Donald Trump returned to the Gulf this week not merely as the President of the United States, but as something of a globe-trotting entrepreneur with state privileges. Over the course of a five-day tour through Saudi Arabia, Qatar and the United Arab Emirates, the Trump Middle East agenda revealed itself as a curious hybrid: a diplomatic roadshow underpinned by private deals, branded ventures and curious financial entanglements that defy traditional understandings of foreign policy.
One might be forgiven for forgetting which Trump hat he wore at any given meeting: statesman or salesman. His presidency has always flirted with such ambiguity, but in the Trump Middle East context, the intermingling of the two roles borders on parody. Golf resorts and digital currencies now accompany arms deals and ceasefire overtures.
The pragmatist’s gospel: No more Bagram fantasies
In speeches in Riyadh and Abu Dhabi, Trump offered no lofty Wilsonian proclamations, no references to human rights or democracy promotion. Instead, he championed self-reliance for the region and issued a striking repudiation of past U.S. military adventures: “We are not in the nation-building business. We are in the business business,” he quipped to a roomful of Saudi executives, his grin barely concealing the delight.
This version of Trump Middle East policy feels less like foreign affairs and more like a franchising expo. He praised Gulf leaders for their skyscrapers and startup incubators, while warning against returning to “the mistakes of Baghdad and Kabul.” Whether this is refreshing realism or cynical disengagement depends, presumably, on your business card.
Israel skipped, Gaza shrugged
Conspicuously absent from the itinerary was Israel. Not even a token stopover or phone call. Given that his first term featured an unusually warm relationship with Tel Aviv—not least the Abraham Accords and the Jerusalem embassy move—this omission was neither oversight nor accident. In private briefings, aides indicated the president saw “no upside” in involving himself in what he reportedly called “an unsolvable domestic dispute.”
More eyebrow-raising was the glancing mention of Gaza. Trump sidestepped any discussion of ceasefires or humanitarian corridors. His only remark on the matter came during a press scrum in Doha: “Eventually, Gaza will be free. We’ll help make that happen. Not today, though.” It was as though he were commenting on the weather forecast.
A Syrian handshake, an Iranian olive branch
One of the more theatrical moments of Trump’s Middle East tour occurred in Riyadh, where he shook hands with Syria’s newly installed president, Ahmad al-Sharaa—a former al-Qaeda fighter turned head of state. In what can only be described as geopolitical theatre laced with selective amnesia, Trump praised al-Sharaa’s “courageous journey from insurgent to unifier,” ignoring the awkward detail that Sharaa once fought against U.S. troops in Iraq and spent time in Abu Ghraib.
Trump’s surprise announcement that Washington would lift key sanctions on Damascus drew gasps across the State Department and prompted a minor flurry of emergency calls in Brussels. His aides insist this policy shift had long been in the works, though timing—and theatrics—suggest otherwise. Critics call it a transactional gesture designed to woo Gulf liquidity and soften Moscow’s edges, now that al-Sharaa has reportedly agreed to restore diplomatic ties with Israel and the U.S. on unspecified “terms of good faith.”
As for Iran, the tone was less bellicose than one might expect. “If Iran wants to be a friend of progress, there’s a door open,” Trump said. He then added, in classic Trumpian syntax: “But if they don’t, they’ll be poorer than they already are, which is very poor.”
The real estate tour masquerading as diplomacy
Beneath the ribbon-cutting and flag-waving lies the more complicated reality of Trump Middle East business dealings. His company—now run by his two eldest sons but still generating profit for the president himself—is entangled with Gulf real estate ventures at nearly every stop.
In Dubai, there is the towering Trump International Hotel & Tower, partnered with Dar Global, a Saudi-linked developer. In Doha, a new golf resort—built with support from Qatar’s sovereign wealth fund. Jeddah has a planned Trump Tower, while Muscat is preparing to unveil a luxury hotel bearing his name.
The optics of all this are, at best, awkward. While the president assures the public that he has no “day-to-day involvement,” the sheer volume of ongoing Trump Middle East projects raises uncomfortable questions.
Coins, sons and conflict
Perhaps the most telling episode of the trip involved a new cryptocurrency venture, World Liberty Financial, which announced a $2 billion investment from an Emirati-backed firm. One of the project’s co-founders? Zach Witkoff, son of Trump’s Middle East envoy Steve Witkoff.
Asked about it on Air Force One, Trump demurred: “I don’t know anything about that. I like crypto, though. If we don’t lead, China will.” This is the diplomatic equivalent of “nothing to see here,” delivered with a smile and a shrug.
The overlap between official duties and personal business has watchdog groups sounding alarms. Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington noted: “The American people should not have to wonder if Donald Trump is prioritising their interests or his own bottom line.” One imagines the Gulf financiers wondering the same, albeit with different motivations.
A jet, a joke, and some Republican unease
Then there’s the matter of the Qatari jet. Valued in the hundreds of millions, reportedly offered as a gift to the United States, but curiously earmarked by Trump for his future presidential library. “Why say no to a free plane?” he asked, to which even some Republican senators replied, “Because it might come with bugs, literal and political.”
Republican Senators Ted Cruz and Ron Johnson expressed discomfort with the gesture, citing espionage risks and practical absurdities. Retrofitting the jet alone could cost U.S. taxpayers over $1 billion. Trump laughed off the criticism, noting that it was “a great plane, really classy.” One hopes it comes with curtains.
Transparency as a punchline
House Speaker Mike Johnson dismissed concerns, saying “President Trump has nothing to hide.” It’s an admirably loyal statement, albeit one that reveals a deep misreading of the word “transparency.”
The president’s defenders insist that ethics guidelines are followed, that foreign gifts are declared, and that Trump merely engages with world leaders in the same transactional terms they prefer. But when the Trump Middle East strategy produces as many press releases from real estate developers as from the State Department, even friendly observers might feel the need to squint.
The golden age of Gulf enthusiasm
And yet, from the Gulf perspective, this is all rather thrilling. Trump delivers the goods. He speaks the language of profit, prestige and political indifference. Where his predecessors demanded reforms, he demands ribbon-cuttings. He praises “smart men who build tall towers,” not NGOs or reformists. One Saudi businessman put it plainly: “With Trump, you know you’re not going to get a lecture.”
By the end of the week, White House aides claimed the tour had unlocked $2 trillion in investment promises, a figure that stretches credulity but not headlines. Trump himself declared it “a perfect week,” before boarding a plane painted with the Trump Organization logo.
Trillions, with an asterisk
The $2 trillion headline figure Trump’s camp has trumpeted from every podium between Doha and Delaware is, in the words of one Gulf-based analyst, “less fiscal breakthrough, more aspirational accounting.” An analysis of actual contracts reveals that fewer than one-third of the touted agreements have legally binding status. The rest fall into the convenient category of memorandums of understanding—diplomatic slang for “we talked about it over lunch.”
The $549 billion in corporate tie-ups include pledges without signatures, press releases without purchase orders, and—most impressively—previously announced deals repackaged as fresh victories. Case in point: Aramco’s LNG agreement with NextDecade was already months old, but got recycled into the Riyadh extravaganza.
On defence, Trump has revived the same sleight of hand that made headlines during his first term—boasting of tens of billions in arms sales while Congress quietly wonders why the Pentagon hasn’t seen a penny. The supposed $142 billion Saudi arms deal is spread across a decade, pending congressional approval, and heavily contingent on future developments. Qatar’s $42 billion pledge includes items that have been “under negotiation” since the Obama years.
Substance, symbolism—and a few jet engines
And yet, not everything was smoke and mirrors. Boeing will pocket orders worth $110 billion from Gulf airlines—a coup for an embattled aerospace sector. GE Aerospace will sell hundreds of jet engines. And Abu Dhabi is now a heartbeat closer to its AI dreams.
But the real “deal” of the tour may be of a different nature altogether: symbolism. The Gulf monarchies received what they came for—not contracts, but proximity to American power, assurances of support, and visibility in a news cycle dominated by Europe’s fatigue and Asia’s distractions.
As one Gulf investment adviser put it, “This is the first diplomatic tour that trades on Nasdaq buzzwords: AI, semiconductors, LNG. Substance optional.”
No fine line, just overlapping interests
What the Trump Middle East tour lays bare is not merely a blurred boundary between diplomacy and enterprise. It is the deliberate erasure of that boundary, the construction of a new model of presidential power: commercially entwined, rhetorically flamboyant, and unapologetically self-referential. Whether the American public, the Gulf monarchies or the global order can sustain this model is another question entirely. But for now, the cranes rise, the coins circulate, and the compliments keep coming.