Tested by Houthi’s drones and undermined by Riyadh’s plea to Washington and Tel Aviv, the historic alliance faces a critical choice as the regional dispute threatens to cross the boundaries of West Asia and spill into South Asia
In August, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and President Recep Tayyip Erdogan stood in the halls of Al-Safa Palace to sign a historic trilateral defence pact. The goal of the alliance was quite clear: strategic cooperation, a defence alliance and peace. Yet, it took just six weeks for Iran-backed Houthis to call the alliance’s bluff before either Turkey or Pakistan could even ratify the text.
Following NATO’s Collective Defence Alliance model, the Mecca Joint Defence Agreement united Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and Pakistan under a single security umbrella. The division of labour was simple: Riyadh, rich in oil, would supply petrodollars. Ankara, NATO’s second-largest standing army, would supply advanced weaponry and military technology and nuclear-armed Islamabad would provide frontline military manpower. But while signing the pact in Mecca, on August 7th, neither Ankara nor Islamabad could have predicted that on the 16th of the next month, Riyadh would be intercepting Houthi drones just south of the very same holy city from which the pact derives its name. Before that, Ansar Allah’s missiles had already been striking hard Saudi oil facilities, damaging energy infrastructure and wounding dozens of people, and by the dawn of September 19th, one had reached the Kingdom’s capital itself, where it was intercepted just over King Khalid International Airport.
Despite repeated diplomatic condemnation of the militia group and concerted affirmation for Riyadh, no substantial action has been taken by either partner to mediate or intervene in the escalating crisis so far, and neither Ankara nor Islamabad have any legal responsibility to “step in” yet, as the defence pact awaits formal parliamentary ratification in both capitals; nor has Riyadh officially asked for their “military aid” so far.
Crown Prince calls Washington and Tel-Aviv
However, the silence reveals a deeper strategic paradox. US media reports indicate that Saudi’s Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman pressed the Trump administration for Washington’s intervention in the war twice in a single day during private phone calls, urging military action against the Houthis as they closed in on the Bab-al-Mandeb chokepoint, which, however, was denied by the US President. Meanwhile, diplomatic sources from Jerusalem suggested that Riyadh, indirectly through CENTCOM, approached Tel Aviv to share their intelligence assistance. These backdoor overtures raise obvious questions as to why Riyadh has refrained from publicly pressing its traditional strategic partner, Islamabad and recently forged ally, Ankara, half as hard. Crucially, the Mecca Pact is not even the only mechanism Riyadh can invoke. Just a week prior to the treaty, Saudi Arabia bound 14 nations, including Turkey and Pakistan, into a Multinational Maritime Defense Alliance built specifically to secure the Red Sea, Bab-al-Mandeb and the Gulf of Aden from Houthi threats.
So, no, Riyadh didn’t spend a year negotiating these agreements for them to just sit on a shelf as a mere political gesture. It was designed for Ankara’s strategic defence and Islamabad’s military to be politically committed to its defence the moment a conflict like this erupts. Yet the moment the crisis emerged, Riyadh’s reflex action remained anchored towards Washington.
The Unclaimed Attempt on Hijaz
That reflex, however, may not survive what happened on September 16th. The Royal Saudi Air Defence Forces intercepted a Houthi drone south of Mecca before it entered Hijaz’s restricted airspace, triggering the city’s security alert for the first time since 2017. Coalition spokesman Turki al-Maliki called the security of the two holy mosques a “red line.” The Houthis denied targeting Mecca at all, calling the claim misinformation, with Abdul-Malik al-Houthi accusing Saudi Arabia of a ‘major lie’. Between two conflicting parties, whoever is telling the truth doesn’t matter for the world’s 1.9 billion Muslims, for whom an attack that endangers Hijaz crosses a line no attack on a refinery ever could.
Ankara steps up as Islamabad hesitates
Strong condemnation was issued by both partners, with Pakistan’s Defence Minister Khawaja Asif making a sharp statement that: “There is absolutely no ambiguity about the pact’s application if the territorial integrity or geographical boundaries of any of the three countries were violated.” However, when asked how it would actually be operationalised, the Foreign Office retreated behind official jargon, claiming “operational confidentiality requires us to be discreet”. Strikingly, though, on Saturday, Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan, publicly offered Saudi Arabia its military assistance under the trilateral defence pact, adding that any military needs would likely focus on specific technical areas.
An ‘iron fist’ warning from Houthis
As a response, on Monday, the Iran-backed Houthis issued a direct warning to Ankara and Islamabad, threatening a decisive response if either country intervened militarily alongside Saudi. “By God, if Türkiye and Pakistan become involved, we will strike them with an iron fist”, were the remarks made by Mohammed al-Bukhaiti, a Houthi political bureau member, on an Iraqi television. A day later, Houthi leader Abdul-Malik al-Houthi followed with his own warning on al-Masirah TV, telling both countries not to let “political or economic interests” with Riyadh drag them into a fight that, in his words, ends the moment Saudi Arabia stops bombing and lifts its blockade. Neither Ankara nor Islamabad has responded to any of those threats so far; however, a missile reaching Riyadh, alarms sounding in Hijaz and a militia naming Pakistan and Turkey directly proves that the tipping point might no longer be theoretical.
Impact on South Asia
It might not be an overreach to assume that Islamabad and Ankara might be forced to get the pact ratified by their parliaments, sooner rather than later. An ensuing military response against Houthi forces will inevitably drag Tehran into a direct fallout with both Islamabad and Ankara. For Iran, Houthis are a critical pillar of their regional security and a lever of regional dominance it has spent almost two decades building. For Islamabad, any rupture with Iran will destabilise its western border, something the state can’t afford when tensions on the Afghan border are running equally high following recent airstrikes. For Ankara, standing opposite Iran might risk affecting its strategic balance of power in Damascus. Any such clash would not remain confined to West Asia only. It would collapse the traditional geographic boundary between West Asia and South Asia, shattering the neutral stance of non-signatory regional powers and triggering devastating economic shocks, with disruptions in the Red Sea and Persian Gulf already sending crude prices and freight rates through the roof.
The three capitals now find themselves trapped in a dilemma they created themselves. Formalising the pact and intervening militarily risks igniting a regional war and shattering South Asia’s fragile neutrality. But doing nothing renders their “historic” strategic pact useless, especially now after an explicit threat has named two of its three signatories. As Houthi drones continue to probe into Saudi airspace, the three powers face the delicate task of preserving the agreement’s strategic weight without triggering an unimaginable regional escalation and the true test for Riyadh, Ankara and Islamabad will not be whether they can launch a joint military campaign or not, but whether they can leverage their combined diplomatic and defensive pact to enforce stability across the region without being drawn into an unmanageable conflict.
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