WhatsappDonald Trump’s so-called pro-Turkey stance isn’t about sentiment. It’s transactional geopolitics dressed up as praise. To Trump—and to much of the American strategic class—Turkey is not judged by what it threatens, but by what it can be used for: NATO geography, control of chokepoints, leverage over Europe’s migration nerves, and access into whatever Syria becomes after Assad’s fall. In that frame, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s expansionism isn’t a red flag. It’s a tool.
That framing explains why Washington consistently downplays Ankara’s ambitions while urging Israel to “manage” friction. The unspoken assumption is blunt: Israel can absorb pressure. Turkey must be accommodated. Trump’s instinct is mediation, not deterrence—positioning himself as the broker who can “fix” Israel–Turkey tensions if both sides behave. History suggests only one side is expected to bend.
Are Israel and Turkey on a collision course? Structurally, yes. Intentionally, no. And that distinction matters—because wars in the Middle East rarely begin by design. They begin through friction, miscalculation, and ideology layered over military proximity.
Nowhere is that clearer than Syria. Post-Assad Syria is an open operating space where both Israel and Turkey demand freedom of action. Israel’s interest is narrow but non-negotiable: deny hostile capabilities near its borders and preserve air superiority. Turkey’s interest is broader and more ambitious: translate influence with Islamist factions and interim authorities into lasting military, intelligence, and economic footholds. These goals are incompatible. Deconfliction can delay trouble, but it cannot erase the fact that two regional powers are maneuvering over the same map with different end states in mind.
Layer Erdoğan’s domestic politics on top—where attacking Israel plays well with Islamist voters—and routine military moves acquire ideological charge. That is how accidents escalate.
In the Mediterranean, the pressure shifts westward. Turkey’s posture in northern Cyprus signals a refusal to compromise. Ankara treats the island not as a dispute to be resolved, but as a strategic anchor projecting power into the Eastern Mediterranean. For Israel, Cyprus is no longer peripheral. It is a strategic partner—energy corridors, maritime security, and depth beyond Israel’s narrow coastline.
This is where Israel’s alliance with Greece and Cyprus quietly alters the balance. Not by encircling Turkey, but by raising the cost of unilateral moves. What Ankara once faced as isolated bilateral disputes is becoming a coordinated front: shared exercises, intelligence alignment, and interoperable planning. Geography plus Israeli technology is a combination Turkey cannot ignore.
The Horn of Africa is the newest board—and perhaps the most underestimated. Turkey’s heavy investment in Somalia is not charity; it is strategic positioning: bases, ports, training missions, and influence over Red Sea approaches. Israel’s recognition of Somaliland cuts directly into that calculus. It introduces an alternative coastal partner precisely where Ankara seeks uncontested access. Even if framed as economic or diplomatic, the signal is unmistakable: Israel is willing to compete with Turkey outside the Levant.
Will this turn into open conflict? A direct Israel–Turkey war in the near term remains unlikely. Neither side wants it, and Washington would scramble to prevent it. But the danger lies below the threshold: a close call in Syrian airspace, a proxy action attributed—rightly or wrongly—to Turkish backing, or a maritime incident amid expanding exercises. These are the sparks that ignite ladders of escalation neither capital publicly admits to owning.
Israel’s task now is not bravado, but preparation. Preserve deconfliction channels while strengthening northern readiness. Deepen the Greece–Cyprus axis until it becomes structural, not symbolic. Treat Somaliland as a long game—quiet infrastructure, intelligence access, and legitimacy. And abandon the illusion that every “mediator” in this arena is neutral.
Trump may see Erdoğan as manageable. Geography says otherwise. History suggests that when expansion goes unchallenged, collision stops being hypothetical.
