Why Trump Has Turned Against Israel
For better or worse, the US-Israeli alliance was always built on shared values. Now that Trump has moved to a completely transaction model, that undermines the very basis of the relationship.
The first Trump term was seen as incredibly pro-Israel. It seemed that he could barely say the word “Israel” without adding “our greatest ally” or “the smartest people.” He moved the embassy to Jerusalem, took credit for the Abraham Accords, and made Sheldon Adelson’s dreams come true. He even recognized the annexation of the Golan Heights.
But in this term it is undeniable that something has changed. The President snubbed Israel and is not visiting it in his first trip to the Middle East. He reached an agreement to stop bombing the Houthis in Yemen even though they continue to launch missiles at Israel. Trump is also pursuing an Iran nuclear deal that looks suspiciously like the Netanyahu fought against tooth and nail when Obama was President.
So what gives? The story isn’t about a sudden change of heart or some grand ideological pivot. It’s simpler—and, in a way, more predictable. Trump’s always seen the world as a series of deals. When those deals shift, so does his loyalty. These days, the Gulf states are doing a lot more business with Trump than Israel is. Saudi money is flowing into his family’s ventures. His golf courses are hosting Saudi-backed tournaments. The Saudis and Emiratis know exactly what kind of game he’s playing, because they play it too.
Trump’s new skepticism of Israel isn’t some fluke. It’s what happens when politics starts to look more like business—and the biggest spenders are coming from the Gulf, not Jerusalem.
The Art of the Transaction: Trump’s Deal-Making DNA
Donald Trump doesn’t just like deals—he lives by them. From the moment he entered politics, he brought the same “Art of the Deal” mentality that defined his business career into the White House. Everything is negotiable, everyone has a price, and loyalty is always up for renewal if the terms change.
You can see this mindset in how he’s handled foreign policy. His support for moving the U.S. embassy to Jerusalem and brokering the Abraham Accords wasn’t just about old-school alliance-building. It was a clear calculation: both moves played perfectly with the evangelical base and mega-donors like Sheldon Adelson. In Trump’s world, that’s a win—deliver something high-profile to a key constituency, and expect something in return. As he wrote in his book, The Art of the Deal, “My style of deal-making is quite simple and straightforward. I aim very high, and then I just keep pushing and pushing and pushing to get what I’m after.”
But Trump’s transactional style isn’t limited to Israel. According to retired Lt. Gen. Keith Kellogg, “President Trump approaches diplomacy and engages in a very transactional manner, with economics as the foundation and driving force behind international affairs.” The result? Alliances are measured by leverage, not by friendship, and values take a back seat to the bottom line. He’s made it clear, publicly, that even the closest U.S. partners—Canada, Mexico, NATO—are only as valuable as what they bring to the table. “They’ve gotten richer, we’ve all gotten older. So I said, ’I’ll go if you pay a trillion dollars, $1 trillion to American companies,’” Trump said about making Saudi Arabia his first overseas visit of his new term.
This approach has real consequences. Trump has praised strongmen like Vladimir Putin for having “the cards,” and he’s quick to point out when allies don’t pull their weight. He’s threatened to withhold American defense if NATO members don’t pay up, paused aid to Ukraine to force a minerals deal, and imposed tariffs on Canada and Mexico when he felt the U.S. wasn’t getting a fair shake. As Kellogg recalled, Trump’s first question in meetings with foreign leaders was almost always, “What is the trade imbalance between our two nations?”
For Trump, it’s never just about legacy or tradition. It’s about what’s next, what’s in it for him, and how the ledger looks that day. The bottom line? When the deal changes, so does Trump.
Gulf Money and Business Ties: Following the Cash Flow
If you want to understand Trump’s shifting Middle East politics, you have to follow the money. Over the past several years, Trump and his inner circle have built a sprawling web of business connections with the Gulf States—Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and, increasingly, Qatar. The scale and depth of these financial ties are impossible to ignore, and they cast a long shadow over his foreign policy decisions.
Start with Qatar. Trump’s relationship with the Qataris goes back more than a decade. From 2008 to 2014, Qatar Airways, owned by the Qatari government, was paying rent to Trump Tower in Manhattan. This wasn’t just another commercial tenant—it was a direct link between Trump’s business and a foreign state. That lease ended years ago, but the connections didn’t. Last month, the Trump Organization inked its first major development deal in Qatar, partnering with Qatari Diar—a government-owned real estate giant—and Dar Global to launch a $5.5 billion luxury project just north of Doha. The project features the Trump International Golf Club Doha and a spread of Trump-branded beachfront villas. The Qatari Diar is owned by Qatar’s sovereign wealth fund, which means this isn’t just private business; it’s a partnership with the state itself.
The money flows in other directions, too. Steve Witkoff, a Trump ally, recently sold Manhattan’s Park Lane Hotel to the Qatar Investment Authority for $623 million—a deal that bailed him out of a troubled property and underscored just how deep Qatari money runs in top-tier U.S. real estate. Pam Bondi, Trump confidant and former Florida attorney general, lobbied for the Qatari government after leaving office, pulling in $115,000 a month from the Qatari embassy, according to federal filings. Her firm, Ballard Partners, worked to improve Qatar’s image in Washington ahead of the 2022 World Cup.
Then there’s Jared Kushner, whose private equity firm Affinity Partners raised over $1.5 billion from Qatar and the UAE after he left the White House. And let’s not forget the years-long saga of 666 Fifth Avenue, Kushner Companies’ distressed Manhattan property, which found financial relief thanks to a Qatar-linked firm.
These entanglements aren’t just old news, either. Lee Zeldin, now head of the EPA, disclosed consulting fees from a Qatari investment group. Kash Patel, who became FBI Director in 2025, worked as a consultant for the Qatari government until just before taking office, reportedly earning millions. In both cases, the relationships were significant enough that questions about conflicts of interest have lingered, but with Trump loyalists like Bondi and Patel overseeing federal law enforcement, there’s been little scrutiny.
The Saudi and UAE ties are just as glaring. Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund poured $2 billion into Affinity Partners, Jared Kushner’s fund. Trump’s golf courses became home turf for the Saudi-backed LIV Golf league, putting millions into his properties. The UAE, meanwhile, has shown a knack for partnering with Trump-branded ventures, and there are whispers of more real estate deals in the works.
All these connections add up to one thing: Trump and his family’s financial fortunes are now tightly bound to the Gulf, arguably more so than to Israel. These aren’t casual, one-off deals. They are deliberate, state-backed investments that create a whole new set of incentives for Trump. In a world where every relationship is transactional, the Gulf States have become some of Trump’s biggest business partners—and that reality is shaping the way he looks at the Middle East.
The Gulf States’ Own Transactional Playbook
If there’s anyone who gets Trump’s style, it’s the Gulf leaders. The Saudis, Emiratis, and Qataris are no strangers to transactional politics—they’ve spent decades leveraging oil, investment, and access to open doors in Washington. What sets Trump apart, from their perspective, isn’t his unpredictability, it’s that he’s unusually direct about what moves him: money, deals, and visible wins.
You could see this dynamic play out almost immediately after Trump left the White House. The Saudis, for example, wasted no time rolling out the red carpet for him and his circle. Their sovereign wealth fund didn’t just invest in Jared Kushner’s private equity venture—they dropped $2 billion into it, a sum even seasoned Wall Street insiders found astonishing. That wasn’t charity; it was a calculated investment in access and future influence. At the same time, Trump’s golf properties were suddenly prized hosting grounds for the Saudi-backed LIV Golf league, funneling millions of dollars directly into his businesses. For the Saudis, this wasn’t just about golf—it was about building a long-term, mutually beneficial relationship with a man who could be back in the Oval Office.
The playbook is pretty simple: make the benefits concrete, personal, and hard to ignore. Gulf leaders understand that Trump is not interested in abstract talk about democracy or “shared values.” They speak his language—lucrative contracts, grand projects, flattery, and the promise of more to come. The UAE, for instance, has long made a habit of wooing Western influencers and former officials, offering business opportunities and consulting gigs to those with the right connections.
Kushner’s windfall from the Gulf is another example. The Saudis and Emiratis knew how much personal capital Trump had invested in his son-in-law’s fortunes, both political and financial. By backing Affinity Partners, they weren’t just buying into a fund—they were investing in the family itself, and in future goodwill.
The message is clear: Trump isn’t just treated as a politician, he’s seen as a business partner. His loyalty—and, by extension, his political decisions—are perceived as negotiable, available for the right price. This isn’t a critique unique to Trump; it’s how the Gulf States have approached the West for years. But with Trump, the lines are especially blurry, and the transactions are especially transparent. For Gulf leaders, it’s a win-win: they get access and leverage, he gets the financial rewards and the validation he craves. And as long as the deals keep coming, everyone at the table knows exactly what’s expected.
How Gulf States’ Interests Have Shifted Away from Israel
Not long ago, the Gulf States and Israel seemed to be moving onto the same page. The Abraham Accords, brokered under Trump, looked like the start of a new era—a shared front against Iran, new economic ties, and the kind of public cooperation that once seemed unthinkable. The logic was straightforward: the Gulf monarchies and Israel both viewed Iran as their primary threat, and closer ties with the U.S. were the price of admission.
But that alignment hasn’t held up. The war in Gaza changed everything. As one Gulf analyst put it, “[The] war in Gaza has unified GCC [states] in terms of moral, political, and diplomatic solidarity with Gaza and the Palestinians.” Since the violence began, “the Gulf states have collectively expressed strong criticism of Israel and its close ally, the United States.” Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman went as far as accusing Israel of “collective genocide” in Gaza, describing his stance as “some of his strongest criticism of the Israeli government.”
The public stance has become unmistakable. In February, a Saudi official stated, “Saudi Arabia said it would not establish ties with Israel without the creation of a Palestinian state,” drawing a clear line on normalization. The kingdom also “categorically rejected” the suggestion by Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu that Saudi land could be used to establish a Palestinian state, calling the idea “completely unacceptable.”
At the same time, the Gulf’s approach to Iran is evolving. A Gulf official welcomed the new diplomatic opening, saying, “We welcome the agreement between Saudi Arabia and Iran to resume diplomatic relations, and we hail the Chinese role in this regard.” As another regional observer put it, “After decades of rivalry, Iran and Saudi Arabia have understood that it is in their mutual interest to normalize their relations.”
This shift matters for Trump, too. The transactional deals he’s cutting with the Gulf monarchies are happening against a backdrop where their interests no longer fully align with Israel’s. The Saudis and Emiratis want stability, economic growth, and the freedom to maneuver, not a blank check for whatever Israel does. Their investments in Trump and his circle aren’t about cementing a pro-Israel coalition; they’re about securing influence in Washington for their own agenda, which is now more complicated than ever.
The Political Calculation: Shifting Sands in the GOP
It’s not just Trump who’s changed—his party’s foreign policy DNA has, too. The old Republican consensus, rooted in neoconservative hawkishness and unwavering support for Israel, is fading fast. In its place is something more flexible, less sentimental, and much more transactional.
You can see it in the way the GOP base talks about foreign policy now. The old language of “forever alliances” and “shared values” has been replaced by questions about cost, benefit, and direct American interest. Polls show Republican voters are less interested in foreign entanglements than at any time since the Cold War. The Gaza war has only accelerated this trend: where once criticism of Israel was political suicide in GOP circles, now it’s not just tolerated, it’s mainstream. Trump himself has taken the lead, openly rebuking Israeli leaders and calling out what he sees as bad deals or ungrateful allies.
A big part of the story is the rise of what some call the “woke right”—a new breed of conservative influencers and media personalities who blend culture war rhetoric with a surprising skepticism, and sometimes outright hostility, toward Israel. In the social media ecosystem that shapes MAGA discourse, antisemitic tropes aren’t just fringe; they’re increasingly part of the conversation. Whether it’s conspiracy theories about globalist elites or open disdain for “foreign entanglements,” this undercurrent is hard to miss. Trump, ever the political barometer, doesn’t echo these messages directly but is acutely sensitive to the mood. He knows when to take a step back, let the base vent, and position himself as the candidate who’s not beholden to anyone—not Israel, not old donors, and certainly not the establishment.
For Trump, this is just more evidence that his instincts are right. He’s reading the room: the party’s center of gravity has shifted, and he’s moving with it. His message is clear—America’s support is not a blank check. If an ally wants help, they need to show what they’re bringing to the table. It’s not about “forever friends,” it’s about “what have you done for me lately?” The political cost for breaking with the old orthodoxy is lower than ever, and Trump is happy to cash in.
The Final Word On Trump’s Transactional Turn Against Israel
It’s striking how fast the landscape has shifted. Not so long ago, Trump’s love for Israel was an essential part of his public brand—the embassy move, the Abraham Accords, the applause from evangelical donors. Now, that enthusiasm has given way to skepticism, sharp criticism, and a clear pivot away from unconditional support. But this isn’t a flip-flop out of spite or ideology. It’s just Trump being Trump: reading the changing ledger of influence and money, and adjusting his position accordingly.
The Gulf States—Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Qatar—have emerged as the new power players in his world, pumping billions into ventures tied to him and his family, hosting events at his golf courses, and courting his closest advisers. They understand his transactional playbook better than anyone, speaking his language of deals, leverage, and tangible returns. With their interests diverging from Israel’s—especially as the Gaza war reshapes regional politics and Saudi-Iran rapprochement redraws old fault lines—the Gulf has become the real center of gravity for Trump’s Middle East strategy.
Meanwhile, the Republican Party itself is evolving. The old neoconservative consensus that demanded unwavering support for Israel is fading into memory. Today’s GOP base is more transactional, more skeptical of foreign entanglements, and more open to criticizing Israel without fear of political backlash. The rise of a new “woke right,” a faction blending culture war fervor with antisemitic undercurrents, has complicated the landscape further. Trump, always attuned to the party’s mood, isn’t parroting that rhetoric outright, but he knows when to let it simmer and when to position himself as the outsider who answers only to himself.
This is the new Middle East math: relationships built on dollars and deals, not on ideology or tradition. Trump’s shift is a preview of a broader realignment in American politics and foreign policy—a world where alliances are fluid, loyalties conditional, and influence bought as much as earned. What remains to be seen is whether this transactional approach is a Trump-era anomaly or the blueprint for the GOP’s future.
The relationship between Israel and the United States has always been built on values—shared history, democracy, and a mutual commitment to security. But those values are increasingly taking a backseat to calculations about what benefits the U.S. or its leaders can extract in the moment. When deals and dollars dictate policy, longstanding alliances become negotiable commodities.
This isn’t just about Trump’s personality or business empire. It signals a deeper shift in how American power is projected abroad and how domestic politics shape foreign policy. The GOP’s base is moving toward a more transactional worldview where loyalty is earned, not given; where support is conditional, not automatic. And as Gulf money flows into the pockets of American power brokers, the old certainties about America’s role in the Middle East—and who it stands with—will continue to blur.