NOTHING makes Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s day like a chance to claim the moral high ground, cast himself as the leader of the Muslim world, and stick it to the West. For nearly three months, the war in Gaza has allowed Turkey’s president to do just that. At a recent conference, Mr Erdogan was in his element, taking swings at Israel for bombing northern Gaza into the ground, and at Western duplicity. “A journalist is killed each day,” he said, referring to the 68 media workers killed in Gaza since the start of Israel’s bombing campaign. “But none of the institutions who preach to us about press freedom for years says even a single word.”
That of course is an exaggeration. Human-rights watchdogs have been slamming Israel for the killings of Palestinian civilians and journalists since the start of the war. But in Turkey, the charges Mr Erdogan now levels against Western countries at nearly every public appearance tend to stick. With the Gazan authorities saying that the death toll from Israel’s bombardment has passed 20,000, criticism of Western policy and accusations of double standards in Turkey are reaching new heights. Speak not just with officials in Ankara, but with opposition politicians, dissidents, and ordinary Turks, and you will hear that Western governments that sanctioned Turkey for using disproportionate force in northern Syria ought to, but refuse to, sanction Israel for doing much worse in Gaza; that those that criticise Turkey for banning anti-government protests lose the moral right to do so when they ban pro-Palestinian marches at home; and so on.
Similar sentiments have been widespread in many parts of the global south, even before Gaza. But Turkey is a Muslim country whose human-rights record invites considerably more scrutiny than most, because of its membership of NATO and its aspirations to join the EU; its relationship with the West is immensely important. Hence accusations of Western hypocrisy leave a bigger mark than in most other parts of the world. They play into Mr Erdogan’s hands, reinforcing his argument that Turkey should have no patience for Western values and should chart its own course. They weaken his democratically-minded opponents. And they sap outside attempts to promote human rights.
Turkey’s relations with Europe and America were already strained. The war in Gaza has compounded the damage. Mr Erdogan continues to defend Hamas, unlike Western leaders, who want nothing to do with militants responsible for the gruesome murder of 1,200 Israelis, or even many Arab strongmen, who heap opprobrium on Israel but quietly hope that the war will spell the end of the group. Mr Erdogan says Hamas are not terrorists, but “mujahideen”, or holy warriors. The war means that his government’s longstanding relationship with the group has been put under the microscope. The group’s exiled leaders, including those who are based in Turkey, claim to have been unaware of preparations for the attack on October 7th. Evidence to the contrary could expose Turkey to charges of negligence at best, and complicity at worst.
Mr Erdogan’s defence of Hamas has upended Turkey’s fledgling rapprochement with Israel, and cost him any chance of a photo-op with Joe Biden in the near future. Combined with his decision to delay Sweden’s accession to NATO, it may also force America’s Congress to shelve a planned sale of F-16 warplanes to Turkey. Turkish approval is required for Sweden to join the alliance; its outrage over America’s handling of the war in Gaza has added to the risk its parliament may instead scuttle the membership bid entirely.
But the long-term implications are just as serious. Israel’s bombing campaign in Gaza may make it harder for Western countries to take Turkey to task for attacking civilian infrastructure in Syria, where Turkish troops are fighting Kurdish insurgents. Appeals for Turkey to condemn Russian war crimes in Ukraine risk falling flat when America brushes aside evidence of Israeli ones in Gaza. The perception of Western double standards has already compromised the ability of Europe and America to discuss norms with Turkey, as opposed to just interests. “It was hard enough before Gaza to talk about human rights because Erdogan is so intolerant of outside criticism,” says one Western diplomat. “Now it will be exponentially more so.”
Gaza does not matter to Turkey the same way that it matters to much of the Arab world. With the exception of a vocal religious minority, who consider the conflict their own, most Turks do not identify with the Palestinians (unlike most Arabs). But the vast majority, including the secular opposition, do sympathise with them. According to one recent poll, 76% of Turks side with the Palestinians, compared with only 5% who side with Israel.
But the conflict also matters to the dwindling number of Turks who see their country as part of the Western order. The West’s stock in Turkey is waning, because its policies are increasingly at odds with Turkey’s, but also because many Turks feel that Western norms and values disintegrate on impact with places like Gaza. In a poll published only days before the October 7th massacre, a mere 12% of Turks identified America as a friendly country, compared with 77% who saw it as an enemy. Support for America and most European countries is certain to be even lower today.
The outside world’s inability to stop the fighting in Gaza not only offers Mr Erdogan the moral high ground he craves, but makes him stronger and even less accountable for his own abuses of power, according to Yigit Aksakoglu, an exiled Turkish civil society activist. “This is a race to the bottom,” he says. Before he was acquitted, Mr Aksakoglu had spent seven months in prison on bogus terror charges for his alleged involvement in protests against Mr Erdogan’s government. “One of the biggest hypocrites of our time is accusing Western leaders of hypocrisy,” he says. But most Turks, including Mr Aksakoglu, agree that these days the hypocrite may have a point. “Erdogan’s right,” he says. “And for the West this is a shame.”
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