In an era when regional multilateral deals are stalling, China and Saudi Arabia are seemingly forging an alternative path, choosing a more streamlined route defined by the convergence of ambition, infrastructure, and mutual need. At the heart of this agreement is the alignment between Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030 and China’s Belt & Road Initiative (BRI), signaled at an August 27 meeting in Beijing.
Like the princess and the pea, the increasingly positive relationship between China and Saudi Arabia is likely to affect global trade in small ways that eventually emerge as significant shapers. Washington’s attempts to isolate China only work when the rest of the world agrees, and while most Western nations might be sympathetic to President Trump’s hawkish attitude toward China, rich Gulf nations are not. This is why the BRI and Vision 2030 have facilitated bilateral trade between the two nations at a time when multilateral talks are faltering.
The BRI is Beijing’s sweeping global agenda. Launched in 2013, it aims to weave together land and maritime logistical routes (roads, railways, ports, pipelines, and digital infrastructure) across more than 150 countries and international organizations—principally in Africa, Asia, and South America. But it is about more than connectivity: its goals include “policy coordination, trade facilitation, financial integration, and even cultural exchange.” Conceived as a way to expand Chinese market access and reshape global value chains, the initiative has taken on a more directorial attitude toward so-called “partners,” requiring them to adopt greener projects and policies (such as the “Green Silk Road”), while increasing reliance on Chinese imports, manufacturers, and heavy industry, and leverage the wider international community into being less reliant on the dollar and more on the yen.
Saudi Vision 2030, meanwhile, represents Riyadh’s attempt to rewire its economy for the post-oil age, emphasizing diversification, water security, and a more “global” economy. Announced in 2016 under Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the plan revolves around three pillars: a vibrant society, a thriving economy, and an ambitious nation.
Its ambition is broad: first and foremost, reducing oil dependency, expanding the private sector, allowing for greater market liberalization, and positioning Saudi Arabia as an attractive center for global investment (foreign direct investment, or FDI).
The megaprojects that are the backbone of this initiative are headline-grabbing:
The most notable is NEOM, the futuristic $500 billion city in the desert;
“The Line” as part of NEOM, a linear arcology powered by renewables;
The Red Sea tourism hub, intending to provide “six world-leading destinations along Saudi Arabia’s west coast” (already operational since 2023); and
Qiddiya, a vast entertainment complex which bills itself as the “first city built for play,” under construction since 2019.
Each project is supported by the Public Investment Fund, which is funneling capital into both domestic and global ventures, targeting $100 billion in annual FDI by 2030. Vision 2030 is as much about cultural and social modernization as it is about economics, with reforms in entertainment, sport, and social freedoms accompanying the industrial shift—famously, the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia owns Newcastle FC, in the north of my own country.
The basic symmetry between BRI and Vision 2030 is obvious: China needs secure energy suppliers and reliable partners to anchor its infrastructure corridors; Saudi Arabia needs capital, technical know-how, and access to global markets to deliver its diversification targets.
The alignment is, therefore, strategic: China can export its infrastructure, finance, and industrial capacity, while Saudi Arabia offers geographical positioning, energy security, and willingness to experiment with reform.
Saudi Arabia’s initial concern was that a wave of cheap Chinese imports could flood into the entire Gulf region, undermine its emerging industrial presence, and jeopardize Vision 2030’s industrialization program. This tension was less about China itself than about safeguarding nascent local industry, the fruition of which could secure Saudi Arabia’s long-term economic sovereignty, from premature exposure.
Yet bilateral trade is now thriving. In 2024, Saudi Arabia exported $57 billion to China, over 80% of which was crude oil. China exported nearly $50 billion into the Kingdom, led by smartphones, solar panels, and cars. This asymmetric but complementary trade flow remains the bedrock of their relationship. At the August 27, 2025, meeting in Beijing, Commerce Minister Wang Wentao and Saudi Investment Minister Khalid Al-Falih signed minutes of their Trade, Investment, and Technology Committee and mapped out new opportunities in capital markets, logistics, energy, and shipbuilding.
For Beijing, this partnership helps offset deteriorating trade relations with Western markets, where Chinese exports face tariffs and accusations of market flooding. For Riyadh, the calculus is about finding an external partner with both the scale and appetite to support the domestic transformation that Vision 2030 demands. By binding BRI to Vision 2030, the Kingdom secures infrastructure financing and industrial expertise, while China anchors its Middle East energy corridor and diversifies away from Western consumers.
The broader context underscores the stakes. In May 2025, Premier Li Qiang urged both ASEAN and Gulf states to remove trade barriers and reaffirm WTO-centered systems, implicitly warning of protectionism’s destabilizing force. Yet protectionism persists (and is likely to as long as President Trump shapes global trade), and that makes bilateral pacts attractive: quicker to negotiate, tailored to mutual needs, and less vulnerable to bloc-level disagreements—something that the EU is learning the hard way.
For Saudi Arabia, Vision 2030 is still very much in motion. Progress is visible in the liberalization of entertainment, the rise of renewable energy projects, and an influx of international investment, from asset managers to tech firms. But the risks are also evident: megaprojects risk overshadowing small and micro enterprises, and heavy reliance on state-led spending could stifle private entrepreneurship. Still, reforms in licensing, digital governance, and logistics suggest that the ecosystem for business is broadening.
The China–Saudi partnership sits at this intersection of ambition and caution. The Kingdom is pursuing an internal overhaul, but it needs external partners with both capital and industrial heft. China, faced with geopolitical pushback elsewhere, is keen to anchor itself in the Gulf. For both sides, this isn’t a temporary workaround; it’s a structural choice. When the multilateral Gulf gate creaks shut, the bilateral China–Saudi window remains open, framed by BRI on one side and Vision 2030 on the other.
What emerges is not merely transactional trade, but a convergence of strategic projects, investment flows, and national transformations. It is pragmatic, forward-facing, and highly intentional: a partnership that might well become the model for a world where multilateral economic blocs are breaking down, and proves too slow to keep up with the pace of national ambition.
The post Saudi–China Relations was first published by the Foundation for Economic Education, and is republished here with permission. Please support their efforts.
