
Imran Nasir Sheikh
Imran Nasir Sheikh is a seasoned naval aviator with extensive operational experience in maritime surveillance and anti-submarine warfare. He is currently pursuing a PhD in Defence and Strategic Studies at Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad, where his research focuses on the nuclear threat dynamics in the Indian Ocean Region. His work explores the intersection of undersea deterrence, regional power projection, and sea-based stability mechanisms in a contested littoral environment.
Asim Riaz
Asim Riaz holds an M.Phil in Strategic Studies from the National Defence University, Islamabad, with degrees in Energy Management and Mechanical Engineering. With a distinguished career spanning over 20 years, he brings expertise in the energy sector, geopolitics, and addressing non-traditional security threats.
On September 17, 2025, Saudi Arabia and Pakistan signed a historic mutual defense pact, marking the first formal agreement of its kind between two Muslim-majority states. The text is unequivocal: any aggression against one will be treated as an attack on both. For Riyadh and Islamabad, the pact is not merely ceremonial. It is a statement of intent at a moment when Gulf security has never looked more fragile and when old assurances from Washington no longer carry the weight they once did.
It is difficult to overstate the significance of Saudi Arabia’s decision to sign a mutual defense pact with Pakistan. The agreement, explicit that an attack on one will be treated as an attack on both, signals a rupture in the Gulf security architecture. For decades, Saudi Arabia functioned as a U.S. client state, anchoring its safety in American guarantees; by turning to Pakistan, Riyadh delivers a symbolic and strategic rebuke to that model, asking why others should rely on U.S. protection if it cannot be assured. In practical terms, Saudi Arabia no longer treats Washington as its sole security guarantor. Other Gulf states and perhaps other U.S. partners may follow, accelerating a shift toward regionalized pacts that erode the foundations of the U.S.-led alliance system.
The Doha strike is an unavoidable part of the backdrop. An Israeli precision attack inside Qatar on September 9 did more than kill specific targets; it punctured the long-standing assumption that a mediator’s capital would be treated as a safe venue. When a city that hosts negotiations becomes part of the battlespace, every capital in the Gulf takes note. It also cast doubt on U.S. commitments, since Israel acted despite America’s central military presence in Qatar. The region’s security umbrella, long identified with American power, suddenly looked full of holes. In that climate, the Saudi–Pakistan pact looks like an act of self-help, a way to internalize deterrence rather than outsource it.
For Riyadh, the logic is plain: diversify away from single-point dependence, add a partner with combat-experienced forces, and align more tightly with a nuclear-armed state without crossing the nuclear threshold itself. For Islamabad, the pact offers strategic depth, diplomatic ballast, potential financing, and assured energy access from a critical supplier. It is the classic trade that states make when the system feels unpredictable; one hand washes the other. The signal to adversaries is that probing one flank may trigger a response from two capitals rather than one.
The pact is historic and timely for three reasons (Mushahid, 2025). First, it reflects the depth of Arab disillusionment with American reliability. When Israel struck Doha, the U.S. publicly distanced itself, but many Gulf leaders saw only complicity or indifference. It was the kind of betrayal that leaves allies in the lurch, forcing them to look elsewhere. Second, the pact emerges against the backdrop of Israel’s unchecked regional campaigns. From Gaza to Lebanon, from Yemen to Iran, and now to Qatar, Israel has operated with relative impunity,
often with tacit U.S. approval. Each strike has chipped away at the architecture of Gulf sovereignty, making alternative security arrangements not only logical but inevitable. Third, Pakistan’s military performance in May 2025 against India provided the credibility needed to anchor such a pact. In a short but intense conflict, Pakistan downed Indian Rafales and claimed tactical gains, showing it could stand toe-to-toe with a larger adversary. For Saudi Arabia, this was proof that Pakistan is not just a symbolic partner but one with demonstrated will and skill.
It exemplifies classical realist balancing in an anarchic international system, where states hedge against uncertainty by diversifying alliances and converting informal ties into institutionalized commitments. Riyadh has clearly concluded that it can no longer rely exclusively on U.S.-backed security guarantees, particularly in light of perceived American unreliability and Israel’s unchecked regional actions. By forging this mutual defense pact with nuclear-armed Pakistan, Saudi Arabia is pursuing a multifaceted strategy: deterring external aggression through implicit strategic reassurance, while projecting a narrative of self-reliant unity within the Muslim world. In doing so, Riyadh seeks not only to counterbalance threats from Iran and Israel, but also to reposition itself within an increasingly multipolar order, where credibility is earned through visible commitments rather than rhetorical assurances.
The consequences are far-reaching. Saudi Arabia now benefits from Pakistan’s nuclear umbrella. This is no small development, given that Pakistan has never adopted a no first use posture, leaving open the possibility of preemptive employment. With the pact described by senior Saudi officials as a “comprehensive defensive agreement that encompasses all military means,” the Middle East now effectively hosts two nuclear-backed blocs: the U.S.– Israel partnership on one side and the Saudi–Pakistan alignment on the other.
Viewed through a strategic-nuclear lens, the agreement ties Saudi security to Pakistan’s deterrent architecture while allowing Riyadh to avoid the political and technical costs of developing its own arsenal. By yoking their defenses, potential adversaries must now factor Pakistan’s estimated 170 warheads and associated delivery systems into any Gulf contingency, even though operational control remains firmly in Islamabad. This extension of deterrence is not without risk: the absence of a declared no first use commitment, limited transparency in command-and-control, and the perception of Saudi Arabia as a nuclear- backed actor could alter regional threat calculations. The result is a posture that may deter direct aggression yet simultaneously heightens the potential for misperception, escalation, and crisis instability.
The implications extend further. Pakistan sources the overwhelming majority of its arms from China, which means Saudi Arabia has, by extension, tied itself more closely to the Chinese military-industrial complex. This effectively extends the China–Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) to the Persian Gulf, linking Saudi energy to Chinese markets through a secure land- sea corridor backed by Pakistani nuclear protection and Chinese defense technology—an
alternative route that bypasses the Strait of Malacca and strengthens Beijing’s long-term energy security.
This development also carries direct political consequences. Any prospect of Saudi–Israeli normalization now appears more remote, given that Pakistan does not recognize Israel and Riyadh now possesses greater leverage to resist U.S. pressure on this front. India, too, faces new dilemmas: its chief rival has become the security guarantor of one of its primary energy suppliers, complicating both energy strategy and broader regional calculations. Moreover, Washington’s plans to advance the India–Middle East–Europe Economic Corridor, envisioned as a counter to China’s Belt and Road Initiative, may have been dealt a fatal blow.
There is also a monetary dimension. The U.S.–Saudi “petrodollar” arrangement, in which oil was priced exclusively in dollars in exchange for U.S. protection, has been under strain for years. With its security diversified and nuclear-backed, Riyadh is now more flexible in denominating its oil sales in other currencies, eroding yet another pillar of American global dominance.
Taken together, these shifts point to a systemic realignment. The Saudi–Pakistan pact is not just a bilateral arrangement; it is a signal that the U.S.-anchored order is giving way to a multipolar reality, in which regional nuclear powers act as guarantors of security and non- Western coalitions gain growing influence. For those still debating whether the world has entered a post-American era, the answer now appears undeniable.
Zalmay Khalilzad cautioned that binding a nuclear-armed Pakistan to Gulf defense risks hardening nuclearized deterrence linkages and underscored the need for Washington to pursue greater transparency, clearly defined triggers, and dedicated crisis hotlines with both capitals to mitigate the risk of miscalculation. He framed the pact as a visible symptom of eroding U.S. influence in the region and urged the development of coordinated messaging with European and Gulf partners to help stabilize expectations and preserve a measure of strategic predictability.
India’s public response has remained cautious. Following the September 17, 2025 Saudi– Pakistan Strategic Joint Defense Agreement, the MEA noted on September 18 that it would examine the pact’s implications for national security and regional stability, while Riyadh assured New Delhi that bilateral strategic and economic ties remain unaffected. India may pursue detailed clarifications from Riyadh on triggers, command arrangements, or the scope of the Saudi–Pakistan pact, but available reporting so far points more toward quiet internal reviews than overt diplomatic démarches. Likewise, suggestions of shifts in western-front force posture, expanded Arabian Sea surveillance, or accelerated procurement of air- defense and long-range strike systems remain unsubstantiated in open sources and are better assessed as forward-looking analysis rather than confirmed developments.
None of this is costless. A mutual defense clause widens the circle of obligations and, with it, the set of scenarios that can drag one partner into another’s crisis. If a missile or drone originating from Houthi-held territory lands in Saudi Arabia, is Pakistan expected to respond directly, act through interdiction and intelligence support, or limit itself to diplomacy and logistics? If the India–Pakistan frontier ignites, how will Saudi Arabia calibrate between a treaty commitment and a complex commercial relationship with New Delhi? The pact’s text will not answer questions of thresholds and rules of engagement; only habits of cooperation, force readiness, and crisis channels can do that.
The Doha shock matters here because it blurred more than just geography; it blurred the political boundary between war and negotiation. When those categories overlap, de- escalation becomes harder, and the burden on regional crisis management increases. The Saudi–Pakistan agreement is, in part, a response to that new friction. It is also a bet that a visible, codified bond will raise the political cost of cross-border adventurism, especially by proxies. Whether that bet pays off depends on implementation: joint exercises, interoperable communications, aligned air-defense concepts, and pre-agreed playbooks for gray-zone probes will determine whether adversaries see a real shield or just a promise.
The United States remains central to the Gulf’s security ecosystem, but the pact underscores the dilemma Washington has created for itself. Public assurances continue, yet the perception persists that sovereignty breaches are tolerated when conducted by favored actors. That mix undercuts confidence among partners whose basing rights, overflight permissions, and logistical allowances are the arteries of American power projection. There is a risk of burning the candle at both ends, trying to appease Gulf partners with rhetoric while indulging operational preferences elsewhere, and ending up with less leverage in both places.
In the broader strategic canvas, China’s Global Security Initiative is increasingly viewed as an attempt to shape the rules of engagement and elevate its credibility as a security contributor, particularly in regions like the Middle East where it seeks influence without direct military entanglement. Rather than building bases or projecting force, Beijing appears poised to expand its footprint through economic partnerships, diplomatic mediation, and security cooperation agreements, contributing to a rebalancing in which non-Western coalitions gain greater weight across the global South. The deepening of trade ties, expansion of transport and financial linkages, and even joint naval drills underline China’s steady positioning as a central actor in a multipolar security landscape that now includes emerging alignments like the Saudi–Pakistan defense pact.
At the same time, the rise of a Muslim bloc led by ambitious regional leaders carries both promise and peril. History offers stark reminders of the personal risks borne by reformers who attempt to reorder the balance of power, with the assassination of King Faisal in 1975 often cited as a cautionary tale of how internal dissent and external rivalries can converge with tragic consequences. Today, leaders seeking to redefine sovereignty and autonomy in the Gulf face
similar hazards. Yet the momentum is unmistakable: the United States has undermined its own credibility by allowing Israeli actions—most notably the strike in Doha—to puncture the assumption of sanctuary, leaving allies to question the value of American security guarantees. The result is a more fluid and unpredictable alignment of interests, where regional coalitions are no longer content to outsource their defense. This could put frameworks such as the Abraham Accords and Washington’s long-standing foothold in the Gulf under new pressure, as shifting power balances reshape the contours of Middle Eastern order.
There is also a normative dimension that should not be ignored. The Doha strike recast narratives. Qatar morphed in regional discourse from “protected convenor” to “violated mediator”, and Israel, in many quarters, was framed as a boundary-breaker rather than a state operating strictly in self-defense. Narratives are not window dressing; they shape domestic audience costs and coalition management. In that sense, the Saudi–Pakistan pact is as much a narrative instrument as a military one. It communicates solidarity, agency, and burden-sharing within the Islamic world.
The pact exemplifies classical realist balancing in an anarchic international system, where states hedge against uncertainty by diversifying alliances and institutionalizing commitments to enhance credibility. Riyadh has concluded that it can no longer depend exclusively on U.S.- backed guarantees to safeguard its sovereignty, particularly in the wake of perceived American unreliability and Israel’s unchecked regional actions. By forging this defense partnership with nuclear-armed Pakistan, Saudi Arabia is pursuing a multifaceted strategy: deterring external aggression through implicit strategic reassurance, while projecting a narrative of self-reliant unity within the Muslim world. In doing so, Riyadh seeks not only to counterbalance threats from Iran and Israel, but also to reposition itself within an increasingly multipolar order, where the credibility rests less on rhetoric and more on visible, enforceable commitments.
In the near term, three pathways are possible. The first is stabilization through symbolism: the pact remains unused but visible, forcing recalculations by adversaries. The second is incremental hardening, where Riyadh and Islamabad integrate air defense, run joint maritime patrols, and pursue legal coordination to raise the costs of extra-territorial strikes. The third is the stress test: escalation in Gaza or Lebanon, a Houthi launch that lands in the wrong place, or an India–Pakistan flare-up. In that scenario, credibility will be judged in hours and days, not communiqués.
Ultimately, the pact represents the beginning of a fragile new order. It underscores how quickly loyalties shift when trust is broken, how fragile sovereignty becomes when sanctuaries are breached, and how regional actors adapt when great powers stumble. It also raises profound questions: is this the dawn of a new Muslim-world security bloc, or a house of cards built on shifting sands?
The agreement is both a shield and a gamble, reflecting the dual-edged nature of alliances in a volatile geopolitical landscape. It strengthens deterrence by signaling that aggression against one party may trigger a coordinated response, amplifying Pakistan’s nuclear-backed posture alongside Saudi Arabia’s financial and diplomatic weight. Yet the risk of entrapment remains, where unity on paper could pull one state into conflicts the other is ill-prepared to sustain. At the same time, the pact projects solidarity within the Muslim world and underscores a growing desire for autonomy from fading American guarantees.
While underlying vulnerabilities persist, from Pakistan’s fragile economy to Saudi Arabia’s reliance on external arms suppliers, the agreement recalibrates perceptions of agency and resilience in the Gulf. In a region still reeling from the Doha strike and beset by flashpoints from Gaza to Yemen, the pact carries the potential to move beyond symbolism. If backed by credible preparation and disciplined cooperation, it could evolve into a bridge to stability, restoring confidence in collective security and offering a more self-reliant Gulf order. But if left hollow, it risks becoming a fragile promise that invites testing. Its true legacy will depend on whether bold declarations are matched by sustained commitment and credible action.