The U.S.-Saudi 123 Agreement departs from Washington's gold standard, raising questions over nuclear enrichment, regional proliferation and Israeli interests
On July 22, amid the ongoing war against Iran, U.S. and Saudi energy ministers announced a landmark peaceful nuclear cooperation agreement – a 123 Agreement negotiated intermittently over nearly two decades. Riyadh has long been eager to construct its own civilian nuclear power infrastructure. The motivation behind this ambition is twofold. Economically, Saudi Arabia (KSA) needs to diversify its energy mix, conserving oil reserves while establishing a fresh asset to position itself as a future nuclear energy supplier. Geopolitically, Riyadh seeks to preserve its leadership status within the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC). Notably, the United Arab Emirates (UAE) signed its own 123 Agreement years ago and built a functional nuclear power plant. Before the Feb. 28 war, intense regional rivalry between Riyadh and Abu Dhabi flared across Yemen, Sudan and Somalia. Above all lies the shadow of Iran’s nuclear program. During President Donald Trump’s first term, as Washington pursued the Abraham Accords to curb Iranian influence, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman made it explicitly clear: Saudi Arabia would demand whatever nuclear capabilities Iran acquired.
Observing these ambitions, Washington viewed nuclear cooperation as a potent bargaining chip to anchor a wealthy ally within the American sphere and align Riyadh with U.S. regional strategy. Yet negotiations proved notoriously tricky. Riyadh actively cultivated contacts with alternative partners, including Russia, China and Pakistan, to explore available options. These third-party alternatives appeared attractive precisely because Washington steadfastly demanded its strict "gold standard" for nuclear technology transfer. Before this deal, the U.S. had executed 123 Agreements with only two regional actors. The U.S.-Türkiye agreement remains a distinct case given Ankara’s NATO membership and strong non-proliferation record, even as Türkiye successfully diversified its civilian nuclear partnerships with Russia. However, when Washington concluded its agreement with the UAE, it imposed the gold standard: Abu Dhabi explicitly surrendered its Article IV rights to enrich uranium on its own soil.
Riyadh, by contrast, stubbornly rejected such restrictions. It is easy to grasp why Israel harbored profound anxieties over the direction of these U.S.-Saudi talks. Should the Kingdom secure permission for fuel-cycle activities via transferred U.S. technology, Tel Aviv feared a repetition of the Iranian precedent. Tehran, after all, initially received civilian nuclear technology under Dwight Eisenhower’s "Atoms for Peace" program, eventually leveraging that foundation into a highly sophisticated nuclear apparatus. To relieve Israeli fears, Washington insisted on gold-standard restrictions and framed Saudi-Israeli normalization via joining the Abraham Accords as an absolute prerequisite. This deadlock persisted through the first Trump administration, continued under former President Joe Biden, and extended into Trump’s second term, until the sudden breakthrough on 22 July.
Although the full text remains unreleased, reports indicate the agreement does not require Riyadh to renounce fuel-cycle options – enrichment and, crucially, reprocessing – both inherently linked to nuclear weapons development. Furthermore, Saudi Arabia signed without accepting robust safeguards, namely the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) Additional Protocol. Nor has Riyadh joined the Abraham Accords. In short, Washington has radically changed its non-proliferation policy in the Middle East.
Observer circles are asking why this paradigm shift occurred. Some view it as a sign of a broader, prospective nuclear arrangement between Washington and Tehran, without which the U.S. cannot secure the opening of the Strait of Hormuz. That is a vital requirement for its military objectives during this second round of escalation. Others argue the shift reflects Washington’s broader "burden-shifting" strategy, which necessitates granting critical technological capabilities to regional balance-holders beyond Israel. One recalls Trump’s earlier remarks regarding F-35 sales to Türkiye at the Ankara Summit. Saudi Arabia’s strategic weight was already evident during the Gaza Deal, within the Middle East Quad, and through its role as a global swing state in oil markets. Finally, heavily embroiled in the devastating conflict in Yemen, Riyadh faces multifront security vulnerabilities. Caught in a severe security dilemma, Saudi Arabia likely threatened to take its nuclear business elsewhere, and Washington simply chose not to lose a multibillion-dollar market. A combination of these factors likely accelerated the decision.
Yet a striking ambiguity remains. Just 24 hours after the ink dried, Trump posted on social media, introducing new conditions without referencing the legal text directly. His renewed insistence on Saudi-Israeli normalization reflects the intense backlash from Israeli policy circles. Tel Aviv openly questioned the logic of fighting a war against Iran only to permit another state in the region to acquire nuclear technology capabilities. Through these posts, Trump attempted to reassure critics that the U.S. still prioritizes Israel’s security above all. In the same message, Trump cited Iran and the UAE as benchmarks for Saudi Arabia’s nuclear future, even though the UAE agreement set the original gold standard, and Washington is currently bombing Iran to force compliance with similar restrictions.
Whether a social media post can alter a legally binding document remains doubtful, but Congressional review lies ahead. The Saudis have undoubtedly received a stark reminder of how volatile dealing with a superpower during a security crisis can be. Nonetheless, a signed technology-sharing document exists, and every American ally in the region is watching closely to see what Riyadh ultimately extracts.