The world is heading back to the ballot box. From the final months of 2026 through the first half of 2027, voters across a remarkable range of countries, from Brazil and Israel to the United States, France, Serbia, Greece and Spain, will make choices that could reshape their domestic politics. Some leaders will survive. Others will leave the stage. New figures will emerge, while familiar political movements may return in new forms. Yet behind all these elections lies a story bigger than any individual leader.
The way the world works is changing. The unipolar order that emerged after the end of the Cold War, centered overwhelmingly on the U.S., no longer looks as uncontested as it once did. China is rising. Russia is engaged in an open geopolitical confrontation with the West. India is charting an increasingly independent course. Gulf states are questioning the wisdom of relying almost exclusively on Washington for their security. Brazil and other emerging powers are seeking greater room to maneuver between competing centers of power.
Increasingly, countries appear to be following a simple calculation: Work with the West, but do not become entirely dependent on it. Trade with China, but do not necessarily enter Beijing’s camp. Keep channels open with Russia without having to align with Moscow. In other words, protect your national interests, preserve room for maneuver and build strategic autonomy.
This is remarkably close to the foreign policy approach Türkiye has advocated for years. Ankara has sought to maintain its relationship with Washington while keeping channels open with Moscow. It remains a NATO member while simultaneously expanding its ties with Asia and the Gulf.
What was once frequently viewed as an unusual balancing act increasingly resembles the kind of multidirectional diplomacy that a growing number of middle powers are attempting to pursue. Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney’s interest in expanding trade, energy and defense cooperation with Türkiye is one recent example.
The point is no longer simply that Türkiye is diversifying its relationships. The world itself is diversifying.
Perhaps nowhere is this transformation more visible than in the debate over the international system itself.
For years, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has criticized the structure of the United Nations Security Council, encapsulating his argument in one of his most recognizable foreign policy slogans: “The world is bigger than five.”
When Ankara first began advancing this argument, it was often regarded as a particularly assertive Turkish challenge to the established international order. Today, questions about the representativeness of the U.N. system and the veto power of the five permanent members extend far beyond Türkiye.
The reason is straightforward. As the economic and political center of gravity shifts, it is becoming increasingly difficult to argue that institutions built around the distribution of power in 1945 adequately represent the realities of the 21st century.
Brazil provides an interesting example. Its president, Lula da Silva, has repeatedly insisted that Brazil is not the backyard of any great power. Brazil has deepened its economic relationship with China, maintained extensive ties with Europe and sought greater influence through BRICS.
Türkiye and Brazil certainly do not pursue identical foreign policies. But there is a common instinct: Build your own regional weight and manage competition among the great powers according to your own national interests.
A decade ago, such an approach appeared more exceptional. Today, versions of it can be seen from India and the Gulf to Türkiye and Brazil.
For Türkiye, few upcoming elections will be watched as closely as Israel’s.
One of Ankara’s central arguments on the Middle East has remained remarkably consistent: There can be no lasting peace or stability in the region without resolving the Palestinian question. The war in Gaza has brought that argument back to the center of international politics.
Israel can inflict severe military damage on Hamas. It can conduct operations against other regional actors. It can revise its security doctrine and strengthen its military deterrence. But none of those measures, on their own, make the Palestinian question disappear. If anything, Palestine has returned to the center of global diplomacy.
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is once again campaigning heavily on security. At the same time, Israel faces growing international pressure, while the debate over recognition of Palestinian statehood has expanded considerably.
A new Israeli government that creates greater space for a political settlement in Gaza and for regional diplomacy could also create more room for the diplomatic approach Ankara has long advocated.
But even if Netanyahu leaves office, the Palestinian question will remain. It predates Netanyahu, and will outlast any single Israeli government.
An even more consequential transformation for Türkiye may be unfolding in the Gulf.
Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates and Qatar are increasingly confronting a question that would once have seemed almost unthinkable: Will the U.S. always protect us?
That question matters because for decades, the security architecture of the Gulf rested heavily on American military power.
Today, Gulf states are diversifying. They trade extensively with China. They maintain dialogue with Russia. They are expanding defense cooperation with Türkiye. Discussions about new security arrangements involving Türkiye, Pakistan and Gulf countries are part of this broader search for alternatives.
For Ankara, this creates significant strategic space. Türkiye is a member of NATO. But it can also talk to Iran. It has developed increasingly close relationships with Gulf capitals. It has substantial influence in Syria. And it possesses a large and rapidly developing domestic defense industry.
This is why the traditional description of Türkiye as a “bridge between East and West” may no longer be sufficient. Ankara increasingly seeks to be more than a bridge between other powers. It wants to become one of the actors shaping the regional security architecture itself.
The same diplomatic instinct is visible in the Balkans. Serbia’s elections therefore matter to Türkiye.
Ankara has maintained its historic relationship with Bosnia-Herzegovina while developing increasingly strong ties with Belgrade. It has built a close relationship with Kosovo without cutting off dialogue with Serbia. It has also expanded relations with Albania and North Macedonia.
Behind this lies one of the defining features of Türkiye’s recent regional diplomacy: The ability to talk simultaneously to actors who cannot easily talk to one another. If Serbia’s balance between the European Union, Russia and China changes in the post-Vucic period, new risks, but also new diplomatic opportunities, could emerge for Ankara. Türkiye’s role may become particularly relevant on questions involving Bosnia and Kosovo.
Another election with potentially significant consequences will take place in France in 2027. During Emmanuel Macron’s presidency, relations between Ankara and Paris have experienced serious tensions, from Libya and the Eastern Mediterranean to NATO and Africa.
But whoever enters the Elysee Palace after Macron will encounter a Türkiye that is different from the one France dealt with only a few years ago.
The war in Ukraine has fundamentally altered Europe’s security calculations. Türkiye’s importance has increased in areas ranging from Black Sea security and the defense industry to drones, Syria, migration, energy corridors and the broader debate over European defense.
As Europe discusses taking greater responsibility for its own security, ignoring Türkiye, a major NATO military power with a rapidly expanding defense industry, becomes increasingly difficult.
A future French government may therefore find that conducting relations with Ankara primarily through ideological confrontation carries a greater strategic cost than it once did. Geopolitics has a habit of forcing ideology to make room for pragmatism.
The result of Greece’s next election will also be closely watched in Ankara.
Whether Kyriakos Mitsotakis remains in power matters. But the fundamental disputes between Türkiye and Greece – the Aegean, the continental shelf, airspace, Cyprus and the Eastern Mediterranean – will not disappear with a change of government. They are older than the governments managing them. What is changing is the world around them.
So, are Türkiye’s arguments gaining ground? That is ultimately the central question. And the answer should be sought not in slogans, but in the structural changes taking place around us.
Three developments stand out.
First, the world is becoming increasingly multipolar. The U.S. remains one of the most powerful actors in the international system. But Washington can no longer determine the outcome of every regional crisis on its own.
Second, the bargaining power of middle powers is increasing. Countries such as Türkiye, India, Brazil and Saudi Arabia are attempting to create greater strategic space between the major powers.
Third, defense capability has once again become one of the foundations of diplomatic influence.
This is where Türkiye’s long-term investment in its domestic defense industry becomes particularly relevant. From unmanned aerial systems and warships to missiles and electronic warfare, Türkiye’s expanding domestic defense capacity is not merely a military asset. It is also diplomatic leverage. And this may be the real story for Türkiye in the years ahead.
Netanyahu may stay or go. France may enter an entirely different political era after Macron. The Vucic era in Serbia may end or continue in another form.
But something bigger than all these individual leaders is taking place. The single-center world is weakening. The bargaining power of regional powers is increasing. Perhaps, then, it is time to reverse the question.
Is Türkiye adapting its arguments to a changing world, or is the world moving closer to some of the realities Türkiye has been describing for years?
Ankara has long argued that the international system cannot be left to the decisions of five permanent members of the U.N. Security Council. It has warned against excessive dependence on a single center of power. It has treated independence in the defense industry as a strategic necessity. And it has argued that regional countries should have a greater say in resolving regional problems.
Look around today.
Europe is debating how to strengthen its own defense. The Gulf is diversifying its security relationships. Brazil and India are carving out space between Washington and Beijing. The structure of the U.N. is being questioned more loudly. And defense industries have once again become powerful instruments of diplomacy.
Türkiye sits at the intersection of many of these trends. It is a NATO member, yet it talks to Russia. It belongs to the Western alliance, yet it is expanding its ties with China and Asia. It is deepening relations with the Gulf while maintaining dialogue with Iran. It supports Ukraine while keeping diplomatic channels with Moscow open. It advocates Palestinian statehood while seeking to remain an active player in regional diplomacy.
There are, of course, risks and limits to such a balancing strategy.
Strategic autonomy cannot survive on rhetoric alone. It has to be supported by economic strength, technological capacity, energy security, credible institutions and military deterrence. But the direction of travel is becoming increasingly clear.
The world is moving away from a system dominated by a single center of power toward a more fragmented order with multiple centers of influence.
And some of the ideas Türkiye has voiced for years are now being expressed in different words, in capitals around the world: More independent defense capabilities, more diversified partnerships, greater strategic autonomy, a more representative international system and countries seeking a greater say in the affairs of their own regions.
That is why the coming elections will tell us more than who the next presidents and prime ministers will be. They will offer clues about what kind of world is taking shape.
For Türkiye, therefore, the central question is no longer simply whether it should look East or West. Even the old question, “Which side will Türkiye choose?” is becoming increasingly inadequate.
The real question is this: Will Türkiye merely search for a place in the emerging balance of power, or can it turn the principles it has defended for years into sufficient economic, political and military capacity to help shape the rules of the new order? Because the issue is no longer which side Türkiye will join as the world changes. It is how much weight Türkiye will carry in the world that emerges.
