ANALYSIS: Trump Presents the Gulf States with a 5,000 Billion Choice—Pay for War or Buy Peace

The Trap of Security Dependence

One must understand the Gulf’s security architecture to grasp the full extent of the trap. The United States maintains the Fifth Fleet in Bahrain, the Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar—the largest U.S. base in the Middle East—and facilities in Kuwait, the United Arab Emirates, and Saudi Arabia. This military presence is not a luxury. It is the nervous system of regional security.

Without it, the Gulf monarchies would find themselves facing Iran with armies that are certainly well-equipped but incapable of projecting credible power without American logistical support, intelligence, and nuclear deterrence. An American withdrawal from the Gulf—even a partial one—would alter the strategic balance of the entire region within a matter of weeks.

For a Gulf emir, saying no to Trump is not a diplomatic stance. It is an existential calculation.

The Dilemma of the Trapped Monarchies

And yet, saying yes poses an equally daunting problem. Five thousand billion dollars is a sum that would tie up the Gulf states’ sovereign wealth funds for decades. Saudi Arabia, whose sovereign wealth fund (PIF) is worth approximately $930 billion, would have to mortgage its entire Vision 2030—the economic diversification plan intended to prepare the country for the post-oil era.

The United Arab Emirates, Qatar, and Kuwait—each of these states has invested heavily in the post-hydrocarbon transition. Everyone knows that oil won’t last forever. And each finds itself facing an absurd choice: finance someone else’s war, or risk losing the shield that protects the peace on which their prosperity depends.

The Great Strategic Paradox

There is something profoundly absurd about this equation. We talk about billions to wage war against Iran, or billions to make peace with Iran. But no one is talking to Iran. The Islamic Republic, whose very fate is literally at stake, is treated as an object of negotiation, not as a subject.

Yet Iran is not a passive actor. With its advanced nuclear program, its allied militias deployed from Iraq to Lebanon via Yemen and Syria, and its ability to close the Strait of Hormuz—through which one-fifth of the world’s oil passes—Tehran wields considerable leverage. Leverage that neither the Gulf states’ billions nor American firepower can neutralize without risking a full-scale conflagration.

Negotiating the cost of a war without consulting the adversary is like setting the menu for dinner without asking if the restaurant is even open. Iran might well decide that no one is having dinner tonight.

What Tehran Is Calculating While Washington Is Negotiating

While Trump negotiates with the Gulf monarchies, Iranian strategists are not standing idly by. Iran has demonstrated, through its ballistic missile strikes and retaliatory operations, that it possesses a response capability that makes any conventional war extremely costly—not only in money, but in human lives and infrastructure.

Saudi oil facilities, Emirati ports, and the desalination plants on which the entire peninsula’s drinking water depends—all of these are within range of Iranian missiles. An all-out war against Iran would not only destroy Iran. It would destroy the Gulf region that finances it.

Riyadh neither confirms nor denies

As of this writing, no Gulf capital has officially responded to al-Zadjali’s allegations. This silence is no coincidence. It reflects a deep diplomatic unease. Confirming the allegations would be humiliating—it would mean publicly admitting to being subject to financial blackmail. Denying them would be risky—it would mean contradicting a report that could turn out to be accurate in the coming weeks.

Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the architect of Saudi modernization, finds himself in the most uncomfortable position of his career. He, who has built his legitimacy on the image of a sovereign and ambitious Saudi Arabia, must now deal with an ally acting like an impatient creditor.

The silence of Arab capitals speaks louder than any statement. When no one is speaking, it means everyone is negotiating.

The Emirates are playing their own tune

Abu Dhabi, for its part, has for several years been pursuing a policy of diversifying its strategic alliances. The rapprochement with China, the Abraham Accords with Israel, and cross-investments with India—all of this is specifically aimed at reducing dependence on Washington. But this diversification takes time. And time, precisely, is what Trump refuses to grant.

The Emirates find themselves in the paradoxical situation of an investor who has bet on expanding their network of partners to free themselves from a single supplier, but who has not yet reaped the dividends of this strategy when the supplier presents the final bill.

Who called for this war?

Because that is precisely the crux of the matter. The Gulf states have never called for an all-out war against Iran. They want a weakened, contained Iran, incapable of projecting its power in the region. But an open war—with its inevitable mutual destruction, disruptions to oil supplies, waves of refugees, and regional instability—none of that serves their interests.

And yet, this is the war Trump is asking them to finance—a war they did not want, launched by an administration whose motivations blend strategic considerations, electoral interests, and eschatological visions held by a segment of the American evangelical base. The Gulf states find themselves paying for a conflict that primarily serves American domestic interests.

Asking the potential victim to finance its neighbor’s war is the epitome of transactional diplomacy. This is no longer an alliance. It is extortion with a smile.

Washington’s Cynical Calculation

From the Trump administration’s perspective, the logic is brutally simple. The United States spends hundreds of billions on military operations in the Middle East. The countries that benefit from this presence—directly, through security; indirectly, through the stability of oil markets—are not paying their fair share. The shortfall must be made up. Period.

This logic deliberately ignores the fact that the Gulf monarchies are already paying. Through purchases of American weapons, which have amounted to hundreds of billions for decades. Through investments in the American economy. Through stabilizing oil markets when Washington asks them to. Through shared intelligence, logistics, and access to bases. The Gulf does not benefit from American protection for free. It finances it in other ways.

The Arithmetic of the Absurd

Five thousand billion for war. Two thousand five hundred for peace. Let’s pause to consider this asymmetry. War costs twice as much as peace. The information is presented as if the “peace option” were a bargain. A 50% discount on the apocalypse. A geopolitical Black Friday.

It’s the good cop/bad cop logic applied on a global scale. The terrifying option makes the simply ruinous option seem acceptable by comparison. It’s a cognitive bias known as the anchoring effect: by presenting the higher figure first, the second one seems almost reasonable.

“Only” $2,500 billion to avoid a war. If that’s not the deal of the century, what is? The answer is simple: it’s the heist of the century.

Where would this money go?

Neither the Omani analyst nor any official source has specified the terms of these transfers. Are they direct payments to the U.S. Treasury? Purchases of additional weapons? Funding for specific operations? Contributions to a reconstruction fund? The details are missing, and this lack of clarity is in itself revealing.

Because in financial diplomacy, ambiguity is a tool. It allows for negotiation. It allows one to back down without losing face. It also allows for presenting different versions of the facts to different audiences. Washington can deny the exact amounts while maintaining pressure. The Gulf states can negotiate for lower amounts while showing their populations that they are standing their ground.

When Empires Finance Their Wars

History offers troubling parallels. In the 19th century, the British Empire financed its colonial wars by imposing tribute on its “protected” kingdoms. The Indian princely states paid the Crown for the privilege of being protected—against threats that the Crown itself had often created. The “protection” treaties were, in reality, treaties of fiscal submission.

The comparison isn’t perfect. The Gulf states are not colonies. They have resources, diplomatic leverage, and agency. But the structural mechanism is identical: a dominant power offers security in exchange for a financial tribute, while controlling the conditions that make that security necessary.

We no longer call it a tribute. We call it “burden-sharing.” But when the burden is created by the very party demanding that it be shared, euphemisms do nothing to change the nature of the transaction.

The Lesson the Gulf Refuses to Learn

Every decade since the 1990s, the Gulf monarchies have had the opportunity to build an autonomous security architecture. Every decade, they have preferred to outsource this mission to the United States. The result is predictable: when the contractor decides to revise its rates, the client has no immediate alternative.

The Gulf Cooperation Council, created in 1981 specifically to coordinate regional defense, has never achieved the critical mass of military integration that would allow it to do without the U.S. security umbrella. Internal rivalries—the 2017 Qatar crisis, tensions in Oman, and strategic differences between Abu Dhabi and Riyadh—have prevented any collective autonomy.

Beijing is watching, calculating, and waiting

In the corridors of the Gulf states’ foreign ministries, one name is coming up more and more often in closed-door conversations: China. The world’s leading importer of Gulf oil, a rapidly expanding military power, and above all—a power that does not make its cooperation contingent on moral or democratic demands.

China has already scored some points. The Iran-Saudi Arabia normalization agreement, negotiated under Beijing’s auspices in March 2023, demonstrated that Chinese diplomacy could accomplish in the Middle East what Washington had neither the will nor the credibility to achieve. For the Gulf monarchies, the temptation to pivot toward Beijing is no longer theoretical. It is strategic.

Every bill Trump sends to the Gulf is a purchase order of which China receives a carbon copy. Washington sells security at a high price. Beijing offers it in exchange for oil contracts. The market speaks for itself.

Why the Chinese pivot remains a mirage—for now

But it would be naive to believe that China can replace the United States overnight. Beijing has neither the naval power to secure the Strait of Hormuz, nor the military bases necessary to project credible force in the Gulf, nor the operational experience gained from four decades of continuous presence in the region. China’s only overseas military base is in Djibouti—thousands of kilometers from the relevant theater of operations.

The Chinese option is a bargaining chip, not an operational alternative. And Trump knows it. That explains why he’s raising the stakes now, before the balance of power shifts irrevocably.

What We Know and What We Don’t Know

We must be intellectually honest. Al-Zadjali’s allegations are based on a single source. No official documents have been produced. No U.S. or Gulf official has confirmed these figures. The Omani analyst, although respected in regional academic circles, has not revealed his sources.

That does not mean the information is false. In Middle Eastern diplomacy, the most important negotiations always take place behind the scenes. The amounts may be exaggerated, the terms distorted, the timeline altered. But the pressure tactic—Washington demanding a massive financial contribution from the Gulf states for its operations against Iran—is consistent with everything we know about Trump’s foreign policy.

The lack of official confirmation is not proof of falsity. It is proof that negotiations are underway. Governments do not deny what does not exist. They remain silent on what embarrasses them.

The Role of Trial Balloons in Gulf Diplomacy

It is also possible that this leak is a trial balloon—information deliberately leaked to test reactions. This is a classic tactic in Middle Eastern diplomacy. By observing the reactions of markets, public opinion, and governments, the key players adjust their position even before formalizing it.

If the oil markets do not panic, if Arab public opinion does not flare up, and if Gulf governments do not protest—then the signal is clear: the proposal is acceptable. And serious negotiations can begin.

The Strait of Hormuz: A Chokepoint of Fear

In this whole equation, there is one factor that no one can fully control: oil. Approximately 21 million barrels per day pass through the Strait of Hormuz. Any military escalation in the Gulf would trigger a spike in prices that would destabilize the global economy—including the U.S. economy that Trump claims to be protecting.

The Gulf monarchies know this. And they know that Trump knows it. Oil is both their vulnerability and their leverage. If prices skyrocket due to a conflict with Iran, Gulf oil revenues soar—but efforts to diversify their economies collapse. If prices remain stable thanks to a diplomatic resolution, revenues decline—but long-term prosperity is preserved.

Oil from the Gulf is the lifeblood of the global economy. And when Trump asks for 5,000 billion to continue the war, he forgets that every bomb that falls near the Strait of Hormuz drives up the price of the barrel of oil that heats American homes.

OPEC+ as a Tool of Passive Resistance

Saudi Arabia, as the leader of OPEC+, wields a weapon that Washington fears: production policy. Increasing production drives down prices and weakens Russian and Iranian oil revenues—which is what Washington wants. But reducing production drives up prices and penalizes American consumers—something Trump cannot afford politically.

This leverage is subtle, indirect, and devoid of any open confrontation. It allows the Gulf monarchies to signal their dissatisfaction without ever uttering a word of public criticism. It’s diplomacy by the barrel, and it’s probably the only language Trump truly understands.

The End of the Alliance as a Moral Concept

If al-Zadjali’s allegations are even partially accurate, they mark a turning point in the history of international relations. The alliance between the United States and the Gulf monarchies, forged in the Quincy Pact of 1945 between Roosevelt and Ibn Saud, was based on an implicit exchange: oil for security. An exchange that, despite its asymmetries, preserved mutual dignity.

What Trump is proposing—or demanding—is fundamentally different in nature. It is no longer an exchange between partners. It is a transaction between a monopolistic supplier and captive customers. The moral dimension of the alliance—the common defense of regional stability—has been replaced by pure commercial logic.

The Quincy Pact promised security in exchange for oil. Trump’s pact promises security in exchange for everything: oil, money, sovereignty, dignity. And when everything isn’t enough, he demands even more.

The multipolar world is accelerating

Every exorbitant demand from Washington accelerates the fragmentation of the American-led world order. The Gulf states are not the only ones watching. India, Brazil, Indonesia, Turkey—all the middle powers that depend in part on the U.S. security system—are taking note. If the world’s wealthiest allies can be subjected to such blackmail, no one is safe.

The logical consequence is the proliferation of alternatives: bilateral agreements outside the American framework; alternative currencies to the dollar; and regional security architectures that exclude Washington. By maximizing short-term gains, Trump is destroying the very system from which he derives his long-term power.

Three Scenarios for the Next Six Months

Scenario 1 — Negotiated submission. The Gulf monarchies agree to pay, but negotiate lower amounts. Instead of 5,000 billion, they agree on a few hundred billion in arms purchases, investments in the U.S. economy, and contributions to military operations. Their honor is preserved, and their dependence remains intact.

Scenario 2 — Coordinated resistance. The GCC, united for once, collectively rejects Washington’s terms and accelerates its pivot toward China and India. This scenario is the riskiest in the short term but the most beneficial in the long term. It requires political courage that the Gulf monarchies have historically never demonstrated in the face of the United States.

Scenario 3 — Chaos. The lack of an agreement triggers a military escalation with Iran; the Gulf monarchies find themselves caught between U.S. strikes and Iranian retaliation; oil prices skyrocket; and the entire region descends into a conflict whose outcome no one can control.

Of the three scenarios, the first is the most likely. Because it requires the least courage. And because, in Gulf diplomacy, caution has always been preferred over dignity.

What the People of the Gulf Will Never Hear

Citizens of Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Qatar will likely never be informed of the details of these negotiations. The Gulf’s state-controlled media will present any agreement as a sovereign decision, a “strengthened strategic partnership,” or a “voluntary contribution to regional security.”

The vocabulary of submission will be cloaked in the language of power. And the public, whose access to critical information remains limited, will accept the official version. For in the Gulf monarchies, geopolitical truth is a luxury that only Omani analysts on television can afford.

The Moment Protection Turned into Extortion

There is a line—invisible but real—between protection and racketeering. Protection is when someone stronger defends you because they have the ability to do so and you share a common interest. Racketeering is when someone stronger demands payment in exchange for not attacking you—or for not abandoning you.

Five thousand billion for war. Two thousand five hundred for peace. These figures, whether accurate or exaggerated, reveal a truth deeper than their mere amounts. They reveal that, for the Trump administration, international security is no longer a public good. It is a product. With a price tag. And customers who have no choice in their supplier.

And yet, it may be precisely this moment of humiliation that will force the Gulf monarchies to do what they should have done thirty years ago: build their own security. Not as a replacement for the American alliance, but as a complement to it. So that the next time an American president presents a bill, the response will not be an awkward silence, but a sovereign “no.”

The day the Gulf stops being a client and becomes a partner—on that day, Trump’s bills will end up in the trash. But that day has not yet arrived. And at 5,000 billion for the lesson, the learning curve is expensive.

Signed, Jacques PJ Provost