RIYADH—Even as Houthi missiles rain down on Saudi Arabia, there is an eerie calm in Riyadh. King Fahd Road, the capital’s main artery, is jammed with traffic. Chic women sip Japanese matcha in French cafes, designer American labels peeking out from under their abayas. At a glance, Riyadh feels like business as usual: a buzzing metropolitan coming into its own. An outsider might never guess that the airport is closed for the foreseeable future, that schools and many offices have gone remote, or that we were awakened last night by text alarms and the boom-boom-boom of intercepts.
In just three days, Riyadh’s international airport was attacked not once but three times, leaving at least twelve people dead and more than three hundred injured. This, despite a growing network of security partners and commitments to military assistance. But Saudis have waited decades for the new Saudi Arabia. They will not let it go quietly.
New friends, same problems
Saudis have spent the past decade working to diversify not only their economy, but also their diplomatic and security relationships. As relations with the United States have fluctuated and their Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) neighbors increasingly shifted from partnership to rivalry, Riyadh has turned elsewhere. The Saudis have made notable diplomatic overtures to China and Russia and sought renewed defense agreements with the French, Italians, and British, all to supplement US support.
More recently, Saudi Arabia entered into the highly publicized Mecca Agreement with Pakistan and Turkey. Signed in August, the NATO-lite pact declares that an attack on one is an attack on all. It was meant to strengthen deterrence and signal strategic realignment. Just two months later, Houthi attacks on Saudi Arabia have put the agreement to its first real test. So far, however, the impact has been lackluster.
Pakistan had already deployed roughly eight thousand troops, a squadron of fighter jets, drones, and a Chinese-made air-defense system to Saudi Arabia months before the agreement was signed. The day after the attacks, Islamabad promised to deploy additional forces, but has not specified how many and so far has publicly ruled out a deployment to Yemen. Turkey, for its part, is supplying Saudi Arabia with air defense equipment, intelligence, drones, and other technical assistance, but its parliament has yet to ratify the agreement. Despite strong statements of solidarity, neither country is willing to commit to a broader military campaign in Yemen it remains unclear how far their contributions have been integrated into Saudi Arabia’s broader air-defense architecture.

US support, meanwhile, runs wide and deep, and US officials are quick to remind you of that. Washington provides weapons, training, technical support, and intelligence that are indispensable—indeed, irreplaceable. US-supplied Patriot and Terminal High Altitude Area Defense (THAAD) systems are central to Saudi missile defense. In the past two years, Washington has been piling on support. In May 2025, for example, Washington announced a $142 billion defense sales package. Six months later, it signed another Strategic Defense Agreement with the country. At the start of this year, Washington formally designated Riyadh a major non‑NATO ally.
Yet none of this amounts to a binding American security guarantee. As Houthi attacks mount and interceptor stocks dwindle, that distinction is costing Saudi lives.
Europe is playing a small part, too—but one that also falls far short of a security guarantee. Instead, several European partners have offered specialized assistance. The Italians have deployed air-defense systems to the kingdom, alongside the Americans. The French have started to station troops in Yambo to defend energy infrastructure, while the United Kingdom is providing air-to-air refueling. These efforts are also integrated with American efforts.
Yet for all this support, Saudi Arabia has suffered some of the deadliest Houthi attacks on its soil in years.
Many analysts would argue that Saudi Arabia has the best military kit in the region, second only to that of Israel. So why are missiles still getting through? The attack raises questions about whether Saudi Arabia’s command-and-control systems were overwhelmed by the volume of threats. Some reports point to the evolving sophistication of Houthi attacks and their ability to penetrate radar and interceptor defenses. Even the most advanced air defense systems are not foolproof—as evidenced by Hamas’s penetration of Israel’s airspace throughout Israel’s war in Gaza. But repeated failures to protect critical infrastructure like an airport are unprecedented for the country.
The situation is likely only to deteriorate. In September, six months after the Iranians had struck the US embassy in Riyadh, the kingdom reportedly requested additional air-defense deployments from France, the United Kingdom, Pakistan, and Egypt, amid dwindling missile interceptor stocks. None obliged. The problem is only worsened by the United States’s own dwindling supply of interceptors.
So far, there has been one key limitation across all of Saudi Arabia’s partnerships: none has been willing to join an offensive operation inside of Yemen, at least not openly. Riyadh is already backing a Yemeni government ground offensive against the Houthis announced October 5 with airstrikes. The United States is providing intelligence, and Pakistan and Turkey supply equipment. Each is likewise prepared to offer defensive help on Saudi soil, but there is little appetite for a ground invasion. That is a problem because defensive support alone cannot eliminate the Houthis’ capacity to launch further attacks.
That could, of course, change. US President Donald Trump has said he is going to “look at” joining Saudi strikes against the Houthis. But having ruled out additional strikes on Iran before the midterm elections, he seems unlikely to open another militarily front in the region before then.
Regardless, military action alone is unlikely to resolve the threat. The Houthis have survived decades of military pressure and still retain substantial territorial control, from which they extended some control over the Bab el-Mandeb strait in September. The group also has very little to lose, unlike Saudi Arabia, whose image of stability is central to its economic transformation.
So, can stacking security partnerships deliver the security Saudi Arabia apparently wants?
Not on its own.
Riyadh has to shift from collecting security partnerships to integrating them, including through stronger coordination mechanisms. It also needs greater clarity about what each partner is willing to do when the country comes under attack, rather than relying on overly broad diplomatic statements.
For its part, Washington should prioritize restoring both its own defensive capabilities and those of its key ally in the Gulf. It should also demonstrate greater leadership in the region by helping Saudi Arabia coordinate and integrate its expanding network of security partners.
Ultimately, the threat posed by both the Houthis and Iran is unlikely to be resolved militarily. A secure Saudi Arabia will require a combination of deterrence and diplomacy. So far, the country has succeeded in diversifying its security partnerships; the harder task is turning those diplomatic wins into security on the ground. If Saudi Arabia’s Rumspringa is to continue apace, Riyadh will need to ensure the safety of its citizens and the foreigners it hopes to attract. This is not only so that it can play host to grand spectacles such as the Expo and the World Cup, but also so that young Saudi men and women can continue to enjoy their lattes over desert sunsets, living a life and building a future that would have once been unthinkable.
