The NATO summit is over. Once again, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan was welcomed as an indispensable ally despite another year of democratic backsliding at home and inflammatory rhetoric abroad. The meetings concluded, the communiqués were issued and the photographs were taken. But one question lingers: What does it say about the democratic world when one of its most celebrated partners has spent years dismantling the very values the alliance claims to defend?
No one doubts Turkey’s strategic importance. It occupies a critical geographic position, commands NATO’s second-largest military and remains central to regional security. The United States and its allies cannot simply turn their backs on Ankara.
But there is a profound difference between maintaining an alliance and conferring legitimacy.
For more than two decades, Erdogan has steadily concentrated power, weakened judicial independence, curtailed press freedoms and used the machinery of government against political opponents. The continuing prosecution of opposition leaders and suppression of dissent are no longer temporary departures from democratic practice. They have become defining features of his presidency.
Around the world, aspiring strongmen watch how democracies treat established ones.
Yet the democratic world has largely adjusted. Erdogan is routinely welcomed at international summits because strategic necessity too often outweighs principle. That accommodation carries consequences. When democracies normalize authoritarian behavior, they send a message that values are negotiable if a government is sufficiently useful.
For Jews and supporters of Israel, the concern is especially acute. Erdogan has gone well beyond criticizing Israeli policy. He has embraced Hamas politically, repeatedly employed inflammatory anti-Israel rhetoric and sought to cast himself as the leading international voice against the Jewish state. Even in recent weeks, as the region has struggled to contain wider conflict, his language has remained designed to inflame rather than resolve.
That makes the growing congressional opposition to providing Turkey with advanced American fighter aircraft both understandable and appropriate. Sophisticated American weapons should not be transferred without regard to the broader conduct of the governments receiving them. Alliance obligations should not erase accountability, particularly when those governments undermine democratic norms and openly target one of America’s closest allies.
None of this means the United States should sever relations with Turkey. Statesmanship often requires working with difficult leaders. But there is an important distinction between diplomacy and deference, between recognizing geopolitical reality and pretending authoritarianism is simply another governing style.
The democratic world has spent generations arguing that freedom, the rule of law and respect for human rights distinguish it from its adversaries. Those principles lose credibility when their defenders repeatedly look the other way because doing otherwise would be inconvenient.
Democracies cannot always choose their allies. They can choose whom they honor, whom they reward and whom they legitimize. If we treat authoritarianism as the acceptable price of strategic convenience, we should not be surprised when the next generation of leaders concludes that democracy itself is negotiable.