PROFILE: Erdogan, the man who has been waiting seven years for his five "ghost" planes

Nine hundred parts, thousands of jobs

Behind the macroeconomic figures lie less visible faces: the Turkish engineers and workers who manufactured more than 900 essential components for the F-35, including fuselages, landing gear, and cockpit canopies. This entire industrial supply chain had to be urgently dismantled after 2019.

These skilled jobs—and the expertise accumulated over years of partnership with American manufacturers—vanished overnight, without any grand public statement to do them justice.

We always talk about the planes, never about the hands that built them. These Turkish workers deserve, at the very least, to be remembered for their silent sacrifice.

Training That Began but Was Never Completed

Turkish pilots had indeed traveled to the United States to train on aircraft already bearing the Turkish colors, according to reports at the time. This training was abruptly halted when Turkey was excluded from the program in 2019.

Imagine the professional disorientation: training for months in a cockpit bearing your country’s flag, only to learn that the aircraft will never return home—that it will be taken over by the U.S. military.

This image strikes a particular chord with me: pilots trained to fly an aircraft that will never belong to them. It’s a human frustration that official statements never mention.

A Handshake, a Lot of Hope

On July 6, 2026, in Ankara, on the sidelines of the NATO summit, Erdogan found himself sitting next to Donald Trump. According to Al Jazeera, the Turkish president expressed hope for a “favorable decision” on the F-35s, noting that five jets had been promised to him in the past.

Trump, in turn, uttered a phrase that must have sounded like a small victory to Erdogan: “It’s an excellent plane, by far the best.” But no signature, no firm commitment followed those words.

I find it hard not to feel a little empathy for that moment, even though I know that the hope expressed that day was built on shifting legal ground.

A Visit That Went Almost Unnoticed

While the cameras were focused on the NATO summit, the Egyptian defense minister was making a much more low-key visit to Ankara. It was there, far from the spotlight, that the issue of transferring the S-400s to Egypt was reportedly discussed, according to Defence Express.

This contrast between the summit’s public spectacle and the quiet diplomacy in the corridors illustrates just how much real military decisions are negotiated far from official rhetoric.

It is often these discreet, almost invisible meetings that determine the actual outcome of major geopolitical issues. The summit was merely a backdrop.

An Inauguration That Resembled a Show of Force

On July 4, 2026, Egyptian President Abdel Fattah al-Sissi inaugurated a new military facility, nicknamed “the Octagon,” in the new administrative capital. For the first time, Egypt publicly displayed its Russian S-300VM system there.

Alongside the missiles were Apache and Ka-52 helicopters, as well as MiG-29, F-16, and Rafale fighter jets—an arsenal that, on its own, encapsulates Egypt’s strategic balancing act among multiple arms suppliers.

This image of Sisi surrounded by Russian, American, and French weapons all at once strikes me as the perfect symbol of our fragmented geopolitical era.

The Human Cost of a Technology Embargo

The CAATSA sanctions imposed in December 2020 did not just affect abstract companies: they targeted specific officials, such as İsmail Demir, then president of the SSB, who was subject to an asset freeze and personal visa restrictions.

Behind every name on the sanctions list lies a career put on hold, a tarnished professional reputation, and a family living with the consequences of political decisions made far above their heads.

I often think of these civil servants whose names appear on a sanctions list, even though they themselves had no say in the policy that led to their inclusion.

Lindsey Graham, the voice of moderation

Faced with the firm stance of eighteen U.S. lawmakers led by Dina Titus, Republican Senator Lindsey Graham—despite being a staunch supporter of Israel—chose a different tone: “There may be resistance in Congress, but a solution could be found,” he told Turkiye Today.

This personal nuance, coming from within the very camp that is most uncompromising on Israeli security, shows that human perspectives sometimes defy expected party lines.

I appreciate this human complexity in Graham: refusing to resort to caricature, even when his political camp expects an unyielding hard line.

Behind-the-Scenes Pressure

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has personally stepped up his calls and messages to convince Washington not to give in on the Turkish F-35s, according to Al Jazeera. This is not just a cold, impersonal statement, but a concern raised directly by a head of government.

One can imagine the sleepless nights, the late-night calls, and the genuine anguish of a leader who sees this U.S. decision as a direct threat to the security of his country and its people.

For me,
this Israeli concern is not abstract: it carries the weight of a region where any imbalance in air power can cost human lives.

A Vice President Caught in the Crossfire

Vice President JD Vance was tasked with the delicate job of publicly explaining, from the Oval Office, that the Pentagon is “examining” how to legally certify a potential sale of F-35s to Turkey despite Turkey’s current possession of S-400s.

“There are certain things we need to certify have taken place in order to comply with U.S. law. The president has asked us to do so,” he said—a statement that reveals the full extent of the institutional unease surrounding this issue.

I hear in Vance’s words the embarrassment of a man caught between his president’s political promise and the strictness of a law passed by Congress.

A Hearing That Said It All

On June 6, before the House Foreign Affairs Committee, Secretary of State Marco Rubio was unusually clear: Turkey cannot join the F-35 program as long as it retains the S-400—a legal principle that, in his view, no amount of diplomacy can circumvent.

Faced with Representative Dina Titus, who pressed him with questions, Rubio left no room for ambiguity, embodying institutional firmness in the face of current political pressures.

I admire Rubio’s rigor, which serves as a reminder that behind every grand presidential promise, U.S. law still has the final say.

A Name Still Associated with Failure

Even after his departure from the SSB, İsmail Demir’s name remains inextricably linked to this affair. He was the one who negotiated the purchase of the S-400s with Moscow; he was the one who bore the symbolic burden of personal sanctions; and his career has been forever marked by this strategic choice.

His career illustrates just how much state decisions always end up becoming part of a man’s life story, long after official statements have been forgotten by the general public.

There is something deeply human about the idea that a geopolitical choice becomes inextricably linked to a name and a career for the rest of a person’s professional life.

JINSA’s Warning

The JINSA Institute has published an uncompromising report, demanding that Washington maintain a hard line until Turkey normalizes its relations with Israel. Behind this technical document are researchers convinced that firmness protects lives, not just abstract principles.

These expert voices, often ignored amid the clamor of summits and televised handshakes, carry a moral responsibility that they have consistently shouldered for years.

I respect the steadfastness of these analysts, who reject the comfort of diplomatic consensus when the security of their allies is at stake.

A man who stakes as much on his image as on his strategy

For Erdogan, the F-35 issue goes beyond a mere military matter: it is a matter of national pride, personal pride, and status on the international stage. Every statement on this subject is calculated to appeal to his electorate as much as to his Western partners.

This dual perspective—balancing domestic political calculations with international negotiations—makes him a more complex figure than the simple image of a leader coldly negotiating arms deals.

I cannot reduce Erdogan to a mere cynical negotiator: he also bears the weight of a country that has long felt mistreated by its Western partners.

A mosaic of fates linked by a single case

Pilots whose training has been put on hold, laid-off engineers, sanctioned officials, and executives negotiating in the spotlight: once you scratch beneath the diplomatic surface, the Turkish S-400 affair reveals a multitude of human stories upended by decisions made at the highest levels.

It is this human dimension—often overlooked in purely strategic analyses—that gives this issue its full gravity and moral complexity.

I firmly believe that one can never truly understand a geopolitical issue without looking at the faces it touches—and sometimes leaves behind—along the way.

A portrait of a wait that might finally come to an end

Seven years after the exclusion, Erdogan may finally be nearing his goal, but nothing is certain yet. U.S. law remains strict, Congress remains vigilant, and Israel continues to exert influence behind the scenes regarding this decision, which could redefine the regional balance of power.

This portrait has no heroes or absolute villains: only men and women caught up in the gears of a strategic choice made in 2017, whose human consequences continue to unfold before our eyes.

I conclude this portrait with a simple certainty: behind every state-level negotiation, there are always lives hanging in the balance, subject to a decision over which they have no control.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist