AUKUS at a Crossroads: Testing Trust in Trilateralism and Ripple Effects on MENA
In 2021, the AUKUS security pact was hailed as a bold reconfiguration of 21st-century deterrence strategy—a trilateral alignment between Australia, the United Kingdom, and the United States aimed at countering China’s assertive rise and reasserting Western naval dominance in the Indo-Pacific. Fast forward to mid-2025, and this celebrated alliance finds itself at an uncomfortable juncture. The Biden-to-Trump transition has triggered a Pentagon-led review of AUKUS, casting a long shadow over one of the most ambitious military-industrial collaborations in recent memory.
While officially termed a “routine review,” the reassessment has resurrected old anxieties: Can the US be trusted to honor long-term strategic commitments? Is AUKUS another casualty of transactional geopolitics under the revived “America First” doctrine? And what does this mean not only for the Indo-Pacific, but for the wider architecture of Western-led alliances, particularly in regions like the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) where security dependence on the US remains high?
America First, Allies Second?
The Trump administration’s review of AUKUS is not unexpected. “America First” was never just a slogan—it’s a worldview. One that sees multilateralism not as a given, but as negotiable. Under this prism, alliances are not ends in themselves but levers of national advantage. AUKUS, with its projected $239 billion submarine program, now faces scrutiny through this narrower lens: Is the US giving more than it gets?
Such reviews may be procedurally justifiable, but they are diplomatically disruptive. Congressional Democrats argue the review sends mixed signals, suggesting American alliances are only as enduring as the next presidential tweet. For middle powers like Australia and even nuclear-armed Britain, this unpredictability is a strategic risk in itself.
For MENA, where US partnerships underpin counterterrorism, arms sales, maritime security, and regional deterrence—particularly against Iran—this unpredictability is not a distant concern. The volatility seen in AUKUS echoes loudly in Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, Jerusalem, and Cairo. It raises the broader question: If the United States is second-guessing long-term commitments to allies with shared democratic values, how secure are its partnerships in less formal but equally strategic settings?
Australia’s Strategic Gamble and Domestic Political Tensions
For Canberra, AUKUS isn’t just a policy—it’s a bet. A bet on the permanence of American power projection in the Indo-Pacific, and a belief that advanced submarines, AI collaboration, and cyber deterrence will bolster sovereignty in an increasingly hostile region.
Yet domestically, the pact faces increasing scrutiny. Opposition from the Australian Greens and factions within the Labor Party highlight concerns over strategic dependency, ballooning costs, and the implications of hosting nuclear-powered vessels. Should US reliability waver, political pressures could intensify, potentially complicating Australia’s long-term commitments.
This strategic anxiety is mirrored in MENA states like the UAE and Saudi Arabia, who have also invested heavily—politically, financially, and militarily—in their US alliances. If Canberra, a Five Eyes partner with significant strategic alignment to Washington, is questioning the long-term value of its US bet, then MENA capitals will surely be reassessing theirs.
Britain’s Calculus: Atlanticism vs Indo-Pacific Tilt
For the UK, AUKUS was a rare chance to prove Global Britain was more than a slogan. It allowed London to stretch its strategic relevance eastward while deepening defense industrial ties with Washington and Canberra. Now, the review raises awkward questions in Westminster. Is Britain merely a symbolic participant in a deal shaped by Washington and paid for by Canberra? And if AUKUS begins to fray, where does that leave the UK’s Indo-Pacific “tilt” especially in the wake of the Chagos debacle?
Budgetary pressures and growing public skepticism over overseas military engagements add complexity. Defence experts warn that Britain must reassess not just its contribution but its broader strategic dependencies if it is to maintain credible influence in the Indo-Pacific.
The same conundrum applies to British military footprints in MENA—from its permanent naval base in Bahrain to its extensive cooperation with Gulf monarchies. AUKUS instability invites broader questions: Is the UK truly willing and able to sustain multi-regional commitments, or will it be forced to prioritise Atlanticism over global projection?
Francis Tusa, a British defense analyst, puts it starkly: “Treating ratified treaties as tradeable reflects on a state’s reliability and trustworthiness—unilaterally break them, and you are saying that you cannot be trusted.” AUKUS was always about more than submarines—it was a trust pact. Undermining it risks corroding the very credibility the West seeks to project.
Beyond Submarines: The Tech Race and Industrial Realities
AUKUS’s ambitions extend well beyond nuclear submarines. It encompasses hypersonic missiles, quantum computing, cyber warfare, and AI-driven command and control systems. These cutting-edge capabilities require deep collaboration in technology transfer and intellectual property sharing among the three nations.
The Pentagon review raises doubts not only about submarine timelines but also about the US defense industrial base’s capacity to simultaneously support its own military needs and those of allies. American shipbuilding is bottlenecked by decades of underinvestment, producing just two nuclear subs per year, while the AUKUS plan demands far more. Could the UK’s Barrow shipyard or Australian industrial initiatives fill these gaps, or is the program’s scale simply unrealistic?
In MENA, these industrial and technological concerns have significant spillover effects. The UAE and Israel, both tech-forward states in AI, drones, and cyber defense, have sought advanced defense technologies from the US—many of which intersect with AUKUS objectives. If AUKUS stalls, or if Washington becomes more reluctant to share dual-use technology, these MENA partners may accelerate national programs or diversify suppliers—particularly toward South Korea, Türkiye, and increasingly, China.
MENA Maritime Chokepoints and Naval Security
While AUKUS is framed around the Indo-Pacific, its naval dimension is globally resonant. The Red Sea, Strait of Hormuz, and Bab el-Mandeb are among the world’s most sensitive maritime chokepoints. Any erosion in Western naval cooperation—or doubts about US-led maritime coalitions—has a direct impact on MENA energy exporters and global supply chains.
Attacks on Red Sea shipping by Houthi forces in Yemen and Iranian interference in the Gulf have already tested Western naval resolve. A weakening AUKUS could exacerbate these vulnerabilities, emboldening actors who see waning deterrence.
Moreover, Western naval reassurances to Gulf allies—including recent US deployments to protect international trade routes—draw legitimacy from a broader alliance architecture. If AUKUS loses coherence, the symbolic value of Anglo-American naval power may diminish, with real-world consequences in MENA’s volatile waters.
Regional Reactions: Allies and Adversaries Watching Closely
In Southeast Asia, AUKUS was already controversial, perceived by some as a provocative escalation in a fragile regional balance. Indonesia, Malaysia, and others watch the US review warily, concerned about an arms race or diminished US engagement.
In MENA, the response is similarly watchful. Gulf states, Israel, Egypt, and even Turkey are parsing the review for signals. Will AUKUS survive but be watered down? Will the US use the review to extract greater cost-sharing? Or worse, will it walk away?
Each of these options sends different messages to regional actors. Japan, South Korea, and India may question the durability of US commitments not just in AUKUS, but across the Quad and other regional frameworks. Likewise, MENA partners may consider hedging against American unpredictability through strategic diversification—something already underway with the UAE’s increasing arms ties to China and Russia, and Saudi Arabia’s cautious engagement with BRICS.
China’s Strategic Messaging and Diplomacy
From Beijing’s perspective, the US review is a propaganda gift. It reinforces the narrative that America is unreliable and inward-looking. China may seize the opportunity to accelerate diplomatic overtures and security partnerships in the Indo-Pacific, presenting itself as a steadier alternative to a wavering US-led alliance.
MENA is already a core theater for this narrative. China’s Belt and Road Initiative, its investments in Gulf ports, and its recent brokering of Saudi-Iranian rapprochement are all designed to present Beijing as a reliable and pragmatic partner. AUKUS instability gives further credence to this campaign.
Broader Lessons for Alliance Management
AUKUS’s moment of uncertainty illustrates a broader trend in alliance politics. NATO, the Quad, and the Five Eyes intelligence community all grapple with the challenges of maintaining unity amid divergent national priorities and rising populism.
Are we entering an era of “insurance multilateralism,” where partners hedge against US unpredictability by forming parallel or redundant security frameworks? In the MENA context, we already see trilateral and minilateral alignments forming—with Egypt-Greece-Cyprus, Israel-UAE-Bahrain, and even Israel-India-UAE trilaterals gaining traction.
This “modular” approach to alliance-building is both a symptom of and a response to declining faith in long-standing Western-led security guarantees.
Conclusion: Trilateral, Not Transactional
The core logic of AUKUS—shared threat perceptions, interoperable technologies, and democratic alignment—remains intact. But logic alone doesn’t build submarines. Political will does. And that will is now on trial.
If the US proceeds with AUKUS but demands disproportionate cost-sharing or strategic concessions, it may preserve the alliance in name while hollowing it out in substance. If it retreats altogether, the message to allies worldwide will be chilling: that American partnership is a short-term contract, not a long-term covenant.
Trust, not tonnage, is the true ballast of any alliance. If AUKUS founders on the rocks of short-termism, the ripple effect may stretch far beyond the Pacific—undermining fragile alliance networks in the Mediterranean, the Arabian Gulf, the Horn of Africa, and beyond.
AUKUS was supposed to be the future of trilateralism. Whether it now becomes a footnote in transactionalism depends not on strategic doctrine but political determination. It is time, once again, for Washington to decide what kind of ally it wants to be—and for Canberra, London, and a watching MENA to prepare contingencies in case that answer is not the one they hoped for.