The Prince of Wales’s visit to Saudi Arabia this week unfolded with familiar images: desert canyons in AlUla, discussions of wildlife conservation at Sharaan Nature Reserve, conversations with Saudi women about social change, a carefully staged meeting with Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman. On the surface, it was an unremarkable exercise in royal soft power. Yet the timing, and the geography, invite closer scrutiny.
Back home, the monarchy is once again under strain from the aftershocks of Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor’s long association with Jeffrey Epstein. Fresh document releases in the United States and reports that police are assessing whether to examine aspects of Andrew’s former trade envoy role have revived a controversy the Palace has struggled to bury. Against that backdrop, any overseas tour acquires additional significance. Royal diplomacy does not occur in a vacuum. It unfolds in the shadow of domestic credibility.
Saudi Arabia is a long-standing British partner, commercially and strategically. It is also an absolute monarchy with a stark human rights record. Political dissent is tightly circumscribed. Capital punishment remains in use. The murder of Jamal Khashoggi continues to frame international perceptions of Mohammed bin Salman’s rule. During the visit, the Prince raised the issue of women’s changing status, speaking with Saudi women about reforms introduced since 2017, including the right to drive and greater freedom to travel and work. It was a calibrated acknowledgement: progress noted, system untouched.
Critics question why such a visit is appropriate now. The answer lies partly in the nature of constitutional monarchy itself. Royal tours are not ornamental diversions. They are extensions of British foreign policy. The government chooses the destination; the royal presence confers symbolism. The decision to send the heir to the throne to Riyadh at this particular moment therefore carries intent.
Consider the destinations that are not being chosen. It is difficult to imagine the Prince being dispatched to Israel in the present climate. Since the 7 October 2023 massacre and the subsequent war, Israel has become a lightning rod for hostility across parts of Europe and the Middle East. The conflict, triggered by a brutal assault and sustained amid direct and proxy pressure from the regime in Tehran, has reshaped regional diplomacy. The King offered words of solidarity immediately after the attack. Thereafter the royal voice has largely confined itself to humanitarian language. The Prince has met Palestinian children receiving medical treatment in Britain. Children provide moral clarity. They also provide political safety.
Yet Prince William has walked the streets of Jerusalem before. In June 2018 he undertook the first official visit to Israel by a senior member of the British royal family. I accompanied him on that tour. The programme was structured around youth initiatives, coexistence projects, environmental cooperation. He met President Reuven Rivlin and Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, visited Yad Vashem, and stood at the tomb of Princess Alice on the Mount of Olives. It was seen at the time as a breakthrough, though it came decades after Israel’s founding. There has still been no official visit to Israel by a reigning monarch, and none by a Prince of Wales in that title.
Some interpret that caution as a lingering British reluctance fully to normalise its public embrace of the Jewish state. There is no equivalent hesitation when engaging Gulf monarchies whose democratic credentials are absent. The optics of royal fraternity with another royal house are smoother than those of appearing alongside elected leaders forged in partisan contest. Symbolism can be strangely selective.
Saudi Arabia itself is navigating a delicate phase. Its strategic interests have often aligned with Israel’s, particularly in countering Iran and containing regional instability. Prospects of Saudi participation in the Abraham Accords once seemed within reach. Since October 7, that path has grown more complicated. Israel has become more politically charged in Arab discourse. Riyadh may calculate that visible distance offers insulation should conflict with Iran escalate. At the same time, tensions between Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, evident in Yemen and in competition for regional influence, have introduced tactical rivalry into Gulf politics. Some Saudi criticism of normalisation appears intertwined with that competition. This posture looks pragmatic rather than ideological. Mohammed bin Salman’s foreign policy has consistently prioritised leverage and flexibility.
In that context, British engagement may be designed to steady the relationship, to encourage Saudi Arabia toward alignment with a Western-oriented axis rather than drift. Drawing Riyadh closer at a moment of hesitation can be read as strategic patience.
There is, however, an awkward overlay. The same Epstein-related disclosures that have reignited scrutiny of Andrew have included renewed references to his past interactions in Saudi Arabia. A royal family seeking to demonstrate ethical seriousness around issues of exploitation and abuse finds itself strengthening ties with a kingdom that once extended hospitality to the man who has most compromised its reputation in recent history. That contradiction will not go unnoticed.
Royal visits can appear ceremonial, even faintly anachronistic, but they are also communicative acts. The choice of Riyadh over Jerusalem signals where Britain feels able to stand publicly, and where it prefers to tread carefully. If the monarchy is to serve as an instrument of diplomacy rather than pageantry, its deployments inevitably reveal something about national confidence and caution alike.
It would be a striking gesture were the Prince of Wales, or the King, to undertake a clear, unapologetic visit to Israel in the near future, affirming solidarity with a democracy confronting sustained multi-front threats, including those emanating from Tehran. It would also be a recognition that such threats are aimed also at us in Britain. While such a decision would carry controversy, it would also carry clarity.
For now, the desert photographs from AlUla and the careful conversations in Riyadh tell their own story. Royal diplomacy may be soft power, but it still traces a line.
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