Can Turkey be a strategic partner for the European Union?

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With the proliferation of international conflicts and, in this worrying situation, growing doubts about the real intentions of the US president to continue protecting the Western world, the European Union (EU) has finally decided to rearm, but in a context of chronic inertia between political decisions, taken by 27 capitals each with their own say, parliamentary processes for budgeting and incorporating measures into military programming laws, and their effective implementation. Faced with this persistent slowness, where equipment procurement processes are completely out of step with the proven urgency of needs, many countries have begun looking for faster solutions. As a result, many eyes have turned to Turkey, an immediate geographical neighbour, an official candidate for membership of the European Union, a member of the Customs Union, and a NATO ally since the first wave of enlargement in 1952. With the second largest army in the Atlantic Alliance in terms of personnel, a steadily growing defence budget, and a defence industrial and technological base (DITB) that has become so significant that it now ranks eleventh worldwide in arms export equipment, Turkey is attracting renewed interest, to the point where the question arises as to whether it could, in the near future, become a strategic partner for European security.

The question becomes contentious almost as soon as it is raised. On social media, the Turkey-European Union (EU) relationship gives rise to radical positions, often based on notions of values, religious tradition, history, or the eternal questions surrounding Turkey’s geographical position that are more personal than pragmatic: is it a European country or not? Do the 3% of Turkish territory located on the European continent make it a European country? All this without being truly able to propose a clear definition of what the EU is: a historical, geographical, economic space, one rooted in Judeo-Christian tradition? It is this conceptual vagueness that crystallises the tensions between the “pros” on one side and the “cons” on the other, while the undecided prefer to refrain from becoming involved in a debate that is nevertheless crucial. The strategy of the “cons” consists of listing a series of irritants, some of which, it must be said, are justified, such as respect for the rule of law and, in the field of defence, the Courbet frigate incident[1] which is repeatedly cited in their arguments. It must nevertheless be acknowledged that the discomfort of the “cons” stems from observing the progress made by Ankara in defence, progress that reflects back, like an unflattering mirror, the shortcomings of European countries that have failed to develop, or to better support, their own defence industries. At a supranational level, this mirror reflects the European Union’s own weaknesses.

These weaknesses are first and foremost politico-military. When discussing operations within the framework of European defence, it must be recognised that, for the most part, these are crisis management, humanitarian and peacekeeping missions, the so-called Petersberg missions. Moreover, when it comes to providing resources for these operations, many states remember that they also contribute to NATO. The result: a cumbersome and slow politico-military process which, for some countries, leads only to the deployment of a handful of soldiers in headquarters or in the field. Furthermore, in the event of armed aggression against a Member State, the solidarity clause provided for in Article 42.7 of the Lisbon Treaty does not appear to be as binding as NATO’s Article 5, unless skilfully argued by lawyers.

The weaknesses are then doctrinal, between two visions: one that can be described as “strictly sovereignist”, which defends the idea of a fully autonomous European Union equipped with an endogenous and controlled DITB, and another, more pragmatic one, which takes greater account of realities on the ground by prioritising diversification of sources, especially given the urgency. The first vision has historically been upheld by France, the second by the Nordic, Baltic and Eastern European countries directly confronted with the Russian threat. By lifting its veto on the sale of Eurofighter fighter aircraft to Turkey in July 2025, Germany joined the second vision with a threefold success: filling a NATO “capability gap” on its southern flank and along the Black Sea, keeping aircraft production lines in service, and integrating Turkey into European processes according to the principle of “control through integration”, in order to prevent it, out of frustration, from entering into partnerships with countries such as Russia or China.

The weaknesses are finally structural, although the two organisations share the achievement of having managed to produce an impressive number of standards and procedures, whose consequences are administrative burdens, interminable decision-making processes, increasingly intrusive comitology, and the emergence of corrective measures, known as “simplification missions”, which themselves require their own organisation and resources. The European Union acts mainly through industrial and financial levers, while NATO, for its part, has operational levers, planning and the conduct of operations, as well as capability levers. Although fully integrated into NATO, with a human and financial contribution that allows other allies, particularly European ones, to ease their burden[2], Turkey finds itself excluded from almost all EU defence mechanisms. It is this mismatch that needs to be examined in the current context of rearmament, which began with the war in Ukraine, now in its fourth year since 24 February 2026.

Financially, the need to rearm in response to the return of high-intensity conflicts of this kind implies a dual obligation: to put an end to the period of “peace dividends” which, irresponsibly and in disregard of strategic anticipation, turned defence budgets into adjustment variables, and to lay the foundations for a genuine European defence. The first has been addressed through the increase in defence budgets as a share of gross domestic product (GDP), while the second is the subject of new texts such as the ReArm Europe/Readiness 2030 plan, of which SAFE (Security Action for Europe) is one of the five pillars, as well as EDIP (European Defence Industry Programme).

However, these new founding texts, although they demonstrate a genuine political awareness of the need to give the EU a credible role in defence, are notably lacking in detail and practical aspects: what types of equipment are to be acquired, at what precise pace by 31 December 2030, and from whom if the 65%/35% rule[3] comes up against the reality of the EU’s production capacities, particularly given the need to “regain mass”[4] as highlighted by the lessons drawn from the conflict in Ukraine? Since Europe cannot afford to fall behind a Russia that could rebuild its military forces, the diversification of supply sources is becoming an imperative necessity: hence the eligibility for SAFE joint procurement procedures of countries in the process of joining the EU, candidate countries, potential candidate countries, and also countries that have concluded a security and defence partnership with the EU, such as Albania, Canada, Japan, Moldova, North Macedonia, Norway, South Korea and the United Kingdom. Additional bilateral or multilateral agreements may even be concluded in order to broaden participation and eligibility conditions. Turkey is not among the beneficiaries of this instrument and the doors to industrial cooperation are not clearly open to it, mainly because of the blocking position of Greece and the Republic of Cyprus.

Yet the Turkish DITB is able to offer, within short timeframes and at reasonable costs, responses in a large majority of the areas being sought. Nearly 4,500 Turkish companies are directly involved in the defence industry. Turkey is currently conducting more than 1,400 defence programmes across all domains: land, naval, air, space, armaments and cyber, not including around 150 R&D programmes covering a wide range of areas such as artificial intelligence, nanotechnologies and quantum technologies. Although Turkey has not reached the technical level of advanced countries in cutting-edge fields such as engines and interception of very high-velocity targets, it is already able to meet, in large volumes, demands for mass in armoured vehicles, light and heavy weapons, ammunition and, above all, drones, given its now global reputation.

It is at this point that a crucial question arises: how can Turkey be considered an element of strategic depth for Europe and a force multiplier, without turning partnership tools into mechanisms of dependency?

First, it should be recalled that Turkey’s experience within European defence mechanisms is not new. An associate member of the Western European Union (WEU) in 1992, Turkey joined the Western European Armaments Organisation (WEAO) on 19 November 1996, from its creation in Ostend under the authority of the WEU, with the same rights and obligations as the other WEU members; it was as the WEU’s competences were gradually transferred to the European Union that Turkey found itself progressively excluded from the latter’s defence mechanisms. It is nevertheless an associate member of the Horizon Europe programme since its launch in 2021, with sustained activity in dual-use fields such as nanotechnologies and advanced materials, thanks to the active participation of Tübitak[5]. Within the framework of OCCAR[6], although it is not a full member of the organisation, Turkey has taken part in the A-400M military transport aircraft programme and the COBRA counter-battery radar programme. Turkish chiefs of staff regularly participate in high-level European military meetings such as EURAC (European Air Chiefs Conference) and CHENS (Chiefs of European Navies Conference). Turkish auditors are present at European Armaments Managers’ Sessions (SERA). Finally, Turkey has been a founding member of the Eureka network[7], of which the European Commission is a member, since its creation in 1985.

Turkey also takes part in many European initiatives outside the strict EU framework. As early as 2024, Germany included Turkey in its ESSI (European Sky Shield Initiative), which, within the NATO framework, aims to establish integrated air and missile defence in Europe. The United Kingdom has identified Turkey as a leading player, applying a much more flexible policy of “coalition-building” than the Europe of the 27, thereby facilitating the signing of high-level partnerships such as BAE/Nurol and BAE/TAI (Turkish Aerospace Industries). In Italy, the replacement of the Golden Share mechanism by Golden Power, which allows companies to carry out activities critical to the national interest without the state being a shareholder, enabled Baykar’s acquisition of Piaggio Aerospace, followed six months later by the strategic partnership between Baykar and Leonardo. Another example of a high-level initiative outside the strict EU framework is Spain, with NAVANTIA’s involvement in Turkish naval programmes, including the national aircraft carrier MUGEM. At the same time, other countries such as Poland, given the urgency of their needs in the face of the Russian threat, have opted for a so-called “bottom-up” approach by prioritising cost competitiveness and speed of production, thus becoming the first European buyer of Turkish drones. As a next step, Warsaw is currently negotiating the establishment on its territory of a 155 mm ammunition plant operated by the Turkish company MKE. There are many other examples of bilateral cooperation within the EU, such as Portugal, which has ordered two logistics support vessels for its navy from the Turkish company STM.

There are many reasons for these national initiatives outside the strict EU framework: disagreements over programme governance, differences in programme and procurement priorities for equipment, and the slowness of central mechanisms. While every contract signed bilaterally undeniably constitutes an additional building block in the construction of European defence capabilities, it must be acknowledged that the effects of this practice are pernicious, because an excessive preference for national approaches will, if such examples multiply too greatly, end up weakening European central institutions that are already the subject of much criticism. The logic of “convergent multilateralism”, essential to building a common defence mindset, will then give way to the proliferation of “transactional minilateralisms”, deemed more effective, but escaping Brussels’ control.

The “cons” mentioned earlier will no doubt observe that Turkey benefits from the fragility of the European defence model thanks to the attractiveness of its products: reasonable costs, rapid production, proven effectiveness in operations. This may be true according to the adage “business is business”, but it should be recalled that sales of Turkish military equipment fall within the principle of subsidiarity provided for in Article 5 paragraph 3 of the Treaty on European Union (TEU), which stipulates that “the Union shall act only if, and in so far as, the objectives of the proposed action cannot be sufficiently achieved by the Member States”. Aware, however, that it is not yet capable, in a fully autonomous manner, of being present in “first markets”, decade-long development cycles, such as fighter aircraft, submarines and battle tanks, Turkey’s strategy consists of investing in “second markets”, “military consumables”, such as light armoured vehicles, tactical drones, light weapons and ammunition[8]. Romania and Hungary have thus bought tactical armoured vehicles from Turkey, respectively COBRA II and Ejder Yalçın, with the establishment of a local assembly line for Romania, and the development of a local version named GidrÁN for Hungary. Estonia, for its part, has acquired both ARMA 6X6 and YÖRÜK 4X4 vehicles. Thus, in the current state of its DITB, and probably for years to come, Turkey does not constitute a serious threat to the giants of the “first markets” such as Airbus, Safran, Dassault or MBDA. This observation is all the more valid since Turkey is still not capable of gaining efficiency by freeing itself from its prejudices and cultural constraints: it trusts only Turks, and it is not tomorrow that major national companies such as Aselsan, Roketsan, TAI, Havelsan or Baykar will be represented in France by a French person capable of opening up high-level markets to them.

Given its capacity to provide a rapid and appropriate response in certain segments, Turkey not only can, but must become a strategic partner of the EU. Fears of Ankara preying on Europe’s major defence markets are, as we have just seen, unfounded, or at least not yet relevant. That is why it is important, from now on, to properly frame all the actions to be undertaken by establishing control mechanisms designed not to block, but to manage the Turkish offer.

A first mechanism would consist of ensuring the strict application of the principle of reciprocity, whether for establishments, company representation or management, or markets. Without this “firewall”, access to the European market by Turkish companies would, in the long term, come with no counterpart for companies from EU countries. The significant decline in the number of French companies present at Turkish arms fairs, such as IDEF and SAHA Expo, is symptomatic of this imbalance, in which Turkey is now seeking to export rather than to buy. Only French companies that have established a partnership with a Turkish company exhibit, but under the banner of their local partner. The French label is no longer visible.

The second would be to introduce “sunset” clauses so that, where necessary, an agreement could be quickly terminated if reciprocity is no longer respected, or if it turns to the disadvantage of Europeans. A review commission would be responsible for periodically assessing the conditions under which the agreement is implemented, with particular attention to the question of added value on both sides, and to the nature and volume of technology transfers.

The third, more supranational, would consist of relying on the European Defence Agency (EDA) to establish a coordination structure between the EU and Turkey. This structure would be tasked with coordinating markets at the European level, but without limiting or prohibiting them in accordance with the principle of subsidiarity mentioned above. It would allow all European companies to have a centralised view of markets in order to raise alerts about risks of competition or saturation. It could, if Member States so decide, issue recommendations with a view to effectively filling the gaps in the European defence industry. In an even more structured manner, consideration could be given to drawing inspiration from the bilateral administrative arrangements that the EDA has already signed with other countries such as Norway, Switzerland and Serbia.

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Beyond the gaps that persist between the Turkish political model and European criteria, gaps once again highlighted by the European Parliament’s 2025 report on Turkey, it is the vetoes of Greece and the Republic of Cyprus on Turkey’s participation in European defence mechanisms that constitute the main obstacles to a strategic partnership between Brussels and Ankara. But for the EU, the issue goes beyond the simple framework of the bilateral relationship: it involves making a choice between an autonomous European defence capability, illusory in the coming years, and pragmatic strategic depth including Turkey, which, given its defence capabilities, is already able to meet urgent needs and fill gaps in certain capability segments.

Thus, rather than persisting in opposing these two logics, it would be wiser, in the Europeans’ interest, to consider the Turkish DITB not as a competitor, but as a structuring element of European defence through the establishment of control mechanisms designed to prevent any unavoidable interdependence and any dominant position for Turkey. The urgent need to rearm in the face of the deterioration of the international situation must be an opportunity for the EU to rethink its defence partnership with Ankara.


[1] The event took place on 10 June 2020. Engaged in NATO’s Operation Sea Guardian, the FLF (stealth light frigate) COURBET was illuminated three times by the fire-control radar of a Turkish navy vessel as it was preparing to inspect the cargo ship ÇİRKİN, suspected of violating the United Nations arms embargo on Libya. The ÇİRKİN, flying the Tanzanian flag, had sailed from the Turkish port of Haydarpaşa. Escorted by the Turkish frigates TCG Gökova (F-496) and TCG ORUÇREİS (F 245), it had also benefited from air cover as it passed off the island of Psara, east of the island of Chios. In terms of rules of engagement, radar illumination is considered an act of war, as it is the final action before opening fire. The risk of this unacceptable act between allies would have been an immediate opening of fire by the COURBET.

[2] Turkish participation in the Berlin Plus-type operation Althea in Bosnia and Herzegovina is a concrete example of this.

[3] Council Regulation (EU) 2025/1106 of 27 May 2025 establishing the instrument “Action for the Security of Europe (SAFE)” through the strengthening of the European defence industry, Article 16, paragraph 10: “the cost of components originating from third countries to the Union, the EEA-EFTA States and Ukraine must not exceed 35% of the estimated cost of the components of the final product”. The EEA-EFTA States are the countries participating in the European Economic Area (EEA) through the European Free Trade Association (EFTA).

[4] Expression used by the military to define an army’s ability to deploy simultaneously a sufficient volume of human, material and logistical resources over time.

[5] Türkiye Bilimsel ve Teknolojik Araştırma Kurumu, Scientific and Technological Research Council of Turkey.

[6] Organisation for Joint Armament Cooperation.

[7] Eureka is an intergovernmental network created in 1985 to support international cooperation in market-oriented research, development and innovation. It brings together ministries and funding agencies from 47 countries as well as the European Commission, with each state funding participants under its national jurisdiction. But unlike EU framework research programmes such as Horizon Europe, EUREKA is not an EU programme.

[8] Julien Malizard, Josselin Droff, “Évolution des conflits et reconfigurations de l’industrie de l’armement : hypothèse des deux marchés”, Défense Industries, no. 18, June 2024.