A narrative has taken hold in parts of the U.S. media in recent weeks suggesting that Saudi Arabia is becoming a less worthwhile American ally. The argument is driven by two factors: first, that Riyadh has delayed normalization with Israel after the war in Gaza; second, that it has deep policy differences with Israel’s newest favorite in the region, the United Arab Emirates, over Yemen. From these premises, critics draw a sweeping but deeply flawed conclusion: that Saudi Arabia is drifting away from the United States and even reverting to old habits of exporting radical Islam or aligning with “Islamists” as a regional strategy.
This narrative is wrong on the facts and wrong on strategy.
Saudi Arabia’s differences with the UAE and Israel do not stem from ideological backsliding or hostility to the West. They stem from a fundamental disagreement over how to deal with some of the most fragile states in the world. Riyadh’s position is straightforward: weak states can be stabilized and reformed; failed states become breeding grounds for terrorism, crime and endless conflict. The Kingdom’s priority has therefore been to support internationally recognized governments in Yemen, Sudan, Somalia and Libya, and to prevent those countries from fragmenting into mini-states run by militias and warlords.
By contrast, the UAE, often quietly cheered on by Israel’s current government, has pursued a different approach: backing secessionist forces and local strongmen in the hope of gaining short-term leverage or quick diplomatic wins. In some cases, these armed factions openly market themselves as future signatories to the Abraham Accords if they are granted power over a slice of territory. They seek U.S. recognition in exchange for such promises, with Somaliland offering the latest example. That tactic may eventually produce a headline or a signing ceremony, but it will not produce stability.
This is the core issue that much of the current commentary ignores. Saudi Arabia is not opposing normalization with Israel in principle. It is opposing a model of normalization that sidesteps the Palestinian question, rewards state fragmentation, legitimizes militias and accelerates state collapse. That stance is not anti-American; it aligns with longstanding U.S. interests.
The United States is a status quo power. It benefits from predictable borders, functioning governments, secure energy markets and open sea lanes. It does not benefit from a Middle East carved into rival statelets run by armed groups whose authority rests on guns, smuggling routes and foreign patronage. History is unambiguous on this point. Terrorism thrives not in strong states but in failed ones. Transnational crime, drug trafficking and human smuggling flourish where central authority collapses.
Americans do not need a long memory to understand this. The September 11 attacks did not emerge from a strong, authoritarian state. They came out of Afghanistan, a country so weak and fractured that it could not prevent al-Qaeda from operating freely on its territory. The cost of that failure was paid not only by Afghanistan’s neighbors but by the United States itself.
Yet today, some voices in Washington seem oddly relaxed about policies that push Yemen, Sudan, Somalia and Libya further down that same path. Fragmentation is treated as manageable. Militias are treated as potential partners. Secession is reframed as “self-determination.” These are comforting words, but the realities they mask are brutal. Once countries begin to splinter, violence becomes normalized, war economies take hold and extremist groups find space to operate. Reversing that process is vastly harder than preventing it in the first place.
The current Israeli government, dominated by the far right, appears especially blind to these long-term consequences. Tactical gains, such as persuading a local strongman or would-be statelet to embrace the Abraham Accords, are treated as strategic triumphs even when they increase instability across the entire region. That is a shortsighted calculation. Israel’s long-term security, like America’s, would benefit not from a patchwork of weak neighbors but from a region governed by legitimate, functioning states and anchored by a credible resolution of the Palestinian issue.
Saudi Arabia understands this. It has spent years trying, often quietly and imperfectly, to shore up state institutions, keep borders intact and prevent total collapse in some of the world’s most difficult environments. That work is neither glamorous nor immediately rewarding, but it is essential. It is also precisely the kind of burden-sharing Washington should want from a serious ally.
The claim that Saudi Arabia is exporting radical Islam again or aligning with Islamist movements as a strategy is particularly absurd. The Kingdom has spent the past decade dismantling those networks at home, reforming religious institutions and cooperating closely with the United States on counterterrorism. Supporting recognized governments against militias does not make Riyadh an Islamist ally. It makes it a defender of basic state order.
America does not need allies who chase disruption for its own sake. It needs allies who understand that stability, however imperfect, is preferable to chaos, and that reform is possible only where a state still exists. Saudi Arabia is such an ally.
Tactical disagreements with some of America’s other allies in the region should not be mistaken for a strategic drift away from the USA itself. Such an assumption risks undermining the very partners working to prevent the next generation of failed states, and the next generation of threats, from emerging. That would not serve American interests. It would betray them.
