With much at stake in the Israeli-U.S. war with Iran, Türkiye has thus far managed to keep channels open to both sides of the conflict without aligning with either. Ankara is a growing power in the Middle East, and conflict-related upheaval could threaten or reinforce its position, depending on how things go. As Washington and Tehran simultaneously explore a negotiated solution and square off over control of the Strait of Hormuz, all amid a tenuous ceasefire, Ankara and other key players are bracing for the region’s tumultuous next phase. Some of the potential elements are already emerging: a militaristic Israel that increasingly frames Türkiye as a threat; a battered Iran that sees its ability to plunge neighbours into conflict and throttle the global economy as key to defending its interests; and a combination of Gulf Arab states and outside actors grasping for options to address those contingencies. Eager to conserve its resources for what is coming over the horizon, Ankara has focused its energies on supporting mediation efforts and keeping the current conflict at arm’s length.

Drawing in part from Crisis Group’s conversations with Turkish officials, this commentary focuses on how Ankara positioned itself geopolitically in the period prior to the conflict, its approach to the current war, and risks and opportunities it may face once the guns are silent. 

Before the U.S. and Israel plunged the Middle East into war in late February, rivalry and confrontation among its three non-Arab powers – Iran, Türkiye and Israel – had already shifted the regional balance of power. 

Much of the jockeying for position happened in Syria. From 2011 to 2024, competition between Ankara and Tehran shaped and prolonged the Syrian civil war that had grown out of an uprising against Bashar al-Assad’s regime and the regime’s efforts to suppress it. From the outset, this conflict was widely seen as geopolitically pivotal. Syria was part of Iran’s “axis of resistance” and afforded Tehran its main supply route to Hizbollah, a key axis partner, in Lebanon. Iran and Hizbollah (along with Russia) supported Assad in order to maintain that corridor and Syria’s alignment with Tehran. By contrast, Türkiye backed key elements of the fragmented opposition – at first hoping to topple Assad and later with the narrower goals of hemming in Kurdish-led forces linked to the Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK) and preventing further mass displacement of Syrians into Türkiye. 

This duelling external support enabled the Syrian sides to keep fighting, fuelled momentum swings and eventually yielded a ceasefire in early 2020. That largely held until Hamas attacked Israel on 7 October 2023, igniting the Gaza war and a broader confrontation between the “axis of resistance” and Israel, including months of largely tit-for-tat exchanges between Hizbollah and Israel over the Israel-Lebanon border. 

Israel significantly escalated attacks on Hizbollah in the autumn of 2024, sparking a chain reaction that transformed the Syrian conflict and tilted the regional balance of power. By dramatically weakening Hizbollah in Lebanon, Israel reduced the group’s capacity to continue providing crucial ground forces in support of Assad, just as the regime’s other key backers were also distracted – Russia by the war in Ukraine and Iran by the impact of Hizbollah’s degradation on its “forward defence” strategy. Seeing an opportunity to press their advantage, Syrian rebels launched the late 2024 offensive that swiftly overthrew the Assad regime. 

The consolidation of a new Syrian order headed by former rebel Ahmad al-Sharaa flipped the country’s geopolitical orientation, as the interim government deepened ties with Türkiye and forged new ones with Saudi Arabia and the U.S. It also obstructed Iran’s supply line to Hizbollah, Tehran’s hoped-for pathway to restoring its lost leverage in the Levant. The damage Israel did to Iran itself during two exchanges of fire in 2024 and (especially) the twelve-day war of June 2025 seemed to put an exclamation point on the decline of Tehran’s power projection capacity.

Meanwhile, the dramatic reduction of Iran’s regional clout opened space for both Türkiye and Israel to expand their own influence, with Syria becoming a fault line of increased friction between them. Since al-Sharaa took control, Israel has made numerous efforts to constrain both his power and Turkish influence – early on striking the Syrian military that Ankara aims to help rebuild; occupying territory beyond the Golan Heights that Israel claimed to annex in 1981; pressing Damascus to limit the scope of Turkish support and the size of its own garrison in southern parts of Syria adjacent to the Golan; and helping Druze forces in Syria’s south resist the government’s attempts to impose central authority. 

Amid these shifts, Israel and Türkiye have come to regard each other with increasing wariness. Since 2024, Israeli officials and commentators have described Türkiye as a potential “new Iran” – an adversarial power capable of forging a network of allies at Israel’s expense, with Syria as its hub. To support this narrative, they have seized on statements by Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan pairing sharp denunciations of Israeli attacks on Gaza with hints that Türkiye might act in response. 

For their part, Turkish officials describe Israel as ruthless, reckless and bent on asserting power far beyond its borders – citing its brutal Gaza campaign; the expansion of its presence in Syria since December 2024; its launch of the June 2025 twelve-day war; its strike in the Qatari capital Doha targeting Hamas leaders in September 2025; and its latest bombardments of Iran and Lebanon in the current war. They also believe Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is casting Türkiye in frightening terms for domestic political reasons – ie, so that there remains a threatening external actor around which he can frame his militaristic politics if Iran is further diminished. 

These dynamics have accelerated a downward trend in relations. Türkiye recognised Israel in 1949, and the two countries have intermittently enjoyed close ties since then. But their relations began to deteriorate amid Israeli attacks on Gaza in 2009, and the Israeli commando raid that killed ten Turkish activists aboard a ship bringing aid to the strip in 2010. Turkish officials cite anger at Israel’s treatment of the Palestinians as the primary obstacle to repairing relations. The latest attempt to do so collapsed amid the Gaza war, with Turkish leaders accusing Israel of genocide and the Israeli government slamming Ankara for its diplomatic engagement with Hamas. Both sides recalled their ambassadors in 2023, and Türkiye suspended trade with Israel in 2024. Yet officials from the two sides have remained in contact, managing tensions and engaging in military deconfliction over Syria (where both their forces operate – Türkiye in cooperation with the Syrian government, and Israel in defiance of it). 

Having emerged stronger from the three-way wrangling for regional power in Syria, Türkiye is eager to keep bolstering its position while managing the risks from heightened tensions with Israel. With its longstanding ties to the U.S. and membership in NATO, as well as its prominence among majority-Muslim countries, it has become one of the most influential “middle powers” – the class of regional powers that have increasingly filled gaps left by major-power retrenchment in their regions and, in some instances, beyond them. 

Mediation is a key tool in Ankara’s approach to foreign policy. It has been working to calm tensions between Washington and Tehran since January, when the Trump administration threatened military action following the Iranian regime’s violent crackdown on protesters. President Erdoğan first proposed convening a trilateral meeting with his U.S. and Iranian counterparts, as he had previously suggested during the twelve-day war in 2025. U.S. President Donald Trump appeared keen, but the idea fizzled when Ali Khamenei, then Iran’s supreme leader, blocked Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian from participating. Ankara next advocated for a two-track format, in which Iran, Türkiye, Egypt, Saudi Arabia and other Gulf Arab states would discuss tensions over Iran’s regional proxy network and missile program, in parallel with Oman-mediated U.S.-Iran negotiations over Tehran’s nuclear program and the potential removal of Western sanctions. The regional track was intended to start in late February or early March, a few days after the third round of U.S.-Iran talks in Geneva on 26 February. But on 28 February, the U.S. and Israel began their coordinated assault on Iran. 

Though Ankara’s initiatives failed to gain traction, they established Türkiye as a player that could talk to both sides through channels that it has since maintained. Turkish officials also feel that they gained useful insights into where diplomacy failed in the run-up to the war. In discussions with Crisis Group and in public comments, they have highlighted three key points. First, they say, the U.S. made a mistake by abruptly going to war even as the Omani-mediated talks were still under way – especially after the events of 2025, when Israel launched the twelve-day war amid active U.S.-Iran talks. The combination of these precedents has eroded any faith the Islamic Republic might have had in resolving its disputes with the U.S. through negotiations. Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan has said Washington should at least have declared that this dialogue had failed before launching its campaign. Many Turkish officials share this view.

Secondly, Turkish interlocutors underline the challenge posed by conflicting timelines on the two sides of the negotiating table. In the run-up to the war, the Trump administration was eager for quick returns, both because Israel was agitating for military action and because the U.S. had undertaken a huge military build-up of its own in the Gulf, something it could not sustain indefinitely. In contrast, Tehran’s decision-making typically occurs slowly; its negotiators were proceeding deliberately, in spite of the urgency on the U.S. side. 

Thirdly, many in Ankara view Tehran as having overplayed its hand. Senior Turkish officials argue that a few timely compromises by Iran might have been sufficient to avert war. They perceived the U.S. to have signalled a margin for reaching a deal on the nuclear file, potentially including tolerating limited Iranian enrichment “within clearly set boundaries”. They also contend that Tehran should have been more constructive on the missile and regional proxies issues. They suggest U.S. proposals (relayed via intermediaries) on limiting missile range and support to proxies could have served as starting points for conversation, bilaterally or through the regional dialogue Türkiye proposed. Instead, Iran maintained its longstanding position that those two topics were out of bounds, undermining the value of negotiations in U.S. eyes. 

Once the U.S. and Israel attacked Iran on 28 February, Türkiye’s priority shifted from averting conflict to staying out of it. Ankara offered a muted response even when Iran launched four ballistic missiles toward Türkiye in March – likely targeting Turkish military facilities hosting NATO assets and forces. Rather than escalate, Ankara made statements and placed telephone calls to Iranian officials warning against further attempts, while refraining from retaliation. Turkish officials say restraint was possible because the missiles were few and easily destroyed by NATO air defences, causing no harm. Still, they express concern that Iran would fire upon Türkiye at all. 

Beyond its exposure to Iranian strikes (which have not been repeated since 30 March), Ankara is cognisant of strategic risks related to the war. One is that it could galvanise either of Türkiye’s regional rivals. Turkish officials worry that if Iran emerges from the war confident that its strikes on Gulf states, closure of the Strait of Hormuz and mobilisation of proxies like Hizbollah have shifted the balance of power back in its favour, it might seek to harness its newfound leverage to revert to its pre-2024 strategy of jockeying for geopolitical advantage far beyond its borders. Alternatively, Iranian collapse or capitulation could encourage an increasingly aggressive Israel to undertake further military adventures. In either of those scenarios, tensions between Ankara and the emboldened rival would heighten, with greater dangers of confrontation in areas of competition, including Iraq and Syria. 

Another strategic risk is that a prolonged war could destabilise the region for years. Iran’s strikes on Gulf Arab countries and blockage of maritime commerce have deeply damaged its relations with Gulf capitals. The longer these actions continue, the wider the rifts will get, particularly if the Gulf states begin to respond more forcibly. The Turks fear that hostilities could reach an intensity that renders it impossible to, as Foreign Minister Fidan put it, build a regional “framework based on cooperation, development and prosperity”. Moreover, Israel could well adopt a “mow the lawn” strategy by which it responds to real or perceived threats in the future by resuming attacks, eliciting new Iranian reprisals in the Gulf and again inflaming the Middle East. 

From Türkiye’s perspective, Israel’s approach to Iran fits within a strategy it has pursued since the Hamas attacks of 7 October 2023. Turkish officials assess that the Israeli government is increasingly determined to sow division among neighbours, with the aim of weakening states and consigning them to battle open-ended chaos – thereby reinforcing its own position. In that reading, the destruction that the Israeli military has wrought in Iran and Lebanon, and that Tehran has visited on Gulf countries in retaliation, work to Israel’s advantage. But Israel’s main security partner, namely, the U.S., does not necessarily see things that way. Ankara perceives that the Trump administration, while sharing Israel’s priority of blocking Iran’s path to nuclear weapons capability, differs from Israel in how it tallies the costs and benefits of regional war, with Washington showing greater concern for the damage that conflict would do to the global (and by extension the U.S.) economy. Turkish officials, like many others, wonder when that divergence in Israeli and U.S. interests might come to the fore, while noting that Israel has thus far proven more adept at leveraging U.S. support than Washington has in reining in its ally.

Türkiye has calibrated its diplomatic engagement to account for this view of both Israeli and U.S. perspectives. In its public messaging, Ankara primarily blames Israel for launching the war, rather than the Trump administration (with which it maintains strong relations, despite tensions during Trump’s first term). It criticises Iran’s strikes on Gulf states as unjustifiable and counterproductive, yet it urges the latter not to play to Israel’s advantage by responding militarily. It is continuing shuttle diplomacy among the U.S., Iran and Gulf states, now in coordination with Pakistan, Egypt and Saudi Arabia. The goal is to end the war as soon as possible, on terms that lower the risk of renewed conflict in Iran, the Gulf and elsewhere.

Ankara’s interest in a quick conclusion to the war in Iran is also rooted in anxiety about what could happen if the Iranian state falls apart or Iranian national territory fragments. Such scenarios appear less likely than feared during the war’s opening days, but they remain plausible if hostilities escalate further. They could threaten Turkish interests in ways that recall the Syrian war, but on a larger scale. Even with extensive financial support from the European Union, hosting nearly four million Syrian refugees put immense economic, social and political strain on Türkiye. Iran’s population of 92 million is roughly four times that of Syria, and the pressures resulting from an influx of Iranians could be destabilising. Türkiye took steps to fortify its 560km border with Iran prior to the conflict, but these might prove insufficient if violence spirals, and in the face of the humanitarian imperative that would create. 

Moreover, as during the Syrian civil war, any mobilisation of Kurdish armed factions in Iran would be a major worry for Ankara. When the current Middle East war began, the chances of a Kurdish revolt in Iran briefly appeared significant. Israel repeatedly struck Iranian positions along Iran’s border with Iraq’s Kurdistan region, where several armed Iranian Kurdish factions are based. A series of media reports citing Israeli, U.S. and Kurdish officials described Israeli and U.S. outreach to Iranian Kurdish factions, suggesting that efforts to encourage them to mount attacks inside Iran might be imminent. Such an endeavour would be unlikely to threaten the Islamic Republic’s hold on power – Kurds make up roughly 10 per cent of Iran’s population, and Kurdish factions are small and prone to rivalry among themselves. It could, however, be a bloody and protracted affair.

Beyond the mess it might make in Iran, a Kurdish rebellion would have major ramifications for Turkish interests. Ankara has long viewed Kurdish separatism in other countries as threatening, for fear that it might fuel similar sentiment among Türkiye’s Kurdish population of more than 15 million. Today, Ankara is in delicate talks with the PKK, which had been waging guerrilla war in south-eastern Türkiye for decades. (The group is designated as a terrorist organisation by Türkiye, the U.S. and the EU.) The PKK’s imprisoned leader, Abdullah Öcalan, called for the organisation to lay down arms in May 2025, adding momentum to a process that is widely seen as the best chance in at least a decade to end the conflict. But if the PKK’s Iranian affiliate were to enter the war, Ankara would see the move as the PKK jockeying for position at Türkiye’s expense – indeed, Ankara’s concerns that the group was leveraging its role in Syria undermined the last attempted negotiation process between them, in the period from 2013 to 2015. Öcalan has reportedly urged the PKK and Iranian Kurdish factions not to take this risk. 

The prospect of Kurdish groups mobilising in Iran has since receded, following entreaties from Ankara and a rethinking in Washington. As the reports of outreach to Kurdish factions emerged beginning on 3 March, senior Turkish officials spoke with their U.S. counterparts, Iraqi Kurdish leaders from both the region’s dominant parties and Syrian Kurdish figures closely aligned with a key Iranian Kurdish faction – urging all of them not to solicit Kurdish involvement in the war. A different kind of pressure came from Tehran, as Iran began striking facilities run by Iranian Kurdish factions in Iraq’s Kurdistan region and threatened Iraqi Kurdish leaders with retaliation if they allowed cross-border infiltration. 

The cumulative impact was quick. Iraqi Kurdish leaders publicly distanced themselves from the idea, Iranian Kurdish parties began to downplay it, too, and President Trump indicated he had decided against backing such an effort. As various senior Kurdish officials and figures explained to Crisis Group, once it became clear that the U.S. would offer no protection from Iranian retaliatory bombardment or explicit support for Kurdish rights in Iran’s political future, the costs of a rebellion appeared prohibitively high. That will likely remain the case unless Iran loses control of border areas or the regime shows signs of cracking up. 

Türkiye has another concern about fragmentation in Iran, namely how it might affect the estimated 15 million Azeris in Iran, with whom Turks share linguistic, ethnic and cultural ties. Azeris are better integrated into the Iranian economy and state (including the security forces) than Kurds, less politically organised, and much less inclined to pursue autonomy. But as Turkish officials game out potential scenarios, they assess that an eventual Kurdish revolt might push Azeris to follow suit, given that the peoples live next to each other in Iran’s rugged north east. Such a scenario currently appears unlikely; but if it occurred, the ensuing strife could put pressure on Ankara to support Turkic compatriots in Iran. 

Ankara has likewise been keeping an eye on the risk that Azerbaijan, whose affinities with Iranian Azeris are deeper than Türkiye’s, might be pulled into the conflict. In the war’s early days, Turkish officials watched for signs that Israel might leverage its defence and intelligence ties with Baku to draw Azerbaijan into the war. Tehran’s tactics also risked pushing in that direction: on 5 March, Iranian drones struck Azerbaijan’s exclave of Nakhchivan. Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev condemnedthe attack as an “act of terror” and said “independent Azerbaijan is a place of hope for Azerbaijanis living in Iran”. But this statement appears to be as far as Baku has gone, and Iran has made no further strike on Azerbaijan’s territory. Turkish officials have encouraged restraint in Baku, which they believe largely shares their trepidation regarding the perils of ethnic conflict in Iran. Risk of the latter appears low amid the current ceasefire, but it could increase if fighting reignites and escalates.  

As it engages in de-escalation efforts with Pakistan, Egypt and Saudi Arabia, Türkiye is trying to use its geopolitical advantages both to help settle the conflict and to prepare the ground for expanding its influence after the war’s end. It has several features that make it an attractive prospect for regional states looking to bolster and diversify their security partnerships in the face of perceived threats from Iran or Israel. Its military strength, alliance with Washington and NATO membership help it deter Israel from encroaching on its interests, while its formal relations with Israel provide another tool for managing risks of confrontation. These factors, along with its drone industry, render it a logical partner for Gulf Arab states looking to improve their defences and supplement their strategic relationships with Washington. 

Ankara also shares an interest with Gulf capitals in the development of prospective land corridors that would reduce reliance on shipping in the Strait of Hormuz. For example, Ankara, Damascus and Washington are studying proposals for pipelines that would carry Gulf oil and gas through Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Syria and Türkiye to European markets. The significant costs and risks of that long-discussed idea may now appear more palatable, particularly given the growing interest in finding a hedge against Iranian leverage over the strait and potential attacks on Red Sea shipping by the Iran-aligned Houthis in Yemen. 

To be sure, deepening cooperation between Ankara and Gulf capitals would require setting aside a recent history of bumpy relations. Amid the political tumult sparked by the 2011 Arab uprisings, Türkiye (alongside Qatar) frequently – and at times sharply – diverged from Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates. They found themselves on opposing sides over the 2013 ouster of former President Mohamed Morsi in Egypt, backed competing rebel factions in Syria and supported different rival governments in Libya. The gap widened when Ankara stood with Doha during an intra-Gulf feud from 2017 to 2021. 

Some but not all of these rifts have begun to heal. Türkiye and Saudi Arabia have repaired their relations (even as a sense of competition over regional leadership lingers), and are now coordinating diplomacy, together with Pakistan and Egypt, in support of U.S.-Iran negotiations. Ties between Ankara and Abu Dhabi remain fraught, however, as the two capitals compete for influence in the Horn of Africa and elsewhere. Recent tensions between the UAE and Saudi Arabia further complicate matters, as Turkish officials are wary of being drawn into another intra-Gulf dispute. The shared interests among Türkiye and Gulf states in reducing collective exposure to Iranian missiles, drones and leverage over the Strait of Hormuz are clear; but acting on them will require building more trust and compartmentalising areas of continued competition. 

As for its main regional rivals, Iran and Israel, Türkiye is likely to try to keep tensions with both from bubbling over. Ankara would aim to maintain diplomatic channels with Tehran even if it expands bilateral cooperation with Gulf partners. Long experience with this sort of balancing act – for example, maintaining constructive relations with Russia even as they backed opposite sides in Syria and elsewhere, and amid Turkish support for Ukraine – could help Turkish diplomats manage a similarly tricky dynamic in the Middle East.

Relations with Israel are the biggest challenge. Rivalry between Türkiye and Israel is likely to intensify amid today’s geopolitical upheaval, as each broadens efforts to protect interests and pursue opportunities in the Gulf, the Horn of Africa and the Levant. The risk of confrontation will increase accordingly, particularly in Syria. Another source of friction will be Ankara’s vigorous opposition to Israel’s treatment of Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank, which it sees as destructive, provocative and largely heedless of Palestinian rights. These substantive divergences are reinforced by domestic politics: leaders on each side see benefit in bashing the other, a dynamic that is likely to worsen as Israel approaches elections scheduled for October. 

In this environment, the best that might realistically be hoped for is to start reversing the trend of deepening mistrust with some very basic confidence building measures – eg, quietly agreeing to tone down official rhetoric and expanding channels of communication. While steps along these lines are difficult to envision at the moment, prospects could improve after the Israeli elections, particularly if the situations in Lebanon, Gaza and Iran show signs of progress.

Then, if Türkiye and Israel eventually succeed in reducing tensions, it may become possible to broaden discussions beyond the bare minimum goal of averting unintended escalation. Divergence on Syria, for example, might prove easier to manage after the U.S.-Israeli war with Iran than it was beforehand. With Israel’s hopes for Iranian regime change and Hizbollah collapse appearing less realistic, perhaps the importance of blocking weapons smuggling to the latter will lead it to share Ankara’s interest in seeing Damascus improve domestic stability and control of its borders. The Trump administration could also help encourage compromise, building on its mediation between Israel and Syria prior to the Iran war – which yielded a significant reduction in Israeli strikes on Syria, even as a broader security agreement remained beyond reach. In any scenario, however, Turkish-Israeli competition is likely to remain a central dynamic in the region long after the current Middle East war has wound down.