The language of diplomats is polite. That is especially true for those who speak Arabic, a tongue inclined towards courtesies and honorifics. In December the Saudi foreign ministry issued a five-paragraph statement that used the term shaqiqa (“brotherly”) four times in reference to the United Arab Emirates (uae). The fraternal tone was rather at odds with the subject matter: the kingdom had just bombed an Emirati weapons shipment in Yemen and was accusing the uae of threatening its national security.
Almost two months later, no one is bothering with such niceties. The Gulf’s biggest powers are mired in a worsening spat. Top officials barely speak. State-backed propagandists have been unleashed to attack each other. The feud has reshaped the war in Yemen and complicated cross-border business. Diplomats and executives are nervous about what comes next. Some fear an echo of the Qatar crisis in 2017, when a group of Gulf countries (including Saudi Arabia and the uae) imposed an embargo on the tiny emirate over its support for Islamists. Things are unlikely to deteriorate that far—but even a lesser quarrel may have far-reaching consequences.
Saudi Arabia and the uae have been close allies for decades. Both are leading members of the Gulf Co-operation Council (gcc), a club of petro-monarchies, and of the opec cartel. They fought together for years in Yemen against the Houthis, an Iranian-backed militia that seized much of the country in 2014. The uae is Saudi Arabia’s fifth-largest export market for goods while Saudi Arabia ranks ninth for the uae; bilateral trade is worth $31bn a year. Flights between Dubai and Riyadh make up the world’s seventh-busiest international route.
Like all allies they have had their troubles. Their interests in Yemen began to diverge in 2018; a dispute over oil-production quotas paralysed opec for several months in 2021. But their leaders saw their partnership as the bedrock of Gulf security and tried to limit disagreements.
A turning point came in 2023, when Sudan tipped into civil war. The Saudis backed Sudan’s army. The uae sent money and arms to the Rapid Support Forces, a militia accused of genocide (the UAE acknowledges providing some early support but denies it is still doing so). The Saudis saw this as dangerous meddling in a war just 200km across the Red Sea. The Emiratis said the army was dominated by Islamists. Then came the quarrel in Yemen in December, when the Southern Transitional Council (stc), Emirati-backed secessionists, unexpectedly seized a large chunk of territory from Saudi-backed forces. The Saudis forced the stc to retreat and expelled the uae from Yemen.
As ever in the Gulf, the feud is a mix of the political and the personal. Saudi Arabia resents the uae’s support for separatists and rebels in Somalia, Sudan, Yemen and elsewhere, which it sees as destabilising. Emirati officials counter that many of these are states in name only: better to ally with strong separatists than a failed central government. The Emiratis despise political Islam, while the Saudis are willing to tolerate Islamist groups. They also disagree when it comes to Israel, which the uae recognised in 2020.
Saudi Arabia has the gcc‘s largest population by far, with 20m citizens to the uae’s 1m. A g20 economy and the home of Islam’s holiest sites, it sees itself as primus inter pares in the Gulf. Last month a commentator close to the royal court described the uae as a rebellious “younger sibling”. Such talk annoys the Emiratis, who have a more diversified economy and a more capable (if smaller) army. They no longer want to follow the kingdom’s lead on foreign policy.
Their dispute has turned into a battle of narratives. Commentators in Saudi Arabia accuse the uae of being a handmaiden for Israeli interests, while their opposite numbers allege that Muhammad bin Salman, the Saudi crown prince, has fallen in thrall to Islamists. A few months ago anyone posting such comments might have earned a summons from the police: in normal times, Gulf monarchs do not tolerate criticism of one another. Today both governments seem to be encouraging the vitriol.
Diplomats from four Western countries have heard complaints from uae-based firms who say they are facing new bureaucratic obstacles in the kingdom. Lorries have been held up at the border; employees are unable to obtain Saudi business visas. Meanwhile, Emirati firms pulled out of a big defence expo in Riyadh this month. Bosses are drawing up contingency plans in case things get worse. Few expect a Qatar-style embargo: economic ties are probably too deep for a total rupture. But they are worried nonetheless.
Business is not the only concern. Another anxiety is that competition between Saudi Arabia and the uae will exacerbate other conflicts. That could happen in the Horn of Africa, where Ethiopia (an Emirati ally) and Eritrea (a Saudi partner) seem close to war. The Saudis are also concerned about Syria, where the Emiratis remain sceptical of Ahmed al-Sharaa, the ex-jihadist who took power in 2024 after Bashar al-Assad’s regime collapsed.
Saudi officials say the feud will end if the uae stops backing regional rebels. It is less clear what the Emiratis want—they did not respond to multiple requests for comment—but they are unlikely to yield to the kingdom’s demands. In an amusing twist, Qatar is now trying to mediate between its former blockaders. On February 4th its emir met with Khalid bin Salman, the Saudi defence minister and the crown prince’s brother. Ten days later he flew to Abu Dhabi to see Muhammad bin Zayed, the uae’s president. Bahrain, Egypt and Turkey are also trying to help with diplomacy.
So far, though, none of these meetings seems to have made much progress. A nudge from America might help. Never doubtful of himself, Donald Trump thinks he could end the crisis: “I can settle it very easily,” he told reporters on February 16th. Yet diplomats in the region say the president is trying not to wade into a dispute between two allies who have enriched his family. The uae has stepped up its lobbying efforts in Washington, where its alignment with Israel is a source of support. “Knock it off, Saudi Arabia,” said Lindsey Graham, a Republican senator from South Carolina, on February 13th.
The Saudis, meanwhile, are trying to stir up trouble across the border. In recent days Saudi-linked social-media accounts have spread unsubstantiated rumours about the health of Sheikh Muhammad. Commentators in the kingdom have also tried to drive a wedge between Abu Dhabi, the capital of the uae, and the leaders of the other six emirates in the federation—not all of whom agree with Sheikh Muhammad’s hard-edged foreign policy. This latest Gulf crisis has been years in the making, and it shows no signs of ending.