Shaking things up in the Middle East

Can Donald Trump, a man who fancies himself in his deal-making suit, actually bring peace to the Middle East? This question now hangs over the region in the wake of his whirlwind of Saudi Arabia, Qatar and the United Arab Emirates. His secretary of state, Marco Rubio, framed the moment optimistically: “Our President is a builder, not a bomber.” It’s a phrase that encapsulates the image Trump is working hard to craft in his second term — no longer just the ‘America First’ president but a transactional globalist with a grandiose vision for West Asia.

In a speech he delivered in Riyadh, Trump declared, “A new generation of leaders is transcending the ancient conflicts and tired divisions of the past,” envisioning a Middle East defined by “commerce, not chaos”. To many, this kind of language — lofty and full of promise — is vintage Trump: confident, sweeping but usually thin on detail. But this time, there are some concrete moves behind the bluster.

Trump has ended US sanctions on Syria, opened nuclear talks with Iran in Muscat on 12 April, brokered a ceasefire with the Houthis, and deliberately excluded Israel from his itinerary — signalling what many see as a dramatic diplomatic reordering. Sources in the US also leaked an intelligence report about Israel’s possible strikes on Iran’s nuclear facilities. Reports are also emerging that the US is directly negotiating a ceasefire between Israel and Gaza with Hamas, bypassing .

The trip, dubbed by some the ‘trillion-dollar tour’, yielded a flurry of deals: over $2 trillion in Gulf investments in US infrastructure, energy and technology; multibillion-dollar arms agreements; and a clear message that the Gulf states are now being treated by Washington not just as allies but as partners.

The optics were striking — Arabian horses, Tesla Cybertrucks, fighter jet flyovers and stadium-scale investment summits. But beneath the pageantry was a clear signal: America is realigning its priorities in the Middle East.

Trump’s transactional approach — “you invest in us, we’ll give you access, influence and fewer lectures” — appeals to Gulf rulers weary of moralising US administrations. Trump’s argument is simple: the modern Middle East was not built by “nation-builders”, “neocons” or ‘”liberal nonprofits” but by its own people. He praises the “gleaming marvels” of Abu Dhabi and Riyadh as evidence of regional agency. And in return, he offers them a seat at the global high table, devoid of human rights admonishments.

Perhaps the most striking move of Trump’s tour of Syria’s new leadership. In meeting interim President Ahmad al-Sharaa, once designated a terrorist, Trump took a gamble that only he would attempt. The lifting of sanctions on Syria was reportedly made at the direct request of Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. While some see this as impulsive and dangerous, others call it pragmatic realpolitik. Either way, it was vintage Trump: driven by personal rapport, not diplomatic consensus.

On Iran, Trump deployed both carrot and stick. In one breath, he spoke of offering Tehran a “much better path” and praised the ongoing nuclear talks. In the next, he warned of “massive maximum pressure” if no deal was reached. While Iranian officials reacted with , Gulf states appeared supportive, favouring diplomacy over Israeli-led military confrontation. It’s a shift that highlights Trump’s growing distance from Israel’s current leadership — and particularly from Benjamin Netanyahu.

That shift is real. Israel was so concerned that The Jerusalem Post reported, a week before his trip, the possibility that Trump might recognise Palestinian statehood. His first term was among the most pro-Israel in US history: moving the embassy to Jerusalem, recognising Israeli sovereignty over the Golan Heights, and cutting aid to Palestinian institutions.

But his latest Middle East tour conspicuously excluded a stop in Israel. He did not meet with Netanyahu. He did not push for Saudi–Israeli normalisation. Instead, he held direct negotiations with Hamas to secure the release of a US-Israeli captive and brokered a ceasefire with the Houthis without demanding they end attacks on Israel. For a president once fully aligned with the Israeli right, this marks a remarkable shift.

What does it add up to? Trump wants to be seen as a peacemaker, as someone who ends wars rather than starts them. He repeatedly reminded audiences that he stopped short of bombing Iran, ended US involvement in Afghanistan, mediated a ceasefire between India and Pakistan and believes diplomacy, not military adventurism, serves American interests best. In Riyadh, he declared, “My preference will always be for peace and partnership, whenever those outcomes can be achieved. Always.”

Yet, the Gaza war continues. Israel is intensifying its campaign, and no ceasefire has materialised. Trump’s hazy proposal for a “freedom zone” in Gaza, potentially under US control, has been met with scepticism and accusations of attempted ethnic cleansing. The Arab street simmers with rage over American support for Israel, and the humanitarian crisis in Gaza worsens by the day. For all his posturing, Trump has not yet shown willingness to forcefully push Israel to stop.

So can Trump truly deliver peace? His second term foreign policy is undeniably different: it is less ideological, more flexible, and more openly shaped by personal chemistry with strongmen. He has abandoned the liberal-internationalist pretences of past administrations. He has redefined the USA’s role not as global policeman but as chief dealmaker. For some in the Middle East, this is refreshing; for others, it is ambivalent.

The real test of Trump’s strategy will lie not in photo-ops or investment pledges but in whether he can produce real, durable agreements, especially on the thorniest issue of them all — Israel and Palestine. The groundwork is shaky. Trump has broken with orthodoxy, but not yet established a viable new path. His moves in Syria and Iran may yield short-term gains, but lasting peace requires more than carrots and coercion — it requires vision, inclusiveness and trust.

Is Trump the ‘builder’ his secretary of state claims he is? He is certainly not a traditional ‘bomber’. He is not invading countries, toppling regimes or starting new wars. His foreign policy is transactional, not ideological. That alone is a change from the era of regime change and ‘shock and awe’.

But to build peace in the Middle East, Trump must move from cutting deals to building frameworks. He must move beyond spectacle and invest in diplomacy that outlasts the applause in Riyadh. Trump is reshaping the region’s diplomatic map, but whether it leads to lasting peace, or just another mirage in the desert, remains to be seen.

Ashok Swain is a professor of peace and conflict research at Uppsala University, Sweden. More of his writing may be