As computer engineers well know, denoting software as 1.0, 2.0, or 3.0 signifies the release of a major new version. It must entail changes and enhancements of a substantial enough scale compared to its predecessor to earn that “.0” suffix. If users find these updates underwhelming, a common refrain emerges: “They really should have called this 2.9!”

This is precisely the impression left by the “NATO 3.0” order that the alliance attempted to forge at the Ankara summit. The US-centric world we grew accustomed to in the 2.0 era is gone, yet this new equation lacks the substance to be deemed a true 3.0. NATO 3.0 was a concept popularized by Elbridge Colby, the US Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Policy, envisioning a security architecture in which Europe assumes greater responsibility. The foundations of this architecture were to be laid at the Ankara summit. This distinct framing signaled that the alliance was not merely seeking to hobble along with minor “patches” but was gearing up for a fundamental overhaul to shake off its decades-long inertia. Yet, this new design harbored an inherent paradox: if the son of the household earns his own livelihood, why should he continue to obey his father? Why, once European nations scale up their defense spending, should they align their enmities and alliances strictly with Washington’s dictates? In the absence of the American hegemony that sustained the alliance for 77 years, what is left to take its place?

A disintegrating family

Tunç Akkoç, the Editor-in-Chief of Harici, and I covered the summit on-site. On the first day, we heard “warm” and “amiable” messages, particularly from Secretary General Mark Rutte. Everyone spoke of being a family, of being a cohesive whole. Beyond good wishes and platitudes, NATO, for the first time, focused on quantity rather than quality. Dozens of military-industrial agreements aimed not just at sophisticated technologies, but at establishing production lines capable of generating sheer numerical advantage. Affordable, replenishable combat assets were the center of attention.

The messaging and the atmosphere at the panels could have been said to project a positive outlook for the future of NATO—had Trump not arrived, that is.

Fresh off the plane, the US President first reiterated his designs on Greenland, and then picked a fight with Spain. He characterized them as “an impossible country, not worth talking to” and threatened to suspend trade. As Trump hurled these aggressive remarks, Rutte, sitting right beside him, scrambled to perform damage control, looking much like the child of a collapsing family who thinks, “If I only project enough cheer, maybe I can keep everyone together.” At the press conference, I asked Rutte:

“You find Trump justified regarding operations against Iran; if conflict erupts once more and President Trump calls on the Europeans for support, will you endorse this?”

Rutte gave a lengthy but ultimately unsatisfying answer. The curious part was that he partially agreed with Trump regarding Europe’s complacency. This behavior was not unique to Rutte. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz took a similar path, stating, “It seems Trump had to tell us bluntly to increase weapons production; Trump was right about this.” Seeing that past attempts to criticize Trump—particularly over Iran—failed to yield the desired outcome, Merz apparently resorted to the proven strategy of appeasement.

Yet, this appeasement was not enough. The final communique released at the end of the summit laid bare a stark reality: NATO could no longer define its adversaries as it once did. The language concerning Russia was milder than in previous years, while Iran was subject to a vague assertion that it “cannot possess nuclear weapons,” and China was not even mentioned. In the text, the US made no commitments against Russia, nor did the EU make any promises to Trump regarding Iran or China. While support for Ukraine was earmarked at $70 billion annually, whether the US would play any role in this was left entirely ambiguous.

Let us be honest: in the near term, neither does Trump have any intention of bringing Ukraine aid packages to Congress, nor does Europe plan to provide any serious military backing regarding Iran. Both sides prefer to tell one another, “Go get ’em, tiger, you’ve got this.” But why? Why does Europe refrain from striking Iran, whom it previously designated an enemy? Why does it avoid taking a stand against China, once deemed a threat? Why does the US want to distance itself from the Ukrainian quagmire, a theater in which it was involved for years through NGOs and military assistance?

NATO’s multipolar paradox

By its very nature, NATO is an alliance that must speak with a single voice during major geopolitical crises. This was relatively easy during the Cold War and its immediate aftermath. There was only one center of power. Alternatives were unthinkable. Ideological confrontations drew sharp boundaries. Today, however, it is impossible for the US to dictate common objectives and shared adversaries. Nations engage with one another unburdened by ideological affinities. Aided by globalization, they decentralize their industries and establish trade routes that are too valuable to abandon.

European nations, which point to their eager deployment in Afghanistan and Iraq to counter Trump’s criticisms, now avoid operations around the Strait of Hormuz that could prolong conflict, fearing a catastrophic shock to oil markets. (Though what European militaries could achieve that the US could not remains highly debatable). Moreover, Trump’s stubborn fixation on Greenland had previously driven Europeans straight to Beijing. How, then, could European capitals brand China as a threat today?

A similar divergence of opinion applies to the United States itself. Believing that Russia’s military capabilities have been sufficiently degraded in Ukraine, the American establishment hopes to placate Russia—both to lower the risk of nuclear confrontation and to prevent Moscow from offering Beijing a cheap source of energy. Under these circumstances, why would the US target Russia in the summit’s communique?

Furthermore, there is no real consensus even within Europe itself. From the recent tensions erupting between Poland and Ukraine, to Péter Magyar—who, despite succeeding Orbán, has brought no radical shift on Russia—dissenting voices persist across the continent. When we factor in the rise of Germany’s AfD, the UK’s Reform Party, and Le Pen in France, whose electoral future remains uncertain, they may soon look back on today’s fractured Europe with nostalgia.

Ultimately, a Europe that begins to act independently of the US (even if this is what Washington desires) will naturally prioritize its own national interests. Inevitable clashes of interest will lead to independent coalitions within NATO. Hatchets buried for a century will slowly be unearthed. In other words, for NATO to survive, it needs a Europe that assumes responsibility; yet, this very responsibility may trigger conflicts of interest that could spell the end of NATO. This is the intractable paradox of NATO 3.0. In an alliance like NATO, “co-presidency” simply does not work.

Why 2.9?

In the grip of such a paradox, European nations have yet to clearly chart their own course. They envision a NATO where they produce more and take on greater responsibility, yet they remain unable to map out their own path. European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen also attended the Ankara summit. Having previously declared that “Türkiye must avoid Russian and Chinese influence,” von der Leyen gave evasive answers when questioned about defense agreements signed with Türkiye. She, too, is currently unable to define Europe’s strategic trajectory. She cannot prevent European industries, struggling to keep pace with military demand in the shadow of the war in Ukraine, from partnering with Turkish firms. Nor can she stop member states from engaging with China whenever they receive a dressing-down from the US. In such a landscape, what “3.0” can we possibly speak of? In the new order, will Europe stand with the US? Will it gravitate toward China? Or will it stand alone?

There was only one sentiment that felt palpable at the Ankara summit: panic. The panic of a United States unable to pivot to the Pacific as the war in Iran—which was supposed to end swiftly—drags on, and the panic of a Europe terrified of being left stranded once stripped of American patronage.

Meanwhile, amid this crisis, Türkiye has both resolved the YPG issue and made major strides in resolving the F-35 dispute. New defense industry agreements and initiatives will ensure Türkiye is advantageously positioned when this crisis eventually subsides. For we do not know whether Europe, once it finally charts its course, will include Türkiye within its threat matrix. The measures we implement and the binding agreements we forge today will allow us to see tomorrow more clearly. In the meantime, NATO will continue to roll out minor patches to sustain its existence. It is too early for 3.0; versions 2.9.1 and 2.9.2 are still on the way.

Dr. Ahmed Moustafa, Director & Founder, Asia Center for Studies & Translation, Egypt

Whenever U.S. administrations speak of the “military option” against Iran, public attention tends to focus on combat capabilities, advanced weapons systems, and alliance structures. Yet economists and energy analysts argue that the more pressing question is no longer whether the United States can wage another war, but rather whether the global economy can afford one.

After years of persistent inflation, supply chain disruptions, the war in Ukraine, and mounting public debt across advanced economies, the economic environment surrounding any large-scale confrontation with Iran differs fundamentally from that of previous Gulf conflicts.

Analysts increasingly contend that modern warfare is measured not only by the number of aircraft carriers, fighter jets, or precision-guided missiles deployed, but also by a nation’s capacity to finance prolonged military operations, secure reliable energy supplies, and preserve domestic political and economic stability.

The Strait of Hormuz: The World’s Strategic Chokepoint

The Strait of Hormuz remains one of the world’s most strategically significant maritime corridors, carrying a substantial share of global oil and liquefied natural gas exports from the Gulf.

Energy experts warn that even a temporary disruption to shipping through the Strait could immediately affect crude oil prices, maritime insurance premiums, freight costs, and ultimately food prices, inflation, and electricity markets across the globe.

Although energy markets possess mechanisms to absorb short-term disruptions, analysts caution that a prolonged interruption would place considerable pressure on energy-importing economies and increase uncertainty across global financial markets.

Are Strategic Oil Reserves Enough?

The United States and several industrialized nations maintain strategic petroleum reserves designed to cushion short-term supply disruptions during major crises.

However, energy specialists note that rebuilding these reserves following their use in recent years requires both time and substantial financial resources. More importantly, they argue that strategic reserves are intended to mitigate temporary shocks rather than replace sustained commercial oil supplies during an extended geopolitical crisis.

Economists therefore caution against viewing emergency stockpiles as a long-term substitute for stable global energy flows.

The Price Tag of War

According to estimates published by several U.S. research institutions, a large-scale military confrontation could cost anywhere from tens to hundreds of billions of dollars, depending on the duration and scope of military operations.

The financial burden extends far beyond direct defense expenditures. It could include:

Higher global energy prices.

Rising shipping and maritime insurance costs.

Disruptions to international trade.

Declining business investment.

Increased inflationary pressures.

Higher government borrowing and debt-servicing costs.

Economists argue that these cumulative effects would ultimately be felt by consumers on both sides of the Atlantic, particularly if the conflict coincided with a broader slowdown in global economic growth.

America’s Domestic Political Calculus

The political landscape in Washington appears far less unified today regarding another major overseas military engagement.

Congress continues to debate the constitutional limits of presidential war powers, while a growing number of lawmakers advocate stronger congressional oversight before authorizing prolonged military operations.

Meanwhile, many segments of the American public have become increasingly sensitive to the economic costs of foreign interventions, particularly amid persistent inflation, elevated household expenses, and concerns over the federal debt.

Political analysts suggest that any prolonged conflict could quickly evolve into a defining domestic political issue, regardless of which party controls the White House.

NATO Faces a Complex Equation

Within NATO, member states confront widely differing economic and political realities.

Although most allies have significantly increased defense spending in recent years, they continue to grapple with sluggish economic growth, elevated energy costs, inflationary pressures, demographic challenges, and the substantial investments required for the energy transition.

Analysts believe these structural differences could complicate the Alliance’s ability to sustain a prolonged military commitment should another major regional crisis emerge.

Ukraine and the Reassessment of Military Power

The war in Ukraine has demonstrated that modern conflicts are determined not solely by battlefield superiority but also by industrial capacity, manufacturing resilience, logistics, and supply-chain security.

The ability to sustain ammunition production, replace military equipment, and maintain uninterrupted defense supply chains has become as strategically important as technological superiority itself.

Defense experts argue that these lessons are prompting Western governments to reassess their readiness for any future protracted conflict.

The East: Growing Cooperation Amid Strategic Complexity

Meanwhile, recent years have witnessed expanding political and economic cooperation among Iran, Russia, and China, alongside varying forms of engagement with North Korea.

Analysts caution, however, that these relationships should not necessarily be viewed as a formal military alliance. Rather, they reflect converging strategic interests in selected economic, diplomatic, and security domains, particularly in response to Western sanctions.

Sanctions have also encouraged several of these countries to expand trade using national currencies while deepening cooperation in energy, infrastructure, advanced technology, and financial systems.

Economics and Technology: The New Strategic Battleground

Many experts argue that today’s competition between East and West extends well beyond conventional military power.

Artificial intelligence, semiconductor manufacturing, critical minerals, supply-chain resilience, cybersecurity, and technological innovation have emerged as central pillars shaping the future global balance of power.

While the United States and its allies seek to preserve their technological leadership, China and its partners continue investing heavily in indigenous innovation and reducing dependence on Western technologies.

Is There Any Winner?

Most economists agree that a major military confrontation in the Gulf would impose significant costs on all parties, albeit unevenly.

Higher oil prices could generate short-term gains for some energy exporters, yet they would simultaneously weigh on global growth, dampen investment, and increase inflationary pressures across major economies.

Financial markets could also experience heightened volatility as investors seek safe-haven assets amid growing geopolitical uncertainty.

Conclusion

Current economic and geopolitical indicators suggest that any large-scale military confrontation with Iran would carry risks extending far beyond the battlefield itself.

The central strategic question is therefore not merely which side possesses greater military capabilities, but which can sustain the economic, political, and strategic costs of a prolonged conflict.

At a time when the international system is undergoing profound transformation—and when competition over technology, energy, industrial capacity, and economic resilience is intensifying—many analysts argue that effective crisis management and de-escalation may ultimately prove far less costly than testing the limits of military power in one of the world’s most strategically sensitive regions.

Reference:

• U.S. Energy Information Administration (EIA) – World Oil Transit Chokepoints.
• International Energy Agency (IEA) – Oil Market Report.
• Congressional Research Service (CRS) – War Powers Resolution.
• Brown University – Costs of War Project.
• International Monetary Fund (IMF) – World Economic Outlook.
• Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) – Military Expenditure Database.
• International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS) – The Military Balance.
• NATO – Defence Expenditure of NATO Countries.
• World Bank – Global Economic Prospects.
• OECD – Economic Outlook

Dr. Ahmed Moustafa Director & Founder, Asia Center for Studies & Translation, Egypt

Twenty-two years after Istanbul hosted NATO’s leaders in 2004, the Alliance has returned to Turkish soil, this time to the Beştepe Presidential Complex in Ankara, for a summit that arrives not as ceremony but as reckoning. The 36th NATO Summit, convened July 7–8, unfolds against a backdrop few of its architects in 2004 could have imagined: a Ukraine war grinding into its fifth year, a Middle East still smoldering from a direct US-Israel war with Iran, an American president openly questioning the value of the Alliance he is attending, and a host nation, Türkiye, that has quietly become indispensable to almost every crisis on NATO’s agenda.

Türkiye’s Moment: From Junior Partner to Power Broker

Hosting a NATO summit has always been a statement of strategic weight. But Ankara 2026 is different in kind. Türkiye arrives not merely as host but as leverage. Its defense-industrial base — anchored by companies like ASELSAN, which has attracted reported interest from global capital including BlackRock, with US Ambassador Tom Barrack said to be facilitating contacts and BlackRock’s Larry Fink having met President Erdoğan earlier this year — has positioned Türkiye as a rising node in NATO’s push for defense-industrial self-sufficiency. The Ankara Summit’s dedicated Defence Industry Forum, held alongside the political summit, underscores this: Türkiye is no longer simply a NATO member on the alliance’s southeastern flank but a manufacturing and innovation hub the Alliance now needs.

This is Erdoğan’s leverage point. As European allies scramble to meet the 5% GDP defense-spending pledge agreed last year, with 3.5% earmarked for core defense and 1.5% for resilience and infrastructure, Türkiye has positioned Ankara as a “delivery checkpoint” — a moment to translate commitments into contracts, and contracts into Turkish industrial gain. Analysts covering the summit have openly asked whether the gathering represents collective security or, in effect, the largest commercial handshake in Turkish defense history.

The Russia-China Question: Hedging in Plain Sight

Türkiye’s balancing act is not new, but it has rarely been more visible. Even as Ankara hosts NATO’s leaders, Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan met his Russian counterpart in Moscow only weeks earlier, part of a pattern of parallel engagement that Ankara has never fully abandoned since the Ukraine war began. Türkiye continues to occupy a unique lane inside NATO: a member state that supplies Kyiv with Bayraktar drones while keeping Black Sea diplomatic channels to Moscow open, and one that has deepened economic and energy ties with both Russia and China without triggering the kind of alliance discipline applied to smaller members. For Ankara, NATO membership and multi-alignment with Moscow and Beijing are not contradictions to be resolved but assets to be managed simultaneously — a posture that gives Turkish diplomats outsized room to maneuver at exactly the summit meant to reaffirm collective unity.

Ukraine: Sustaining a War Without an End

The degraded state of the Ukraine war looms over every session in Ankara. NATO is expected to affirm a pledge of roughly €70 billion in military equipment, assistance, and training for Ukraine in 2026, with allies committing to sustain at least equivalent levels into 2027. Yet the summit convenes amid reports that Italy has been resisting parts of the Ukraine funding language in the draft communiqué, exposing cracks in what NATO officials insist remains a “unity summit.” President Trump is scheduled to meet Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy on the sidelines, following recent phone calls in which Trump suggested renewed prospects for a negotiated peace — even as fighting continues largely unabated and Zelenskyy has publicly flagged what he considers European inaction.

Ankara’s Trade-Off Amid the US-NATO Rift Over Iran

The most consequential subtext of this summit may be the still-raw rupture between Washington and its allies over the Strait of Hormuz. Since the US-Israel war against Iran erupted in late February — triggered by the killing of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei — Iran’s closure and periodic re-closure of Hormuz has convulsed global energy markets. When Trump called on NATO, China, Japan and South Korea to help secure the strait militarily in March, every ally declined; Germany’s defense minister flatly stated it was not Europe’s war. Trump responded by calling NATO’s refusal a “very foolish mistake” and describing the Alliance, without American backing, as a “paper tiger.”

That rift has not healed; it has merely gone quiet enough to allow a summit to proceed. A ceasefire and blockade-lifting memorandum signed in June eased the crisis, but Iran has since signaled it will impose transit fees on Hormuz shipping, with “special treatment” reportedly reserved for friendlier states — a policy Washington rejects as unworkable for any lasting deal. Strait security is now formally on this week’s NATO agenda, even though the underlying disagreement over burden-sharing on Iran was never resolved, only overtaken by events. This is the trade-off Turkish politicians are positioned to exploit: Ankara can offer itself as an indispensable interlocutor — bridging Washington’s frustration with European reluctance — while extracting defense-procurement access and diplomatic capital in return, precisely the kind of transactional leverage Erdoğan has cultivated throughout the crisis.

The Middle East Overhang: Syria, Lebanon, and a Widening Israel Rift

Türkiye’s regional posture will shape the summit’s Middle East undertone as much as any formal session. President Trump is set to hold a separate bilateral meeting in Ankara with Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa, the former rebel commander now leading Damascus. The meeting follows Trump’s repeated suggestion — first floated at the G7 — that Syrian forces could take on Hezbollah in Lebanon more effectively than Israel, a proposal al-Sharaa has consistently declined, insisting Damascus seeks only economic channels with Beirut, not a military role reminiscent of Syria’s decades-long occupation of Lebanon. The subtext is unmistakable: Washington is testing whether it can redirect regional security burdens away from an Israeli campaign in Lebanon that has produced significant civilian casualties, toward a Syrian government still consolidating power after Assad’s fall — a maneuver that would simultaneously ease pressure on Israel and open a new channel of US engagement with post-Assad Syria, independent of Iran.

Layered atop this is an open diplomatic rupture between Ankara and Jerusalem. Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan, in a CNN Türk interview days before the summit, described Israel’s policies and mindset as “a burden that humanity can no longer bear” and called for international sanctions, accusing Israel of perpetrating mass killing in Gaza. Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Sa’ar branded the remarks “textbook incitement to genocide,” a charge Germany’s foreign minister also distanced himself from as unacceptable rhetoric, while President Isaac Herzog denounced the comments as antisemitic. Erdoğan, for his part, dismissed Israeli criticism as an attempt to deflect from its own conduct in Gaza. That this exchange erupted just as NATO’s Israeli-aligned members prepare to sit alongside Türkiye’s delegation adds a genuinely awkward undercurrent to an Alliance summit ostensibly focused on Russia and defense spending — and gives Ankara another card to play: positioning itself as the Muslim world’s most vocal NATO-member critic of Israel, a role with real currency across the Arab and Islamic world even as it strains Türkiye’s Western alliances.

The Palestinian Case and Arab Coordination

For Cairo, Islamabad, Doha, and Riyadh, the Ankara summit is being watched less for its Ukraine communiqué than for what it signals about regional alignment on Gaza and the Palestinian file. Egypt, Qatar, Pakistan, and Saudi Arabia have each played mediating or coordinating roles throughout the Iran crisis and its regional spillover — Islamabad brokered ceasefire talks during the Hormuz confrontation, while Qatar helped facilitate a Lebanon ceasefire alongside the United States and Iran. That same quartet’s coordination on Gaza reconstruction, Palestinian statehood diplomacy, and pressure against further escalation in Lebanon is likely to intensify in the summit’s aftermath, particularly if Fidan’s confrontational posture toward Israel hardens into a broader Turkish push to rally Muslim-majority states — inside and outside NATO — around a unified Palestinian position. Whether Ankara’s rhetoric translates into coordinated Arab-Turkish diplomatic action, or remains a unilateral Turkish gesture aimed at domestic and regional audiences, will be one of the more consequential open questions to emerge from a summit meant, on paper, to be about Russia and the Atlantic alliance — and that has become, in practice, a referendum on how far Türkiye’s ambitions now extend.

This analysis draws on reporting from NATO’s official summit documentation, Reuters, the Congressional Research Service, The National, The Jerusalem Post, Al Arabiya, and other outlets covering the Ankara Summit as of July 7, 2026.