Israel’s 9 September attack on Qatar shows why its neighbour, Saudi Arabia, has been pushing for a formal defence pact with the US in recent years. Despite being close US partners, the Gulf states only have informal security agreements with Washington. These are not ratified by the US Senate, and in this case did not prevent Israel from striking the Qatari capital.
Riyadh has repeatedly insisted on a formal agreement with US security guarantees. Recall the US proposal from autumn 2023 on upgrading US-Saudi defence relations: back then, President Joe Biden suggested offering Saudi Arabia a mutual defence pact in return for the kingdom normalizing relations with Israel. President Donald Trump repeated that offer when he met with Saudi leaders on his trip to the Gulf this May.
In the end, neither Biden nor Trump could deliver because Israel did not meet Saudi Arabia’s condition of agreeing to the creation of an independent Palestinian state. Regardless, the point remains: the Saudis were insisting on the Americans providing ironclad security guarantees that would make any US violation of the pact costly for Washington politically and reputationally.
The Saudis, and all the US’s other Gulf partners, were content with a non-legally-binding security agreement with Washington for more than seven decades. But then 14 September 2019 happened, and it dramatically changed the Saudi and Gulf mindset.
On that day, Iran attacked Saudi oil facilities with drones and missiles. The attack was seen as punishing Riyadh for siding with Trump’s maximum pressure policy against Tehran. It was the first time in the history of Saudi-Iran relations that Tehran had attacked Saudi Arabia directly with conventional munitions (Tehran denied direct responsibility, but this has been rejected by Riyadh and Washington).
The US condemned the attack, but took no concrete action against Iran, which shocked the Saudis. After this, the informal security agreement with Washington was no longer enough.
The Saudis wanted a deal in writing, a document officially signed by both sides. The deal needed to be legal, have the buy-in of Congress and be able to survive successive administrations. This would mean being treated like any other formal treaty ally of the US, such as NATO members and Pacific countries including Japan, South Korea, and the Philippines.
The Gulf states have now been attacked by both a friend (Israel) and a foe (Iran) of the US. Both times, Washington couldn’t – or worse, wasn’t willing to – protect them. One can’t blame the Gulf states if they are having doubts about the US commitment to their defence, despite Washington hosting US troops and assets on their soil and selling them vast amounts of weaponry.
But the answer to the Gulf states’ uncertainty surrounding the future of US guardianship may not be to double down on the US. Obtaining a mutual defence pact from the US looks increasingly unlikely given Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s staunch opposition to a two-state solution with the Palestinians and his promise to target Hamas leaders ‘wherever they are.’ Even if a pact was possible, it still won’t categorically ensure US protection.
Even with NATO’s Article 5, the US or any other NATO member is not obligated to automatically come to the defence of the attacked party. Each member can assess the situation and consult and if they feel like military intervention is against their security interests, they can back down. There would certainly be political and reputational costs, but these would likely be less high than getting entangled in a war with the aggressor.
Nor does a mutual defence pact with nuclear-armed Pakistan, signed this week by Saudi and Pakistani leaders, offer that unmistakable defence guarantee. Pakistan’s top priority is India, and all military resources, limited in nature, go towards addressing that historic challenge. This is not to dismiss the strategic importance of the Saudi-Pakistan defence pact, but to make the point that there is a better alternative, closer to home.
Gulf defence integration
Indeed, the solution to enhanced Gulf security lies within. It always has, and it’s based on defence integration, or at the very least much improved defence cooperation between the six countries of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC).
The GCC states agreed to the creation of the Peninsula Shield Force in 1984, which aimed to establish a joint military force. Defence integration has been subsequently discussed at various summits, with a joint defence agreement signed in 2000. But as of 2025, the Peninsula Shield Force has been limited to consultations, with the exception of a military intervention in 2011 in Manama, Bahrain, to help quell a popular uprising against the Bahraini monarchy. A truly integrated military command remains a long way off.
The Gulf states have never fully pursued defence integration in part because of mutual mistrust and diverging foreign policy positions. Just a few years ago, Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Bahrain launched a blockade of Qatar after accusing Doha of interfering in their internal affairs among other accusations. Relations have since much improved, with Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, and Manama expressing their solidarity with Doha after the Israeli attack, but relations between the Gulf states continue to be characterized by a combination of competition and coordination.