In a regional moment when balances of power are being redrawn and new alliances are forming on pragmatic foundations, Saudi Arabia appears trapped in a traditional approach to managing its influence: an approach based on uncompromising rhetoric without implementation tools, circumstantial alliances lacking sustainability, and treatment of the Palestinian cause as a political card rather than as a genuine liberation project. This policy not only obstructs opportunities for peace but also reveals a deeper flaw in strategic vision — where reactive responses replace planning and obstruction takes precedence over solutions.
In the normalisation file, Riyadh clings to a high-ceiling slogan: “No normalisation without a Palestinian state.” Despite the moral appeal of this position, it lacks realistic mechanisms for implementation. There is no clear roadmap, no defined timeline, and no effective pressure tools capable of forcing Israel to make concessions. Thus, the slogan becomes merely a symbolic stance that entrenches deadlock more than it serves Palestinian rights. Verbal hardline positions, when not accompanied by political action, turn into a cover for perpetuating the status quo.
By contrast, the Abraham Accords — whatever one thinks of them — demonstrated that normalisation can be used as an instrument of influence and bargaining, allowing the opening of direct channels and the reshaping of regional calculations. The countries that chose this path did so driven by interests and gradual pressure, not idealism. Yet Saudi Arabia, instead of developing a more effective alternative approach, treated these transformations as a threat to its traditional role, opting for rhetorical confrontation and turning Palestine into a political tool rather than a cause seeking practical solutions.
This pattern also applies to Riyadh’s management of its regional alliances. The war in Yemen provides the clearest example. Instead of crafting a cohesive alliance based on a clear political vision, hasty military decisions and narrow security calculations prevailed, leading to prolonged attrition, the creation of security vacuums, and divisions among partners. The disagreements with the UAE over management of the south revealed that what was called a “strategic alliance” was in reality a fragile understanding that quickly cracked at the first serious test.
The relationship with the UAE is not an exceptional case. From the Gulf to Washington, from energy files to regional issues, the same pattern repeats: alliances built on immediate need that then erode at the first divergence. Under Mohammed bin Salman, Saudi Arabia entered successive crises: tensions with Canada, volatile relations with the Biden administration, and erratic repositioning in Iraq and Yemen. The result was not a strengthened influence, but shaken trust and the transformation of Riyadh into a partner whose behaviour is difficult to predict.
Hardline rhetoric plays a central role in this problematic dynamic. Instead of serving as a calibrated negotiating tool, it is used to meet domestic considerations and manufacture an image of firmness — even at the expense of regional interests. In the Palestinian context, it is used to suspend any practical track; in alliances, it is used to justify unilateral decisions. The constant result is the same: loss of allies’ confidence and erosion of the ability to exert real influence.
Most dangerously, this approach backfires on Saudi Arabia itself. States do not build long-term partnerships with an actor that changes positions according to circumstances or uses major causes for tactical bargaining. Sustainable alliances require a shared vision, policy consistency, and rational management of differences. What is happening today reflects the exact opposite: influence without a compass, and hardline positions without strategy.
Amid all this, Palestine remains the biggest loser. Instead of leveraging Saudi political and economic weight to impose real costs on the occupation, the cause is used as a rhetorical shield that prevents any new approach. There is no real pressure to force a settlement, no tangible support to shift the balance of power — only an open-ended state of waiting from which only the occupation benefits. Here, the failure becomes not only political but also moral.
In the final analysis, Saudi Arabia’s problem is not a lack of capabilities, but the absence of vision. Normalisation was rejected without an effective alternative; alliances were built without continuity; hardline rhetoric replaced realistic policy. And in a region that cannot afford a vacuum, this approach leads to one outcome: more disorder, a declining regional role, and the perpetual postponement of peace opportunities.
If Riyadh wishes to transform into a genuine force for stability, it must redefine its tools: turn its influence into practical solutions, its alliances into sustainable partnerships, and the Palestinian cause from a political slogan into a realistic action plan that brings peace closer rather than delaying it. Without such a shift, the region will continue to pay the price of a policy that repeats its mistakes far more than it shapes its future.
