Qamar Bashir
The Ankara Summit exposes an alliance increasingly forced to manage the temperament of the American presidency while struggling to manage the security of the Western world.
The very architecture of the Ankara Summit reveals NATO’s political discomfort. The alliance has already established the precedent of tailoring its highest-level meetings to President Donald Trump’s well-reported aversion to prolonged diplomatic sessions. At The Hague, diplomats deliberately designed a single two-and-a-half-hour working session around his limited attention span and the fear of disruptive outbursts or an early departure. Ankara has retained the same philosophy of compression: although the summit formally stretches across July 7 and 8, the principal leaders’ working session is expected to last only about three hours.
This is extraordinary for an alliance confronting simultaneous crises in Ukraine, Iran, the Strait of Hormuz, Greenland, the American military drawdown from Europe and growing uncertainty over the future of Article 5. NATO is not short of issues to discuss; it is short of political confidence that its most powerful leader will tolerate a prolonged and potentially confrontational discussion. The compressed format is therefore not an administrative convenience. It is a symptom of an alliance increasingly managing the temperament of the American presidency while struggling to manage the security of the Western world.
The official agenda sounds conventional: defence investment, increased military production and continued support for Ukraine. NATO’s own summit programme emphasises progress towards the historic 5 percent defence investment plan and the conversion of increased spending into production, cooperation and joint procurement. Leaders are expected to reaffirm collective defence while demonstrating that Europe is finally responding to Washington’s demand for greater burden-sharing.
But the real Ankara agenda is much larger than the official document. President Trump arrived with open grievances against European allies over their refusal to materially support the American-led war against Iran. He has publicly questioned the value of America’s existing NATO commitment and argued that Washington gives far more to Europe than it receives in return. The Iran war has transformed an old argument over defence spending into a deeper dispute over political loyalty.
Europe’s answer is equally significant. NATO’s Article 5 is not a blank cheque obligating every ally to participate in every war initiated by one member outside the alliance’s treaty area. Washington did not seek collective NATO authorisation before the Iran conflict. Several European governments therefore refused to convert an American-Israeli military campaign into a NATO war. Trump interpreted their refusal as abandonment. Europeans viewed their decision as an exercise of sovereign judgement.
This difference goes to the heart of NATO’s emerging crisis. The United States increasingly appears to define alliance solidarity as support for its global military priorities. Europe still sees NATO primarily as the shield of the Euro-Atlantic area against Russia. Washington wants burden-sharing, military access and political loyalty. Europe wants American deterrence but greater freedom to decide when and where it fights. These are no longer minor diplomatic differences. They are competing interpretations of the alliance itself.
The Strait of Hormuz has now forced the Middle East directly onto the Ankara table. NATO foreign ministers are meeting Gulf counterparts from Bahrain, Kuwait, Qatar and the United Arab Emirates amid continuing tensions over the strategic waterway. France and Britain have proposed a multinational maritime mission to facilitate safe navigation.
The emerging U.S.-Iran peace framework has further complicated the strategic picture. Iran is no longer being treated merely as an isolated regional state. The war and the struggle over Hormuz have demonstrated its capacity to disrupt maritime trade, absorb enormous military punishment and impose costs on adversaries. Whether one supports Tehran or opposes it, this strategic reality cannot be ignored. The question confronting NATO is whether the West continues attempting to militarily break Iran or accepts that any durable Middle Eastern security architecture will eventually require negotiations with it.
Türkiye’s position is equally important. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has directly opposed the provision of F-35 fighter aircraft and advanced fighter engines to Türkiye, warning that such transfers could disturb the Middle Eastern balance of power and weaken Israel’s air superiority. Yet Trump arrived in Ankara signalling openness to restoring Türkiye’s access to advanced American combat aircraft. On July 7, he announced the lifting of U.S. defence sanctions on Türkiye and said Washington would consider the F-35 sale.
The political language between Ankara and Israel has become exceptionally harsh. Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan described Israel as a burden on humanity, prompting Israeli accusations of genocidal incitement. Netanyahu has simultaneously intensified his campaign against advanced weapons transfers to Türkiye. Behind these verbal exchanges lies a much larger strategic struggle: who will shape the post-Iran-war Middle East?
The Gaza peace process adds another layer to this confrontation. Hamas, despite all the controversy surrounding it, has now taken a visible administrative step required by the peace framework. Israel, meanwhile, continues military operations in Gaza, and Netanyahu has previously directed Israeli forces to expand their territorial control. If a peace plan guaranteed and promoted by Washington is continuously eroded on the ground, the credibility of American diplomacy itself comes into question.
The widening differences between Trump and Netanyahu therefore deserve closer attention. Their relationship remains strategically important, but disagreement over Iran and Türkiye is becoming increasingly visible. Netanyahu has acknowledged occasional differences with Trump over Iran and has strongly opposed Washington’s possible F-35 sale to Ankara. Trump’s willingness to lift sanctions on Türkiye despite Israeli objections is an unmistakable demonstration that the American President is prepared, at least on certain issues, to pursue interests that do not fully correspond with Netanyahu’s preferences.
While the Middle East consumes NATO’s attention, Ukraine remains the alliance’s most immediate European security crisis. Russian missile and drone attacks have intensified, with deadly strikes around Kyiv immediately before the summit. Ukraine urgently needs advanced interceptors, particularly against ballistic missiles. Yet the Iran war has exposed Western shortages of sophisticated air-defence systems and precision munitions. The same limited stocks are required to protect Israel, defend American forces and sustain Ukraine.
The summit may approve billions in arms contracts. NATO has already showcased at least $50 billion in defence deals. Leaders may reaffirm their “ironclad commitment” to collective defence. They will speak of Ukraine, industrial production and the 5 percent spending target. The photographs will display unity.
But photographs cannot conceal strategic drift. The most revealing features of Ankara may be its compressed working session, the carefully managed encounters with Trump, the anxiety over American troop reductions, the disagreement over Iran, the contest between Türkiye and Israel, the struggle over Hormuz, the shortage of weapons for Ukraine and the extraordinary unresolved dispute over Greenland.
History may therefore remember Ankara not as the summit where NATO collapsed, but as the moment when Europe quietly began imagining NATO—and its own security—without unquestioned American leadership.
The writer is Press Secretary to the President (Rtd),Former Press Minister, Embassy of Pakistan to France,Former Press Attaché to Malaysia and Former MD, SRBC.He is living in Michigan, USA
