»ªÌå»á

On the chessboard of Middle Eastern and Eurasian power politics, Turkey has mastered the art of playing on two fronts—one in the Middle East, the other in . This isn’t just a reaction to contemporary geopolitics; it is a deeply ingrained doctrine of statecraft forged through centuries of conflict, diplomacy, and imperial ambition. For Ankara, singular focus is a luxury it cannot afford—its survival and influence hinge on constant maneuvering, striking a delicate balance between regional aspirations and global realities.

Nowhere is this more evident than in Turkey’s historically complex and often adversarial relationship with Russia. For centuries, Ankara’s strategic imperative has remained unchanged: to check Russian expansion—not just eastward, but southward—where it directly threatens Turkey’s sphere of influence. From the bloody Russo-Turkish wars that spanned the sixteenth to twentieth centuries to Joseph Stalin’s 1945 for control over the Turkish Straits, Moscow’s ambitions have repeatedly tested Turkey’s resolve. The Cold War may have put direct military confrontation on ice under NATO’s security umbrella, but the underlying power struggle never truly disappeared.

For much of the twentieth century, Turkey’s role was largely passive, constrained by internal struggles and Cold War realities that left it dependent on Western security guarantees. But today, Ankara is no longer just a buffer state—it is a rising power actively shaping regional dynamics on its own terms. Nowhere is this transformation clearer than in its response to the war in Ukraine, where Turkey has leveraged its strategic position to challenge Russia, assert its , and redefine its role on the world stage.

To this day, Ankara still employs a classic strategy of deconfliction—arming Ukraine while maintaining economic ties with Russia, the Montreux Convention, and brokering diplomatic agreements. This balancing act defines Turkish statecraft: never fully committing, always hedging, and ensuring no single power dictates terms unilaterally.

Turkey’s ability to balance confrontation with diplomacy was on full display in November 2015 when a Russian Su-24 fighter jet strayed into Turkish—and, NATO—airspace. Ankara responded decisively, and making it clear that violations would not be tolerated.

Yet, just months later, President Recep Tayyip Erdogan made a sharp pivot, formally to Vladimir Putin in 2016—a calculated move that helped de-escalate tensions and led to the lifting of Russian .

Ankara had nonetheless made its stance unmistakable—cross the line again, and the response would be just as swift. Putin understood that accepting Erdogan’s apology was a smarter move than cornering Turkey, which could have complicated Russia’s military operations in Syria and strained a relationship Moscow couldn’t afford to lose.

It is following this logic that Turkey’s approach to Ukraine is driven by a set of carefully calculated strategic considerations. Just as Ankara has long maneuvered to check Russian influence in its immediate neighborhood, it views Ukraine as a critical piece in this broader balancing act.

Preventing in the Black Sea remains a, as a strong Ukraine serves as a counterweight to Russian expansion. This would help preserve Turkey’s strategic leverage in the region and, by extension, NATO’s. Strengthening its military-industrial base is another core objective, with and economic ties to Kyiv enhancing Turkey’s military autonomy and technological capabilities. 

At the same time, Ankara has as a key mediator, maintaining open channels with both Kyiv and Moscow to maximize its regional influence while preserving strategic flexibility. Beyond these immediate concerns, Turkey also sees the war as an its energy security by diversifying supply routes and reducing dependence on Russia, particularly by deepening ties with alternative suppliers in the and .

Moreover, Ankara’s engagement in Ukraine is not only about military and economic strategy but also about securing its broader geopolitical ambitions. The war has provided Turkey with additional leverage within NATO and the EU, strengthening its bargaining position and pushing for greater diplomatic and economic concessions from . At the same time, Turkey is its influence in post-Soviet states, particularly in the Turkic world, where it has been steadily expanding its political and economic reach as a counterweight to Russian influence.

This broader regional outreach is part of a larger strategic ambition—Turkey sees the conflict as a test case for its ability to act independently of both Russia and the West while shaping major geopolitical outcomes.

One of Turkey’s most significant moves has been its for Ukraine’s . This stance is not merely symbolic; it is a strategic bet on Ukraine’s long-term survival as a counterbalance to Russian power. For Ankara, a strong and independent Ukraine means a permanently checked Russia in the Black Sea, reinforcing Turkey’s historical efforts to prevent Russian naval dominance in its near abroad.

This position also aligns Turkey with a growing bloc of European states—particularly and Eastern European nations—that see both Ukraine and Turkey as essential to countering Russian aggression. Poland, in particular, has emerged as for deeper Turkish integration into European security structures, recognizing that a strategically engaged Turkey strengthens NATO’s southeastern flank.

Unlike most European countries, Turkey does not merely oppose Russia through diplomacy or arms shipments to Ukraine—it actively challenges Russian influence across multiple fronts where Western powers have largely. From Syria and Libya to the Caucasus and Central Asia, Ankara competes with Moscow for regional influence, often leveraging its military, economic, and diplomatic tools to counterbalance Russian ambitions. This makes Turkey’s role in the Ukraine war part of a much larger geopolitical chess game, one in which it seeks to assert itself as a key power broker in multiple regions rather than simply following a Western or Russian-led order.

In fact, Turkey holds the key to Russia’s military future in Syria. Moscow has long relied on its military bases in to project power through its advanced anti-access/area denial (A2/AD) in the eastern Mediterranean. However, these installations exist after Assad’s collapse largely at Turkey’s discretion. Ankara Northern Syrian airspace and has used its military presence in Idlib and elsewhere to limit Russian-backed Assad regime offensives. Should Turkey decide to escalate its actions in Syria and put pressure on the current government of Syria to limit Russia’s activities, Moscow’s ability to sustain these bases could be severely compromised.

More importantly, Europe has proven highly vulnerable to Russian information warfare, with Kremlin-backed disinformation campaigns sowing discord and fueling culture wars. Turkey, however, has shown more resistance to these tactics for two key reasons.

First, Turkey’s media and political discourse are dominated by domestic narratives rather than external ideological battles. In Europe, Russian disinformation often exploits existing divisions—between liberals and conservatives, pro- and anti-EU factions, or nationalist and globalist forces. In Turkey, however, political debates are overwhelmingly inward-looking, centered on national identity, security, and economic stability. This leaves less room for Russian narratives to take hold.

Second, Turkey’s dealings with Russia are purely transactional. While some European countries have been drawn into strategic dependencies—relying on Russian gas, banking networks, or business interests—Turkey plays the game differently. It buys Russian energy and weapons when convenient but has no illusions about Moscow. Turkey’s engagement with Russia remains pragmatic, competitive, and at times openly confrontational.

For the West, this is an underappreciated strength. Turkey’s resistance to Russian hybrid warfare makes it an asset in the broader fight against Moscow’s influence. Instead of keeping Ankara at arm’s length, NATO and the EU should recognize its strategic value.

For the West, the stakes are high: engage Turkey seriously or risk creating a geopolitical vacuum that Moscow will eagerly exploit. A sidelined Turkey won’t become a Russian ally, but it will act on its own terms, striking deals with Moscow when beneficial and complicating the Western security order.

That’s a strategic gift to the Kremlin. Every rift between Ankara and the West opens new opportunities for Russia—whether in energy, defense, or regional influence. Isolating Turkey doesn’t contain a challenge; it amplifies one and erodes NATO’s position while strengthening Russia’s ability to exploit divisions.

The issue isn’t whether Turkey is a difficult partner—it always has been. The issue is whether alienating it makes Europe safer. At this juncture, it most certainly doesn’t.