The spectacle of a state visit, under ordinary circumstances, is meant to signal diplomatic strength and mutual respect. Under Donald Trump, however, it becomes a transactional performance, a public washing machine designed to scrub away the stains of documented atrocities. The recent arrival of Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, or MBS, for his first visit since the state-sanctioned, bone-saw-assisted murder of Jamal Khashoggi in 2018, was not a mere diplomatic event. It was a five-star, full-service canonization ritual, complete with the kind of over-the-top pageantry normally reserved for the triumphant return of a conquering hero.
Trump rolled out the maximum pomp the White House could muster, demonstrating a willingness to prioritize lucrative contracts over basic morality that was breathtaking in its cynicism. The Crown Prince was greeted with a red carpet rolled across the South Lawn, an honor guard on horseback, and the ear-splitting approval of a fighter jet flyover-a display of military hardware typically reserved for allies whose leaders have not been credibly accused by U.S. intelligence of ordering the dismemberment of a Washington Post columnist.
The lavish affair culminated in an East Room dinner, where Trump offered MBS a torrent of praise, referring to their “friendship” and proclaiming the Prince to be “one of the most respected people in the world.” The contradiction was structural, the irony of honoring a man who eliminated a journalist with such barbarity was so blatant it felt less like a policy decision and more like a deliberate act of trolling. The message was clear: there is no crime so grisly that it cannot be wiped clean by a sufficient volume of oil and weapons purchases.
When reporters inevitably pressed him on the inconvenient details of the Khashoggi murder, Trump’s response was a masterclass in moral evasion and psychological projection. He did not deny the facts of the case so much as he minimized the victim. He brushed aside the U.S. intelligence findings that MBS himself had approved the killing, telling the assembled press that Khashoggi was “extremely controversial” and that “a lot of people didn’t like that gentleman.” It was a crass, almost gleeful assassination of the journalist’s character, serving as a posthumous justification for his actual murder.
Trump then delivered the ultimate rhetorical shrug, declaring that in any case, “things happen,” and assuring the world that the Crown Prince “knew nothing about it.” This was the core transaction: a total absolution granted in exchange for future cooperation. The casual, mock-serious indifference to state-sponsored violence-the suggestion that a state-directed execution is the moral equivalent of a fender-bender-is the kind of absurdity that only deep cynicism can produce.
The meeting itself produced a cascade of formal announcements, signaling that the administration was not just offering rhetorical protection, but material reward. Trump formalized approval to sell advanced F-35 fighter jets and nearly 300 tanks to Saudi Arabia, an arms transfer that proceeded despite internal Pentagon worries about the kingdom’s propensity for technology leaks to adversaries like China. The military relationship was further cemented by designating the kingdom a “major non-NATO ally,” an honorific that carries real defense and intelligence implications.
The deal-making did not stop at military hardware. The visit touted a new strategic defense and civilian nuclear cooperation framework, a step toward an arrangement that had been frozen after the Khashoggi killing. More immediately impactful were the promises of financial investment. The administration celebrated Saudi pledges to boost U.S. investment to a mind-boggling one trillion dollars, targeting futuristic sectors like AI and rare earths. The entire visit became a testament to the idea that money not only talks, but shouts down every human rights concern.
For his part, MBS offered a single, carefully worded concession that served as a fig leaf of geopolitical constraint. He repeated that Riyadh would only join the Abraham Accords-the high-profile normalization deals with Israel-if there were a credible, achievable path to a two-state solution for Palestinians. This statement, while perhaps a strategic necessity for the Saudis, only highlighted the administration’s transactional priorities: they were willing to overlook a bone saw in exchange for military contracts, but the Crown Prince was not willing to move on the Palestinian issue without a specific political victory.
The backlash to this display was immediate, predictable, and searing. Khashoggi’s widow and his colleagues at the Washington Post rightly voiced their outrage, calling the entire charade a moral disgrace. Press freedom advocates and human rights organizations universally condemned the visit, noting that Trump was actively legitimizing and rewarding an autocrat the CIA had concluded ordered a journalist lured to a consulate and dismembered. The contrast between the White House’s polished marble halls and the gruesome details of the murder was stark, yet the administration was happy to ignore it.
Editorial boards across the political spectrum were appalled, calling Trump’s flippant, “things happen” line both morally crass and strategically useless. They argued that such a statement undercut any pretense of American moral leadership on the global stage. Meanwhile, critics raised serious, unaddressed conflict of interest alarms regarding Jared Kushner and the broader Trump family business ties to Saudi cash. The confluence of personal enrichment and high-stakes foreign policy felt less like diplomacy and more like a thinly veiled protection racket.
Perhaps the most haunting critique came from foreign policy experts who warned that turning the “People Who Chop Up Dissidents” into honored guests with jet flyovers and nuclear deals signals a profound, dangerous message. It tells every would-be strongman and autocrat on the planet that there is no human rights abuse too grisly, no democratic norm too sacred, to be violated. The message is simple: any act of violence can be washed away with enough oil, enough weapons contracts, and enough pledges of strategic investment. The Trump administration was not just ignoring a murder; it was issuing an open invitation to global impunity.
The entire event crystallized a painful truth of modern American foreign policy: that in the current climate, power, capital, and brute force are treated as more significant allies than democracy, justice, or the rule of law. The red carpet was rolled out not for a friend, but for a profitable partner, whose crimes were, in the estimation of the White House, a mere unfortunate speed bump on the road to a trillion-dollar deal.
The Part They Hope You Miss
The strategic long-term danger of this legitimization is not the arms sales themselves, but the wholesale erosion of deterrence. When the United States signals that the price of a bone-saw murder is merely a brief period of diplomatic awkwardness followed by a five-star state visit and the designation of “major non-NATO ally,” it removes the floor from global decency. Every dictator, every oppressive regime, now has a clear, highly visible price tag for their worst offenses. The result is a world where human rights abuses are no longer a barrier to the most advanced technology or the highest diplomatic honors, but merely a temporary fee that can be paid off in oil futures. The White House was not only forgiving a murder; it was commodifying the entire concept of moral accountability for a profitable fee.