Since the second half of February 2026, the image of the United States in the foreign press has once again concentrated around three interrelated storylines: a forceful reformatting of global trade through new American tariffs, escalating confrontation alongside parallel negotiations with Iran, and Washington’s nuclear deal with Saudi Arabia. Against this backdrop, President Donald Trump’s annual State of the Union—“record” in length and pomp—became a kind of screen onto which each society projects its own fears and expectations. Saudi, Australian and Israeli discussions about America today do not resemble one another, but surprisingly converge in one respect: the United States is seen simultaneously as an indispensable security guarantor and as a source of growing instability.
The most notable shared nerve—in Riyadh, Jerusalem and Australia—is the Iran dossier. Israeli media dissect Trump’s address to Congress almost frame by frame, highlighting above all the inclusion in the terms of a future deal with Tehran not only of its nuclear program but also of missile development. In Israel Hayom, Professor of International Relations Avraham Ben‑Zvi notes that the U.S. president for the first time linked Iran’s ballistic missiles to the parameters of a possible agreement and made clear that Tehran’s refusal could lead to a military scenario, while reaffirming the intention to prevent the regime from acquiring nuclear weapons. In his assessment, this is the “big news for Israel” in a speech that deliberately leaves the choice of the American track ambiguous, but places the “last word” with Iran, while Washington is already thinking about Congressional elections and domestic division in the U.S. Such an analysis shows that the Israeli view of the U.S. still filters through an Iran‑centered threat and its expectations of American deterrence.
Other Israeli commentators see in the same speech not only a foreign policy message but also Trump’s targeted appeal to the American voter with an added Israeli agenda. A Walla commentator points out that, by speaking of “missiles capable of reaching the U.S.,” Trump absorbs the rhetoric of Benjamin Netanyahu: Iran is not only Israel’s problem but a direct danger to Americans. This, in his view, is simultaneously a gift to the Israeli prime minister and a strong signal to MAGA supporters: one should fear not only the crisis at the southern border or inflation, but also the distant Middle East. Thus Israel interprets American policy through the logic of the triangle “Trump—Netanyahu—Iranian threat,” where domestic electoral calculation and Middle Eastern strategy fuse.
Meanwhile, on the other shore of the Persian Gulf the conversation is already about not only Iran’s nuclear program but also the potential nuclear option for Saudi Arabia. Against this background, reports of a forthcoming bilateral nuclear deal between Washington and Riyadh that would allow the kingdom to build its own uranium enrichment capabilities are causing concern not only among U.S. nonproliferation advocates but also in neighboring countries. The Associated Press, analyzing leaks from Congress, emphasizes that the U.S. may abandon the “gold standard” of no enrichment and reprocessing—previously applied, for example, to the UAE—and thereby open the door for Saudi Arabia to technologies that create “military potential,” even if formally it is only about peaceful nuclear energy. For a regional audience this debate is far from academic: Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman has already said the kingdom will seek nuclear weapons if Iran does. In this context, Riyadh’s earlier defense pact with nuclear Pakistan, under which Islamabad has hinted at readiness to “extend the nuclear umbrella,” gives a very different tone to U.S.–Saudi negotiations over a 123 agreement.
The Saudi press is traditionally restrained, but Arab news aggregators and regional columns increasingly put the question bluntly: does Washington undermine its own nonproliferation policy by making an exception for a “key partner,” and does this not trigger a chain reaction of a race for “legal” nuclear potential in the Gulf? Political commentators recall that it was the U.S. that for decades built the regime of strict IAEA standards, including the Additional Protocol enabling snap inspections, and now is willing to overlook its absence in the Saudi case. For publics accustomed to thinking in terms of competition with Iran and Turkey, this is both an opportunity and a risk: Riyadh gains levers but pays by turning the region into an area of even greater strategic uncertainty, where any U.S. move is instantly read in Tehran and Jerusalem as a step toward escalation.
In Israel this storyline is read differently. Political and military commentators see potential Saudi enrichment as part of a broader picture in which the U.S. increases its military presence and creates a “deterrence umbrella” around Iran. Recent reports about the deployment of additional fifth‑generation F‑22 fighters to Israel—initially a dozen, then another six, forming a full squadron—are directly linked by Israeli and Arab sources to preparations for a possible strike on Iranian targets. According to Israel’s Channel 12, cited by the Palestinian agency Sada News, these aircraft are arriving as part of American preparations for an attack on Iran, and within days a full squadron will be deployed in Israel. For local commentators this confirms that Trump’s lines in Congress about “missiles that will soon be able to reach America” are not rhetoric but part of real military logistics.
This reading sharply contrasts with how America is seen in Australia, where the main irritant has become tariffs rather than aircraft or nuclear centrifuges. After the U.S. Supreme Court limited the president’s use of emergency powers from 1977 to impose tariffs, the Trump administration almost immediately announced a 10 percent global tariff under another 1974 law, and then its intention to raise it to 15 percent for a wide range of countries, including traditional allies. In Canberra this was perceived as a direct trampling on the spirit and letter of the 2005 bilateral free trade agreement. Minister for Trade and Tourism Don Farrell, in interviews with Australian media before departing for the annual G’Day USA event in Los Angeles, emphasized that his message to Washington would be unambiguous: Australia “expects the zero‑tariff agreement to be honored” and will oppose any unilateral U.S. steps that violate the free trade regime. He said this in conversations with Sky News and later in comments to The Australian, thereby turning a technical dispute over the legal basis of tariffs into a question of political trust in the American partner.
Interestingly, criticism of the global tariff plan in Australia is shared by some former U.S. officials. Former U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for Indo‑Pacific Affairs Daniel Kritenbrink told the Australian press that raising the baseline rate to 15 percent for allies such as Australia, Singapore and the UK “has no justification” and lacks reciprocity logic. He stresses that such steps undermine confidence in the U.S. as the steward of the liberal trading order, especially against the declared Washington goal of reducing Western dependence on China and strengthening supply chains for critical minerals. There is a paradox here: while the American administration urges Australia to reorient resource and technology exports away from Beijing, that same administration is effectively punishing Canberra for loyalty by erecting additional barriers to the American market.
Australian economic commentators point to another aspect: the domestic U.S. legal battle over the limits of presidential trade powers. After the Supreme Court blocked the previous tariff construct, the White House found a loophole in another law, demonstrating that “America, governed through the courts,” remains a source of institutional unpredictability for allies. This perception is markedly different from Israel’s, where the same Trump maneuvers are perceived primarily as manifestations of resolve and strength. In Australia the U.S. appears more as a giant that increasingly turns its weight against friends rather than foes.
Against this backdrop, in Australia, the Arab world and Israel alike there is close attention to the very style of political leadership in Washington. The Israeli portal Zman, in its daily political digest, mocks how Trump—having broken the record for the longest Congressional address—constructs his doctrine not on Theodore Roosevelt’s “speak softly and carry a big stick,” but on a formula of “speak about yourself and carry a big stick.” The journalist describes how the president again lists wars he allegedly “ended personally, including the still‑smoldering conflict in Gaza,” claims credit for freeing and finding all hostages, asserts that “Hamas worked with Israel,” and “dug until it found all the bodies.” The author concedes: Trump “digs and digs,” and it remains unclear where he is ultimately leading America and the world. But the key idea for the Israeli reader is not merely self‑praise but the constant assertion that “our enemies fear us, the army is stronger than ever, and America has regained respect.”
In the Arab information space, especially in regional news roundups, a different aspect comes to the fore. Moroccan Anwar Press, in its world events review, calls Trump’s address to Congress the main event of the day and notes that it occurs against intersecting processes: U.S.–Iran negotiations, reciprocal military exchanges and demonstrations of force in the Persian Gulf. For the Arab reader it is important that the American president himself describes the situation as a “historic turning point” achieved by his administration. At the same time, such reviews promptly remind readers of parallel crises—from Ukraine to Sudan—showing that the U.S. remains a global actor whose moves regarding Iran and Saudi Arabia are seen as part of the overall mosaic of world conflicts.
Curiously, it is precisely in Israeli and Arab press that the theme of a possible new U.S.–Iran deal sounds with a notable tone of destiny. Walla quotes Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi, who two days before Trump’s speech said on X that there is a “historic chance” to reach an agreement with the U.S. at the upcoming third round of talks in Geneva and stressed that a deal is “within arm’s reach,” but only if “diplomacy is put first.” Against the American president’s warnings about “bad things” awaiting Iran if talks fail, such optimism from Tehran elicits a mixture of skepticism and concern in Israel: analysts debate whether this is a real rapprochement of positions or a tactical maneuver by Iran to ease some sanction pressure while preserving strategic programs. In any case, for public opinion both in Israel and in the Gulf countries, the U.S. sits at the center of a complex game where it simultaneously tightens pressure and keeps the door open for a deal.
Finally, one must note how all three countries read the balance between the American foreign and domestic agendas. Israeli commentators detail the domestic context of the speech: the president’s low approval ratings, slow economic growth, and fierce midterm election battle. Bizportal, a site specializing in financial markets, emphasizes that Trump, addressing Americans against worrying macroeconomic indicators, seeks to sell them a narrative of strength—from “border control” and a “historic turning point” in Venezuela to a hard line against Iran and conflicts over tariffs and the Supreme Court. For the Israeli audience this is not mere background: how convincing this narrative proves to American voters will determine continued military aid to Israel, U.S. willingness to take risky confrontation with Iran, and the U.S. approach to the Palestinian issue.
In Australia, the U.S. domestic battle over tariffs is perceived primarily through the prism of Australia’s own economic interests. Local politicians and experts speak of “Washington’s unpredictability” as a risk factor for Australian exports and for the entire architecture of Indo‑Pacific alliances. Notably, criticism comes not only from the opposition but also from figures close to Washington, like the aforementioned Kritenbrink, which makes it particularly weighty for the Australian audience: this is not simply a complaint from a small partner but part of a broader Western debate about the direction of Trump’s “tariff nationalism.”
The Saudi—and broader Arab—perspective is even more cynical: they see that the U.S. is willing, for immediate geopolitical and economic goals, to bend its own principles—whether WTO trade rules or strict IAEA standards. Hence a dual attitude: Washington remains an indispensable security patron and a source of key technologies, but at the same time turns into a power whose decisions and domestic vicissitudes literally determine whether the region will live in the shadow of a nuclear race and new wars.
The result is a complex but telling image of America through the eyes of Saudi Arabia, Australia and Israel at the end of February 2026. For Israel, the U.S. is still the main guarantor of security, whose hard line against Iran is welcomed, but whose domestic political turbulence raises questions about long‑term predictability. For Australia, Washington is a senior partner whose willingness to sacrifice allies’ interests for domestic political agendas and tariff experiments undermines trust in the very notion of “allied commitments.” For Saudi Arabia, America is an indispensable patron and simultaneously the architect of new risks: whether the Middle East becomes a zone of managed deterrence or finally descends into mutual nuclear blackmail depends on how consistently Washington structures a nuclear deal with Riyadh and its line toward Iran.
What these perspectives share is one thing: the world no longer looks at the U.S. as the stable center of the liberal order. America is becoming a dynamic, contradictory actor whose sharp moves—whether raising tariffs, deploying fighters, or softening nonproliferation standards—are perceived in Riyadh, Canberra and Jerusalem not as “natural leadership,” but as a factor to which one must constantly adapt by developing one’s own safety nets and scenarios in case Washington changes the rules of the game once again.
