A trillion-dollar handshake

No Saudi leader in modern history has ever been welcomed to the White House with the extravagant display President Donald Trump lavished upon Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (MBS) of Saudi Arabia last week. Fighter jets streaked overhead, an honor guard on horseback lined the South Lawn, a military band played, and Trump stood beaming beside MBS, arm draped over his shoulder like an old friend. This was not routine protocol; it felt more like a coronation.

The political headlines announced during the two-day summit were staggering. The United States and Saudi Arabia signed a Civilian Nuclear Cooperation Pact making American companies preferred partners for the Kingdom’s ambitious nuclear program, while preserving stringent nonproliferation standards. The administration approved the sale of F-35 stealth fighters—the first time Riyadh will receive America’s most advanced warplane—and cleared the delivery of nearly 300 M1 Abrams tanks. A new Strategic Defense Partnership was formalized, and Trump officially designated Saudi Arabia a Major Non-NATO Ally, granting privileged access to defense procurement, trade benefits, and security cooperation without the obligations of a mutual defense treaty. Both leaders also committed to finalize a comprehensive military pact expanding joint exercises, intelligence sharing, and counterterrorism operations across the region.

These agreements anchor an already robust U.S.–Saudi partnership in the industries of the future, including artificial intelligence, nuclear energy, critical minerals, advanced semiconductors, and defense technology. The promised $1 trillion in Saudi investment into the U.S. economy is not charity—it is a hard-nosed acknowledgment that America remains the indispensable partner for nations seeking rapid modernization.

Yet the summit’s most delicate and consequential element concerned Israel.

MBS publicly pledged that Saudi Arabia will eventually join the Abraham Accords and normalize relations with Israel—but only if the United States provides a “credible, irreversible, and guaranteed” pathway to Palestinian statehood through a two-state solution. In a single sentence, MBS dangled the grand prize every American president since Carter has sought: full Arab recognition of Israel.

No discussion of this visit can escape the shadow of Jamal Khashoggi’s 2018 murder inside the Saudi consulate in Istanbul. Trump brushed aside U.S. intelligence assessments that MBS ordered the killing, insisting the prince “knew nothing about it” and calling Khashoggi “extremely controversial.” MBS described the incident as “painful,” pointed to Saudi investigations and reforms, and the conversation moved on.

On Capitol Hill, the tone differed sharply from past years. House Speaker Mike Johnson hosted an hour-long reception for the crown prince attended by Republicans and an unexpected number of Democrats. Former critic Sen. Marco Rubio—now secretary of state—sat beside the prince. Lawmakers called the meeting “fantastic,” focusing on Saudi domestic reforms, technology transfers, countering Chinese espionage, and the Gaza war—not on Khashoggi, political prisoners, or public executions. Trump praised MBS for “strides in human rights,” likely referencing reforms such as allowing women to drive and travel without a guardian. Broader concerns—crackdowns on dissent, imprisoned critics, and the treatment of religious minorities—were largely set aside.

This visit was both historic and strategic. Saudi Arabia remains the most important Muslim nation in the Middle East and North Africa. It is the custodian of Islam’s holiest sites, the world’s largest oil exporter, and the geopolitical pivot of the Sunni Arab world. No other country matches its blend of religious authority, financial clout, and military weight. Its role in regional stability is unmatched.

Those who caricature Trump as anti-Muslim should rewatch the footage. Muslim leaders do not merely tolerate Trump—they genuinely like him. They see a pragmatic dealmaker who respects strength, honors commitments, and avoids public lectures about their internal affairs. He is more admired in royal palaces—and on the Arab street—than in American faculty lounges.

Yet legitimate concerns remain and must be spoken plainly.

Human rights abuses in Saudi Arabia are real. Non-Muslims face severe restrictions and critics of the regime, including religious scholars and women’s rights activists who pushed reform too quickly for the government, languish in prison. The judiciary lacks independence, and public executions continue. These are profound moral failures.

But a hard truth remains. Public shaming rarely changes the behavior of Arab monarchies. What does work is sustained, private diplomatic pressure paired with compelling economic and security incentives. Keeping friends close—and adversaries closer—is not naïveté; it is statecraft. Arab rulers do not respond well to Western threats. Instead, they respond to deals that make them richer, stronger, and more secure.

The Trump approach—lavish public praise, firm private understandings, and massive mutual investment—is more likely to produce gradual openings than the stern lectures of the Obama and Biden years. Time will tell whether this rapprochement endures and delivers. The potential rewards are immense: a stabilized Middle East, hundreds of thousands of high-paying American jobs, leadership in the technologies of the future, and—perhaps most importantly—the real possibility that Saudi Arabia, the spiritual heart of the Islamic world, will eventually make formal peace with Israel.

If that day comes, historians will look back on last week, when fighter jets roared over Washington and two very different leaders grinned for the cameras, and mark it as the moment the Middle East finally began to turn the page.