By Halil Karaveli
The Erdoğan regime has now introduced an innovation to the longstanding Turkish state tradition of party closures by appointing a trustee to lead the main opposition CHP. The CHP’s leader Özgür Özel was caught off-guard by the decision to depose him. His performance has been unsteady, perhaps because he senses that he has only unpromising options. Nonetheless, Özel needs to recognize that those who aspire to restore Turkish democracy no longer have any future in the CHP.

BACKGROUND:
On May 21, an appeals court in Ankara removed the head of the main opposition center-left Republican People’s Party (CHP), Özgür Özel, by annulling the party’s 2023 leadership contest. The court credited the allegations that Özel’s victory was due to irregularities and misconduct and ordered that Özel should be replaced by his predecessor, Kemal Kılıçdaroğlu, CHP’s leader between 2010 and 2023, whom he defeated in 2023. Turkish legal experts contested the legality of the court ruling, pointing out that the appeals court had overstepped its jurisdiction, since according to the Turkish constitution the Supreme Electoral Board is the sole instance invested with the authority to cancel party elections.
Yet Turkey’s justice system has been weaponised against the opposition, and the decision to depose Özel represents but the final stage in the crackdown on the CHP that began a year ago with the arrest of the party’s presidential candidate, the mayor of Istanbul Ekrem İmamoğlu. Since then, scores of CHP mayors have been arrested, charged with corruption, while others have been enticed – or blackmailed -- to switch to the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP). As a result, the results of the local elections in 2024, which the CHP carried, have largely been voided.
The CHP has still continued to enjoy a lead, albeit a narrowing one, in the polls, while some have the party falling behind the AKP. Nonetheless, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan seeks to make sure that his reelection isn’t endangered. Özel succeeded in keeping protesters mobilized even though a protest fatigue has eventually set in. In a sign of the growing sense of resignation, Özel’s ouster as party leader so far hasn’t elicited any wider popular protests. That’s also because the struggle over the CHP doesn’t only pit the courts of the regime against the party’s elected leadership but equally the former, now re-appointed, party head and his successor against each other, making it seem to be an internal matter of a deeply split party.
Kılıçdaroğlu has consistently refused to admit the legitimacy of the election of Özel and has since sought to return as party leader. Kılıçdaroğlu’s vengefulness and the interest of Erdoğan in seeing the main opposition party consumed with internal strife converged. On May 25, police stormed the headquarters of the CHP where Özel had barricaded himself, after Kılıçdaroğlu’s lawyers requested his and his supporters’ eviction.
Özel’s performance since the court ordered his ouster has been unsteady, alternating between defiance and futile entreaties to Kılıçdaroğlu. He initially vowed to remain at the party headquarters, solemnly declaring that “I will stay in this building, I will not leave, until the CHP’s members have decided who’s going to lead the party.” Yet two days later, when the police stormed the building, Özel acquiesced to quietly leave it.
IMPLICATIONS:
Özel was apparently caught off-guard by the decision to depose him. “I never expected that they would go this far,” he confessed, betraying a surprising naïveté about a regime that doesn’t pull any punches and that has already shown that it will stop at nothing to crush the CHP. Özel has, it seems, neither taken the full measure of Erdoğan nor of Kılıçdaroğlu, and he has clearly underestimated their determination to get rid of him.
On May 26, he appealed to Kılıçdaroğlu to call a party election in which the CHP’s 2 million members would decide who should be party leader. Kılıçdaroğlu, who was already unpopular in the party and who is now deeply loathed, will certainly not consent to holding such an election. On May 27, Özel expressed the vain hope that Kılıçdaroğlu won’t “usurp power.” Kılıçdaroğlu’s statements though intimate that he has every intention to make full use of the power that he’s been handed, and that he intends to proceed to purge the CHP of the supposedly corrupt Özel and İmamoğlu loyalists. On May 27, Kılıçdaroğlu requested that Özel be removed as CHP parliamentary group leader, a post to which Özel was hurriedly appointed after he was deposed as party leader.
Ultimately, Özel will now have to recognize that those who aspire to restore Turkish democracy no longer have any future in the CHP. So far, Özel has refused to acknowledge that reality. “We’re not going to abandon the party,” he quipped. “How could we abandon the history, the brand of the CHP to a leadership that has been appointed by the palace (a reference to the Erdoğan regime)?” he rhetorically asked. (He could also have added the party treasury that Kılıçdaroğlu now controls to that list.)
His statement suggests that Özel, incredulously, thinks that he’s got a fair chance to wrest back the party from the regime, as if the circumstances were those of a normally functioning democracy. But Özel also seems to be cognizant that normal democratic rules have ceased to apply, noting that the CHP is now “de facto closed.” In a statement that suggests that he intends to pursue his struggle by extra-parliamentary means, he said “from now on we’ll primarily be in the streets, alongside the people.” But it’s doubtful that the people will be in the streets alongside Özel.
Özel has only unpromising options: If he remains in the CHP and tries to wage a rebellion against Kılıçdaroğlu, as his statements indicate he will, he has scant chance of reversing his fortunes, and he will only end up reinforcing the image of a chaotic party that is at war with itself, which will disqualify it as a viable alternative in the eyes of many voters. That is precisely what Erdoğan wants. If on the other hand, Özel opts to leave the CHP and starts a new party, he’ll also face insurmountable, not least financial, obstacles. “We are not going to start any new party,” he insisted on May 27. Yet he may ultimately have no other option -- however unpromising it is -- if he wants to remain politically relevant.
Nor can Özel realistically hope to achieve anything by taking to the streets, as he ostentatiously did after he had complied with the police order to leave the party headquarters. Özel led party loyalists in an eight kilometer walk to the parliament under pouring rain, at one occasion climbing over an armored police vehicle and defiantly posing with a clenched fist. While some opposition commentators touted that image – reminiscent of Boris Yeltsin’s famous climb on a tank during the coup attempt in Moscow 1991 -- as iconic and held that it “captured the moment of revolutionary crystallization,” Turkey is hardly on the brink of a revolution, something of which it has no tradition. Although dissatisfaction with the economy is widespread, a majority of the voters appreciate Erdoğan’s leadership in a time of unprecedented international turmoil while the détente with the Kurdish political movement ensures that no broad opposition alliance will emerge to challenge the regime.
CONCLUSION:
In a statement in 2024, after the CHP had defeated the AKP in the local elections, Özgür Özel commented that Turkey’s history shows that whenever the state and the people are in a contest, the people always wins. There’s some truth to that. The CHP, then the party of the state, lost in Turkey’s first free elections in 1950. In 1983, the voters rejected the party that the military junta had set up as its successor. In 2007, they rallied massively to the AKP after the military had tried to block the election of the AKP’s presidential candidate. But the people’s victories have also been voided before.
In the late 1970s, the CHP’s rule was subverted by the state and big business. The CHP had by then reinvented itself as the party of the popular masses and the downtrodden and won its biggest electoral victory to date. The CHP was subsequently closed by the military together with all other parties after the coup in 1980.
The Erdoğan regime has now introduced an innovation to the longstanding Turkish state tradition of party closures – a procedure that has historically primarily targeted Islamist and Kurdish parties – by appointing a trustee to lead the party that threatened to upend the established order.
The deeper lesson that Turkey’s history imparts is that the state can only be challenged successfully from the right. The state resisted the ascent of the Islamic conservative AKP but ultimately yielded; but the AKP that rose to power as the agent of the people against the state elite in turn eventually morphed into the party of the state. The enduring fate of the CHP, which has made the opposite journey, is instead to be neutralized by the state when it’s on the ascent.
AUTHOR'S BIO:
Halil Karaveli is a Senior Fellow with the Central Asia-Caucasus Institute & Silk Road Studies Program Joint Center and Editor of the Turkey Analyst. He is the author of Why Turkey is Authoritarian: From Atatürk to Erdoğan (Pluto Press).
By Barçın Yinanç
Turkey’s President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan is known to be a leader who does not chew his words, especially when targeting Western leaders. Yet although an overwhelming majority of the Turkish public opinion is strongly critical of the U.S.-Israeli war against Iran, Erdoğan has conspicuously withheld any criticism of Washington. The Turkish leadership has offered invaluable assistance to Trump’s plans for Gaza, and Washington has accommodated Turkey in Syria and tacitly bestowed legitimacy on Erdoğan’s domestic oppression. However, the central challenge for U.S.–Turkey relations will remain the management of tensions between two of Washington’s most important Middle Eastern allies, Israel and Turkey.

BACKGROUND:
Trump and Erdoğan had already set up a good rapport during Trump’s first term, and U.S. president’s favorable view of Erdoğan facilitates addressing long-standing strains in bilateral ties. Yet it was the fall of Bashar al-Assad in Syria 2024 that proved to be the real game-changer in the American-Turkish relation. Trump’s decision early on to open credit to Syria’s interim president Ahmed al-Shara, the former jihadist rebel leader and a Turkish protégé, led to a constructive cooperation on a key priority area for Ankara. More importantly, Washington’s change of strategy concerning the People’s Protection Units (YPG), considered by Ankara to be the Syrian wing of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), proved to be the key dynamic as a course correction.
U.S. political and military support to the YPG poisoned Turkish-American relations for more than a decade. Washington claimed to partner with the YPG to fight the so called Islamic State while Ankara accused its ally of backing a Kurdish armed group, thereby paving the way for the establishment of a Kurdish entity in its southern border. In January this year, Tom Barrack, the U.S. ambassador to Ankara and Trump’s special envoy to Syria, announced YPG’s mission to be accomplished, removing the major obstacle to improved U.S.-Turkey relations. “The original purpose of the SDF as the primary anti-ISIS force on the ground has largely expired, as Damascus is now both willing and positioned to take over security responsibilities, including control of ISIS detention facilities and camps,” he stated.
Speaking during the Antalya Diplomacy Forum on April 17, Barrack praised Turkey and Erdoğan and appeared to be siding with Turkey – and Syria -- against Israel. Barrack took issue with Israel’s view of Syria and Turkey as adversaries, rather than potential partners, calling it a “strategic mistake.” Israel deployed troops to southern Syria in the wake of Assad’s ouster, and has bombed military facilities in the country. Barrack lamented the constant Israeli incursions that threaten to destabilize the al-Sharaa regime and clash with Turkey’s interests. Israeli representatives have also repeatedly expressed support for Kurdish aspirations, raising concerns in Ankara. Barrack said that he’s been consistent in telling Israel that the “inclusion” of Turkey is the “only answer” to securing the ceasefire in Gaza.
While Trump prioritizes the security of Israel, bringing stability in the Middle East requires the normalization of Israel’s relations with its neighbors. Achieving this, however, necessitates managing, if not resolving comprehensively, the Palestinian issue. In that respect, Turkey plays a crucial role and has already offered valuable services. As the most vocal critic of Israel and a staunch defender of Hamas, Erdoğan’s endorsement of the plan that foresaw the end of Hamas’ rule in Gaza was invaluable and bestowed legitimacy to Trump’s plan. Not only did Erdoğan sign on to Trump’s plan, becoming one of the four leaders signing a declaration in Sharm el-Sheikh, Egypt, but he also used Turkey’s leverage over Hamas. If Trump was instrumental in convincing Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to accept the plan, Turkey’s pressure was crucial in securing Hamas’ acquiescence.
Barrack recalled that Trump called Erdoğan shortly before the ceasefire in Gaza was reached last October, asking for his assistance in bringing two leaders of Hamas on board. It would not have happened without the efforts of Erdoğan, Fidan and National Intelligence chief Ibrahim Kalin, Barrack emphasized.
IMPLICATIONS:
It is not a coincidence that, Erdoğan – who never received an invitation during Joe Biden’s term – was finally gratified with an invitation to and entered the Oval Office two days after he endorsed Trump’s plans for Gaza. Meanwhile, a statement by ambassador Barrack right before Erdoğan’s visit laid down openly the gist of U.S.-Turkish relations, with Barrack remarking that “President Trump says, let’s give them what they need, legitimacy.” The statement, which presumably alluded to the need to rehabilitate Erdoğan’s image in Washington, also implied turning a blind eye to and legitimizing Erdoğan’s domestic transgressions. Washington has remained silent as Turkey has been witnessing one of the most severe waves of political repression in its history, targeting the main opposition party.
Meanwhile, the Turkish leadership provides legitimacy to Trump’s plans for the Middle East. Turkey’s decision to use its leverage over Hamas has in return been rewarded by the U.S. Not only has Washington ended its decade-long support to the Kurdish YPG, but the Trump administration has also green-lighted a solution to the longstanding Halkbank issue between the U.S. and Turkey. The agreement over Turkish state-owned Halkbank, which stands accused of evading U.S. sanctions on Iran, was revealed in early March. Not coincidentally, Turkish officials abstained from expressing any criticism of the U.S. for the war against Iran. This also bespeaks Ankara’s wish to mediate between Washington and Tehran and Turkey contributed to the mediation efforts that were led by Pakistan together with Egypt and Saudi Arabia. Meanwhile, the Iran war has revealed Turkish defense vulnerabilities. The package deal with the U.S. that includes modernization kits for Turkey’s existing F-16 fleet as well as the procurement of a new batch of F-16s comes at a high cost, and Ankara seeks a discounted offer. Also, there has been no progress on the F-35 issue, with Ankara blaming the Israeli lobby for the stalemate. Turkey is eager to be allowed to return to the program from which it was expelled following its purchase of the Russian S-400 air defense system.
Delays in the delivery of the initial engines for Turkey’s domestically produced fighter jet Kaan have further heightened concerns in Ankara. These setbacks exacerbate Turkey’s growing airpower vulnerability at a moment when global politics is increasingly unstable and unpredictable.
CONCLUSION:
It was consistent with President Trump’s leadership style to disengage from an armed non-state actor – the Kurds in Syria -- and instead rely on a middle power like Turkey, particularly as Washington seeks to delegate the stabilization of key regions to allies and partners. In the short to medium term, however, the central challenge for U.S.–Turkey relations will remain the management of tensions between two of Washington’s most important Middle Eastern allies, Israel and Turkey.
Turkey and Israel pursue fundamentally divergent policies in Syria, as the latter wants a weak and fragmented Syria. At present, Ankara appears to have drawn Washington closer to its own position. However, the fragile nature of the deal between Damascus and YPG as well as that between Syria and Israel remains a potential irritant. This is also important in view of the new process initiated to solve the decades old Kurdish problem.
Moreover, Israel’s approach to implementing the second stage of Trump’s Gaza plan is highly problematic. Turkey has reciprocated U.S. disengagement from the Kurdish YPG by encouraging Hamas to accept a framework that remains ambiguous about the protection of Palestinian rights. Ankara though will find it difficult to pressure Hamas to remain loyal to the plan in the face of Israel’s policies in Gaza and in the West Bank. Israel’s quest for regional supremacy threatens to impede Erdoğan’s collaboration with Trump.
And if Trump meant to improve Erdoğan’s standing among Washington’s circles by bestowing legitimacy on him, this remains unfulfilled as Congress is still highly hostile to Turkey, which explains the continuation of the stalemate in defense ties.
AUTHOR'S BIO:
Barçın Yinanç is a foreign policy commentator at the Turkish news site t24.
By Juliette Oliver
Over the last two decades, Turkey has seized the opportunity for low-cost military dominance through the development of its indigenous drone and weapons programs. Turkey has risen to drone superstardom, utilizing its defense industry proactively as a hard power abroad in a quest to strengthen its place and position during global turmoil. Turkey seeks to limit reliance on Western partners and increase national independence through technological sovereignty. The rhetoric framing Ankara's exports, however, differs dramatically from conflict to conflict, such as in Russia’s war in Ukraine and in the Second Nagorno-Karabakh War. Such shifts demonstrate an increasingly flexible, albeit complicated, drone diplomacy. Turkey uses private military companies and their drone exports to align or distance itself with buyer-states, heightening complexity around how to hold it accountable for its role in international conflicts.

BACKGROUND:
Ankara’s inaugural test flight of the infamous Bayraktar TB2 in 2014, proved a revolutionary turning point in Turkey’s impressive indigenous military development. Since then, Turkish Armed Forces have accelerated production and pushed the bar of UAV manufacturing and supply self-sufficiency. In 2023, Turkey produced almost 80% of its own military parts and weaponry. These arms initiatives are instruments for strengthening national security, which Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan underscored at a ceremony in Ankara on February 24, 2026 for Turkey’s newest addition to the autonomous weapons family, the Sancar unmanned naval vehicle.
Conflicts such as the Second Nagorno-Karabakh war and Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine have become battlegrounds for drones, as well as testing sites for Erdoğan's new hard power diplomacy. Turkey has shifted its rhetoric across these conflicts, framing drone exports from purely arms trade to intense cooperation with allies. Ankara demonstrates the flexibility that drone diplomacy provides and the effort Erdoğan is willing to put in to reap maximum benefits from its engagement.
The 2020 Second Nagorno-Karabakh War illustrates Turkey’s most direct application of drone-enabled power. At the outset of hostilities, Erdoğan declared “It’s time to pay,” backing Azerbaijan’s demands that Armenia withdraw from Nagorno-Karabakh. After Azerbaijan's successful efforts to retake the territory, Erdoğan later attempted to align himself closely with the victory, claiming, “Together with our Azerbaijani brothers, we completely eliminated the enemy forces.”
While at first praising Turkish military support, an article in Azerbaijan’s official newspaper expressed frustration at perceived Turkish exploitation of its victory, commenting, “Our people, army, and commander view with disappointment and deep sorrow the attempts to claim and take ownership of our rightful victory. Azerbaijan’s victory is for the entire Turkic world, but Türkiye is not its architect.” Nagorno-Karabakh demonstrates how Turkey uses drone exports to both shape battlefield outcomes and construct narratives of military competence and regional leadership, notwithstanding tension with allies who resent its exploitative efforts.
In stark contrast, Turkey’s approach to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine reflects a more cautious and flexible strategy. Unlike most NATO members, Turkey did not impose comprehensive sanctions on Russia. It instead maintains a position of cooperative rivalry. Within this framework, Turkey has sought to position itself as a mediator while continuing defense exports to Ukraine. Turkish officials have emphasized the private, rather than governmental, nature of drone sales. Deputy Foreign Minister Yavuz Selim Kıran stated, “Kyiv purchased the drones from Baykar, a private Turkish defense company,” while then Foreign Minister Mevlüt Çavuşoğlu asserted, “If a country buys [weapons] from us, they are no longer Turkish.” These statements aim to create distance between the state and the consequences of drone deployment despite Turkey having serious stakes in Ukraine’s successful defense against Russian aggression. Russia has rejected this framing, and the then-Russian Ambassador Alexey Yerkhov responded that “Explanations like ‘business is business’ will not work, since your drones are killing our soldiers.”
This exchange underscores the limits of plausible deniability when private firms are closely linked to national strategy and foreign policy. Although Ankara frames drone exports as private transactions, the relationship between state and industry in Turkey is deeply intertwined. Defense firms operate within a system shaped by government contracts, which are incentivized and only given to Erdoğan loyalists and those politically aligned with his regime. The prominence of Baykar, producer of the Bayraktar TB2, exemplifies this dynamic, as one of the most prolific defense companies is run by Erdoğan’s son-in-law, Selçuk Bayraktar.
This structure allows Ankara to project influence indirectly. Channeling military exports through nominally private firms enables Ankara to expand its strategic reach while limiting formal accountability. In practice, these companies function as extensions of state policy, advancing both domestic and foreign objectives.
IMPLICATIONS:
Turkey’s rise as a drone power reflects a broader transformation in its strategic identity. Moving beyond dependence on Western suppliers, it has leveraged indigenous defense development to expand its autonomy and influence. Turkey’s hybrid drone diplomacy allows it to openly align with partners, such as with Azerbaijan in the case of Nagorno-Karabakh, or maintain distance, as it has done in the case of Ukraine. Across both contexts, drones enable a form of indirect power projection that blends military effectiveness with strategic narrative-building.
Other countries have already taken notice, and have either condemned the spread of Turkish drones to their neighborhood or embraced the opportunity to bolster their respective capabilities. In February 2026, the Turkish arms supplier Mechanical and Chemical Industry Corporation (MKE) signed a major export agreement with the Egyptian Ministry of Defense for $350 million, which includes the sale of ammunition and joint procurement of drones. Israel was quick to denounce such agreements, believing these developments signal efforts not only to seek reconciliation with former regional rivals, but to create a coordinated political and strategic bloc described as a “Sunni ring” militarily surrounding Israel. The extensive efforts that Turkey is making to compartmentalize its private military and public governmental sphere provide it with a back door and leave other countries struggling with how to respond. Israel for instance has opted for a strategy of challenging Turkey’s trade in the region with its own and through containment.
These occurrences will only increase as Turkey pushes full steam ahead to capitalize on its drone diplomacy as a means for normalization with other countries. It will become increasingly more difficult to hold Turkey accountable for its arms exports as these systems and relationships expand. Turkey's evolving and increasingly active posture in regional military affairs motivates countries in the West, including the United States, to develop their military industries and compete on the global stage. Recognizing that the future of domestic securitization will progressively be ensured by autonomous weaponry, the U.S. will be forced to compete with -- rather than solely confront -- Turkey, which in the past was the initial reason for development of autonomous weapons.
CONCLUSION:
Turkey’s drone diplomacy reveals not just a shift in military capability, but a recalibration of how power is projected while diffusing accountability. By leveraging nominally private defense firms to advance strategic objectives, Ankara has constructed a flexible model of influence that adapts across conflicts while complicating international responses.
Turkey’s approach offers a template for indirect, deniable power projection in contemporary warfare. This in turn incites other countries to refine their own diplomatic framework in parallel with the foreign drone market in order to keep pace with and adapt to the contemporary era of drone diplomacy.
AUTHOR'S BIO:
Juliette Oliver is a researcher with the American Foreign Policy Council and is pursuing her master’s degree in Eurasian studies.