– by Alexander Jones – 1/2/2023

Since 2019 when diplomatic relations were normalised between the UAE and Israel, half a million Israelis have visited the Emirates. In 2022, non-oil trade passed the US$2 billion mark in October. You can read more about these prior developments in our blog articles about normalisation, but looking to the future it is clear that the next big prize in the game of normalisation for the Israelis would be Saudi Arabia. 

It was the Saudis who proposed the Arab Peace Initiative in 2002. In short, it promised Israel full normalisation with the Arab world in exchange for ending the Occupation and allowing a sovereign Palestinian state to be created in the West Bank and Gaza Strip. Despite public proclamations that this is still the case, the Arab World of today is a rapidly changing place. The regional rivalry with Iran has pushed many to recognise – or at least do business with – Israel. The old adage ‘my enemy’s enemy is my friend’ seems to trump Arab solidarity, at least where Palestine is concerned.

And Saudi Arabia specifically is undergoing especially massive changes beyond this. Although officially there is still no recognition of Israel and 87-year-old King Salman still reigns, it is clear that Crown Prince Mohammad Bin Salman is the driving force behind a series of sweeping reforms enacted since 2016, known collectively as Vision 2030. It would be fair to call these reforms revolutionary.

Planes taking off from Israel were not able to even enter Saudi airspace until 2018. There were no cinemas, public mixing of unmarried men and women, or female drivers in Saudi Arabia until that same year. There was no such thing as a tourist visa, with the only outsiders being foreign workers and Muslim pilgrims visiting Mecca and Medina, until 2019. But MBS is also the man widely assumed to be behind the gruesome murder of Jamal Khashoggi, the Saudi journalist who was dismembered with a bone saw at the Saudi Consulate in Istanbul in 2018.

It was with all this in mind that last week I set off on an overland journey from my home in Tel Aviv, to the world’s largest oil exporting country, a country in revolution; Saudi Arabia.

The first striking thing was how easy the journey was logistically. Despite all the mistrust and the borders which were impassable for decades, so much has changed of late that it was very easy for a foreigner like me to pass from the ‘Jewish and democratic Israel’ to the officially Islamic ‘Kingdom of Saudi Arabia’.

It’s a short walk from my apartment to Tel Aviv’s monstrous central bus station (see this article for more information about this awful white elephant) and then just over four hours on good roads through the Negev Desert and down the Arava Valley to the Jordanian border. The bus can drop you off just outside of Eilat and an easy 1.5 kilometre walk from the Hashemite Kingdom.

The Wadi Araba-Yitzhak Rabin Border Crossing is usually a sleepy place. Opened in 1994 with the signing of the Israel-Jordan Peace Treaty, it is a pretty sad reminder of the relationship between the two countries. Palestinians cannot cross here, Jordanians require difficult visas, and very few Israelis choose to visit Jordan, so the only people you are likely to see are agricultural day workers and a smattering of international tourists.

Once upon a time there was talk of building a shared water desalination plant, shared tourist resorts and even a shared international airport between Eilat and Aqaba. But despite the pleasing absence of violence there is no real prospect of the relationship improving and the 25 year anniversary of Jordanian normalisation in 2019 saw several clauses in the agreement annulled and show that Israel’s push for diplomatic normalisation is not a one-way street.

From the crossing, Downtown Aqaba is just a 10 minute taxi ride away, and the trip onwards down the coast to the Saudi frontier is about twice this distance again. The Jordan-Saudi border is a much more developed place, with plenty of industry, trucks and trade. I’d already bought my Saudi tourist visa online, a cheap and easy process. 

The only other people we saw crossing though were a few Saudi families who appeared to have been holidaying in Jordan. No attention was paid to my Israeli residence visa, or our Jordanian entry stamps (despite what many scaremongerers online still report, Israel no longer stamps passports physically, instead issuing small pink and blue slips of paper. Therefore the only proof of having been to Israel is if you cross in or out via Jordan or Egypt). Border guards were as brusque as they usually are anywhere, and our vehicle was thoroughly searched – even undergoing a full scan in a massive drive through x-ray machine – but the whole experience took no more than 45 minutes. We were in!

After leaving the Red Sea at the little town of Haql, one of the first road signs we saw proudly proclaimed “10km to NEOM”. Neom is probably the most high profile part of MBS’s Vision 2030 plan. It’s an utterly fantastical, utopian ‘smart city’ to be built in the Saudi desert, 33 times larger than New York City. It will feature a 170 km long, 250 m wide, fully mirrored city called The Line, designed to house 9 million people with all basic services within 5-minute walking distance. As we drove through the nondescript desert, we eventually came to another sign announcing we’d arrived at Neom.

Of course, it was nowhere to be seen. There is so much promotion of Neom online that you’d be forgiven for expecting something concrete to have been built (or if not concrete, at least glass and steel. Or possibly smoke and mirrors?). Instead there are still gaping holes in the plans, their feasibility and even basic things like where precisely Neom will be. Many early reports said that Neom would be built in this area “just a few kilometres from Eilat”, and it seemed like the signs we saw were a hangover from this period. Construction of The Line has in fact started, however it’s some 130 km to the south. And construction is possibly being too generous – the process is shrouded in secrecy but most reports indicate all that has happened so far is some land clearing. 

In nearby Tabuk we chatted to a family from Riyadh but whose origins were Indian. The father told us he’d been working here as an engineer for almost 40 years but his chances of getting citizenship were nil. His brother holidaying for three weeks in the US, he joked, was closer to becoming an American than he was a Saudi. Almost 40% of Saudi’s inhabitants are foreigners and it shows, with a huge ethnic variety in the faces you see in the streets.

Another day of driving and we arrived in AlUla, Saudi Arabia’s first UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of their most precious touristic jewels. Located on the ancient spice route, AlUla is the main town in the middle of a stunning oasis, roughly 40 km long and 10 km wide. As well as date palms, agriculture and surreal rocks, it has Bronze Age remains, Nabatean tombs, early Islamic-era water works and what is left of the Ottoman Hejaz Railway. The oasis is also home to the one time Nabatean capital of Hegra, also known as Mada’in Salih. Often called the ‘second Petra’, its gorgeous collection of 2000-year old rock hewn tombs might make calling Petra the ‘second Hegra’ a better nickname! 

Money has been pumped into AlUla by the Saudis. The world’s largest mirrored building has been plonked in the middle of a huge, desert canyon to impressive effect. It hosts a European restaurant run by a twice-Michelin starred British chef, as well as a 500 seat concert venue where the likes of Andrea Bocelli, One Republic, Enrique Iglesias, John Legend and Lionel Richie have all performed. The ruinous old town, totally sealed off today but lived in as recently as the 1980s, photogenically crumbles right next to a brand new ‘old town experience’, with new-but-old-looking buildings made of sandstone containing designer boutiques and restaurants like Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts.

It was here, and really only here, that we saw Western tourists in any number. Overwhelmingly the female tourists chose to dress modestly but leave their hair uncovered. The majority of the people working in the service and/or tourist industry here were women, who mostly offered up the legendary Arab hospitality while chatting with us behind a niqab, blending a curious mixture of shyness and bluntness. It’s easy to imagine this gem of a place becoming a popular destination for tourists, coming either from the new airport, from Aqaba or even perhaps Eilat. The place has been considered off-limits to Muslims for centuries due to “a superstition among many Saudis – long-backed by religious edicts – that the area is haunted by jinn, the malevolent spirits of the Koran.”. We certainly got the impression that money trumped all here and it’s not hard to imagine Muslims and curious Israelis alike wanting to visit in decent numbers if they’re able to.

After AlUla we drove to the Muslim holy city of Medina. The Muslim calendar begins when Mohammad fled here from his home in Mecca (in 622 of the common era) and it is in Medina that one finds the world’s first mosque, the site of Mohammad’s home, and Mohammad’s tomb. The entire city was off-limits to non-Muslims until recently, but now the only area we were asked not to visit was the inside of the Prophet’s Mosque itself (very similar in fact to the arrangement at Al Aqsa in Jerusalem). Walking around the giant plaza with thousands of Muslim pilgrims from all over the world was an experience I never thought I would be privileged to have. It was beautiful, humbling and a fabulous reminder of the changes taking place here.

We left Medina by train. Built in October 2018, sleek, 300 km/h trains built by Spanish firm Talgo whisk you down to Saudi’s largest coastal city, Jeddah, in less than 2 hours. These are the same trains which cost former Spanish King Juan Carlos his reputation; he only returned to Spain in October after more than two years in exile to avoid investigation for allegations of corruption stemming from this very deal.

For centuries Jeddah has been the port of arrival for pilgrims visiting the Muslim Holy Cities. In much the same way that the old port of Jaffa welcomed visitors to Jerusalem, Jeddah is where millions of Muslims enter Arabia to complete the hajj in Mecca. Nicknamed the ‘Bride of the Red Sea’, it’s a bustling, multicultural place with massive Yemeni, Sudanese and Pakistani influences. It was also in Jeddah that we had our starkest reminder of the dark side of all of these rapid social changes.

The highlight of a visit to Jeddah is its old town; al-Balad. A maze of alleys, many dating back to the 7th century, here most of the buildings are made of coral brought up from the neighbouring Red Sea. As we approached the area by taxi, our driver struggled to get to the point I’d selected for a drop off. Around and around we’d drive, repeatedly skirting the neighbourhood on massive highways. At first I couldn’t understand why, but then I realised that on either side of us were fenced off areas which we could occasionally get a look into. Huge swathes of land had been completely cleared of all buildings. Whole neighbourhoods on my map app simply did not exist any more. When we got up high on some of the bigger highways you could see into these areas which were completely empty but for some bulldozers and a few remaining piles of rubble.

The demolitions began just over a year ago. Also part of MBS’s Vision 2030, in many cases residents were given a knock on the door in the morning, and their homes were gone by the afternoon. Already tens of thousands of buildings have disappeared and according to the organisation Democracy for the Arab World Now (DAWN), these demolitions will affect 1.5 million Saudis in 63 neighbourhoods spread across 3 million square kilometres. They have also led to some very rare public protests.

There were plenty of ways even us tourists could observe the Saudi government’s ultraconservative and repressive policies. On a flight with Saudia I watched the Spanish film Official Competition. One scene was awkwardly cut and – guessing what I was missing – I suspected the authorities might have been involved. Sure enough, audiences outside of Saudi Arabia see Penelope Cruz and Irene Escolar kissing in an almost comical, nearly two-minute long scene which was obviously too much for the Saudi censors. LGBT rights in Saudi are nonexistent and homosexuality strictly illegal – though for what it’s worth I did see a group of four what looked like queer Filipinos coming out of a secret door in the back of a barber shop where I was getting a haircut!

Radio seemed to mostly be Quranic recitations but one Western music station we played was also unable to escape the censors. Sia’s song ‘Snowman’ had the line ‘it’s Christmas baby’ expertly removed – all other religions are prohibited in the Kingdom.

It was also in Jeddah that I first openly discussed Israel with people. The response when I asked about the possibility of normalisation was something I’ve heard many times among Palestinians. “We have no problem with the Jews and already a lot of business is being done with Israel. But until they stop killing children we cannot have real peace.” One of the main streets in Jeddah is called ‘Shaaria Falasteen’, or Palestine Street, while the Dome of the Rock appears on the Saudi 50 riyal banknote. Despite the monument being hundreds of kilometres away in Jerusalem, everyone I asked about it knew immediately that this was Al Aqsa, in Palestine. Admittedly all of these interactions make up a miniscule sample size, but it’s fair to say that Palestine is an issue most Saudis are keenly aware of, but that normalisation with Israel isn’t completely outside the realm of possibility given the correct circumstances.

The same is true in Israel itself. If the Israeli curiosity for doing business and holidaying in the Emirates is anything to go by, Saudi Arabia just represents an even bigger opportunity. With 4 times the population, and 20 times the number of citizens of the UAE, Saudi Arabia is a huge, untapped market. Put even more simply, the Saudis sell more oil and buy more military equipment than all the other Arab countries which have normalised, put together. Israelis know this prize won’t necessarily be easily won but are prepared to make sacrifices. According to the Geneva Initiative, 61.2% of Israelis would accept a building freeze in the settlements as a condition of normalising relations with Saudi Arabia. Whether the Saudis will leverage any influence they have to ensure Israel respects international human rights norms and international law is unlikely, but one can hope.

Because Saudi Arabia so often sets the geopolitical tone in the Sunni-Western alliance, having the Saudis on board would also legitimise normalisation, a decision not everyone in the countries which have normalised is comfortable with yet. Although plenty of business is done between the Gulf and Israel, in the last two years support for the normalisation deals fell to 25% (from 47%) in the UAE while in Bahrain it’s even lower at just 20% (down from 45%). In a similar vein, tourism from these countries is almost non-existent. Only 10% of those living in the Emirates are Emirati citizens (who can enter Israel visa-free) while the remainder are mostly Filipino, Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi and Nepalesei workers for whom a visit to Israel is still way off the radar.

I discussed this with friends during a short stopover in Dubai on my flight back home. They were pragmatic about the relationship with Israel but admitted there was still a social stigma around visiting Israel and the new government in Jerusalem was not making those on the fence feel any more comfortable.

I finally flew home from just down the road in Abu Dhabi, where construction on the Abrahamic Family House has almost finished. Three huge, gleaming cubes, one each for Jews, Christians and Muslims, “aim to represent the diverse worshippers, residents and visitors of Abu Dhabi”. It was one final reminder that here of all places the adage, ‘if you build it they will come’ seems most true. The gaps between the people and their governments may remain, but normalisation is gathering steam and the Saudi modernisation push may well have opened a floodgate it’s impossible to shut.