Yusuf Kanlı
Geography alone no longer guarantees strategic superiority. Türkiye’s real test is whether it can convert its indispensable position into economic capacity, technological strength, institutional credibility and the lasting influence required to shape the rules of the emerging order.
When Türkiye’s geopolitical importance is discussed, maps usually do most of the talking. A country situated at the intersection of three continents, controlling the straits that connect the Black Sea to the Mediterranean, forming a natural bridge between Europe and Asia, and standing at the northern gateway of the Middle East scarcely needs an elaborate explanation of why it matters to the international system. For centuries, this geography was a battleground for empires, and throughout the Republican era it remained one of the strongest assets of Turkish foreign policy. Yet the history of geopolitics also shows that Türkiye’s strategic value has never rested on precisely the same foundations. Every era has produced its own international balance and its own definition of power. To understand the new test confronting Türkiye, one must first understand how that definition has evolved.
During the Cold War, Türkiye’s strategic importance derived largely from its position as NATO’s forward outpost against the Soviet Union. Control of the straits, access to the Black Sea, proximity to the Middle East and the strength of its land forces made Ankara an indispensable member of the Western alliance. In that period, geography itself generated strategic value. Where Türkiye was located was often regarded as more important than the policies it pursued.
The end of the Cold War began to alter the logic of geopolitics. The disappearance of the Soviet threat did not diminish Türkiye’s importance. On the contrary, it created new roles. Ankara emerged as one of the central countries in energy corridors, regional security architecture and crisis management across a vast area stretching from the Balkans to the Caucasus and from the Black Sea to the Middle East. Projects such as Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan, TANAP, Blue Stream and TurkStream did more than carry energy. They reinforced Türkiye’s role as a strategic bridge between Europe and Asia. At the same time, crises in Iraq, Syria, the Black Sea and the South Caucasus increased Ankara’s diplomatic weight.
Today, however, we are entering a third geopolitical era. The weight of states is no longer measured solely by energy pipelines or military bases. Digital connectivity, artificial intelligence, semiconductors, critical minerals, data centres, financing networks, supply chains and technological standards have become integral components of international competition. Trade corridors are no longer designed simply according to the shortest route. Investment security, the rule of law, financing costs, regulatory frameworks and political predictability have become at least as important as geography itself.
The question, therefore, is no longer whether Türkiye possesses a strategic location. The answer has long been obvious. The real issue is whether Ankara can transform its strategic assets into lasting strategic influence. Put differently, the challenge is not merely to remain one of the indispensable countries of the international system, but to become one of the countries that determine how that system operates.
At first glance, this distinction may appear theoretical. Yet developments over the past few years have shown that it is intensely practical. Türkiye is simultaneously active in a geopolitical space stretching from the war in Ukraine to Syria’s future, from Black Sea security to the Eastern Mediterranean, and from the Caucasus to the Gulf. Nevertheless, in many critical processes, from the redesign of energy networks and the creation of new financing mechanisms to the formation of technology partnerships and trade corridors, the final rules are often written elsewhere. This does not mean that Türkiye has lost its importance. It means that the mechanisms through which power is generated in the international system have changed.
Strategic presence is not the same as strategic influence
Over the past two decades, the horizon of Turkish foreign policy has expanded considerably. The Turkish Armed Forces conduct security operations in northern Syria and Iraq, Türkiye plays a decisive role in the implementation of the Montreux Convention in the Black Sea, its strategic partnership with Azerbaijan has deepened, and Ankara has expanded its diplomatic and economic relations across a wide geography extending from Africa to the Gulf. During the same period, normalisation with Egypt and the Gulf countries has advanced significantly, the search for renewed dialogue with the European Union has accelerated, and the war between Russia and Ukraine has made Türkiye’s indispensability within NATO more visible.
Very few countries today can speak simultaneously with Washington and Moscow, Kyiv and Tehran, Baghdad and Damascus. Türkiye has largely preserved this diplomatic flexibility, and that in itself represents a significant strategic achievement. The ability to speak with all sides creates far more valuable diplomatic capital than operating exclusively within a single bloc.
Yet strategic presence and strategic influence are not the same thing. Real power is not measured merely by involvement in a large number of files. What matters is the ability to alter the preferences of other actors, shape the design of new initiatives and influence the rules of the order that emerges. There is a profound difference between being present at the table and determining how the table is arranged.
The latest NATO Summit offered a modest but instructive example of this transformation. The reopening of discussions with Washington over the F-35 programme demonstrated that Türkiye’s military capacity and indispensable position within NATO still matter greatly. The fact that a file which appeared completely closed only a few years ago could be reopened was in itself a diplomatic development.
Yet another initiative announced at the same summit pointed to a much deeper transformation. The Defence, Security and Resilience Bank, established under Canadian leadership, showed that the future of the defence industry will not be defined by arms production alone. In the coming period, defence ecosystems will increasingly be supported by long-term financing mechanisms, investment funds and private capital networks. Military power, in other words, can no longer be considered separately from financial architecture.
Türkiye’s decision not to join the new bank as a founding member was, of course, a sovereign choice. Yet that decision also illustrated how geopolitics is changing. International influence is now generated not only through military platforms, but also through financial institutions, technology consortia and regulatory frameworks.
The Türkiye-United Kingdom Security and Defence Partnership signed at the same summit revealed another dimension of the new era. The agreement is not limited to expanding defence cooperation between the two countries. It also encompasses joint technology development, the creation of production capacity, stronger supply chains and the collaborative development of the defence industry. Strategic partnerships are increasingly being judged not only through joint exercises, but through the capacity to innovate together.
All these examples point to the same conclusion. The definition of power is changing. States now generate international influence not only through military capabilities, but through the economic ecosystems, financing instruments, technology partnerships and institutional networks they build.
Energy corridors are no longer merely pipelines
For many years, energy in international politics was understood primarily through the physical connection between production centres and consumer markets. The route taken by an oil or natural gas pipeline conferred a natural geopolitical advantage on the country through which it passed, and transit status often amounted to strategic power in its own right. Türkiye was among the principal beneficiaries of this logic. Projects extending from Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan to TANAP strengthened the perception that Ankara was an indispensable transit country for European energy security. Europe’s efforts to diversify its energy supplies following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine reinforced this assessment for a considerable period.
Today, however, energy geopolitics is becoming far more complex. Corridors no longer carry only oil and natural gas. They also carry financing, technology, insurance systems, digital infrastructure, port capacity, data networks and political trust. The success of an energy project is no longer determined by its route alone. Investor confidence, legal predictability, manageable risk and the support of international financial institutions have become at least as important as geography.
Becoming an energy hub, therefore, no longer means merely possessing pipelines. It also requires the creation of an ecosystem in which investors feel secure, international financial institutions are prepared to provide long-term resources and the private sector can operate in a predictable economic environment. Geography opens the door, but institutions determine what lies behind it.
Some of Türkiye’s recent initiatives suggest that this transformation is understood. Talks with Iraq on reactivating the Kirkuk-Ceyhan pipeline are among the important steps supporting Ankara’s ambition to become an energy hub. The memorandum on supplying natural gas to the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus through an undersea connection is also strategically important, not only for energy security but for the broader prospect of economic integration in the Eastern Mediterranean.
Yet alternative routes are taking shape at the same time. Projects envisaging the transportation of Iraqi oil to the Mediterranean through Syria are once again being discussed. Work continues on the India-Middle East-Europe Economic Corridor. Energy and transport projects developed around the axis of Israel, Greece and the Greek Cypriot administration are also creating another dimension of regional competition. What these initiatives share is not simply the creation of alternative routes. They also combine financing, logistics, technology and political partnerships within a single strategic framework.
The competition of the new era is therefore no longer centred on which pipeline crosses which country, but on which country is regarded by investors as the more reliable partner. Capital avoids risk. Countries marked by legal uncertainty, weak economic predictability or political instability may struggle to preserve their competitiveness in the long term, even when they possess the most advantageous geography.
For Türkiye, this picture does not require a pessimistic reading. On the contrary, it points to a new strategic necessity. The advantages offered by geography remain intact. Yet converting them into lasting economic and political gains requires strong institutions, credible economic policies and a model of governance capable of reinforcing the long-term confidence of international investors.
The new Middle East is being shaped by strategic networks, not merely military alliances
The transformation underway in the Middle East follows a similar logic. For many years, regional balances were assessed largely through military alliances, bases and security agreements. Today, a far more complex picture is emerging. The defence industry, transport corridors, port investments, digital infrastructure, financial centres, artificial intelligence applications and high-technology production have become interlocking components of the same strategic network.
The Eastern Mediterranean is one of the clearest laboratories of this transformation. Israel, Greece and the Greek Cypriot administration have developed increasingly institutionalised cooperation in energy, security and transportation. India’s logistical capacity, the capital of the United Arab Emirates and the political support of the European Union are being integrated into this structure at different levels. The objective is not merely to conduct joint exercises or develop new energy projects. The deeper ambition is to occupy a central position within the economic and technological networks extending from the Eastern Mediterranean to Europe.
Türkiye is not observing this transformation from the outside. Its strategic partnership with Azerbaijan, long-standing security cooperation with Qatar, deepening energy and security dialogue with Iraq, normalisation with the Gulf states and restored relations with Egypt all demonstrate Ankara’s effort to build its own regional network. The new political landscape in Syria may also create opportunities for that network to expand across a wider geography.
Even so, success in the new era will not be measured simply by the number of countries with which Türkiye maintains good relations. More important will be whether those relationships can be transformed into joint investment funds, shared technology production, common industrial projects, collective financing mechanisms and durable institutional structures. The international system increasingly operates through complementary networks rather than through bilateral relationships alone.
The central question facing Türkiye is therefore no longer which bloc it should join. The real issue is whether it can become one of the central countries within the regional networks now taking shape. Military capacity will remain important, but it will not be sufficient on its own. Economic scale, technological production, the ability to attract capital and institutional credibility are becoming equally decisive.
Those who shape institutions also shape the order
Perhaps the most important geopolitical transformation of the twenty-first century lies here. In the past, major states regarded membership of international institutions as a strategic achievement. Today, real power increasingly derives from the ability to determine how those institutions function.
From the United Nations and the World Trade Organization to the European Union and NATO, all international structures are products of particular rules. Yet contemporary competition is no longer confined to existing institutions. New financial organisations are being created, new technology standards are being established, ethical rules for artificial intelligence are being written, critical mineral supply chains are being redesigned, new mechanisms are being developed to finance the green transition, and new investment models are being constructed to support the defence industry.
What all these processes have in common is that the future balance of power will be shaped not only by armies, but by institutions. Those who write regulatory standards, design financing models, build technology ecosystems and manage global supply chains can influence international behaviour without deploying a single soldier. Determining a technological standard can sometimes produce more enduring consequences than establishing a naval base, while designing a financial mechanism may create a more lasting impact than dozens of diplomatic initiatives.
This is why the twenty-first century is increasingly becoming the century of states that build institutions. Lasting influence over the international order will belong not simply to those that join institutions, but to those that write the rules, set the standards and develop new models of partnership. Türkiye’s principal challenge begins precisely at this point.
Strategic influence begins at home
For many years, international relations treated foreign and domestic policy as largely separate spheres. A state’s international weight was assumed to depend on military capacity, alliance relationships and diplomatic skill, while economic governance, the legal system and public institutions were regarded mainly as domestic concerns. That distinction is now rapidly disappearing. Global competition is increasingly shaped not only by what states do abroad, but by how they are governed at home.
Economic strength, technological production capacity and institutional credibility have become integral parts of national security. International investors do not look only at tax rates or labour costs. The rule of law, the independence of regulatory institutions, the predictability of monetary policy, the quality of the education system, research and development capacity and the effectiveness of public administration are at least as important as conventional economic indicators. Major infrastructure projects, technology investments and strategic partnerships now purchase not only geographic advantage, but institutional confidence.
This is not true only for the private sector. Governments also apply similar criteria when choosing their partners. In defence industry cooperation, a country’s approach to intellectual property rights, the legal framework governing technology transfer, the soundness of its financial system and the credibility of its regulatory institutions matter at least as much as its military capacity.
The global influence of the European Union offers one of the clearest examples. Europe’s power does not derive from economic size alone. The rules of the single market, competition law, environmental standards, digital regulations and investment security mechanisms influence the behaviour of global companies. This is precisely what is meant by the “Brussels effect.” The European Union can often alter the functioning of international markets through regulation rather than military power.
Similarly, the international weight of the United States does not derive solely from possessing the world’s largest military. The reserve currency status of the dollar, the depth of Wall Street, Silicon Valley’s technology ecosystem, world-leading research universities and immense innovation capacity extend Washington’s strategic influence far beyond its military reach.
China’s rise over the past two decades confirms the same reality. Beijing did not merely expand its navy. It created infrastructure financing through the Belt and Road Initiative, established the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank, developed digital payment systems, achieved global dominance in the processing of critical minerals and began setting new standards in advanced technology. It built geopolitical influence not only through military strength, but through economic and institutional instruments.
Türkiye has also undergone a remarkable transformation over the past two decades, particularly in the defence industry. Advances in fields ranging from unmanned aerial vehicles and naval platforms to missile technology and electronic warfare systems have done more than increase export figures. They have also expanded Ankara’s diplomatic room for manoeuvre. The defence industry has become one of the supporting pillars of Turkish foreign policy.
The next phase, however, will be far more complex. Unless the gains achieved in defence production are supported by strong universities, qualified human capital, advanced technology, sound financing structures and international partnerships, sustaining the same momentum over the long term will not be easy. Strategic power is now generated not only by countries that develop weapons systems, but also by those that finance them, produce their software, build their data infrastructure and manage their supply chains.
Türkiye’s central challenge, therefore, is not merely to produce more defence systems. It is also to strengthen the scientific infrastructure, financing capacity, technology ecosystem and environment of institutional trust required to sustain that production.
The question of the new era is not where Türkiye stands, but what it shapes
Debates on Turkish foreign policy often focus on whether the country is active in too many crisis zones at once. Yet this discussion is becoming increasingly meaningless. Given Türkiye’s historical ties, economic scale, geographic position and security needs, it is scarcely conceivable that it would remain inactive across a region extending from the Balkans to the Caucasus, from the Black Sea to the Eastern Mediterranean, and from the Middle East to Africa. The problem is not that Türkiye operates on multiple fronts. The problem is how that intense activity can be converted into strategic outcomes.
The international system is searching for a new equilibrium. Europe is redefining its security architecture. The Middle East is preparing to establish new economic connections after years of war. Energy and transportation networks are being reshaped in the Eastern Mediterranean. Artificial intelligence, the digital economy and critical technologies are becoming the new arenas of global competition. Türkiye stands at the centre of nearly all these transformations.
This landscape offers Ankara not only opportunities, but new responsibilities. Strategic location no longer generates automatic advantage. Military deterrence alone does not produce lasting influence. Diplomatic visibility remains limited unless it contributes to the formation of international rules. Geopolitical importance becomes genuine strategic influence only when it is reinforced by economic credibility, technological production and institutional capacity.
Over the past two decades, Türkiye has moved from the margins of the international system to become an indispensable actor in regional affairs. That is no minor achievement. Progress in the defence industry, a wider diplomatic horizon, greater activity in energy diplomacy and a multidirectional foreign policy have all enhanced Ankara’s international visibility.
The test of the coming period, however, will be different. It will no longer be a question of how many summits Türkiye attends or how many crises it seeks to mediate. The real issue will be the extent to which it can influence the rules of the emerging regional and global order. Across a broad field extending from energy corridors and digital infrastructure to financing mechanisms, technology standards, defence production and regional economic networks, Türkiye’s influence will be measured not only by military strength, but by institutional capacity and strategic vision.
The twentieth century largely rewarded states for the geography they possessed. The twenty-first century is more likely to favour those capable of converting geography into institutions, partnerships, innovation, technology and trust. Geopolitical advantage is no longer an outcome in itself, but only a powerful point of departure.
Türkiye has already secured its place on the geopolitical map. Its position at the intersection of Europe and Asia, its role in the security architecture stretching from the Black Sea to the Eastern Mediterranean, and its weight in almost every strategic issue across its surrounding region are beyond dispute. Yet the defining question of the next decade will no longer be where Türkiye is located.
The real question is whether Türkiye can carry the same weight among the countries writing the rules of the new regional order now taking shape around it. The twentieth century rewarded states that used geography effectively. The twenty-first century will reward those that can convert geography into institutions, partnerships, innovation and trust.
Türkiye has already taken its place on the map. The question now awaiting an answer is whether it can secure an equally lasting place among the architects of the emerging regional and global order. Real strategic power is measured not by being present in crises, but by belonging to those who build the order that follows them. That is the true geopolitical test confronting Türkiye.





