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A critical read on Saudi, UAE, Egypt, Jordan and why Indonesia, Pakistan and Malaysia mostly limit themselves to words
By SHABODIEN ROOMANAY
Jerusalem, and in particular al-Masjid al-Aqsa, is not an abstract diplomatic talking point for billions of Muslims. It is named in the Qur’an as a place of blessing and sacred history and it has for generations been at the centre of Muslim political, religious and moral anchor.
‘Glory be to the One who took His Servant (Muhammad) by night from the Sacred Mosque (al-Masjid al-Haram) to the Farthest Mosque (al-Masjid al-Aqsa) whose surroundings We have blessed…’ (Al-Isra, 17:1).
The Qur’an also asks plainly: ‘And why should you not fight in the cause of Allah and of those who, being weak, are ill-treated (and oppressed)? – Men, women, and children, who cry is: “Our Lord! Rescue us from this town, whose people are oppressors…’ (An-Nisa, 4:75).
The Prophet SAW said: ‘Help your brother, whether he is an oppressor or he is an oppressed one… (and) prevent him from oppressing others’ (Sahih al-Bukhari).
These moral injunctions sharpen the question that many Muslims are asking today: why have several Muslim majority governments, especially Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates (UAE), Egypt and Jordan, failed to mount effective state-level pressure or tangible support for the Palestinian residents of Gaza and the West Bank, beyond inconsequential public statements?
This piece does three things: (1) summarises the realpolitik that explains why those four governments have acted (or failed to act) as they have; (2) outlines the forms and scale of cooperation, normalisation and practical constraints that have limited their moves; and (3) explains why populous Muslim states such as Indonesia, Pakistan and Malaysia have mostly offered condemnation, limited diplomacy and humanitarian help rather than direct intervention.
When considering the politics of proximity, the question of why Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, Cairo and Amman have been cautious is critical.
Saudi Arabia is the region’s pre-eminent security heavyweight and the formal, self-appointed guardian of Islam’s two holiest sites in Makkah and Madinah. Since the 2010s Riyadh has pursued a cautious, transactional foreign policy: it seeks advanced security guarantees (notably from the United States), wants mainly to limit Iranian influence, and is protecting major economic transformation programmes, such as Vision 2030. Washington’s role and Saudi dependence on US security support, and weapons transfers, shapes Riyadh’s options. In 2025 alone, a $142bn arms deal with the USA was signed off by the Saudi rulers.
Why this matters? When a state’s prime diplomatic goal is to secure weapons, technology and security guarantees from the USA, antagonising this partner, or creating a major regional split, will become a costly proposition.
The UAE normalised with Israel by signing the Abraham Accords in September 2020 and has since pursued deep economic, technological and security links with Israel. Normalisation has opened trade, investment and intelligence sharing. The Accords and follow-on cooperation make it politically costly for Abu Dhabi to take measures that would materially undermine Israeli security or logistics in a way that might destabilise those relationships.
In short: ‘normalisation’ has built mutual dependencies that limit Abu Dhabi’s room for manoeuvre when Israel acts militarily. Typically, the sponsor sets the agenda.
Egypt’s position is even more complex and frequently paradoxical. Cairo, it has to be remembered, is the ‘guardian’ of the Rafah crossing, and the 1979 Camp David framework shapes what it can and cannot do.
Egypt has repeatedly expressed ‘alarm’ at large-scale displacement of Palestinians from Gaza and has called for humanitarian access; yet it has also cooperated with Israel on security matters in Sinai and on border control. Importantly, since May 2024 significant restrictions on Rafah, and Israel’s seizure of buffer areas, have left hundreds of thousands cut off from aid, with the United Nations and Reuters documenting closures and the severe humanitarian consequences of tightened border access. Egypt has protested in words and sometimes tactical acts; but it has avoided steps that would bring direct military confrontation with Israel or destabilise its own fragile internal security environment.
Egypt’s Camp David peace treaty with Israel, signed in 1979, was the foundation of its relationship with Washington. In exchange for ending hostilities and recognising Israel, Egypt received annual US military aid of about US$1.3 billion, a guarantee of continued US political and diplomatic protection, and preferential status with international lenders and Western allies. This ‘peace-for-aid’ formula locked Egypt into a structural alignment with Israeli and US regional interests. Since then, every Egyptian president, from Mubarak to Sisi, has carefully preserved this dependency to ensure regime continuity.
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Jordan’s 1994 peace treaty with Israel, its large Palestinian population (many Jordanians are of Palestinian origin), and the Hashemite custodianship of Jerusalem’s holy sites produce intense domestic pressure. Yet Amman also depends on US security cooperation and has strong, ongoing intelligence and border-security coordination with Israel. Analysts note that Jordan continues quiet security cooperation even during public diplomatic tensions, because the kingdom treats border stability as a core national concern. The result is a repeated pattern: strong public rhetoric and limited diplomatic steps, but restrained action when military escalation is on the table.
Support to Israel has come in the form of cooperation, normalisation and practical facilitation.
What is now in place is security and intelligence cooperation. Numerous policy studies and reports have documented ongoing security and intelligence coordination between Israel and regional states (including Jordan and, in different forms, Egypt and the Gulf), driven by shared concerns about Iran and transnational militancy. This cooperation constrains how forcefully partners can publicly or covertly counter Israel’s military actions.
Airspace and economic overflights
Normalised diplomatic relations and commercial aviation routes reduce the political cost of cooperation with Israel and make fast logistical cooperation (overflight, civil aviation, port access) technically possible. While direct transfers of lethal material from these states to Israeli forces are not part of the established public record in the way some social media claims have suggested, the structural and economic ties make meaningful pressure costly.
Bottom line: the record is one of interdependence and security alignment that limits the political options of these governments. That interdependence is precisely why mass public outrage in many of these states clashes with cautious government behaviour.
Now the question arises, why do Muslim majority nations such as Indonesia, Pakistan and Malaysia mostly stay at the level of condemnation and diplomacy in spite of being populous Muslim-majority states with deep popular sympathy for the Palestinians? They have mostly responded with diplomatic condemnation, humanitarian aid, UN activism and domestic protests rather than direct military aid or intervention.
There are several concrete reasons explain to explain the inaction of these Muslim-majority countries. There is, for example, no room for diplomatic posturing as Indonesia and Malaysia do not have official ties with Israel. This limits direct state-to-state levers other than campaigning in international fora, offering humanitarian assistance and supporting UN resolutions.
Pakistan and Malaysia have to weigh domestic political currents, extremist spoilers, and internal security when formulating their position. Violent protests and domestic instability can follow any perceived misstep; both governments therefore often prefer to signal strongly in words while avoiding actions that could trigger violent escalation, economic sanctions, or foreign intelligence repercussions. Recent coverage shows large street protests in Pakistan and vocal government condemnations, but those statements have to be balanced against economic and strategic ties with the Gulf states and the US that Pakistan, for example, relies upon.
Stating moral and religious arguments in what the Qur’an and the Sunnah demand sharpen the Islamic and moral question. The Qur’an ties Jerusalem directly into prophetic memory (Surah Al-Isra, 17:1), making it symbolic and sacred. It also frames action for the oppressed as an obligation: ‘And why should you not fight in the cause of Allah and of those who, being weak, are ill-treated (and oppressed)? – Men, women, and children, who cry is: “Our Lord! Rescue us from this town, whose people are oppressors…’ (An-Nisa, 4:75). The teaching of the Prophet (SAW): ‘Help your brother, whether he is an oppressor or he is an oppressed one… [by preventing oppression]’ (Sahih al-Bukhari) requires Muslims to act to prevent oppression. These texts argue for more than formal statements of condemnation; they demand practical support for the vulnerable and active opposition to injustice.
The religious case is not only spiritual; it is political. For many Muslims the defence of al-Aqsa and the Palestinian residents of Jerusalem is a test of moral credibility for Muslim leadership. Words, clearly, are not enough. The moral scriptures call for concrete help for the oppressed, while the present geopolitics has produced caution instead. The result is tragic: people resident in Gaza, and those in the West Bank, feel abandoned by governments whose religious and rhetorical commitment to al-Aqsa and the Palestinian cause is clear, but whose national interest calculations, security dependencies and normalising relationships with Israel limit their practical response.
That contradiction creates a test for Muslim states: can they translate moral standing into diplomatic creativity, coordinated sanctions, genuine humanitarian corridors guaranteed by credible third parties, legal action through international courts, or a sustained multilateral diplomatic campaign, without sacrificing national security? If governments cannot or will not act in ways the Qur’an and the Prophet (SAW) urge – to aid the oppressed and to prevent oppression – then civil society, religious institutions and transnational networks must press for credible, concrete alternatives that reduce civilian suffering and protect sacred sites.
History will judge whether the custodianships and states that claim stewardship of Islamic dignity were capable of converting words into measures that actually protected the residents of Jerusalem and the besieged people of Gaza. For many Muslims, the question is already answered, painfully, in the sight of al-Aqsa itself.
