Recently, an article published in the Israeli daily Israel Hayom titled “Northern Cyprus is also an Israeli problem” sparked strong reactions in Turkish and Turkish-Cypriot media. The piece goes beyond mere commentary, openly calling on Greece, Cyprus, and Israel to coordinate actions for the liberation of the occupied northern part of Cyprus.
Speaking to GeoTrends, Shay Gal, a leading expert in geopolitical strategy and public diplomacy, delivered a sharp analysis, describing Türkiye as “the new Iran,” a destabilizing actor that poses a direct threat to NATO’s security architecture.
– Mr. Gal, in a recent article you argue that the occupied “Northern Cyprus” is no longer only a Greek Cypriot problem, but also an Israeli one. Could you explain why you see it this way?
Northern Cyprus is no longer a frozen conflict on Europe’s periphery; it is a live strategic fault line that cuts directly into Israel’s security. For fifty-one years, the world treated the occupation as if it were a local quarrel between Athens and Ankara. That fiction has now collapsed. What exists today in the occupied north is not a “disputed territory” but a forward operating platform of a revisionist power—an empty space inside NATO and the EU, and a direct threat to Israel’s freedom of maneuver.
Israel cannot afford to ignore this for one simple reason: geography has turned into time. Northern Cyprus sits at the crossroads of our lifelines—energy corridors, subsea cables, and the EuroAsia Interconnector that link Israel to Greece and to Europe. Whoever controls the north holds leverage not only over the sovereignty of Cyprus, but also over the arteries that bind Israel to the West. This is no longer about maps; it is about minutes: four minutes for a ballistic missile to reach Tel Aviv, fourteen minutes for an anti-ship strike to cripple a rig, sixty minutes for a drone squadron to loiter over our sea lanes. These are not hypotheticals—they are the new currency of deterrence.
And beyond the hardware, there is the strategic environment. The occupied zone has become a sanctuary for Hamas operatives, Quds Force networks, and grey-finance channels that fund terror from Istanbul to Beirut. Casinos, universities, and ports are not neutral civilian spaces, but instruments of intelligence and coercion—used to entrap diplomats, launder money, and project influence deep into Europe. What masquerades as a “breakaway state” is, in reality, an unsinkable aircraft carrier, one that Ankara uses to extend its reach over the Eastern Mediterranean.
For Israel, this changes everything. We are not seeking to inherit the disputes of the past, but we cannot allow the future of our region to be dictated by a lawless enclave that erodes NATO’s credibility, undermines the EU’s integrity, and threatens our vital lifelines. What happens in the occupied north is no longer distant—it touches Jerusalem as directly as it touches Athens and Nicosia.
The truth is uncomfortable but unavoidable: if Northern Cyprus remains a strategic black hole, it will not only destabilize Greece and Cyprus—it will fracture the Eastern Mediterranean and endanger Israel itself. Our response cannot be indifferent. It must be collective, decisive, and rooted in a simple axiom: aggression cannot be allowed to turn geography into a weapon of time.
© baykartech.com– What are the main strategic risks that Türkiye’s military presence in Northern Cyprus poses to Israel’s security and regional interests, and how do modern technologies like UAVs extend the danger?
Türkiye’s military presence in Northern Cyprus is neither symbolic nor static—it is designed to be a force multiplier. This is the only island in the Mediterranean where a foreign army maintains tens of thousands of troops, along with air and naval bases, missile infrastructure, intelligence centers, and logistics hubs, all outside meaningful international oversight. What appears on the surface to be an “old occupation” is, in reality, a multi-dimensional platform that allows Ankara to threaten Israel directly in a theater where time itself becomes the decisive variable. A few minutes can make the difference between stability and strategic disaster.
The first risk is aerial dominance. From the Geçitkale base, Türkiye operates Bayraktar TB2 drones and is already showcasing the more advanced Akinci UAVs. These are not simply unmanned aircraft; they are integrated weapons systems combining intelligence collection, precision munitions, and satellite communications. Their significance lies in constant presence—the ability to surveil Israeli gas platforms, track naval and commercial shipping, and apply pressure without firing a single shot. A drone hovering over a trade route is not just reconnaissance; it is an economic weapon, inflating insurance costs, slowing shipping, and deterring international investment.
The second risk is ballistic. Türkiye’s Tayfun missile, with a range of over 500 km, is already prepared for deployment at bases in Kyrenia and Famagusta. For the first time, Israel can be directly threatened by ballistic missiles launched not from Turkish territory, but from an occupied enclave. Simultaneously, ATMACA anti-ship missiles deployed in the north can push the Israeli Navy back from open waters, place offshore energy assets at immediate risk, and project Turkish reach deep into the Eastern Mediterranean.
The third risk is intelligence and cyber. The Kyrenia mountain ridge provides ideal elevation for advanced SIGINT systems, effectively turning Israel and Cyprus into a “glasshouse.” Every signal, every transmission, every movement can be intercepted. Coupled with the documented phenomenon of GNSS spoofing in the Eastern Mediterranean, Northern Cyprus offers Ankara a perfect platform to distort reality—disrupting aircraft navigation, undermining precision systems on energy rigs, and eroding civil aviation safety.
Perhaps the most insidious risk is logistical. Famagusta port and northern infrastructure function as a logistics hub beyond international scrutiny. Weapons systems, drone components, or reinforcement troops can be moved, stored, and activated without NATO or EU monitoring. This is Ankara’s most dangerous advantage: the ability to hide behind NATO membership while operating outside it. Türkiye can strike from the outside, while enjoying protection from within.
Northern Cyprus is the first battlespace in which an adversary successfully merges four dimensions: conventional military threat, advanced technology, gray logistics, and a protective legal umbrella. This is not merely an enemy base; it is an island where every university, every hotel, every casino, every port can serve as an intelligence asset or a logistics weapon. It is an “Island of Threats”—a new model of warfare below the threshold of open conflict.
For Israel, the implications are stark. This is not a hypothetical war of the future—it is a daily campaign already underway, where drones impose economic pressure, cyber and SIGINT generate uncertainty, missiles loom over cities and rigs, and ports funnel covert supplies. All of this can occur without Türkiye firing a single open shot.
This is why Northern Cyprus is not merely a “Cypriot problem”—it is unmistakably an Israeli problem. It defines Israel’s freedom of action, the cost of its economy, and the credibility of its deterrence. If we continue to treat it as a frozen occupation rather than a multi-dimensional strategic platform, we risk losing the battle before it has even begun.
– You also suggest that Israel, together with Greece and Cyprus, should be prepared. What specific deterrence measures could prevent escalation and tackle the “Turkish risk”?
Deterrence does not begin the day a missile is launched or a submarine leaves port. Real deterrence begins when you succeed in shifting the adversary’s perception—when he is forced to reveal what he sought to conceal, and when his own public debate becomes a confirmation of your analysis. That is precisely what happened after I published my article and introduced the scenario I named “Poseidon’s Wrath.”
The scenario “shook Türkiye.” There was not a single major outlet that did not cover it. For days, the entire Turkish public sphere revolved around one idea: that Northern Cyprus is no longer just a Greek or Cypriot matter, but a direct Israeli security concern—and potentially a trigger for coordinated Israeli-Greek-Cypriot action.
Even Ersin Tatar, the figurehead “president” of the pseudo-state, was forced to go live on CNN Türk to reassure his public that there was “no military scenario.” The very fact that he felt compelled to respond is proof of how deeply the message penetrated.
Perhaps most telling of all was the reaction of the intelligence community. A 50-page report by Türkiye’s National Intelligence Academy of the MIT, leaked to the Turkish press, analyzed the June “Twelve-Day War” between Israel and Iran and its implications for Türkiye. The report did not merely study Israel’s technology and operational tempo—it explicitly referenced “Poseidon’s Wrath.” What began as an Israeli op-ed became required reading inside the Turkish intelligence establishment. When a national intelligence service integrates your scenario into its threat assessments, deterrence has already moved from the pages of newspapers into the war rooms of Ankara.
But this is only the first stage. Now it must be anchored in strategy:
a) Real-time intelligence fusion among Israel, Greece, and Cyprus.
b) Declared red lines: deployment of additional missile systems in the north, the flight of armed UAVs over shipping lanes, or cyberattacks on civilian infrastructure—each must trigger a coordinated response.
c) An undersea Iron Dome to shield the cables and pipelines that sustain our democracies.
d) Economic exclusion: any company operating in the occupied north should be automatically barred from regional infrastructure and energy projects.
Brussels and Washington may prefer to look away—or even cooperate with Ankara. That weakens NATO and erodes the EU’s credibility. But it also sharpens the reality: stability in the Eastern Mediterranean will not come from distant capitals. It will come from the three democracies—Jerusalem, Athens, and Nicosia—who live with the consequences.
© Akkuyu Nükleer Güç Santrali– Do you think that President Erdoğan might seek further deployment of power in Cyprus and strengthen Türkiye’s geopolitical presence in the Eastern Mediterranean?
Erdoğan will not only seek it—he must. But this drive for further deployment is not the mark of a confident power; it is the reflex of a regime that increasingly resembles “the new Iran”: exporting instability abroad to mask crises at home.
The pattern is familiar. A collapsing currency, runaway inflation, social fragmentation, and the erosion of institutions have created a political economy that survives by manufacturing external theaters of distraction. Erdoğan frames these moves as bold steps of independence, but in reality, they are acts of dependency disguised as sovereignty.
The clearest symbol is the Akkuyu Nuclear Power Plant (Akkuyu Nükleer Güç Santrali) in Mersin. For years, Ankara marketed Akkuyu as the crown jewel of energy independence. In reality, it is a Russian-owned project—fully controlled by Rosatom in its fuel cycle, logistics, and operation. Then, just one day after I publicly warned that Akkuyu was not only an energy venture but also a potential dual-use nuclear path, Moscow announced it was seeking to sell 50 percent of its stake. What kind of “national asset” is placed on the auction block by its foreign owner? The answer is obvious: it is not an asset but a liability, a lever of control over Ankara, and a latent security risk for the entire region.
And it is not only outside analysts who see this. In Mersin itself, civil society has raised alarms. Sabahat Aslan, President of the Mersin Environment and Nature Association (MERÇED), stated bluntly what Turkish officials dare not say: “Nuclear plants are built for nuclear weapons and their material.” Her question—“Is there a secret agreement with Russia?”—struck a nerve precisely because the opacity of the project fuels suspicion. Here too, Erdoğan’s “great achievement” looks more like a Trojan horse: a foreign-controlled installation that generates dependency, public fear, and international mistrust.
This is why I call Türkiye “the new Iran.” Like Tehran, Ankara insists on uranium enrichment “research” for peaceful purposes while quietly signaling military potential. Like Iran, it uses missile development—the Tayfun system, the KAAN fighter—as props for prestige politics. And like Iran, it cloaks weakness in shows of defiance. Yet there is one crucial difference: Iran’s clerical system, however repressive, is structured to absorb pressure. Erdoğan’s personalized regime is brittle. It concentrates power in one man and one office, magnifying miscalculation and reducing resilience.
Hakan Fidan, now Minister of Foreign Affairs, personifies this method. For decades in intelligence, he mastered the craft of perception management: exporting narratives of strength while deepening dependency on Qatari capital, Russian reactors, and Western markets. Under his stewardship, Turkish diplomacy has become a theater.
And here enters the “neo-Ottoman vision.” For Erdoğan, the occupied north of Cyprus is not merely a military base—it is a symbol, the eastern-western edge of an imagined imperial revival. The “Blue Homeland” doctrine is more than naval strategy; it is a nostalgic projection of empire. Just as Tehran uses revolutionary ideology to mask its internal fragility, Ankara uses “neo-Ottomanism” to project grandeur abroad. And in the vacuum left by Iran’s weakening, Erdoğan sees an opportunity: to step forward as the new regional disruptor, positioning Türkiye not only as similar to Iran but as its replacement.
This is precisely why Türkiye may be more dangerous than Iran. Iran, at least, is outside NATO—isolated, sanctioned, exposed. Türkiye operates under the protective shield of Article 5. It can provoke, deploy missiles, and threaten Europe’s doorstep while hiding beneath the very alliance that should restrain it. This is the paradox: every local escalation risks being wrapped in NATO’s collective defense clause, turning a Mediterranean quarrel into a transatlantic crisis.
The danger is amplified by the naivety of Brussels and the appeasement reflex of Washington. The EU still prefers to treat Ankara as a “difficult but necessary partner,” ignoring that the occupied north of Cyprus has already become a strategic black hole in the Mediterranean. And Washington clings to the illusion that keeping Türkiye “inside the tent” at all costs preserves stability—even as Ankara actively undermines NATO from within. This policy does not restrain; it rewards. It hands Erdoğan precisely what he seeks: freedom of maneuver beneath a Western umbrella.
So yes, Erdoğan will extend power projection from Northern Cyprus, the Aegean, and the Eastern Mediterranean. But he will do so not from strength, but from necessity—because the domestic equation demands permanent distraction. Every UAV launched from Geçitkale, every naval maneuver in Karpas, every “Blue Homeland” speech is not proof of dominance but a substitute for confronting implosion at home.
For Israel, Greece, and Cyprus, the lesson is clear: what looks like expansion is actually displacement. Erdoğan’s deployments are not only a threat—they are also a confession. A confession that Türkiye cannot stabilize at home without fabricating crises abroad. This is why vigilance must be constant, coordination firm, and communication truthful. When we expose the illusion, we strip Erdoğan and Fidan of the stage on which they depend.
– Despite the potential danger posed by the Turkish military presence in Cyprus, Israel is avoiding military confrontation with Turkish forces, either in Syria or elsewhere. How likely is it that such an operation would take place now and jeopardize regional stability?
Israel’s strategic outlook has never been built on a hunger for war. Our default posture is not confrontation but resilience—not aggression, but survival. And yet, the tragic reality of the Middle East has forced Israel to adopt a doctrine that is defensive in essence but decisive in execution. We call it the doctrine of necessity: the recognition that while Israel does not seek battle, it cannot afford passivity. We are, in effect, a “lion out of necessity”—calm when left alone, but ferocious when survival is at stake.
In 2025, when Iran’s nuclear infrastructure approached the point of no return, Israel acted for the third time. No one expected it. Many dismissed it as impossible. But when diplomacy collapses and deterrence erodes, Israel always fulfills its doctrine—not out of choice, but out of necessity.
This is why I emphasize: Israel does not seek confrontation. But when cornered, when every diplomatic avenue has been exhausted, we become the lion out of necessity.
What does this mean for today? It means deterrence is not a luxury; it is the bedrock of our survival. It means preparation is not escalation but the very condition of stability. And it means that any actor—whether in Ankara, Tehran, or elsewhere—who believes that Israel will ignore existential threats is repeating the same miscalculation that others made before them.
The lesson is stark but simple: better to be ready and never act, than to be unready and face disaster. That is what Israel’s history has proven. That is what our adversaries know, deep down, even as they test us. And that is what Brussels and Washington must remember: appeasement is not peace, and passivity is not stability. Only credible deterrence sustains security.
So, when asked whether Israel seeks confrontation, my answer is clear: no. But if forced, Israel will act—as it always has—not because it wants to, but because it has no other choice. That is the burden of being a lion out of necessity. And it is also the guarantee that, for all its vulnerabilities, Israel will endure.
© NASA– If such an operation takes place on Cypriot soil, are you not afraid that open conflict, which would inevitably involve Greece, could lead to incalculable destruction in the three countries (Greece, Cyprus, Israel) and the possible loss of territory?
If the question is, “Doesn’t your public discourse—your scenarios, your red lines, your code names—escalate the situation?”, then my answer is this: speech is the brake, not the fuel. Silence in the Eastern Mediterranean means that those who understand only force quietly redraw our reality—and then one morning we wake up to a fait accompli. I choose to make the unspoken visible, because only what is visible can be stopped.
Those who fear that articulating scenarios will lead to war are mistaken. The truth is the opposite: it is precisely the refusal to state truths that invites war. When you set clear boundaries, you shrink the margin of error and reduce the risk of uncontrolled escalation. And here it must be said plainly: we cannot afford the luxury of fearing the truth. The real fear should be surprise—waking up to destruction because we were silent.
This is not the romance of power; it is the engineering of deterrence. When you define the threat down to the minute and the nautical mile, you shift the clock from surprise back to planning. We already proved this: the very framing I published triggered a chain reaction on the other side—denials that never came, internal debates, leaked intelligence assessments—and conveyed one simple message: there is a scenario on the table that democracies will prepare for together, and if you cross the line, you will pay the price. That is the moment when words narrow the adversary’s margin of error more than any destroyer at sea.
I also reject the false distinction between “diplomacy” and “deterrence.” Diplomacy without clear boundaries is an invitation to accidents; deterrence without an exit path is an invitation to escalation. That is why I propose—and practice—a model of strategic transparency combined with tactical ambiguity: everyone understands what will trigger a joint response by Jerusalem–Athens–Nicosia, but no one knows exactly when or how it will come. That cools misinterpretations and leaves the adversary with a healthy uncertainty—the only combination that prevents wars.
And here is the point: the true destruction does not come from an op-ed or a spoken scenario; it comes from an uncontrolled outbreak of conflict without clear boundaries. Whoever leaves the arena in fog endangers not only Israel, Greece, and Cyprus, but Europe as a whole. Red lines are not a recipe for war; they are a mechanism to prevent war.
Those who say that public speech “creates crises” confuse comfort with security. Comfort is not a strategy. Security is built on three concrete pillars, and I place them on the table openly so there are no misunderstandings:
First, surprise prevention: publishing red lines and issuing public strategic warnings regarding pipelines, undersea cables, and shipping lanes. This ensures that insurers and investors price risks correctly and exert preventive pressure on those who threaten them.
Second, rules of maritime stability: visible coordination protocols for unmanned aircraft flying over trade routes, mandatory AIS/ADS-B protocols in sensitive corridors, and a new concept of undersea NOTMARs to protect critical infrastructure. When the battlefield is economic, the rules must also be economic.
Third, cyclical deterrence checks: a quarterly public index measuring regional risk levels—frequency of incidents, GNSS spoofing attempts, deployment of weapons systems closer to red lines. When data is public, the temptation to surprise is reduced.
As an Israeli and as a pro-Hellene, I say this without apology: our partnership is not against anyone; it is for an open space where energy, trade, and free navigation are not held hostage by those who confuse power with extortion. This is the difference between leadership and reactivity: leadership maps the risks in advance, creates bypass lanes, and clarifies where the road is closed. Reactivity waits for the ambulance.
There has never been a region where closing one’s eyes reduced risk. The history of our region proves the opposite: precision—in words, in numbers, in mapping threats—is what reduces the chance of the first shot.
And directly to your question: no, I am not afraid of scenarios of destruction and loss of territory, because my entire approach is designed precisely to prevent them. Deterrence does not seek battle—it prevents it. Red lines are not lines on a map; they are a shield. The regional devastation you describe does not result from public words but from the failure to set boundaries. We are not playing with fire—we are placing firebreaks in advance.
This is not just an answer to your question; it is a strategic code. Not a slogan, but a compass. And I commit that this is how I will always act: to make words themselves instruments that save lives.
– Moving south, with Greek-operated vessels under attack and lives lost in the Red Sea, how has Türkiye’s facilitation of Houthi aggression changed Europe’s strategic stakes?
The Houthi attacks on the Greek-operated vessels Magic Seas and Eternity C in the Red Sea were not a peripheral tragedy in Yemen’s endless conflict. They were a turning point: the moment Europe was forced to confront a reality it long preferred to ignore—that a formal NATO member, Türkiye, has become the quiet enabler of an Iranian proxy navy.
Erdoğan has built what I call a “proxy navy”: the Houthis as Türkiye’s unofficial fleet at Bab al-Mandab. By letting them destabilize the Red Sea, Türkiye achieves by proxy what it cannot achieve with aircraft carriers—the power to disrupt global trade routes.
And here lies the deeper strategy: the “Middle Corridor.” Every Houthi missile that strikes a Saudi tanker, every Greek ship sunk, every Egyptian revenue lost from the Suez, makes overland routes through Türkiye more attractive. This is not an accident—it is a deliberate economic weapon. Ankara is selling the chaos of the Red Sea as the business case for its Eurasian projects.
The “Middle Corridor,” or Trans-Caspian International Transport Route, is marketed as an alternative to the Suez Canal and Russian-controlled routes. It links China through Kazakhstan, across the Caspian Sea to Azerbaijan, into Georgia, and then westward through Türkiye to Europe. For years it was dismissed as a costly detour. But with the Red Sea turning into a shooting gallery, Ankara now presents it as the “only safe artery” between Asia and Europe.
The “Zangezur Corridor,” opened after the peace deal between Azerbaijan and Armenia, is not just a local border adjustment—it is the missing link that turns Türkiye’s vision into a continuous overland bridge. Add to that Iraq’s Development Road project from al-Faw to Türkiye, and Ankara positions itself as the indispensable gatekeeper of continental trade. The Houthis’ rockets are not just destroying ships—they are building the argument for Ankara’s corridors.
For Europe, this is existential. This is not a war “in the Gulf” or “between Israel and Iran.” It is about the arteries of Europe’s economy. Insurance premiums on Mediterranean shipping are soaring. Factories in Germany and France, agriculture in Italy, energy flows across the continent—all are now hostage to a proxy that operates with Türkiye’s tolerance.
And for the Arab world, the lesson is equally stark. Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and the UAE must recognize: every attack on their ships, every drone on their ports, is not only an Iranian game—it is a Turkish one too. The Houthis are serving two masters, and one of them sits in Ankara.
So the real question for Brussels is simple: how long can NATO tolerate a member state that quietly enables the very proxies killing Greek sailors? How long can the EU pretend Türkiye is a “difficult partner” while it functions as a transit hub for the Quds Force? This is not alliance management—it is alliance suicide.
The Houthis are not merely a Yemeni militia. They have become Türkiye’s unofficial navy. And the longer Europe fails to say so, the deeper the Red Sea becomes a graveyard not only for seafarers, but for NATO’s credibility itself.
© NATO– Speaking of proxies: can NATO deter further aggression by groups like the Houthis, and how?
Can NATO deter proxies like the Houthis? It must—because if an alliance cannot deter shadows, it cannot deter at all.
The Houthis are not a “Yemeni problem”; they are proof that proxy warfare has become the central weapon of statecraft—first for Iran, and increasingly for Türkiye. The first truth is this: proxies are never independent. Every Houthi missile over Bab al-Mandab carries an Iranian component, financing that passed through Istanbul, or diplomatic cover provided by Doha. If NATO wants to deter them, it must stop pretending the problem is the militia itself and start targeting the hand that pulls the strings.
That requires three fundamental changes:
First – Attribution. NATO must create an immediate mechanism of proxy attribution: not only who pulled the trigger, but who financed, who smuggled, and who provided safe haven. The Al Aman Kargo network in Istanbul, exposed by the U.S. Treasury, is not peripheral—it is a lifeline. Through it flowed millions of dollars and weapons to the Houthis. When the world sees that a missile fired from Sanaa was paid for through a Turkish account or assembled with Iranian parts, deterrence begins.
Second – Accountability. You cannot be a NATO member by day and a logistical umbrella for proxies by night. That contradiction corrodes the alliance from within. NATO must adopt conditional membership: any state sheltering IRGC-linked networks or proxy pipelines cannot enjoy full NATO privileges. Intelligence sharing, joint procurement, and integrated exercises—all must be conditional. An alliance that defends those who betray it is not an alliance; it is a hostage.
Third – Creeping “Article 5.” Not every proxy strike warrants mobilizing the whole alliance. But every strike must carry a price, visible to the state behind it. That price can be sanctions, exclusion from infrastructure projects, denial of joint ventures, or targeted cyber retaliation. The principle is simple: proxies are not free weapons. Their cost must always be charged to their sponsors.
This is why I propose a new Proxy Attribution Doctrine: every proxy act is attributed to the state behind it. No more convenient separation between “the Houthis fired” and “Iran or Türkiye is responsible.” The Houthis are Iran’s and Türkiye’s unofficial navy. Hezbollah is Iran’s northern division. If NATO cannot say this openly, it cannot deter. The uncomfortable truth is that NATO’s real test will come not in Berlin, but in the Red Sea. If it fails there, it will fail everywhere. And the Houthis—aided and abetted by Türkiye—are the warning shot.
image sources
- geo-trends.eu_Bayraktar: baykartech.com
- geo-trends.eu_Akkuyu: Akkuyu Nükleer Güç Santrali
- NASA 2071127 76.8F: NASA
- geo-trends.eu_NATO: NATO