a form of government that empowers their people—not foreign actors—to make decisions about “how to live.”
Moreover, President Trump’s comments on democracy take on a new cast against the backdrop of other developments at home and abroad. Allegations of hypocrisy are practically synonymous with post-World War II U.S. democracy promotion. During Trump’s first term, a leaked 2017 memo from then-Director of Policy Planning Brian Hook to Secretary of State Rex Tillerson said the quiet part out loud: Human rights and democracy are cudgels to use against adversaries, not allies. But the second Trump administration is engaging in a different form of hypocrisy. Instead of selectively criticizing authoritarian regimes, for example, Vice President J.D. Vance, in a speech at the Munich Security Conference, upbraided democratic allies in Europe for different interpretations of free speech while giving a pass to countries that imprison and torture perceived dissidents, circumscribe free association, and plot against citizens in exile.
President Trump’s foreign policy is to deal pragmatically with autocrats not despite their sordid human rights records but in part because of them. His decision to make Saudi Arabia his first official foreign stop in both his presidential terms is surely no coincidence. Trump admires the domestic power exercised by authoritarian leaders—Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, Emirati President Mohammed bin Zayed, and Qatari Amir Tamim fall into this category. At the height of the controversy surrounding Saudi Arabia’s murder of a dissident journalist, Jamal Khashoggi, at the crown prince’s apparent direction in 2018, Trump spoke effusively about Mohammed bin Salman’s “very good control” over Saudi society. By dismantling the federal government, violating due process and ignoring court orders, and openly discussing an unconstitutional third term, Trump’s policies would remake America in the image of foreign dictatorships.
Trouble between the United States and Israel?
One of the most notable aspects of Trump’s trip is that he did not visit Israel. The absence of a stop in Israel, where he traveled immediately after Riyadh in 2017, has fueled rumors of tension in the U.S.-Israel relationship. This comes atop reports that the Trump administration privately blames Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu for the continuation of the war in Gaza and that the United States and Israel disagree on the right approach to Iran’s nuclear program and Syria. The real or perceived lack of coordination between Trump’s and Netanyahu’s administrations on the U.S. decision to suspend strikes on Yemen’s Houthis is further evidence of a looming bilateral crisis between Washington and Jerusalem.
While the decision to skip Israel on this trip was surely not accidental, it is premature to draw any firm conclusions about a shift in Trump’s Israel policy. Contrary to the mythology surrounding Trump’s first term, he did diverge from Israeli preferences on occasion, particularly regarding Syria. Though Trump reversed a 2018 decision to withdraw all U.S. troops from Syria under pressure from his own cabinet and from Israel, he still significantly reduced the American presence there. Israeli officials also reportedly expressed private displeasure with Trump’s decision not to retaliate against Iran for the September 2019 strike against Saudi oil facilities.
It may be that it is not Trump’s underlying preferences regarding Israel that have changed, but rather his need to publicly demonstrate his commitment to Israel. After recognizing Jerusalem as Israel’s capital and moving the U.S. embassy there, as well as mediating the Abraham Accords, Trump likely perceives he has greater latitude to deviate from Israel’s position. He did precisely this even before taking office by pressing Netanyahu to agree to the ceasefire proposal negotiated by the Biden administration. However, this did not presage a change in Trump’s attitude toward Israel. Rather than keeping up the pressure and bringing peace to the Middle East as he pledged, for example, he let Netanyahu off the hook by supporting his decision to break the ceasefire.
A genuine shift in policy toward Israel would require sustained implementation and follow through. If in the ongoing Iran talks Trump ultimately demands a complete dismantlement of Iran’s enrichment program—a reasonable yet likely unobtainable goal—the Israeli prime minister may still secure Trump’s support for a strike on Iran. With U.S. Special Envoy to the Middle East Steve Witkoff labeling enrichment a “red line,” the United States and Iran may have already reached an insoluble impasse.
In Gaza, Israel’s decision to allow humanitarian aid after a two-month siege is encouraging, though Netanyahu only relented to continued U.S. pressure after Trump’s regional visit. However, the amount of aid that has entered Gaza so far is well short of the 600 trucks daily that the United Nations estimates will be required to address humanitarian needs. And the resumption of assistance is no guarantee that a new ceasefire is forthcoming. The basis of current negotiations—the so-called Witkoff proposal—could produce another temporary ceasefire that fails to end the conflict and return all Israeli hostages. And although the Trump administration could coerce concessions from both Israel and Hamas to make diplomatic progress, it may not have the will—or the discipline—to do so.
Conclusion
Whatever President Trump’s Middle East trip achieved, it was also a wasted opportunity to secure major progress on dismantling the Iran nuclear program and resolving the war in Gaza. His administration could still advance diplomatic settlements to both issues, but, as with the Israeli decision to restore aid to Gaza, it will not be because of this visit. Then again, that was probably never Trump’s goal. If there is a moral to this story, it is to refrain from sending a dilettante to do a statesman’s job.