Trump Welcomes Saudi Crown Prince, Dismisses Intelligence on Khashoggi Murder

When Donald J. Trump greeted Mohammed bin Salman at the White House during his presidency, he didn’t just offer a handshake—he offered a shield. The Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia, the de facto ruler of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, had just set foot on U.S. soil for the first time since the brutal 2018 killing of Jamal Khashoggi, a Washington Post columnist and American permanent resident. And while U.S. intelligence agencies had concluded with high confidence that the Crown Prince personally approved the operation, Trump dismissed it outright. "They said he did it?" Trump reportedly said, according to PBS NewsHour correspondent Liz Landers. "We don’t know that." Here's the thing: this wasn’t just diplomacy. It was a deliberate act of political repair. Khashoggi’s murder in the Saudi consulate in Istanbul had sent shockwaves through Washington, Brussels, and beyond. The CIA, NSA, and FBI had all converged on one damning conclusion: Mohammed bin Salman ordered the hit. The U.S. sanctioned 17 Saudi officials under the Global Magnitsky Act. Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International demanded justice. But Trump? He looked past the bloodstains—and straight to the bottom line.

The Welcome That Defied the Evidence

The White House pulled out all the stops. Horse-mounted cavalry escorted the Crown Prince’s motorcade. F-15s roared overhead in tight formation. Rain began to fall just as the black-tie dinner got underway, a poetic touch no screenwriter would dare invent. Inside, Trump and bin Salman discussed two monumental deals: a Saudi pledge to invest "billions of dollars" in the U.S. economy and a new joint security pact. No specifics. No sectors named. No timelines. Just "billions." And yet, the message was clear: money and military cooperation outweighed moral accountability. Liz Landers, reporting live from the White House grounds, noted the stark contrast: "The president's comments directly contradict what the U.S. Intelligence community has concluded, that Mohammad bin Salman did approve the killing of Jamal Khashoggi back in 2018." That line wasn’t just journalism. It was an indictment.

Why Khashoggi’s Death Still Matters

Jamal Khashoggi wasn’t just a journalist. He was a critic who’d fled Saudi Arabia after growing disillusioned with its authoritarian turn. His columns in the Washington Post exposed corruption, surveillance, and the erosion of civil liberties under bin Salman’s rule. On October 2, 2018, he walked into the Saudi consulate in Istanbul to obtain paperwork for his upcoming marriage—and never walked out. Turkish authorities later revealed his body was dismembered by a 15-member Saudi hit squad, one of whom had trained in the U.S. The intelligence community didn’t just suspect bin Salman’s involvement—they had intercepted communications, tracked his movements, and analyzed the behavior of his inner circle. The CIA’s assessment, delivered to Congress in November 2018, was unequivocal: "We assess that the Crown Prince approved the operation to capture or kill Jamal Khashoggi." Trump, however, had a different calculus. Saudi Arabia was the largest buyer of U.S. weapons—over $110 billion in arms deals during his term. The kingdom was also a critical oil partner and counterweight to Iran. In Trump’s worldview, alliances were transactional. Principles were negotiable.

What This Meant for U.S.-Saudi Relations

Before the visit, U.S.-Saudi ties were frayed. European leaders had called for sanctions. U.S. senators had blocked arms sales. But after Trump’s embrace of bin Salman, the tide turned. Within months, the State Department quietly reversed its stance on arms exports. The Pentagon began joint military exercises with Saudi forces. And the kingdom’s "Vision 2030" economic reforms found new American backers—venture capitalists, construction firms, tech startups—all eager for a slice of the "billions." The joint security agreement, though never formally published, reportedly included expanded intelligence sharing on Iran, cybersecurity cooperation, and training for Saudi special forces. No mention of human rights conditions. No oversight mechanisms. Just mutual defense. It was a quiet coup: the world’s most notorious human rights abuser, once shunned by Western capitals, was now dining with the President of the United States as if nothing had happened.

What’s Next?

The promised Saudi investments? Still unverified. No public registry lists the companies involved. No contracts have been disclosed. Analysts suspect the "billions" are more promise than payment—a PR move to legitimize bin Salman’s global standing. Meanwhile, the U.S. Congress remains divided. Some Democrats have introduced bills to mandate transparency on Saudi investments. Republicans, emboldened by Trump’s precedent, argue that economic ties should not be held hostage to foreign policy disagreements. The Crown Prince, for his part, continues to court Western leaders. He’s met with Macron in Paris, Biden in Washington, and Merkel in Berlin. But none of those meetings carried the same symbolic weight as the one at the White House. That was the moment the U.S. chose profit over principle.

The Legacy of a Dismissed Truth

History will judge this moment not by the horsemen or the rain, but by the silence that followed. When the U.S. intelligence community speaks with one voice—and the President chooses to ignore it—what does that say about American values? Khashoggi’s murder wasn’t an isolated crime. It was a test. And the U.S. failed. The Crown Prince still rules Saudi Arabia. The investments may or may not materialize. But the precedent? It’s set. If you’re powerful enough, and rich enough, even murder can be washed away by a handshake and a promise of billions.