As NATO leaders gather in Ankara on July 7–8 for the 36th summit, the official narrative remains undisputed: facing the threat of Soviet invasion, Türkiye entered the alliance through its heroic trial in Korea, thereby securing its safety. My study of more than one thousand documents from the Diplomatic Archive of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Türkiye—recently opened to researchers—reveals that neither of the two primary pillars supporting this narrative rests on a documentary foundation. First: now-accessible Soviet archives reveal that Moscow never possessed an operational plan to invade Türkiye. Second: Türkiye did not enter NATO by taking refuge under a security umbrella, but by staking the blood of its own sons in the United States’ war in the Far East. And the heaviest, most enduring toll of this bargain was levied on a relationship that Ankara needs most today: China.

UN Turkish Memorial Cemetery, Busan

There Was No Invasion Plan: There Was Fear, Error, and Opportunism

First, let us correct the record on the Soviet question. The demands conveyed by Molotov to Ambassador Selim Sarper in June 1945—a military base on the Straits, and the retrocession of Kars and Ardahan—were real, and they represented a historic blunder of Soviet diplomacy; there is no defending them. Yet, the Soviet archives opened after 1990, along with Jamil Hasanli’s archival reconstructions in Azerbaijan, document a critical truth: Moscow never drafted an operational plan to seize Kars and Ardahan; the 1945 demands were a maximalist opening gambit, one which even the Kremlin itself saw little prospect of being accepted. Stalin’s retreat during the Straits Crisis of August 1946 was likewise the product of cautious calculation rather than military intent. These same archives reveal how reluctant Stalin was even in Korea: he systematically rejected Kim Il-sung’s requests to launch an attack throughout 1949, and when he finally gave his approval in January 1950, he did so on the strict condition that no major risks would be taken.

Ankara’s fear was genuine—a fear that had accumulated since the Molotov-Ribbentrop negotiations of 1939 and can be consistently traced through archival documents; to claim that the public was deceived by a manufactured threat narrative would be a disservice to the historical record. But the sincerity of that fear does not mean the response to it was wise. Washington turned the anxiety spawned by this egregious Soviet diplomatic error into the mortar for its own bloc architecture: it excluded Türkiye from NATO in 1949, and then set the price for cracking open the door. That price was Korea.

UN Turkish Memorial Cemetery, Busan

An Entrance Fee Paid in Blood

The archives document beyond a shadow of doubt that the Korean decision was not an act of UN idealism, but a clear trade-off. Bound by no treaty obligations, Ankara decided on July 22, 1950—after deliberations lasting less than a single day—to dispatch a brigade of 4,500 troops to the front under US command. Six days later, UN Permanent Representative Sarper publicly voiced the demand for entry into the Atlantic Pact; the minutes of his meeting with Secretary-General Trygve Lie explicitly articulate this expectation of reciprocity. As the documents demonstrate, the structural decision to admit Türkiye into the Atlantic system was effectively communicated to Ankara on November 1, 1950—that is, before the Battle of Kunu-ri, but well after Turkish blood had been placed on the bargaining table. The Turkish soldier—the Mehmetçik—was made to fight against the forces of a nation that posed no threat to Türkiye, on a peninsula where Türkiye had no national interests, all for the bloc consolidation of a superpower. To call this a success story is to write a panegyric not to those who shed their blood, but to those who sent them to shed it.

The Core of the Cost: China

The least discussed and most permanent consequence of this trade-off is the rupture with China—and herein lies the true tragedy of the story. For the two peoples pitted against one another were the standard-bearers of the twentieth century’s two great anti-imperialist struggles. As my own research demonstrates, the Chinese press of the 1920s and 30s—most notably the Shenbao—closely followed Mustafa Kemal’s Türkiye as the birthplace of the first victorious war of national liberation against imperialism, viewing Kemalist modernization as a source of inspiration for their own national awakening. A quarter of a century later, the children of these two peoples were firing bullets at each other at Kunu-ri and Kumyangjang-ni—on a front drawn by Washington that served the historical interests of neither.

Ankara’s anti-China engagement was not confined to the battlefield. While Britain recognized the People’s Republic of China in January 1950, Türkiye remained anchored in the American-led non-recognition camp. In February 1951, Türkiye was at the forefront of supporting the UN resolution declaring China an “aggressor”; in an environment where even Britain and the Dominions sought moderating formulas, Ankara aligned itself with the harshest stance, driven by a reflex—plainly legible in archival correspondence—to “appear on the side of the majority.” When a strategic embargo was being prepared against China in May 1951, Türkiye chaired the relevant committee. Even the “Chinese Ambassador” whom Foreign Minister Köprülü received in Ankara on the final day of December 1950 represented Taipei, not Beijing. The result: while bridges were burned with Soviet Russia, which had been among the first to extend a hand of friendship to Ankara during the War of Independence, relations with China—the other great nation of anti-imperialist struggle—were frozen before they could even begin. Türkiye would not recognize the People’s Republic of China until 1971. As a researcher living in China, I must add this: the Korean War—known in the Chinese memory as the “War to Resist America and Aid Korea”—is an integral part of China’s founding epic, and Türkiye’s role in that war is far more vivid in the historical memory of our Chinese interlocutors than we tend to assume.

The Other Legacy of the Same Alignment: The Xinjiang File

Another enduring consequence of this bloc choice was gestated during those very years. With the establishment of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, political figures who departed Xinjiang—led by Isa Yusuf Alptekin, the former secretary-general of the provincial government, and Mehmet Emin Buğra, a former provincial administrator—turned their gaze toward Türkiye. In 1952, the Ankara government issued a decree admitting thousands of Xinjiang emigrants arriving via Kashmir, and over the subsequent decades, Istanbul became the global epicenter of this diaspora. The Turkish public’s embrace of these people was rooted in a genuine sense of kinship, a sentiment that is not in itself open to criticism. What must be critiqued, however, is the coopting of this humanitarian issue into the bloc architecture of the Cold War: the diaspora movement was politicized within the ecosystem of the American-guided anti-communist networks of the era, becoming institutionalized as part of Türkiye’s anti-China alignment. Thus, an inherently legitimate bond of kinship was transformed into an instrument of great-power rivalry—giving rise to the most sensitive file between Ankara and Beijing today: an issue that Beijing interprets as a matter of territorial integrity, while Türkiye perceives it through the lens of kinship and humanitarian concern, making it the area where the two capitals find it hardest to understand one another. Contrary to popular belief, the roots of this file do not lie in the 1990s, but extend back to those three years when NATO membership was purchased with blood. Unless Türkiye learns to approach this issue not as a leverage point between its own conscience and its relations with China, but as a historical legacy that the two nations must discuss directly and honestly, it will remain vulnerable to the instrumentalization of this file by third parties.

1953: The Pretext Evaporates, the Dependency Remains

The final act of the story is the one least favored by the official narrative. Stalin died on March 5, 1953. On May 30, 1953, the Soviet government, in an official note to Türkiye, explicitly renounced its claims on Kars and Ardahan, as well as its demands for a revision of the Straits regime; it acknowledged that Soviet security could be ensured under conditions compatible with Türkiye’s sovereignty. In later years, Moscow would go even further through Khrushchev, admitting that the Stalin-era demands were a mistake and that this very error had driven Türkiye into the American alliance. In other words, the entire rationale for NATO membership was retracted in writing by its very source, a mere fifteen months after Türkiye joined. Yet membership was not retracted; the blood had already been spilled, the architecture of dependency had already been constructed, and the door to China had already been shut. The threat was temporary; the commitments, the bases, and the closed doors became permanent.

The Real Question for the Summit

The question that will not be asked in the Ankara summit hall, but which urgently demands an answer, is this: as a nation celebrates the seventy-fifth anniversary of a membership purchased by shedding blood on a front entirely divorced from its own historical struggle, against an invasion plan that never existed, when will it take stock of the doors that very membership closed in Asia? If Türkiye is today discussing an agenda that ranges from trade with China to the Middle Corridor, it is in fact attempting to repair a relationship that was sacrificed in 1950–52 for the account of a superpower. As the world is once again dragged into bloc politics, the lesson of history is clear: security acquired by offering blood to fuel the wars of great powers is not security at all, but a dependency whose price is paid across generations. For those who remember that anti-imperialism was the founding experience of this land, the most meaningful agenda for the summit should not be the expansion of NATO, but Türkiye’s resolve to forge relations on the basis of equality with all quarters of its own geography—including China.

As anticipated, the general elections held in Armenia on June 7 resulted in a victory for the Civil Contract Party, led by Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan, which secured approximately half of the vote. Equally expectedly, despite this victory, the party fell short of a constitutional (two-thirds) majority. This political landscape is poised to yield significant ramifications, not only for Armenia’s domestic politics but also for regional dynamics and the overarching great power competition in the Caucasus.

Why so?

Let us examine the reasons point by point:

First, despite suffering a crushing military, political, and diplomatic defeat over Karabakh—a conflict widely recognized as Azerbaijan’s just and legitimate cause—Pashinyan retained robust public support. In the wake of this defeat, his vision of a “real Armenia” rather than an “imaginary” one, combined with his intention to swiftly normalize relations with Azerbaijan and Türkiye, and his promises of economic revitalization and prosperity, clearly resonated with the electorate.

Second, upon assuming office, Pashinyan underestimated Russia’s geopolitical weight in the region, placing excessive trust in the West, specifically US and European imperialism. Observing this, Russian President Vladimir Putin chose not to chastise Pashinyan directly; instead, by refusing to restrain Azerbaijan or prevent Baku from delivering a decisive blow to Yerevan, he forced Pashinyan to confront geopolitical realities.

Third, Russia maintains a formidable presence within Armenia’s domestic politics, economy, and security apparatus, compounded by the vast Armenian diaspora residing in Russia. It is impossible for Pashinyan to dismantle this entrenched reality overnight. For a country of roughly three million people, spanning a mere 30,000 square kilometers, and burdened with a fragile economy, the structural dependency is stark: Armenia sends 90 percent of its exports to Russia, relies entirely on Russian natural gas (secured at a fraction of the price paid by European nations), and has an estimated two million citizens living in Russia. Consequently, Pashinyan cannot afford to escalate tensions with Moscow, even if he were inclined to do so. This explains why, prior to the elections, he announced that his first state visit upon victory would be to Moscow, with Brussels to follow. Despite receiving significant backing from the United States and Europe, his designation of Moscow—which actively supported his domestic opposition—as his premier foreign destination demonstrates that he has, to some extent, internalized the lessons of his early leadership failures since 2018.

Fourth, while Armenia remains eager to cultivate the closest possible relations with NATO and harbors aspirations for European Union membership, Russia has countered this ambition by making it clear that Armenia cannot simultaneously belong to both the Eurasian Economic Union (EAEU) and the EU, forcing a choice between the two. Given Armenia’s geographic isolation, trade structures, energy dependence, and Russia’s pervasive influence over Yerevan, the country is in no position to easily abandon the Eurasian Economic Union.

Fifth, Pashinyan believes that a rapid normalization of relations with Türkiye and Azerbaijan will dismantle the Armenian diaspora’s leverage over Armenia’s domestic and, in particular, foreign policy. In doing so, he hopes to place Yerevan’s relations with Western nations on a healthier, more pragmatic footing.

Sixth, Armenia’s relations with Georgia are also fraught, overshadowed by historical mistrust and remaining tepid at best. Consequently, while Armenia struggles with varying degrees of tension and complex issues with Türkiye, Azerbaijan, Russia, and Georgia, it possesses only one neighbor with whom it shares amicable ties: Iran, with which it shares a brief 44-kilometer border. Yet, preoccupied with its own severe domestic and international crises, Tehran is currently unable to offer much meaningful attention or support to Yerevan, despite years of historical alignment.

Ultimately, this new era in Armenian politics carries profound implications, not merely for the nation itself, but for the wider region and the grand strategy of the major powers—specifically the geopolitical rivalry between the United States and Russia in the Caucasus.

The BRICS Foreign Ministers’ Meeting, held in the Indian capital of New Delhi on May 15, 2026, carries a significance that extends far beyond the confines of routine diplomacy. This gathering culminated in the signing of one of the most comprehensive political documents to date, outlining the vision of the world order that BRICS envisions for 2026. Reading between the lines, the document reveals not merely the proceedings of a ministerial summit, but the contours of a comprehensive alternative vision challenging the Western-centric international system. Indeed, this text must be read as a political manifesto of the shifting balances of power, the accelerating global struggle for influence, and the emerging new world order of recent years.

The overarching theme dominating the entire document is “The Rise of the Global South.” BRICS members contend that the current international order is unjust, insufficiently representative, and fails to reflect the interests of developing nations. Consequently, they emphasize the urgent need to restructure foundational institutions such as the UN, IMF, World Bank, and the World Trade Organization (WTO). In doing so, BRICS now positions itself as the voice of the non-Western world. Today, the global arena is traversing an era in which the post-World War II international system has plunged into a profound crisis of legitimacy and representation. Developments such as the wars in Ukraine, Iran, and Lebanon, the Gaza crisis, global trade wars, the weaponization of sanctions, energy security challenges, and technological competition demonstrate that the current system struggles to mirror contemporary global realities. It is precisely from this premise that the BRICS nations operate, sending a clear message to the world through the New Delhi Outcome Document: “The status quo is no longer sustainable.”

One of the most striking aspects of the document is how clearly it demonstrates that BRICS no longer views itself as a mere platform for economic cooperation. Having long focused primarily on economic development, trade, and finance since its inception, BRICS has now reached a far more ambitious posture. In the New Delhi Outcome Document, issues of security, geopolitical crises, artificial intelligence, cybersecurity, climate policies, energy transition, and international governance reforms occupy a place as central as economics. This indicates that BRICS’s ambition to become a foundational actor in global politics is steadily gaining traction. Reading between the lines, the strongest emphasis emerges on the concept of a “multipolar world.” The core approach of BRICS is animated by the premise that the Western-centric, largely US-led international order, which took shape over the decades following the end of the Cold War, is no longer the sole alternative. Throughout the declaration, the repeated use of phrases like “more just,” “more representative,” “more democratic,” and “more inclusive” international system constitutes a direct critique of the current distribution of global power.

The sections concerning the reform of the United Nations Security Council are particularly critical. Indeed, the call for UN reform stands out as one of the most pivotal political segments of the document. BRICS nations explicitly state that the current structure fails to reflect contemporary realities. They contend that Africa, Latin America, and emerging Asian powers are underrepresented in decision-making mechanisms. What is even more remarkable is that China and Russia have reaffirmed their support for India and Brazil to assume greater roles within the Security Council. This state of affairs reveals, first and foremost, the elevation of India and Brazil to global-power status. Secondly, it demonstrates an increasing political cohesion within BRICS. Finally, it illustrates a fundamental questioning of the post-WWII international order.

Another prominent element in the document is the sharp critique of the sanctions policies pursued by the United States and the West. The intensive use of economic sanctions as a foreign policy tool in recent years has engendered collective discomfort among BRICS nations. The text emphasizes that unilateral sanctions violate international law and severely hamper the economic development of developing nations. Although no countries are named directly, this formulation can be read as a potent critique targeted at measures such as US sanctions on Iran, Russia, and Venezuela, as well as the embargo on Cuba. This approach is a continuation of BRICS’s long-standing critique regarding the “weaponization of economics.” Indeed, one of the most strategic segments of the declaration emerges here. For BRICS is no longer merely criticizing the existing financial architecture; it is actively endeavoring to construct alternative mechanisms. Initiatives such as cross-border payment systems, trade in local currencies, financial integration, and the strengthening of the New Development Bank can be read as harbingers of a long-term quest to forge an alternative to the dollar-centric global economic structure. While it is premature to speak of a system capable of fully displacing the dollar, the steps taken by BRICS are beginning to demonstrate that the current financial order is not the only option.

Another major political segment of the New Delhi Document concerns the Gaza and Palestine issue. Here, we witness one of the strongest stances BRICS has ever taken on the matter. The document employs highly resolute language regarding Gaza and Palestine, with a notable emphasis on an independent Palestinian state based on the 1967 borders. Furthermore, South Africa’s legal action against Israel and the rulings of the International Court of Justice are directly recalled in the text. In the face of recent offensives and the unfolding humanitarian crisis, BRICS nations have displayed one of their clearest collective stances to date. The call for an immediate ceasefire, the demand for unhindered humanitarian aid delivery, support for Palestinian statehood, and the emphasis on international law stand among the declaration’s most potent political messages. This can be interpreted as an indication of BRICS’s desire to become a more visible and effective political actor in global crises.

On the other hand, the text does not entirely gloss over the internal divergences within BRICS. It openly acknowledges that members hold differing views, particularly on Middle Eastern issues. This is significant because today’s BRICS is no longer a bloc comprised solely of Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa. With the integration of new members such as Iran, the United Arab Emirates, Egypt, Ethiopia, and Indonesia, it has evolved into a far more complex geopolitical entity. Interestingly, the document explicitly notes that rather than a unified stance, differing perspectives exist on certain issues. Specifically, it is conceded that members hold divergent positions on matters concerning Iran, the Gulf states, and Yemen. Despite these differences, the bloc’s ability to establish common ground demonstrates an expansion of BRICS’s diplomatic capacity. Viewed from this perspective, the New Delhi process also represents a significant diplomatic triumph for India. While the recent wave of expansion—bringing in Iran, the UAE, Egypt, Ethiopia, and Indonesia—has enriched the platform’s geopolitical diversity, it has also rendered collective decision-making processes more intricate. Particularly at a juncture where the war in Iran continues, the deep-seated divergences between Iran and the Gulf states led many experts to predict that BRICS would struggle to find common political ground and that the summit would be fraught with severe diplomatic friction. However, despite all these differences, India succeeded in rallying members with diverging interests and priorities around the same platform, proving that BRICS retains its capacity to generate dialogue rather than fracture. In this context, the outcome in New Delhi is not limited merely to the content of the published joint text. The true, striking success lies in the preservation of a diplomatic arena that enabled members—who find themselves directly opposed on certain issues in an extremely sensitive and polarized crisis environment—to compromise on other matters and continue negotiating under the BRICS umbrella.

Furthermore, one of the document’s most critical messages emerges in the realm of technology. The extensive coverage of topics such as artificial intelligence, digital infrastructure, data security, and cybersecurity is no coincidence. Indeed, the global power struggle of the future will be shaped heavily through technological supremacy. BRICS nations clearly demonstrate their awareness of this reality and their intent to act in unison in the technological race. Particularly noteworthy is their quest to develop alternatives to Western-centric norms in artificial intelligence governance. A distinct approach is also observed in energy and climate policies. Instead of the rapid energy transition frequently championed by Western nations, the concept of a “just energy transition” is prioritized. At the heart of this approach lies the conviction that the economic growth needs of developing nations must not be disregarded. BRICS countries advocate for a balance between environmental responsibility and the right to development. This points to a major fault line that will become increasingly pronounced in global climate debates in the coming years.

When all these headings are evaluated together, the resulting picture is remarkably clear: BRICS is no longer merely a platform for safeguarding economic interests. It is a center of power beginning to articulate its own vision of how the international system ought to operate. At the core of this vision lies the objective of greater representation, sovereign equality, deeper multipolarity, and a stronger voice for developing nations in global decision-making processes.

The New Delhi Document, brought to the table at the BRICS Foreign Ministers’ Meeting, is far more than a mere communique; it is one of the landmark texts of the historic transformation unfolding in global politics. As the world rapidly moves away from a unipolar structure, BRICS is emerging as one of the most powerful political and economic vehicles of this transition. Today, many rules of the international system may still be written by the West. Yet, the message rising from New Delhi is clear: far more actors now demand a seat at the table to rewrite those very rules. BRICS is transitioning from an economic club into a political, diplomatic, financial, and technological powerhouse. Its claim to serve as the collective voice and compass of the Global South is strengthening. It pursues a dual strategy: offering an alternative to Western-centric institutions while simultaneously working to transform them. BRICS is not yet establishing institutions to directly replace the UN, IMF, World Bank, or WTO; rather, it is striving to change the rules and the distribution of power within them.

The 2026 New Delhi Document of the Foreign Ministers’ Meeting, hosted by India under its presidency, can be regarded as one of the most comprehensive strategic documents in the twenty-year history of BRICS. The text serves as a political manifesto for an era marked by the sunset of the US- and Western-led unipolar epoch, the demands of rising powers for greater agency, and the accelerating quest of the Global South to establish a permanent weight in the international system.

The essence of the document can be distilled into a single sentence: while BRICS remains a platform that adapts to the rules of the existing international order, it is simultaneously transforming into a global actor that seeks to rewrite them.

Umur Tugay Yücel – Political Scientist & Author of the book “The Decline of American Power and the Rising Powers” (China-Russia-India-Brazil).

X: @umur_tugay