Why is Turkey absent from the table despite being in the field?
Azerbaijan has argued for Turkey’s inclusion into the settlement process, either as a co-chair of the Minsk Group — a body created by the Organization for Cooperation and Security in Europe — or through some other formula, but it has failed to convince its interlocutors thus far. After approving the terms of the cease-fire declaration, Azeri President Ilham Aliyev insisted that Turkey should be involved, only to be spurned by Russia and Armenia. UN Security Council resolutions have similarly upheld the Minsk Group as the settlement platform in the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict.
Despite its adamant posturing for an end to the Armenian occupation of Azeri territories and vocal questioning of the efficiency of the Minsk Group, Ankara is well aware of its limits in the Caucasus, a Russian sphere of influence for two centuries. It has no choice but to limit its ambitions to gaining some meaningful role on the Minsk platform. It would be ready to join a cease-fire monitoring mission proposed by the Minsk Group about a decade ago if such an initiative finally takes off. Confining the mission to some form of Turkish-Russian collaboration, similar to the Turkish-Russian joint patrols in Syria, would be an even better outcome for Ankara. This, however, would mean Russian acquiescence to role-sharing with Turkey, a highly unlikely prospect.
The latest developments in Libya have similarly shown how Turkey’s presence “in the field” is not working as expected, even though its military assistance for the Tripoli-based Government of National Accord (GNA) had tipped the scales in the war earlier this year. Egypt, which had threatened to intervene to stop the advance of the Turkish-backed forces, has managed to stay in the game as a mediator. Given Ankara’s bitter rivalry with Cairo that goes beyond Libya, Egypt’s hosting of talks between the Libyan parties is a clear indication of Turkey being sidelined from the process.
Most recently, the Tobruk-based Libyan House of Representatives and Tripoli’s High Council of State met in Cairo Oct. 11-13 to discuss constitutional issues, with Egypt’s intelligence chief steering the dialogue. The negotiations followed UN-mediated military and security talks in the Egyptian city of Hurghada and other meetings in Cairo in September. Further talks on constitutional matters are expected to take place in Egypt.
The Turkish government, for its part, is seeking to influence the process via GNA representatives, who are frequent guests in Ankara. Of note, Germany’s efforts have also been instrumental in bringing the warring parties to the negotiating table.
Turkey’s involvement in Libya is closely related to its energy ambitions in the eastern Mediterranean, which have fueled tensions with Greece and Cyprus in particular over territorial and exploration rights. Turkey has resorted to muscle-flexing in the seas as well, although it has had other means to force negotiations on the matter.
In short, Ankara has proven its ability to “spoil games” in conflict zones, as government proponents would brag, yet it is struggling to be a playmaker, falling short of the strategic approaches that playmaking requires. Several reasons can be cited for that failure.
Above all, Ankara’s field-table equation goes wrong because of the disparity between its goals and means. Despite being NATO’s second-largest standing force, Turkey tends to exaggerate its military deterrence in distant regions. The efficiency of Turkish armed drones in the conflicts in Syria, Libya and the Caucasus has led to an overblown sense of “strategic power,” though such power projection takes more than drones. The Libyan experience in particular has shown that Turkey’s military capabilities fall short in ventures far beyond its borders. Moreover, the government’s bragging about “fully indigenous” drones took a blow earlier this month as Canada suspended the export of crucial drone parts to Turkey.
How others perceive Turkey’s might is equally important. Ankara would frequently hurl threats that it cannot follow through. As a result, its warnings and threats have come to be often seen as blackmail or bluffing, designed for bargaining purposes, or as domestic grandstanding by a government that has grown reliant on the support of nationalist quarters.
Another downside stems from Ankara’s tendency to ignore or underestimate the close-neighbor factor in the regions where it intervenes militarily or becomes otherwise involved. Egypt’s clout in the Libyan crisis and Russia’s decisive role in the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict come as reminders in this context.
Turkey’s miscalculations owe also to its tendency to believe that the actors it backs will always adhere to its course of action. Yet neither its Libyan nor Azeri allies would like Turkey’s support to be as imposing as to leave them without room to maneuver.
Additionally, Turkey’s foreign policy has become overly quarrelsome, alienating allies and contributing to Turkey’s growing isolation in the international arena. And Turkey’s use of Syrian militants as an intervention tool in other conflicts is backfiring.
In sum, the growing militarization of Ankara’s foreign policy is eroding its diplomatic abilities. While failing to match the show of force, Turkish diplomacy has turned to a bellicose, quarrelsome and provocative language that makes it even harder to get results. Examples of how Turkey is losing credibility and leverage are increasing. To cite a few, Egypt has not only seized the initiative in Libya, but has nourished close ties with Russia to the point of holding joint military drills in the Black Sea. France has forayed into the Mediterranean showdown with an aircraft carrier, and the United States, too, appears inclined to back Greece and Cyprus as Turkey is increasingly seen as a “problem country” by its NATO allies and the European Union, despite its key geographic location and economic potential.