Turkey’s Strategic Autonomy: Between NATO and a New Regional Security Architecture
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On 7 August, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, and Pakistan signed the Makkah Joint Defence Agreement, establishing a mutual-defence framework under which an attack against one signatory is regarded as an attack against all three. The agreement envisages expanded military, defence-industrial, and technological cooperation.
Its significance is difficult to overlook. It brings together Pakistan, a nuclear-armed power; Saudi Arabia, a major energy producer and pivotal actor in the global oil economy; and Turkey, NATO’s second-largest military. The agreement has been compared to NATO’s Article 5 principle of collective defence, while Ankara has stressed that it is not directed against Iran and could eventually be expanded.
The first meeting of the Strategic Political and Defence Committee established under the agreement took place in Istanbul on 31 August, further institutionalising cooperation through commitments to collective deterrence, defence-industrial cooperation, joint technological development, and a permanent secretariat.
The question, therefore, is not simply whether the Makkah agreement is counter-NATO. A more analytically useful question is whether it represents an emerging parallel or complementary collective-security architecture—one operating outside NATO while involving one of its most strategically important members.
If Turkey can simultaneously reaffirm its commitment to NATO’s Article 5, participate in a separate mutual-defence arrangement with Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, and deepen security relations with Russia, Iran, and China, the distinction between alliance membership and strategic alignment becomes increasingly blurred. This does not necessarily mean Ankara seeks to undermine NATO. Rather, it suggests a strategy of institutional diversification designed to maximize strategic autonomy and room for manoeuvre.
This posture is not without historical precedent. During the Second World War, for example, Turkey maintained a policy of neutrality despite its 1939 treaty commitments to Britain and France. It avoided direct participation in the conflict for most of the war and only severed diplomatic relations with Germany in 1944. Ankara simultaneously resisted Allied pressure to enter the conflict and sought to preserve its freedom of action through continuous bargaining with the major powers.
This history is central to understanding Frank Weber’s concept of “evasive neutrality”. Turkish neutrality has rarely meant disengagement. Rather, it has allowed Ankara to remain formally aligned with one camp while preserving the flexibility to negotiate with others.
That logic remains visible today. In Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Turkey has supported Ukraine in important areas while maintaining relations with Moscow and refusing to participate fully in Western sanctions. Ankara has simultaneously positioned itself as mediator and autonomous strategic actor, treating the war as both a security crisis and an opportunity to demonstrate its capacity for independent geopolitical action.
The same pattern is visible in the conflict involving Israel, the United States, and Iran. Ankara has combined diplomatic engagement and opposition to the US-Israeli military campaign with efforts to prevent further escalation on Turkish territory. When Iranian missiles threatened Turkish airspace, NATO air-defence capabilities were activated. However, Ankara has avoided deeper involvement and has signalled that it does not wish to be drawn further into the conflict.
This is not neutrality in the conventional sense. It is calculated neutrality: preserving strategic flexibility while protecting core national interests.
Yet this strategy increasingly creates tensions within the Western alliance. Turkey’s deepening relations with Russia and Iran, expanding defence partnerships beyond NATO, increasingly autonomous regional policies, and growing engagement across Africa, the Middle East, and Eurasia suggest a trajectory that extends beyond conventional alliance divergence.
Turkey’s “hard pragmatism” enables it to function simultaneously as a NATO ally, regional mediator, and increasingly revisionist power. The contradiction is particularly visible in the Eastern Mediterranean, where Ankara continues to advance the Blue Homeland doctrine, challenge Greek maritime and airspace claims, maintain its military presence in the occupied Northern Cyprus, and pursue an assertive regional posture.
At the same time, Turkey is expanding its engagement with non-Western institutions. Erdoğan’s recent indication that Ankara could deepen its relationship with the China and Russia - led Shanghai Cooperation Organisation, while maintaining its Western alliances, reinforces the same pattern: Turkey does not necessarily seek to choose between geopolitical camps. It seeks to extract strategic value from both.
This strategy becomes particularly consequential under President Trump, whose pressure on European allies to assume greater responsibility for defence spending is reshaping debates over NATO’s future. The question is no longer simply whether Turkey is moving away from NATO. It is whether NATO can accommodate a member that increasingly treats alliance membership as one pillar of a broader strategy of strategic autonomy.
The Makkah agreement encapsulates this paradox. Turkey is simultaneously reaffirming NATO commitments, joining a new collective-defence framework with Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, maintaining channels with Russia and Iran, deepening engagement with China, and positioning itself as a mediator across competing geopolitical camps.
Turkey’s neutrality has never meant neutrality of interests. Its strategy is one of calculated strategic vigilance: remaining anchored within the Western alliance while continuously expanding the space for independent action. In an increasingly fragmented international system, Ankara’s objective may not be to choose a side, but to ensure that it remains strategically valuable to all sides.
Disclaimer: Views expressed are of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Statecraft Institute.

