For decades, US foreign policy in the Middle East has been a patchwork of ideals, entanglements, and occasionally outright illusions. US presidents alternated between moral grandstanding and military adventurism, often to disappointing or even disastrous ends. Now, under Donald Trump— first in his initial term and again in his return to office— the USA appears to be undergoing a recalibration. The hallmark of this shift is a form of transactional diplomacy that prioritizes outcomes over optics, deals over doctrines, and leverage over legacy.
Critics often reduce this approach to cynicism. But that view underestimates the strategic logic underpinning it. Trump’s vision, as inconsistent as it may sometimes appear, is rooted in a broad rejection of ideological excess and a renewed focus on national interest. For a region as complex as the Middle East, where aspirations of democracy and peace have frequently collided with sectarianism and authoritarian durability, this realism may be overdue.
Trump’s framework is not born of isolationism. Instead, it reflects a hard-nosed appraisal of what the USA can reasonably accomplish— and what it should stop pretending it can. In contrast to the moralizing impulses of previous administrations, particularly Barack Obama’s, Trump’s approach is refreshingly unromantic. It acknowledges that US influence is not unlimited, that alliances must be reciprocal, and that protracted diplomatic theatre often substitutes for actual progress.
Consider the Obama Administration’s handling of the Arab Spring. The former president’s rhetorical embrace of democratic movements— from Cairo to Damascus— was inspiring in principle but disastrous in practice. The vacuum left by toppled autocrats was filled not by liberal democracies but by chaos, civil war, and resurgent authoritarianism. Trump, by contrast, has avoided grand proclamations about reshaping the region, focusing instead on containment, deterrence, and deal-making.
This pivot has particular resonance when it comes to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the third rail of American Middle East policy. Successive administrations, Democratic and Republican alike, have been ensnared by process: initiatives, summits, roadmaps, and resolutions that rarely move the needle. Trump, by contrast, has framed the issue less as a diplomatic quagmire to be managed and more as a transactional dilemma to be resolved. From this vantage point, peace isn’t the product of symbolism or speechmaking but of mutually beneficial agreements backed by tangible pressure.
During his first term, Trump granted Israel unprecedented political gifts: the relocation of the US embassy to Jerusalem, recognition of the Golan Heights, and support for the Abraham Accords. These moves reinforced US alignment with Israel but also drew attention to a critical dilemma—what happens when the recipient of such support gives little in return?
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, bolstered by Washington’s gestures, doubled down on maximalist policies that sidelined peace prospects and inflamed tensions in Gaza, Syria, and beyond. There were reports of Israeli interference in US domestic politics and an apparent reluctance to match US support with diplomatic flexibility. In Trump’s second term, there are signs that patience may be running thin.
Trump is not dismantling America’s role in the region. He’s redefining it. Not as an empire of values, but as a republic of interests. And in a world grown weary of moralistic overreach, that just might be the kind of leadership the Middle East needs most.
Here lies the essence of Trump’s evolving strategy: friendship with Israel does not equate to unconditional backing. If the USA is to remain a credible force in the region, it must retain its ability to act as an honest broker. That credibility is undermined when strategic partners act with impunity. For Trump, rebalancing this dynamic is not an act of betrayal but a necessary correction.
Just as significant is the shifting calculus with Saudi Arabia. The Kingdom has long maintained that no durable peace in the Middle East is possible without addressing Palestinian grievances. Trump, often caricatured as indifferent to such concerns, now seems to acknowledge the centrality of the Palestinian question— not out of sentimentality, but because of unresolved political disenfranchisement breeds instability, extremism, and strategic paralysis.
This recognition does not amount to appeasement. There is no suggestion that Trump is seeking to empower Hamas or legitimize violent factions. Instead, his administration appears to be embracing a more pragmatic understanding: prosperity in the Middle East is contingent on more than arms deals and anti-Iran alliances. It requires dignity and economic agency for Palestinians, and it requires buy-in from regional powers who are no longer content with US platitudes.
Saudi Arabia and other Gulf states have signaled readiness to deepen ties with Israel— but with conditions. They want real movement on the Palestinian issue. Trump, attuned to leverage, sees in this a rare opportunity: by simultaneously pressing Israel and engaging Arab capitals, he could unlock a new diplomatic geometry. One that treats all actors not as ideological allies or adversaries, but as stakeholders with interests to align.
Historical precedent lends weight to this ambition. In 1956, President Dwight Eisenhower forced Britain, France, and Israel to back down from the Suez adventure— a moment that affirmed US leadership by showing even close allies that Washington would not subordinate its judgment to theirs. Trump, consciously or not, may be attempting something similar: asserting independence from parochial lobbies and reminding regional actors that support from the USA must be earned, not assumed.
The lesson from Eisenhower’s era is that true alliances are not built on blind loyalty but on mutual respect and strategic alignment. If Trump can apply that lesson— balancing firmness with pragmatism— he may succeed where others have failed.
Of course, this strategy carries risks. A transactional approach can quickly descend into inconsistency if not backed by clear principles. It demands careful calibration— pressure without alienation, realism without retreat. And Trump himself, prone to personal vendettas and unpredictable shifts, is not always the ideal steward of such a delicate balance.
Yet the larger arc of his Middle East policy suggests a recalibrated realism that previous presidents, for all their eloquence and intentions, struggled to achieve. It may not produce immediate peace. But it could lay the groundwork for a less dysfunctional regional order— one built not on fantasies of transformation, but on achievable goals grounded in mutual interest.
Whether this amounts to a lasting legacy is still an open question. Much will depend on whether Trump can institutionalize these shifts beyond his personal brand. For now, however, it’s clear that America’s approach to the Middle East is being reshaped—not by abstract ideals, but by a strategic pragmatism that, for better or worse, may be better suited to the times.
In that respect, Trump is not dismantling America’s role in the region. He’s redefining it. Not as an empire of values, but as a republic of interests. And in a world grown weary of moralistic overreach, that just might be the kind of leadership the Middle East needs most.
