By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
The New Battle for the Middle East Saudi
Arabia and Iran’s Clash of Visions
Many Middle Eastern
conflicts could reshape the global political order. However, the one most
likely to do so is the battle between the region’s two dominant powers: the
Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Islamic Republic of Iran. Although this rivalry
was once primarily viewed as an ethnic and sectarian conflict between the
predominantly Sunni Arab Saudis and the Shiite Persian Iranians, the key
dividing line today is ideological. The clash centers on their respective
strategic visions—Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030 and Iran’s Vision 1979. Each
vision dictates its respective country's internal policies and how it
deals with others.
Iran and Saudi
Arabia are both autocratic energy titans, collectively controlling nearly a
third of the world’s oil reserves and a fifth of its natural gas. Yet they are
led by starkly different men with profoundly different plans. The de facto leader
of Saudi Arabia, 39-year-old Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, known as MBS,
wants to rapidly modernize a state long steeped in Islamist orthodoxy and move
it away from its dependence on fossil fuel production. He created Vision 2030
to achieve those ends. The longtime leader of Iran, 85-year-old Supreme Leader
Ali Khamenei, remains dedicated to the ideological principles of Iran’s
Islamist revolution. Khamenei does not call his plan Vision 1979. But the name
can still aptly be applied since his vision is all about preserving the Iranian
Revolution’s ruthless commitment to theocracy.
These two countries
are historic rivals with irreconcilable goals. Vision 2030 appeals to national
aspirations, whereas Vision 1979 taps into national grievances. Vision 2030
seeks a security alliance with the United States and normalization with Israel;
Vision 1979 is premised on resisting the former and eradicating the latter.
Vision 2030 is propelled by social liberalization; Vision 1979 is anchored in
social repression.
Although they harbor
enormous mutual mistrust, Iran and Saudi Arabia are unlikely to fight
each other directly. Tehran and Riyadh struck a 2023 agreement to normalize
relations, lowering bilateral tensions. Their greatest challenge thus lies not
in confronting each other but in addressing their internal struggles. And here,
both have plenty to grapple with.
The Islamic Republic
of Iran’s problems are obvious. The country resembles the late-stage Soviet
Union, economically and ideologically bankrupt and reliant on brutality for its
survival. Beyond its borders, however, Tehran is more powerful than ever before
in its modern history. Iranian-backed proxies and militias dominate four
failing Arab states—Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, and Yemen—as well as Gaza. Tehran
also has an outsize effect on numerous global security issues, including
nuclear proliferation, Russia’s war in Ukraine,
cybersecurity, disinformation campaigns, and the weaponization of energy
resources.
Saudi Arabia’s
struggles are not as immediately apparent. Right now, MBS appears to enjoy
widespread support for having lifted social restrictions and for his country’s
strong economy. Yet the success of Vision 2030 will invariably depend on the
economic viability of its gigantic projects, and it will be challenged by lofty
public expectations, oil price volatility, corruption, and repression. It will
also be tested by disgruntled reactionary forces. The country still has a large
population of deeply conservative Islamists who are unhappy with MBS’s choices,
and they could create major problems for his government. Vision 2030, then, is
a high-risk, high-reward endeavor.
Whether either state
will succeed in sustaining its vision is not clear. What is clear is that the
fate of the two visions—one driven by change, the other defined by
resistance—will have consequences that extend far beyond either country. These
visions will shape not only whether the Middle East becomes more prosperous and
stable but whether the whole world does, as well.
The Legacy of 1979
Saudi officials like
to tell a story about their country and Iran. In the late 1960s, Shah Mohammed
Reza Pahlavi, Iran’s modernizing ruler, wrote to King Faisal of Saudi Arabia.
Faisal, the shah wrote, had to liberalize Saudi Arabia. Otherwise, he might be
overthrown.
The king strenuously
disagreed. In his response, Faisal suggested that it was Pahlavi—with his
secular, more European vision for society—who was actually at risk of being
deposed. “Your majesty, may I remind you, you are not the shah of France,” he
wrote back, adding: “Your population is 90 percent Muslim. Please don’t forget
that.’’
The king proved to be
right. In Iran’s 1979 revolution, protesters deposed Pahlavi and transformed
the country from a U.S.-allied monarchy into an anti-American theocracy.
Although a diverse coalition of forces opposed the shah, the man who emerged as
the leader of the revolution, the 76-year-old Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini,
believed that Western political and cultural influence posed an existential
threat to Iran and Islamic civilization. “All the things they used to pervert
our youth were gifts from the West,” the cleric said. “Their plan was to devise
the means to pervert both our men and our women, to corrupt them and thus
prevent them from their human development.” Khomeini died a decade later, but
his successor, Khamenei, has kept his vision alive.
As it happened, 1979
was also a pivotal year for Saudi Arabia. Islamist radicals, believing the
Saudi royal family had strayed from the path of true Islam, seized the Grand
Mosque in Mecca, helping to plunge the monarchy into an existential crisis.
Fearing that they would suffer the same fate as the shah, the Saudi government
abandoned modernization efforts and redirected vast resources to reactionary
forces at home and abroad. The country empowered fundamentalist clerics to
exercise control over education and the judiciary, expanded the morality
police, shut down movie theaters, and enforced strict gender segregation in
schools and public spaces. In exporting these policies, in part with U.S.
encouragement to counter the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia spent
tens of billions of dollars to fund thousands of mosques as well as jihadi
groups that became the antecedents of the Taliban and al Qaeda.
These policies
endured for 20 years. But the 9/11 attacks on
the United States in 2001—15 of the 19 hijackers were Saudi nationals—and the
deadly al Qaeda bombings in Riyadh in 2003 forced a course correction. Both
attacks exposed a harsh reality: Islamic fundamentalism, once perceived as an
asset, had evolved into a profound threat to the kingdom’s stability. The Saudi
government thus attempted to turn off its financial support for external
radicalism as well as embark on a costly domestic counter-radicalization
campaign. “We try to transform each detainee from a young man who wants to die
into a young man who wants to live,” said Prince Mohammed bin Nayef, then one
of the key architects of the Saudi counterterrorism strategy, in 2007.
But it was not until
more than a decade later, when MBS began his ascent to
power, that Saudi Arabia commenced its broader, international
transformation. One of more than a dozen children born to King Salman, MBS saw
an aging Saudi leadership that was overly reliant on oil and disconnected from
its young society. He worried his country was falling behind Qatar and the
United Arab Emirates, which were working to become transportation and trade
hubs with outsize influence in business, entertainment, sports, and media. In
response, MBS had the kingdom launch its agenda, Vision 2030, aimed at opening
the country economically, jettisoning Islamist restrictions, diversifying away
from oil, and building a national identity.
The vision’s
foundational document is centered on three themes—“a vibrant society, a
thriving economy, and an ambitious nation”—and has led to real policy shifts.
Beginning in 2018, Saudi women gained the right to drive and travel without a
male guardian’s permission. Their presence in the country’s labor force
increased significantly, including in senior government positions. The
government began investing tens of billions of dollars in plans for data
centers and in artificial intelligence and other types of technology. It
dramatically boosted youth entertainment—nearly two-thirds of Saudis are under
30—with Formula 1 races, wrestling tournaments, and the recruitment of soccer
stars such as Cristiano Ronaldo. New tourist rules were introduced to encourage
foreign visitors to explore the country and bring in revenue.
So far, these efforts
have had mixed results. Saudi Arabia has been among the world’s fastest-growing
major economies in the last several years, with significant growth in non-oil
sectors. Yet growth figures are still often tied to the price of oil. Similarly,
the Saudi Ministry of Investment has estimated that foreign direct investment
increased by over 150 percent from 2017 to 2023. One Saudi businessman,
however, told me that “non-oil FDI has gone nowhere.”
Two Men, Two Visions
Vision 1979 and
Vision 2030 reflect the personalities of Khamenei and MBS. The two men are
arguably the most powerful individuals in today’s Middle East, but they have
vastly different visions and leadership styles—the former’s based on historic
grievances, and the latter’s on modern ambitions. These differences are clear
in their animosity toward each other. MBS has called Khamenei the “new Hitler
of the Middle East,” and Khamenei has derided MBS as a “criminal” whose
“inexperience” will lead to Saudi Arabia’s downfall.
Both have unique
backstories. Khamenei was born into a clerical family of modest means, was educated
in a Shiite seminary, and spent his formative years as a revolutionary agitator
(including several as a political prisoner). Had the Iranian Revolution never
happened, he would have been destined for the life of a humble cleric. Instead,
he was catapulted to power, becoming Iran’s president in 1981 and supreme
leader in 1989. His hypervigilance, born of profound insecurity, has been one
of the keys to his longevity. Despite widespread popular discontent and a state
of near-permanent external crisis, Khamenei has not deviated from the
revolutionary ideals of his mentor, Khomeini. The ideological pillars of Iran’s
Vision 1979 remain as they were then: “Death to America, Death to Israel,” as
Khamenei’s supporters often chant, and the mandatory veiling of women, which
Khomeini once referred to as “the flag of the Islamic Revolution.”
In stark contrast,
MBS was born into immense wealth as a son of one of the world’s richest men,
King Salman bin Abdulaziz. Although MBS was born after 1979, he said that the
radicalism spawned that year “hijacked” Islam as a religion. He aspires for his
people to achieve modernity rather than martyrdom. “We will not waste 30 years
of our lives dealing with extremist ideas,” he once declared. “We will destroy
them today.’’ This decisiveness has sometimes led to grave misjudgments,
including the brutal 2018 murder of the journalist Jamal Khashoggi and the
devasting war in Yemen. Yet the crown prince has
retained the confidence of much of young Saudi society and the momentum of
Vision 2030.
One of the most
important differences between the Saudi vision and the Iranian one relates to
social freedoms. Iranians had long looked down on their Gulf Arab neighbors.
Khomeini once referred to the House of Saud as “the followers of the camel
grazers of Riyadh and the barbarians of Najd, the most infamous and the wildest
members of the human family,” and he denounced them in his last will. No matter
how reactionary their regime was, Iranians may have taken some comfort in
having more social freedoms than Saudis. But this is no longer the case. The
world’s most famous musicians regularly perform in Saudi Arabia, including top
Iranian singers whose music is banned in their homeland. Tens of millions of
Iranians get their news from Iran International, a Saudi-backed
Persian-language satellite news channel. After a 35-year ban, Saudi Arabia
reopened movie theaters in 2018. Social media apps are widely available. The
country has welcomed more tourists than ever before, while Iran has doubled
down on the practice of taking foreigners (often Iranian dual nationals) as
hostages.
The Amini
Case
The difference
between the two plans is particularly stark when it comes to the treatment of
women. Although Saudi women, once hidden from public life, continue to lag on
indices of equality, the advances they have made under MBS are real and
significant. Iranian women are better educated than their male counterparts and
have often risen to the top of their professions. Yet they are among the few in
the world who face more restrictions today than their grandmothers did five
decades ago, before the Islamic Revolution. This imbalance erupted during
Iran’s 2022 to 2023 “Women, Life, Freedom” protests, which were triggered by
the death in police custody of Mahsa Amini, a
22-year-old woman. She had been arrested for allegedly wearing her hijab
improperly. And Iran’s gen Z: The Driving
Force Behind The Protests.
But by the end of the
following year, it was clear their agenda was in trouble. The economy was in
free fall, and the hardliners were failing at the basic tasks of governance.
The domain in which they appeared most effective—enforcing mandatory veiling for
women—was making the state deeply unpopular. When a young woman named Mahsa
Amini died at the hands of the morality police in September 2022, after being
arrested for not wearing her hijab properly, Iran was racked with protests.
Iranian women made it clear they were tired of the state’s dress code and legal
control over their bodies. Staggering inflation and shrinking economic
opportunities further infuriated Iranians, young and old. The hard-liners
seemed to have transformed nagging dissent into open revolt. And so in May,
after Raisi was killed in a helicopter
crash, Khamenei saw a chance to correct course. Unlike in 2021, Khamenei
allowed a reformist, the parliamentarian Masoud Pezeshkian, to run for
president. Khamenei knew that if reformists were excluded, voter turnout would
be anemic, leading to another spate of unified hard-line control
that would erode the legitimacy of the Islamic Republic. Pezeshkian then
managed to secure a comfortable, if not overwhelming, victory.
Crude Power
The most dramatic
difference in outcomes between Vision 2030 and Vision 1979, however, is in the
effect on each state’s economy. Saudi Arabia has used its energy production to
fuel its strategic vision. As a result, the Saudis are far richer than their
Iranian counterparts by virtually every metric. Saudi Arabia has more than
twice the GDP of Iran despite having less than half its population. Iran’s
annual inflation rate is consistently among the world’s highest, and Saudi
Arabia’s is around two percent. Riyadh has over $450 billion in foreign
currency reserves, around 20 times what Tehran possesses.
There are many
reasons for Iran’s terrible economic performance. But they all relate to Vision
1979. Thanks to its hostility toward the West, Iran has come under heavy
sanctions that have crippled its foreign currency holdings and made it hard to
sell its main two commodities, oil and gas. In 1978, the year before the
revolution, Iran was producing almost six million barrels of oil per day,
roughly five million of which were exported. Since the revolution, Iranian
production and exports have averaged less than half these amounts. Although
Iran has the world’s second-largest reserves of natural gas, after Russia, it
does not rank among the world’s top 15 exporters. And Tehran has sought to use
the energy resources it does have as a weapon. In the aftermath of the Russian
invasion of Ukraine, Iranian officials repeatedly reminded an energy-strapped
Europe that “winter is coming’’ to try to threaten the continent’s leaders into
acceding to Tehran’s nuclear demands.
Yet the greatest
tragedy of Vision 1979 for Iran has been the waste not of its natural resources
but of its human resources. In 2014, Iran’s minister of science and technology
claimed that the country’s annual brain drain—estimated at 150,000 people leaving
annually—cost the economy a staggering $150 billion every year, more than four
times its oil revenue from 2023. In contrast, most of the estimated 70,000
Saudi students studying abroad return home when their studies are finished.
Vision 1979 often sees its country’s educated minds as a threat, but Vision
2030 treats them as an asset.
Saudi Arabia has
spent heavily on ambitious plans to modernize its economy, such as on the
introduction of smart cities. That includes its Neom project, focused on
creating a large urban area in the desert that could transform the kingdom into
a global technology hub and drive economic diversification. Although both
governments have built strong surveillance states, Tehran’s technology
innovations and investments have been employed mostly to repress its people,
arm its proxies, and attack its enemies.
Order vs. Disorder
Saudi Vision 2030 has
clearly outperformed Iran’s Vision 1979 in advancing the economic well-being
and satisfaction of citizens. But when it comes to international influence, the
story is very different. The Middle East’s regional power vacuums and chronic
instability are threats to Vision 2030, yet they have been boons to Vision
1979.
This difference makes
sense. Vision 2030 is contingent on building, whereas Vision 1979 is content
with destroying. The power vacuums and instability caused by the Lebanese civil
war, the Iraq war, and the 2011 Arab Spring have thus all furthered Iranian
ambitions, and Iranian influence has in turn deepened the disorder and chaos
across the Arab world. Although opinion polls have suggested that Saudi Arabia
enjoys significantly more popular support than Iran in the Arab world,
including in countries where Iran wields the most influence, Riyadh’s efforts
to counter Tehran’s ambitions—using hard power, soft power, or financial
co-optation—have largely failed.
Over the last two
decades, Iran and Saudi Arabia have been on opposing sides of the deadliest
conflicts in the Middle East. The two have backed rival groups in Iraq, Syria,
and Yemen, as well as in Lebanon and the Palestinian territories. In each
of these areas, Iranian-backed hard power prevailed. Saudi Arabia has largely
opted out or been defeated. The most humiliating of these defeats was in Yemen.
Between 2015 and 2019, Riyadh spent over $200 billion on military intervention
to counter the power grab of the Iranian-backed Houthis. That intervention
contributed to tens of thousands of civilian deaths. Yet it failed to weaken
the group. Today, the Houthis, whose slogans wish death to America and Israel,
not only remain entrenched in power but have also bottlenecked the global
economy, diverting an estimated $200 billion in trade by harassing ships in the
Red Sea (ostensibly to protest Israel’s war in Gaza).
As the Middle East’s
lone theocracy, Iran uses Islamist radicalism as an asset. Virtually all Shiite
radicals, from Lebanon to Pakistan, are willing to fight for Iran. Meanwhile,
most Sunni radicals, including al Qaeda and the Islamic State in Iraq and
Syria, also known as ISIS, seek to overthrow the government of Saudi Arabia
despite its Sunni lineage. In fact, Tehran has proved willing and able to work
with Sunni radical groups that share its opposition to Israel and the United
States. The current head of al Qaeda, Saif al-Adel, has resided mostly in
Iran for two decades.
Israel is one of the
biggest international points of contention between the two countries. Vision
2030 is open to normalization with Israel, whereas Vision 1979 is opposed to
Israel’s very existence. Iran was the lone country in the world that explicitly
praised Hamas’s invasion of Israel on October 7, 2023. Although it remains
unclear to what extent Tehran was involved in the planning of the operation,
Iran funds most of Hamas’s military budget, so U.S. officials have said Tehran
is “broadly complicit.” The attack succeeded in delaying, and perhaps
sabotaging, a Saudi-Israeli normalization agreement.
Friends in High Places
The outside countries
that will likely play the greatest role in determining the fate of these two
visions are the United States and China. Vision 2030 needs Washington as an
ally, but Vision 1979 wants it as an adversary. Vision 2030 is contingent on U.S.
security support, while Vision 1979 cannot survive without Chinese economic
support. An estimated 90 percent of Iranian oil exports are bound for China.
Given Iran’s economic
and strategic dependence on China, any U.S. strategy to counter Tehran’s
nuclear and regional ambitions will probably require some collaboration with
Beijing. There is reason to believe that such cooperation is possible despite
Beijing and Washington’s global competition. China and the United States
ultimately have common interests in the region: namely, political stability and
the free flow of trade and energy. (Russia, by contrast, benefits from regional
instability and tumult in the oil markets.)
Yet the United States
ultimately has even more in common with Saudi Arabia. American liberals may
historically be deeply ambivalent about the country, but the United States’
great-power competition with China and Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine
changed Washington’s perceptions. Once seen as a problematic partner, Saudi
Arabia is now viewed as a coveted ally. The possibility of a historic
Israeli-Saudi normalization agreement under the umbrella of a U.S.-Saudi
defense treaty ratified by the Senate will likely remain a signature aspiration
of any future American administration, Democratic or Republican.
In the current
environment, however, the domestic political costs to Saudi Arabia of a
normalization deal with Israel could outweigh the benefits of a U.S. security
umbrella. A public opinion poll conducted in November and December 2023 showed
that 95 percent of Saudis believed that Hamas did not kill Israeli civilians on
October 7; 96 percent of Saudis agreed that “Arab countries should immediately
break all diplomatic, political, economic, and any other contacts with Israel.”
These sentiments have forced MBS to increase his negotiating demands. He
recently declared that Riyadh would not establish diplomatic relations with
Israel before the “establishment of a Palestinian state.” MBS may be an
autocrat, but he cannot afford to be insensitive to public opinion. Egyptian
President Anwar Sadat, after all, was an autocrat. That did not prevent him
from being assassinated after normalizing relations with Israel.
Still, there is
reason to think that the Saudis will eventually strike a bargain with the
Americans and the Israelis. Despite Saudi Arabia’s vast commercial ties to
China and its friendship with Russia, it can count only on the United States to
protect it from external adversaries, and it needs such protection. The
September 2019 Iranian attacks on Saudi Aramco, Saudi Arabia’s national oil
company, exposed just how vulnerable the country and its vision are. In the
absence of U.S. security guarantees, Saudi Arabia could spend half a trillion
dollars over a decade to build Neom, intended to be 33 times the size of New
York City, and Iran and its proxies could destroy it in days with cheap
missiles and drones.
The Danger of Expectations
Numerous civil unrest
indices have ranked Iran among the least stable governments in the world. In
the past 15 years alone, Iran has experienced three major national uprisings—in
2009, 2019, and 2022—that brought millions of citizens into the streets. Yet
Khamenei is one of the world’s longest-serving autocrats, having ruled since
1989, and the regime has consistently defied predictions of its imminent
demise. History suggests, perhaps counterintuitively, that revolutionary
dictatorships are often more enduring than rapidly modernizing monarchies. As
the political scientists Steven Levitsky and Lucan Way have written,
revolutionary regimes born from “sustained, ideological, and violent struggle”
tend to endure because they destroy independent power centers, produce cohesive
ruling parties, and establish tight control over formidable security forces. In
Iran, all these factors apply, helping to shield the Islamic Republic from
elite defections and military coups. Up to now, the regime has consistently
crushed mass protests.
The past also
suggests that successful popular uprisings tend to happen not in states suffering
from constant deprivation, as Iran is, but in countries where improved living
standards create elevated expectations. As the social theorist Eric Hoffer has
written, “It is not actual suffering, but the taste of better things which
excites people to revolt.” Political reforms can also open the door to sudden
change, something Iran has studiously avoided. Machiavelli observed that
nothing “more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success than to
take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things.” For this reason,
Khamenei, a student of the fall of the Soviet Union, has been firmly committed
to the ideological principles of the 1979 revolution, believing that diluting
them would precipitate the Islamic Republic’s downfall.
For MBS, meanwhile,
the most applicable cautionary tale from history may be the experience of the
shah of Iran, a fellow modernizing leader who alienated key constituencies,
including the clergy, the bazaar, and intellectuals, that would conspire to
unseat him. Yet the lessons learned from the shah’s downfall are mixed. As the
historian Abbas Milani argued in his biography of the Shah, Pahlavi was too
authoritarian when he didn’t need to be and not authoritarian enough when he
needed to be.
Egyptian President Abdel Fattah El-Sisi, MBS, and
Bahraini King Sheikh Hamad bin Isa al-Khalifa in Sakhir, Bahrain, May 2024
For many Saudi
elites, the greatest fear is not a mass popular uprising like Iran’s 1979
revolution, but a targeted internal plot against the crown prince—a scenario
with historical precedent in the kingdom. In March 1975, King Faisal, another
modernizing monarch, was shot and killed by his nephew. This act of revenge was
motivated by the death of the assassin’s brother, an Islamist who had been
killed roughly a decade earlier while protesting Faisal’s introduction of
television in Saudi Arabia.
MBS has put his stamp
on the country’s leadership. He has faced down Saudi political and business
elites more than any leader in his country’s history. He downsized the royal
family, and his 2017 detention of hundreds of prominent Saudi businessmen at the
Ritz-Carlton hotel—called a “sheikhdown” in Western
tabloids—reportedly yielded over $100 billion in recovered assets.
But MBS may be
unaware of the hazards awaiting him. To avoid internal challenges, autocrats
often prioritize loyalty over competence when appointing advisers, creating an
echo chamber that results in dangerous blind spots. The shah, for example, was
bewildered by the anger against him and later lamented that he had been misled
by sycophantic aides who shielded him from the truth. MBS may already be
falling into this trap. One consigliere to the crown prince—a former European
head of state—privately told me that the longer MBS rules, the more confident
he becomes in his own judgment and the less need he feels to heed constructive
criticism.
MBS faces other
risks, as well. Ongoing judicial reforms in Saudi Arabia still lag behind
economic and social reforms (and international standards). Training a new
generation of secular Saudi lawyers and judges is a much more laborious process
than hiring foreign consultants to transform the economy and build cities of
the future. Many Saudi men feel resentment about losing power over women. This
uneven progress—rapid economic and social reform without concurrent political
reform—can also be a source of unrest. As Samuel
Huntington warned, political instability is commonly triggered by rapid
social change and the rapid mobilization of new groups into politics coupled
with the slow development of political institutions.
For now, MBS is
strong and seemingly popular. Although credible public opinion polling in Saudi
Arabia is rare, one November 2023 survey suggested that a solid majority of
Saudis have trust in their government. In contrast, a recent government poll in
Iran reported that more than 90 percent of the country’s citizens feel
dissatisfied or hopeless. Targeting prominent Saudi businessmen for corruption,
shrinking the entitlements of the royal family, imprisoning fundamentalist
clerics, and diminishing the religious police have all earned the crown prince
some support. Yet MBS has also cracked down on members of what should be his
natural constituency: Saudi liberals, including Khashoggi and the women’s
rights activist Loujain al-Hathloul. This could
backfire. “A social and economic reformation on overdrive is at too high a risk
of failure without the parallel legal and procedural transformation occurring
at the same pace and intensity,” warned Mohammed al-Yahya, a senior Saudi
Foreign Ministry official and friend of Khashoggi, after Khashoggi’s killing (and cut into pieces).
The murder of the
journalist no longer looms large inside Saudi Arabia. But it continues to taint
MBS’s reputation in the West. Externally, his most vociferous critics, much
like those of the shah, are Western liberals, many of whom liken him to the
Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein. In 2020, U.S. Senator Bernie Sanders, an
independent, even said that Saudi Arabia’s leaders were “murderous thugs” and
that the regime was “one of the very most dangerous countries on the face of
this earth.” Inside Saudi Arabia, however, the group more likely to eventually
challenge MBS’s authority is not liberals who believe he is undemocratic, but
Islamists who believe he is far too liberal. As the author David Rundell wrote,
“If a successor government came to power by the ballot, it would almost
certainly be an Islamist populist regime. . . . If a new government came to
power through violence, it would most likely be a jihadist organization such as
ISIS or al-Qaeda.”
Although the crown
prince is trying to turn the page on Islamic fundamentalism, he has not been
able to eliminate it wholesale. MBS “put the Wahhabis in a cage,” said the
Saudi author Ali Shihabi, referring to the country’s ultra-orthodox school of
Islam. Yet just as the Taliban bided their time for two decades in Afghanistan,
Saudi Arabia’s Islamists are dormant but not dead. In an interview with The Economist, one Saudi religious
commentator likened Islamist opponents of MBS to ants building an underground
kingdom. “The prince has closed their mouths,” he said, “but he hasn’t ended
their kingdom.”
White Elephants and Black Swans
Over the last
half-century, the Middle East has consistently defied the predictions of
forecasters. The whims of individual autocrats and the volatile mix of oil
wealth, religion, and great-power politics have made the region uniquely
vulnerable to black swan events with global ramifications. Those events include
Iran’s 1979 revolution, Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait in 1990, the September 11
terrorist attacks in the United States, the Arab Spring, the rise of the
Islamic State in Iraq and Syria, and the October 7 attacks in Israel.
In this context, the
future of both Vision 2030 and Vision 1979 will hinge on the fate of Saudi
Arabia’s and Iran’s leaders and the global energy demands that sustain their
ambitions. Should MBS’s grand projects become white elephants—costly,
unproductive endeavors—or should oil prices experience a prolonged decline,
rising public dissatisfaction may compel the Saudi crown prince to prioritize
regime stability over transformational reforms. Although MBS is young, he is
acutely aware of the occupational hazards that come with absolute rule,
including the unforeseen pressures that have brought down autocrats in the
past. The shah’s political downfall stemmed from myriad forces, but also partly
from a terminal cancer diagnosis that he concealed even from his family, which
undoubtedly impaired his decision-making during crises.
In Iran, meanwhile,
the future of the Islamic Republic and Vision 1979 remains uncertain beyond the
lifespan of the 85-year-old Khamenei. Although there is a possibility that
power may transfer smoothly to loyal clerics and military leaders committed to revolutionary
ideals, there is also a chance of a shift toward leadership that prioritizes
Iran’s national and economic interests over its revolutionary doctrine. Efforts
by some supporters of Mojtaba Khamenei, Khamenei’s 55-year-old son, and
potential successor, to compare him to Iran’s MBS are risible. But they suggest
that even Tehran’s younger-generation revolutionaries recognize that a
forward-looking vision is more appealing than a backward-looking one.
An Iranian missile next to a poster of Khamenei,
Tehran, October 2024
The success or
failure of these competing visions will have broad global ramifications. A
world in which Vision 2030 fails dramatically, leaving the vast energy
resources of both Saudi Arabia and Iran under the control of Sunni and Shiite
extremists, would make the Middle East and the global economy less prosperous
and stable. Conversely, if Iran’s post-Khamenei leadership prioritizes the
economic welfare and security of its people, Iran has the potential to one day
become a G-20 nation and a pillar of global stability.
The failed American
experiments in Afghanistan and Iraq, coupled with the failures of the Arab
Spring, have largely dispelled illusions among U.S. officials that Washington
can meaningfully shape, at least in a positive way, the politics of the Middle
East. It will be local actors who determine which visions prevail. But given
that Vision 2030 seeks to uphold the U.S.-led liberal world order and Vision
1979 seeks to defeat it, the United States has a vested interest in the success
of the former and the failure of the latter. It is also in the global economic
interest to see stable, prosperous governments in Saudi Arabia and Iran that
are at peace with one another and themselves. This means the world should help
the people of Iran move beyond an oppressive ideological regime that has caused
internal stagnation and regional unrest, and help Saudi Arabia navigate
political reforms that will help sustain its social and economic
transformation.
The best outcome for
the United States, the Middle East, and the world is
two sustainable, representative, forward-looking visions in both countries. The
worst outcome is two backward-looking regimes clinging to past grievances. The
former may be difficult to achieve. But the consequences of the latter would be
nothing short of catastrophic.
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