The U.S. president’s mid-may trip Middle East found a region unlike the one he tamed in his first term. His encore performance, though bold, reveals a region slipping from the grasp of his once-potent diplomatic playbook. GCC states are increasingly asserting themselves as they look for harmony.
U.S. President Donald Trump with Saudi Crown Prince and Prime Minister Mohammed Bin Salman in the Royal Palace. From May 13 to 16, 2025, Trump undertook his first major international trip of his second term, visiting Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and the United Arab Emirates.
In a gilded hall at the Saudi-U.S. Investment Forum, U.S. President Donald Trump, now navigating his second term, stood before Gulf leaders and painted a familiar picture: a Middle East bound by prosperity and peace, with Saudi Arabia as the crown jewel under an expanded version of the Abraham Accords.
“I think it will be a tremendous tribute to your country,” he declared, urging the Saudi kingdom to join the 2020 pact, brokered by the United States, that normalized ties between Israel and several Arab states. He hailed the accords as “an absolute bonanza” and envisioned the region as “a thriving commercial, diplomatic, and cultural crossroads.”
Yet, the silence that greeted his call for Saudi recognition of Israel spoke louder than the applause for his $283 billion in economic deals. The Middle East of 2025 is not the one Mr. Trump tamed in his first term, and his encore performance, though bold, reveals a region slipping from the grasp of his once-potent diplomatic playbook.
Since the 1991 Gulf War, the Gulf region has served as a prime illustration of so-called Pax Americana. But the dawn of the 21st century saw the United States undertake a significant effort to reshape the regional order, a strategy that unfolded in two distinct phases. The first, largely spanning the early 2000s and epitomized by the Iraq War, was driven by America’s ambition to remake the entire region, on the assumption that peace would be achieved through democratization. However, “In the end, the so-called nation builders wrecked far more nations than they built,” as Trump put it. Subsequently, from the second decade of the 21st century, U.S. policy pivoted.
The Abraham Accords, Trump’s crowning foreign policy achievement, emerged during this transition, forged in a crucible of shared anxieties and pragmatic aspirations. In 2017, the Riyadh summit of Trump’s first term — a spectacle of anti-terrorism rhetoric and a glowing orb — cemented Washington as the Gulf’s security linchpin while rallying Sunni states against Iran’s “axis of resistance.” The accords, which were signed by the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain and, later, by Morocco and Sudan, turned “fraternal enemies” into wary allies, united by dread of Tehran and lured by economic synergies with Israel’s high-tech economy.
Trump’s strategy was a sharp rebuke of what he called the “disaster” of neoconservative nation-building. He offered instead a transactional Pax Americana — the delegation of regional security responsibilities to U.S. allies in exchange for their strategic alignment with the United States and the security assurances it provided.
But the geopolitical sands have shifted. Gulf Cooperation Council states, once tethered to Washington’s security umbrella, now stride confidently as developmental powerhouses, their sights set on economic diversification and technological leaps. Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, who choreographed Trump’s visit with royal pomp, has committed $600 billion to U.S. investments, with ambitions to reach $1 trillion, signaling a partnership less about deference and more about mutual gain. For Gulf states, the defining priority is no longer predominantly the fight against groups such as Al Qaeda in Iraq. Rather, it is an ambitious drive to invest in and master artificial intelligence — a fundamental shift that unlocks considerable newfound leverage for these oil-rich nations.
As Trump signed deals for data centers and defense contracts, the subtext became clear: The GCC is no longer a junior partner to be told what to do but a co-equal party demanding its share of the bargain.
The glue of anti-Iranian fervor, once a cornerstone of GCC-Israel rapprochement, has also weakened. The 2023 Saudi-Iran rapprochement, brokered by Beijing, reflects a broader Gulf pivot toward de-escalation, influenced by initiatives such as the Beijing Declaration. Where Trump once used the specter of an Iranian menace to unite Gulf states with Israel, his recent call for a nuclear deal with Teheran — contingent on Iran’s halting its sponsorship of terrorism — met a region less animated by that narrative. Gulf capitals, wary of destabilizing conflicts, now view overt Israeli actions against Iran with unease, complicating the once-straightforward alignment.
The Abraham Accords’ economic promise has also dimmed: The Gaza war, sparked by Hamas’s Oct. 7, 2023, attack, has chilled normalization efforts, with Bahrain suspending ties with Israel and Saudi Arabia insisting on a Palestinian state as a prerequisite for recognition. Perhaps most critically, the region’s fault lines have redrawn themselves. GCC states, emulating the developmental zeal of Asia’s Tigers, prioritize stability to fuel mega projects, such as Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030.
Israel under its current leadership is increasingly seen as a wild card, its militaristic posture and territorial ambitions casting it as a potential spoiler of the peace that is essential for regional progress. Israel’s actions, from its devastation of Gaza to its West Bank incursions, now stir apprehension among Gulf leaders attuned to public sentiment.
Trump’s effusive praise for Saudi Arabia’s developmental strides — they “show us something very special,” he said — clash with his administration’s unwavering support for Israel, a position perceived by many as enabling a policy of expansion that threatens the very stability the Gulf craves.
Trump’s Middle East vision, unveiled anew in Riyadh, shows a man who has learned some lessons. His nod to the Iraq war’s failures and his embrace of Gulf-led development reflect a departure from the hubris of past U.S. interventions. Yet, a blind spot persists: his virtually unconditional backing of Israel, which some Gulf observers see as a destabilizing force akin to the nation-building he condemns. This contradiction — “spoiled love,” one might say — undermines Trump’s push to broaden the Abraham Accords. Saudi Arabia’s cautious, non-committal response, coupled with its demand for Palestinian sovereignty, signals a region asserting its own priorities.
The Middle East that Trump encountered during his mid-May trip is one of multipolarity and fierce national ambition. His old playbook, reliant on a singular threat to forge alliances, falters in a landscape in which GCC states weigh economic gains against regional harmony, and where Israel’s actions cast long shadows. To expand the Abraham Accords or revive a Pax Americana, Trump must navigate a region that demands not just deals but deference to its evolving calculus — a challenge that may prove as elusive as the peace he seeks to broker.
