Running out of friends

OVER the decades Turkey’s relations with America, its principal military ally, have withstood coups, skirmishes with Greece (a fellow NATO ally) and the invasion of Cyprus in 1974. Of late, however, the friendship has grown testier, particularly over the civil war in Syria and the American-led campaign against Islamic State (IS). With the failed coup, ties are close to openly hostile.

One Turkish minister, Suleyman Soylu, claimed (with no evidence) that America was behind the putsch. Pro-government media teemed with conspiracy theories. In Yeni Safak, a daily newspaper, Aydin Unal, an MP from President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s Justice and Development (AK) party, even suggested that American army officers disguised as Turkish ones had taken part in the fighting. For a time the government cut off electricity to Incirlik air base, from which America conducts air raids against IS. Some of the planes that took part in the failed coup were said to have been stationed there; the Turkish commander of the base was arrested.

A more contentious issue is the presence in America of Fethullah Gulen, the head of an Islamist movement that was once allied with Mr Erdogan but has become his nemesis. Turkey wants Mr Gulen extradited (he denies involvement in the coup, and denounces it). If America insists on evidence to satisfy its courts—beyond a four-volume dossier provided by Turkey—“even questioning our friendship may be brought to the agenda here,” warned Binali Yildirim, the prime minister.

The reaction from America has been just as blunt: it is Turkey that is endangering ties with America and the West. “Public insinuations or claims about any role by the United States in the failed coup attempt are utterly false and harmful to our bilateral relations,” said John Kerry, America’s secretary of state. In other remarks, he warned Mr Erdogan against using the coup as an excuse to clamp down on his opponents. A wide-ranging purge, he said, “would be a great challenge to his relationship to Europe, to NATO and to all of us.”

Were Turkey applying for NATO membership today, it would have little chance of success. Under the terms of NATO’s “membership action plan”, applicants are required “to have stable democratic systems, pursue the peaceful settlement of territorial and ethnic disputes, have good relations with their neighbours, show commitment to the rule of law and human rights, establish democratic and civilian control of their armed forces, and have a market economy.” As things stand, Turkey only ticks the last box. The Washington treaty, which established NATO in 1949, allows for a member to leave after giving 12 months’ notice, but there is no provision for expelling one.

America’s defence secretary, Ash Carter, makes no secret of his distaste for Mr Erdogan. He was infuriated by Turkey’s refusal to allow American aircraft to strike IS from Incirlik until this time last year. If the base again becomes a bargaining chip, calls from Congress to abandon it for another one elsewhere will grow louder.

In recent months tensions have run high over America’s de facto alliance with the Syrian Kurdish militia known as the People’s Protection Units (YPG). It is regarded by America as the most effective ground force against IS in Syria; but it is seen by Turkey as closely related, if not identical, to the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), which has resumed its decades-long insurgency for autonomy inside Turkey.

Several American pundits ask whether Turkey is still a reliable ally. Among their reasons for doubting it are Mr Erdogan’s disregard for democratic liberties, his self-harming Syria policy and his penchant for stirring up the AK party’s religious base with crude anti-American rhetoric.

Turkey’s relations with the EU, by far its largest trading partner, have been no less fraught. In March, in exchange for Turkish efforts to reduce the flow of refugees and other migrants to Greece, the EU made several promises. It agreed to revive Turkey’s stalled accession bid, accelerate the abolition of short-term visas for Turkish tourists and businessmen, and fund Turkish efforts to support refugees. The deal was heavily criticised, in part because it relied on the EU designating Turkey a “safe country” for refugees. Now its first two elements, at least, may be in jeopardy.

Mr Erdogan would be wise not to create more enemies than he already has. For this reason, some EU officials believe he will honour the migrant deal. Moreover, Mr Erdogan no longer enjoys the leverage he did last autumn, when thousands of refugees were crossing from Turkey to Greece every day. The western Balkan route that most migrants followed on their way to Europe’s heart is now closed, and word has spread quickly. Even with the full co-operation of the Turkish gendarmerie and coastguard, migrants would have little reason to try their luck in Greece, for they could not easily go farther.

Under the terms of the deal most arrivals in Greece were supposed to be returned to Turkey to have their asylum claims processed. But asylum adjudicators in Greece often refuse to send migrants back. The unfolding chaos in Turkey presents them with a fresh argument not to deport anyone. The groaning camps on Greek islands hold around 9,000 asylum-seekers, and are swelling daily.

Moreover, Turkey may be less willing to accept returns if it does not win visa-free access to the EU’s Schengen passport-free zone. European officials had hoped for a breakthrough in the autumn, but European governments (and the European Parliament) that must sign off on the visa deal will be less minded to overlook Mr Erdogan’s excesses.

The accession process, which has never been easy, is also on the rocks. At a summit this week EU foreign ministers declared firmly that Mr Erdogan’s threatened reintroduction of the death penalty would kill Turkey’s candidacy. Germany, the most important advocate of the migrant pact, was particularly tough. A spokesman for Angela Merkel, the chancellor, condemned the “revolting scenes of caprice and revenge” against Turkish soldiers; Mr Erdogan’s subsequent purges of judges raised “profound and worrisome questions”.

The challenge for Europe is to find a way to argue that Mr Erdogan remains a credible partner in managing migration without tempering its criticism of his growing authoritarianism. Some worry that the next wave of asylum-seekers to Europe will be Turkish citizens.

The upheaval in Turkey matters to the Arab world, where Mr Erdogan has played an influential role. Mainstream Syrian rebel groups, squeezed around Aleppo, fear abandonment by Turkey. Newspapers in Egypt—a country run by Abdel-Fattah al-Sisi, a general who seized power in a coup and has been bitterly at odds with Mr Erdogan over his support for the Muslim Brotherhood—ran hopeful headlines announcing that the Turkish president had been overthrown. With no hint of irony, they now denounce his crackdown.

Can allies persuade Mr Erdogan to change course? Intriguingly, just before the coup attempt he acted to end two diplomatic rows. In June he struck a deal with Israel to normalise relations, which had broken down in 2010 after Israeli forces killed nine Turkish citizens trying to breach a naval blockade of Gaza. Mr Erdogan also apologised to Russia for shooting down a Russian fighter jet in November when it briefly entered Turkish airspace (hence the nervousness of Syrian rebels). But neither Israel nor Russia can substitute for Turkey’s military ties with America, or its economic ones with Europe. Whether Mr Erdogan realises that is another matter.