Photo illustration by John Lyman

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The Deals That Keep Turkey Tied to the West

The Mecca Defense Agreement has sharpened concerns about Turkey’s increasingly autonomous posture toward the West. For Washington, it raises a broader challenge: how can the U.S. sustain its influence when strategically important countries have more partners to choose from and fewer reasons to commit exclusively to one camp? Alliances still matter, but neither formal commitments nor isolated deals are enough. Individual transactions must help build relationships that make continued cooperation more valuable and strategic separation more costly.

For today’s global swing states, that means agreements that deepen their investment in Western institutions, technologies, and security arrangements. The “re-Europeanization” of Franco’s Spain offers a useful example of how that process can work. Modern Turkey demonstrates both its continuing relevance and its limits.

A NATO ally since 1952, Turkey is also among the middle powers that have been expanding their non-Western partnerships. Its importance to Middle Eastern security and the alliance makes its choices particularly consequential. Washington must maintain cooperation with a country whose strategic interests increasingly diverge from its own, without assuming that NATO membership will resolve those differences.

Franco’s Spain provides a historical comparison because cooperation with the United States developed despite substantial political tension. Spain entered the Western geopolitical sphere while still under Francisco Franco, who rose to power with German and Italian support during the Spanish Civil War. The objections to accommodating his dictatorship were considerable. A 1947 pamphlet, The Marshall Plan and Franco, held in the Hoover Institution Archives, warned that “the assistance necessary to put the Spanish economy on its feet while Franco remains in power would make a mockery of the high principles from which the Marshall Plan derives.”

Yet Spain’s reintegration into the Western order became an explicit, if quietly pursued, U.S. foreign policy goal. The “progressive normalization of Spanish relations” was named as a “primary U.S. objective” as early as 1949. Washington’s opposition to Franco’s regime coexisted with a growing interest in bringing Spain into the emerging Western security architecture.

Those positions were not necessarily contradictory. Normalization did not require unconditional assistance. As early as 1951, U.S. policymakers insisted that “aid should be given only if we are satisfied that by so doing we are advancing Spain closer to participation in NATO.” Assistance could serve a strategic purpose beyond the immediate exchange, creating incentives for further cooperation without resolving every political disagreement.

The distinction matters: some transactions end when the goods or money change hands; others establish relationships that shape subsequent choices. The most effective agreements offer immediate benefits while making future separation harder. Under the 1953 Madrid Agreement, Washington gained access to Spanish military facilities, drawing Spain further into the Western security system. The bargain met an immediate American need while giving both countries reasons to sustain their relationship.

The 1959 economic stabilization program extended this process into the economic sphere. Spain joined the Organisation for European Economic Co-operation, or OEEC, liberalized trade and investment, and relied on Western financing. These changes increased the costs of a return to economic isolation. Spain’s integration with the West began well before its democratization, establishing connections that would outlast the dictatorship.

That integration proved resilient after Franco’s death. Despite substantial domestic opposition to NATO and U.S. bases, Spanish voters ultimately supported continued NATO membership in the 1986 referendum. The outcome did not erase disagreements about Spain’s relationship with Washington. It nevertheless showed that cooperation built over decades could survive a profound change in the country’s political system.

The comparison with Turkey has clear limits. Franco’s Spain operated in an extraordinarily unequal relationship: its economic rehabilitation and security depended heavily on access to Western institutions. Turkey has considerably more room to maneuver. Its position at the junction of East and West gives it more viable non-Western partners than Spain had, allowing Ankara to pursue alternatives while retaining the benefits of NATO membership.

The ruling Justice and Development Party has sought to capitalize on that position, rebranding Turkey from a reliable Western ally into a “free agent and world power in its own right.” Its participation in the Mecca Defense Agreement with Pakistan and Saudi Arabia illustrates this ambition. The agreement represents a framework for defense cooperation with implications beyond an immediate military contingency. The three countries have announced plans for joint military exercises, defense-industrial cooperation, technology development, and sustainable maintenance and logistics support. Over time, such arrangements could give Turkey alternatives to some Western systems and relationships.

Washington cannot simply recreate the dependence that helped draw Spain into the Western order. Turkey’s ability to hedge among partners makes exclusive alignment much less attainable. But the same constraint applies to Beijing and Moscow: in a multipolar world, none can assume that middle powers will permanently choose its side. These countries have incentives to preserve their options and extract benefits from competing relationships.

The more realistic objective is to make participation in Western systems valuable enough that Turkey has compelling reasons to maintain it. Turkish autonomy is not, in itself, a failure for Washington. The question is whether meaningful interdependence survives political disputes and Ankara’s pursuit of other partners. Cooperation need not be exclusive to remain strategically important.

The F-35 dispute illustrates the stakes. Washington removed Turkey from the program in 2019 after Ankara purchased Russia’s S-400 air-defense system. Turkey has since sought ways to offload that system to regain access to American warplanes. Although Turkey has still not met the U.S. requirements for returning to the program, its efforts point to the continuing appeal of Western military technology. Seeking alternatives to Western partners has not eliminated Ankara’s interest in the capabilities they provide.

The significance extends beyond the aircraft themselves. Advanced weapons platforms create lasting relationships through interoperability, technological standards, training, maintenance, and support. Replacing a supplier can mean replacing much of that surrounding infrastructure. Western and non-Western countries can deepen their ties with Turkey simultaneously, but those ties are not necessarily interchangeable. The value of an established system lies partly in the relationships needed to keep it operating.

Washington should therefore structure its support for global swing states around capabilities and relationships that are difficult to replace, particularly in advanced weapons and technology. Immediate transactions should contribute to a durable stake in continued cooperation. Spain’s experience does not prove that such ties guarantee political alignment, nor does it offer a formula that can be transplanted intact to Turkey. It does show how repeated agreements can reshape the costs and benefits of future strategic choices. For Washington, sustaining those incentives is a more attainable objective than demanding exclusive loyalty in a world where its partners have other options.