The new U.S.-Saudi Arabia nuclear cooperation agreement, which is now with Congress for its mandatory review, upholds “the highest standards of nuclear safety and nonproliferation,” at least according to U.S. Energy Secretary Chris Wright. U.S. President Donald Trump posted on social media that there will be “no enrichment” in Saudi Arabia under the deal. But anyone reading the agreement would be surprised to learn that it includes a two-year study on the feasibility of uranium enrichment in the kingdom—a technology that can be used to produce fuel for reactors or nuclear bombs. It also does not require Riyadh to adopt the Additional Protocol, a set of enhanced international inspections that help detect covert nuclear activities. These are concerning conditions, particularly given Saudi officials’ past threats to obtain nuclear weapons if Iran does.
The Trump administration’s sales pitch instead frames the deal as a multibillion-dollar opportunity for U.S. nuclear companies. Officials have also downplayed the pathway to enrichment and claimed that, if enrichment happens at all, it will be through a U.S.-built, owned, and operated “black box” facility in Saudi Arabia years down the road. And because the latter has reportedly agreed to rely exclusively on U.S. suppliers, other pathways to the technology would effectively be cut off for the duration of the 30-year agreement. Reading between the lines, the administration’s argument boils down to the following: The deal’s nonproliferation shortcomings don’t matter because the United States controls the program, and it won’t let Riyadh proliferate.
The new U.S.-Saudi Arabia nuclear cooperation agreement, which is now with Congress for its mandatory review, upholds “the highest standards of nuclear safety and nonproliferation,” at least according to U.S. Energy Secretary Chris Wright. U.S. President Donald Trump posted on social media that there will be “no enrichment” in Saudi Arabia under the deal. But anyone reading the agreement would be surprised to learn that it includes a two-year study on the feasibility of uranium enrichment in the kingdom—a technology that can be used to produce fuel for reactors or nuclear bombs. It also does not require Riyadh to adopt the Additional Protocol, a set of enhanced international inspections that help detect covert nuclear activities. These are concerning conditions, particularly given Saudi officials’ past threats to obtain nuclear weapons if Iran does.
The Trump administration’s sales pitch instead frames the deal as a multibillion-dollar opportunity for U.S. nuclear companies. Officials have also downplayed the pathway to enrichment and claimed that, if enrichment happens at all, it will be through a U.S.-built, owned, and operated “black box” facility in Saudi Arabia years down the road. And because the latter has reportedly agreed to rely exclusively on U.S. suppliers, other pathways to the technology would effectively be cut off for the duration of the 30-year agreement. Reading between the lines, the administration’s argument boils down to the following: The deal’s nonproliferation shortcomings don’t matter because the United States controls the program, and it won’t let Riyadh proliferate.
That logic is worth probing as Congress considers the deal, especially because the administration’s claims about exclusivity and the black box do not appear in the agreement and instead may sit in private side letters attached to the agreement.
Three things need to be true for the administration’s bet to pay off. First, the arrangement, known colloquially as a “123” agreement, must genuinely be an exclusive partnership in which the United States decides who can participate. U.S. officials have said that the agreement makes Washington Riyadh’s “partner of choice.” The deal’s text includes an expression of “intent” by Riyadh to work with the United States and commits the kingdom to buying nuclear technology from qualified U.S. partners. But these characterizations stop short of specifying that the United States and its designees are the only partners that Riyadh can choose. If there’s wiggle room in the text, Saudi Arabia could pursue enrichment on its own or with third-party help should Washington refuse to provide it.
Second, the United States must be able to deliver on its end of the deal. That means building large-scale reactors in Saudi Arabia on a reasonable timeline and budget, which is no small feat given the U.S. industry’s limited experience. The most likely candidate is Westinghouse’s AP1000 model. Whether the company can use its experience building in China and the United States—where reactors arrived late, billions over budget, and pushed the company into bankruptcy—to improve performance remains unclear. Regardless, sequencing the build in Saudi Arabia with other planned AP1000 projects in the United States and abroad will require careful project and supply-chain management to ensure that Westinghouse does not bite off more than it can chew. A delayed and over-budget project in Saudi Arabia would undercut Washington’s efforts to position itself as a serious player in the global reactor market—one of the deal’s main selling points—and give Riyadh leverage to press for greater latitude on enrichment while threatening to take its business elsewhere.
Third, and most critically, the United States must prioritize nonproliferation in its relationship with Saudi Arabia and in its policy more broadly. The same text that gives Washington the power to say no to enrichment in Saudi Arabia also gives it the power to say yes. And while a U.S. “black box” facility would be preferable to Riyadh possessing the technology, that approach comes with its own risks: What if the kingdom secretly steals the technology or seizes the facility?
Trump’s transactional diplomacy and impulse to frame deals, including this one, as jobs and money for the United States could lead him to sideline nonproliferation further. He has already signaled a willingness to potentially let South Korea enrich uranium as part of a nuclear-powered submarine project, ostensibly in exchange for its investments in U.S. shipbuilding. It’s easy to imagine a similar scenario with Saudi Arabia when the enrichment feasibility study concludes in two years.
The concerns extend beyond Trump. The decades-long consensus in the United States against “friendly proliferation” is under strain, with some arguing that nuclear-armed allies are inevitable or even beneficial in deterring Russia, China, and North Korea. Global nonproliferation norms have also eroded, with great powers increasingly making exceptions to the rules for allies in the name of geopolitical competition. These trend lines are concerning. The United States may not be willing to hold a no-enrichment line on Saudi Arabia or other nuclear partners who ask for the same terms, and Russia and China might offer similar deals to their allies.
Washington must simultaneously address the drivers of Riyadh’s potential interest in nuclear weapons. That means containing the Iranian nuclear threat, which Saudi Arabia’s crown prince has said could trigger a weaponization effort, and maintaining adequate security commitments to Riyadh.
For these reasons, Congress must seek clarity from the Trump administration on the deal’s terms and its commitments to nonproliferation. It should also consider additional legislation to place guardrails on the implementation of the agreement, should it survive congressional review. Such legislation could require, for example, an annual intelligence assessment of Saudi Arabia’s nuclear intentions and capabilities, rapid notification to Congress about any activities that deviate from Riyadh’s commitments, and prohibitions on the construction of a U.S. enrichment facility unless Riyadh accepts further restrictions and transparency measures, including, at a minimum, the Additional Protocol. These measures would not guarantee Saudi Arabia would not embark on a weapons project, but they would reduce the odds and ensure that the agreement is subject to strict scrutiny.
