U.S. President Donald Trump lands in Riyadh this May, he is expected to unveil a colossal arms package valued at approximately US$100 billion—a bold reaffirmation of American support for one of its most important Middle Eastern allies. The deal promises to strengthen Saudi Arabia’s military with a suite of advanced U.S. weaponry, including tactical transport aircraft, precision-guided munitions, radar systems, and more. But one item will be conspicuously missing from the list: the F-35 Lightning II.
Despite persistent Saudi efforts to acquire the fifth-generation stealth fighter, the Lockheed Martin-built jet remains off-limits. The decision underscores the enduring sensitivity surrounding arms transfers in a region where technological advantage often equates to strategic supremacy.
At the heart of Washington’s reluctance lies a long-standing U.S. commitment to preserving Israel’s “Qualitative Military Edge” (QME)—a doctrine embedded in American law since the Camp David Accords of 1979. For Israel, the introduction of another F-35 operator in the Arab world would constitute an unacceptable threat to its air superiority and deterrence posture. Saudi Arabia’s pursuit of the F-35 is, in this context, not just a military objective but a geopolitical statement—and one that continues to provoke deep unease in Tel Aviv.
According to defense and diplomatic sources familiar with the upcoming package, Trump’s new deal with Saudi Arabia will largely echo proposals made during his first term. That includes extensive participation from U.S. defense giants like Lockheed Martin, Boeing, RTX Corp (formerly Raytheon Technologies), Northrop Grumman, and General Atomics. The companies are expected to supply tactical airlift platforms like the C-130 Hercules, air defense systems, and precision-guided weapons.
One senior source, who spoke on condition of anonymity, noted that while discussions on the F-35 are ongoing at high diplomatic levels, a deal remains “highly unlikely” to materialize during Trump’s visit.
This massive arms transaction also follows a failed attempt by the Biden administration to structure a broader security framework with Riyadh. Under that effort, Saudi Arabia would have been granted access to more advanced U.S. platforms in exchange for limits on its defense partnerships with China and steps toward normalizing relations with Israel. But that initiative fell apart amid unresolved disagreements on nuclear policy, human rights, and regional diplomacy.
Trump’s reengagement with Saudi Arabia may signal a return to transactional geopolitics—one that prioritizes defense sales and regional balancing over values-based diplomacy. But without the F-35, Riyadh’s airpower modernization goals remain partially out of reach.
The F-35 Lightning II is more than just an aircraft. It’s the most advanced multirole fighter in the world, offering unmatched stealth, electronic warfare capabilities, and network-enabled operations. With sensor fusion, real-time data sharing, and the ability to conduct deep-penetration strikes, the F-35 sets the standard for 21st-century aerial warfare.
For Saudi Arabia, acquiring the F-35 is about more than military performance. It’s a symbol of global prestige and strategic alignment with Washington. Possessing the jet would not only solidify Riyadh’s status as the Gulf’s preeminent military power but also send a clear signal to regional rivals like Iran and Qatar.
Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman views the F-35 as essential to his Vision 2030 blueprint—a national transformation plan that envisions a modern, tech-savvy Saudi military fully integrated with U.S. and Western defense ecosystems. But that vision is increasingly at odds with political realities in Washington.
Israel’s objection to a Saudi F-35 acquisition is neither new nor subtle. Despite behind-the-scenes security coordination between Riyadh and Tel Aviv—especially in countering Iran—Israel remains vehemently opposed to any sale of fifth-generation stealth fighters to Arab states.
Israeli officials argue that introducing the F-35 into Saudi Arabia’s arsenal would erode their strategic advantage. Tel Aviv’s fleet of F-35I “Adir” jets is heavily modified with Israeli-developed systems for electronic warfare, command and control, and custom weapons integration. This tailored configuration allows Israel to maintain a distinct operational edge.
The fear is that if Riyadh operates the same platform, Israel’s ability to project force or respond to regional threats would be diluted. More critically, Israeli security experts worry that advanced U.S. technology could fall into the wrong hands—especially if Riyadh’s warming ties with China and Russia deepen.
Despite shared interests today, Israel sees no guarantee that Saudi Arabia will always align with U.S. or Israeli strategic goals. In a region prone to rapid political shifts and power realignments, the possibility of sensitive technologies being exposed or reverse-engineered cannot be dismissed.
Approving a Saudi F-35 purchase wouldn’t just strain Israel—it could trigger a cascade of demands across the region. Qatar, Egypt, Jordan, and even the UAE (which itself was previously denied the F-35 under the Biden administration) could press Washington for equal treatment.
The U.S. would then face a dilemma: refuse and risk alienating key security partners, or approve and further destabilize the already fragile military balance in the Middle East. Either option carries serious consequences.
Israel’s longstanding doctrine is clear: qualitative—not just quantitative—superiority is the foundation of its defense strategy. Letting Riyadh close that gap could set off an arms race in which technological advantage rapidly becomes a regional commodity, rather than a privilege reserved for Washington’s most trusted partner.
Despite the U.S. rejection (for now), Riyadh’s interest in the F-35 isn’t likely to wane. Saudi defense planners view the jet not just as a tool for today’s threats but as a guarantee of relevance for the next 30 years.
With Iran continuing to expand its drone and missile capabilities, and proxy conflicts stretching from Yemen to Lebanon, the need for cutting-edge airpower has never been greater. The F-35’s ability to operate undetected in hostile environments would dramatically enhance Saudi Arabia’s deterrent posture and its ability to conduct preemptive or retaliatory strikes.
There’s also the matter of prestige. Among GCC states, possessing the F-35 would confer enormous symbolic power. For Mohammed bin Salman, who seeks to reshape Saudi Arabia’s image on the global stage, having the world’s most advanced fighter jet in his arsenal would be both a military and diplomatic victory.
Further complicating U.S. considerations is Riyadh’s growing relationship with China. Beijing has already supplied Saudi Arabia with drones, ballistic missiles, and surveillance technology, and has invested heavily in the kingdom’s infrastructure and energy sectors.
American policymakers worry that introducing highly classified F-35 technology into a country with expanding ties to China poses unacceptable espionage risks. Even with stringent safeguards, the possibility of Chinese access—either through direct cooperation or cyber intrusion—cannot be ruled out.
This is a key reason the Biden administration’s normalization framework included restrictions on Chinese military investments. The failure of those talks removes a major confidence-building measure and leaves open the question of how to reconcile U.S. defense goals with Saudi Arabia’s increasingly diversified partnerships.
Trump’s forthcoming arms deal with Saudi Arabia will undoubtedly strengthen bilateral ties and bolster Riyadh’s military capability. But by excluding the F-35, it also reaffirms the geopolitical boundaries within which those ties operate.
The decision reflects more than just Israeli influence. It signals a broader hesitancy in Washington to further militarize a volatile region, especially when long-term political alignments are uncertain.
Yet, as the Middle East evolves, pressure to revisit the F-35 question will only grow. Whether under Trump, Biden, or a future administration, the calculus will remain the same: balancing Israel’s qualitative edge, managing regional stability, and safeguarding U.S. technological supremacy.
