On the face of it, the mutual defence pact ceremoniously concluded between Saudi Arabia and Pakistan last week primarily formalises an arrangement that has been in place for six decades or so. However, the fraught regional outlook enhances its potential significance.

Although both sides suggest negotiations had been ongoing for years, there’s cause to wonder whether Israel’s 9 September airstrike on Doha might have expedited the signing ceremony. Likewise, the Pakistani military’s enhanced standing, both domestically and internationally, after it fared rather better than expected during the (thankfully brief) clash with India in May probably helped to propel the process.

Perhaps the biggest question is whether the bilateral declaration that “any aggression against either country shall be considered an aggression against both” includes the extension of Pakistan’s nuclear umbrella — unique in the Muslim world — across the Saudi kingdom. There is, so far, a degree of strategic ambiguity on this score. While Reuters quoted a senior Saudi official as saying that the “comprehensive defensive agreement … encompasses all military means”, Pakistani ministers have been rather more reticent about spelling out the implications.

“I don’t need uranium to make a bomb. I will just buy one from Pakistan,” Saudi crown prince Mohammed bin Salman purportedly told US Senator Lindsey Graham during a discussion on enrichment for energy purposes, according to American journalist Bob Woodward. It may not be futile to wonder whether he has now effectively sealed the deal, but any clarity on this front may not be forthcoming for a long time.

Shorter-term practical repercussions of the pact arguably deserve greater attention. Pakistan’s military role in Saudi Arabia evidently dates back to a defence co-operation agreement signed in 1967, enhanced by a protocol agreement in 1982 that, according to Ali Awadh Asseri, a former Saudi ambassador to Pakistan, “authorised the large-scale deployment of Pakistani forces in Saudi Arabia. At its peak, more than 20,000 Pakistani troops … were stationed in sensitive regions”.

There was no reciprocal Saudi deployment, beyond training facilities for the kingdom’s military personnel – but generous financial compensation, which reportedly included funding for Pakistan’s initially secretive development of nuclear weapons. The special relationship intensified during the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan, with the Saudis and the US bankrolling the mujahideen insurgency via Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence agency, which siphoned off some of the largesse for unrelated purposes.

The close ties — which had benefitted Pakistan during its 1965 and 1971 wars with India, and continue to offer an economic lifeline during the frequent rough patches between (or alongside) IMF bailouts — came in handy for the Sharif family when the present prime minister’s elder brother, Nawaz Sharif, was rescued by the Saudis from a death sentence after being overthrown in General Pervez Musharraf’s 1999 coup. Nawaz eventually returned to power, but tensions emerged when his administration proved unwilling to provide the troops that the Saudis and the UAE demanded for their 2015 assault on Yemen.

Ten years ago, the federal parliament in Islamabad vetoed any Pakistani involvement in the anti-Houthi war. Since then, the role of democratic institutions has diminished further under a form of hybrid military-civilian rule in which the army clearly has the upper hand. Former prime minister Imran Khan championed this form of governance, but eventually fell foul of it.

According to an outburst from his wife late last year, her husband’s downfall was triggered by a Saudi reprimand to the military hierarchy after a barefooted Imran turned up in Medina reflecting the demeanour of a religious pilgrim. Rumour has it that MBS was also incensed after he got wind of an attempt to resell a custom-made Rolex he had presented to the then PM. It’s perfectly plausible that Saudi displeasure played a more significant role in the military’s decision to dispense with Imran’s services than a minor US State Department official’s intervention.

Be that as it may, the tiff with Nawaz had evidently been smoothed over by 2017, when retired military chief Raheel Sharif (no relation) was appointed head of the Saudi-led (and mainly Sunni) Islamic Military Counter Terrorism Coalition, which now boasts 42 members ranging from Brunei to Burkina Faso. Whether it has notched up any successes remains unclear, even as Pakistan struggles to cope with terrorist violence in its north and west. The incidents are invariably blamed on India, which routinely returns the compliment.

Anyhow, in the light of the Saudi-Pakistani defence pact, the kind of questions that arise are: Would Islamabad be in any position to refuse participation if Riyadh resumed its assault on Yemen, or picked a fight with another neighbour? Israel is perhaps the unlikeliest target, but let’s not forget that the Saudis and Emiratis were almost on the verge of invading Qatar just a few years ago.

And how would the Saudis respond were India to renew Operation Sindoor, the military adventure it embarked on in May following a terrorist attack that targeted Hindus in Pahalgam, Kashmir?

India is officially still parsing the Saudi-Pakistani deal for its implications in the South Asian context, but the semi-official response has been that Delhi’s strategic relationship with Riyadh, firmed up over recent years, will not unduly suffer. Perhaps, although there are no guarantees. Taliban-ruled Afghanistan, meanwhile, enjoys better relations with India than with Pakistan (the birthplace of first-generation Taliban). How that might play out remains another concern.

Pakistan shares a long (and occasionally turbulent) border with Iran, which has historically been at loggerheads with Saudi Arabia, although relations in the wake of Chinese mediation have become considerably more civil, if not exactly friendly. There is no obvious reason why China — which has established cordial relations with the Saudis alongside its close ties (both military and economic) with Pakistan and a growing thaw in interactions with India — should be perturbed by the signing ceremony in Riyadh.

It is more than likely that both sides sought clearance from the Trump administration before inking the deal. Pakistan has been a military ally of the US since the 1950s. It’s not always been smooth sailing, but it is back in Washington’s good graces. In the Saudi case, the pater families of the oil kingdom’s ruling clan reached a mutually beneficial arrangement with Franklin Roosevelt as far back as 1945.

His far more ambitious grandson has lately been keen on a mutual defence pact with the US, but that offer was contingent on the Saudis joining the Abraham Accords to formalise their barely secret relationship with Israel – an endeavour complicated by developments over the past two years. Just a year ago, MBS reportedly explained his insistence on a Palestinian state by confessing to Joe Biden’s secretary of state Antony Blinken that while he didn’t personally care about the Palestinian issue, “my people do”.

During his visit to Riyadh in May, Donald Trump exulted over a US$142 billion arms deal and Saudi promises of investment in the US worth US$600 billion. Pakistan is obviously not the Saudis’ first choice as a mutual defence pact partner, but it will have to do. The extent to which it might make any meaningful difference in an unsettled (and troubling) region remains to be seen.

The views expressed in this article may or may not reflect those of Pearls and Irritations.