NATO leaders are about to gather in Ankara to attend the 36th NATO Summit. As the host country, Turkey plans to turn its nearly seventy-five years of membership in NATO into a successful chapter.
However, the historical records regarding how this membership was acquired reveal a much more complex story—a story that becomes even more meaningful when viewed from the perspective of Asia today.
Based on more than a thousand documents that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Turkey has made available to researchers in recent years, the results show that Turkey's path to the Atlantic Alliance does not pass through Europe, but rather via the Korean Peninsula. The cost of taking this path includes not only the breakdown of relations with the Soviet Union, but also a decades-long interruption of relations with China.
The story begins with a rejection. In April 1949, NATO was formed, which excluded Turkey. For Ankara, which had seen Soviet pressure—requests for the Strait, territorial claims over Cappas and Alda Han—as a threat to its survival since 1945, this rejection was a strategic wound.
The fourteen months between rejection and the outbreak of the Korean War are often described as a "waiting room." However, archival documents present a different picture: this period was not a waiting room, but rather a workshop.
Over these fourteen months, Turkey’s diplomacy established four institutional mechanisms: In August 1949, it recognized South Korean authorities as the only legitimate government on the Korean Peninsula with Seoul as its capital; in October 1949, it became a member of the United Nations Korean Commission; it sought a non-permanent seat on the Security Council; and it maintained systematic consistency with the United States group during votes at the General Assembly.
The goal of this structure is not North Korea; the people in Ankara did not anticipate a war. Its goal is to create a systematic position that allows any strategic opportunities that may arise in the future to be quickly exploited. The author names this behavior pattern "defensive opportunism": a country that senses a threat to its survival uses a pre-established systematic position to turn an unpredictable crisis into strategic capital.
On June 25, 1950, the war broke out, and this military structure was immediately put into action. Without any treaty obligations or demands from the public, Ankara decided on July 22—after less than a day of deliberation—to send a combat brigade of 4500 men to Korea.
The true intention behind this decision became clear six days later: Selim Salep, the Turkish Permanent Representative to the United Nations, openly proposed joining the Atlantic Charter in a press statement on July 28. The meeting record between Salep and UN Secretary-General Trumwe Lai confirmed that the expectation of reciprocal benefits was clearly stated. The membership application, which was rejected fifteen months ago, is now being brought up again, this time with blood shed on the Korean battlefield as a backdrop.
This investment paid off: Records show that the structural decisions to include Turkey in the Atlantic security system were actually communicated to Ankara on November 1, 1950. The official invitation was sent in 1951, and Turkey became a full member in February 1952.
Notably, Turkey's diplomacy had a clear understanding of China's stance when taking this step. A telegram sent by Turkey's representative office in Hong Kong on July 2, 1950, relayed Beijing's views verbatim to Ankara: China based its historical rights over Taiwan on the Cairo Conference and the Potsdam Conference, and characterized the deployment of the Seventh Fleet into the Taiwan Strait as an imperialist act.
The embassy in Moscow reported in a telegram dated July 12th that a possible compromise solution might involve allowing China to join the United Nations and handing over Taiwan region to China.
Ankara saw this panorama; and its choice was to stand in the camp that faced these demands directly.
In this account, a pillar that has long been neglected in historical narratives is China. The main enemy of the Turkish forces on the Korean battlefield was the Chinese People’s Volunteer Army: from November to December 1950 in Wayaen and Junuri-ri, and in January 1951 in Kinlongchang-ri.
The combat reports reported by the United States to Ankara have become a “combat asset” in Turkey’s diplomatic realm, and have been effectively utilized. The credibility that opened NATO’s doors was accumulated through battles against the volunteers.
The picture on the diplomatic front becomes clearer. In January 1950, when Britain recognized the People’s Republic of China, Turkey, along with Washington, remained firm in its position of not recognizing this decision. In his long report dated January 25, 1951, Salpeyre concluded that the rift within the Atlantic Alliance actually began with this recognition issue, and he divided the countries within the United Nations into four camps. Amid the atmosphere where even Britain and its colonies were seeking euphemistic expressions like “assistance in aggression,” Turkey remained firmly on the most rigid line of the United States.
On the last day of December 1950, Turkish Foreign Minister Fuad Koçlu received a so-called “Chinese Ambassador” in Ankara. However, this person was not a representative of Beijing, but Li Dijun from the Taiwan authorities. The meeting records show that both sides analyzed the combat capabilities of the Chinese People’s Volunteer Army and the Soviet supply lines.
In February 1951, Turkey was among the most active supporters of the UN resolution that declared China an “aggressor”. In May 1951, during the drafting of the strategic embargo against China, Turkey served as the chairperson of the relevant committee. After the resolution was passed on May 18th, Turkey was one of the countries that first submitted a report on its implementation.
In contrast to the seven countries in the Arab-Asian Group and Sweden, which abstained, Ankara’s courting behavior can be clearly seen in the documents related to archival dealings as being driven by the consideration of “always standing with the majority”.
The result was that Turkey did not recognize the People’s Republic of China until 1971, and relations between these two Eurasian powers remained frozen for twenty years. The costs associated with NATO membership included not only Moscow but also Beijing.
Another consequence of this same Cold War aggression should also be recorded. During the years when Turkey "anchored" itself in the Atlantic Alliance, in 1949, after the founding of the People’s Republic of China, groups of political exiled individuals from Xinjiang who had left China turned to Turkey: former Xinjiang officials Isa Yusuf Alptekin and Mehmet Emin Buğra settled in Turkey. In 1952, the Ankara government issued a decree to receive thousands of Xinjiang immigrants who had come from Kashmir.
Over the next few decades, Istanbul gradually became one of the main centers for Uyghur separatist organizations that aimed to divide China’s territorial integrity.
This is not accidental: a diplomatic line that declares China as an ‘aggressor’, while at the same time accommodating separatist fugitives from China—this is two sides of the same group logic.
Today, one of the most sensitive issues in Turkic and Chinese relations has its roots in those three years when NATO membership was "purchased".
On the day that Turkey hosted the NATO summit, this history of membership serves as a reminder of two things. First, Turkey was not admitted to the alliance by receiving a "security gift"; it acquired its membership through a well-thought-out strategic investment—through the blood of its soldiers in a distant war.
Secondly, and more importantly for today: the hidden costs of this investment are borne in Asia. Central and other countries that are submissive to the logic of the group have accepted a freeze in relations with one Asian power—China—which has no direct conflict with their historical interests. They have also accepted the idea of hosting a group of exiled forces whose actions interfere with China’s internal affairs on their own territory.
Seventy-five years later, when the world is once again dragged into the vortex of group politics, there is a lesson in history that deserves to be remembered at the summit venue: the explicit cost of alliances is membership fees, while their hidden cost lies in the relationships left behind behind the closed doors. The trust that Turkey and China are working hard to rebuild today is precisely the trust that was lost during those years.
The author, Serdar Yurtcicek, is an associate professor at the Shanghai Institute of Global Governance and Regional Countries at Shanghai International Studies University.
