On Tuesday evening, Galatasaray hosted Germany’s Stuttgart in Istanbul in the UEFA Champions League. Both of Galatasaray’s goals came from Aleksei Batrakov, signed from Lokomotiv Moscow this season. The sound of “Kalinka” ringing around the stadium, accompanied by jubilant celebrations in the stands, quickly attracted international attention. At a time when Russia faces intense political pressure, thousands of supporters embracing a young Russian footballer produced a scene that even an expensive publicity campaign would struggle to recreate.
This is where the influence of soft power becomes apparent. People’s perceptions of a country are shaped by more than political leaders, wars and diplomatic disputes. Athletes, artists and cultural encounters can also build emotional connections across borders. The internet and social media amplify their impact: a goal celebration in Istanbul can reach millions of people around the world within minutes.
Russian state broadcaster RT’s decision to share footage of Kalinka playing after Batrakov’s goals shows an awareness of its value for political communication. Of course, supporters’ affection for a footballer does not imply support for his government’s policies. Yet the goodwill that emerges spontaneously around sporting success can become part of the narrative states present to international audiences.
Relations between Russia and Türkiye have historically combined rivalry, cooperation and mutual suspicion. Against this background, figures such as Batrakov can encourage closer ties between societies despite political disagreements. In Türkiye, where football occupies a central place in everyday life, the visibility of a successful Russian player matters. It is difficult to determine how far this affection will change public perceptions of Russia, but its potential to create positive associations is clear. The interest shown by Russian diplomatic missions since Batrakov’s arrival, including appearances alongside him and congratulatory posts from the Russian Embassy, suggests that the Russian state also recognises this opportunity.
Batrakov’s success in Istanbul also offers an interesting perspective on how tensions between Europe and Russia affect Türkiye. The arrival of such a talented player in Istanbul, rather than at one of Europe’s leading clubs, is difficult to consider entirely separately from the political and economic environment. Sanctions do not prohibit all transfers of Russian footballers to European clubs, but financial restrictions, payment difficulties and political concerns can make such deals harder to complete. In this environment, Galatasaray offers Batrakov a prominent stage on which to demonstrate his talent, while Turkish football gains an important player from the opportunities created by changing circumstances. Sporting ambitions and the clubs’ commercial decisions nevertheless remain essential parts of the explanation.
Türkiye’s position creates similar opportunities and challenges far beyond football. As a NATO ally, it forms part of the Western security system while maintaining extensive relations with Russia in energy, tourism, trade and regional diplomacy. Describing Ankara’s policy as complete neutrality would therefore be misleading. Türkiye seeks to preserve its alliance commitments while keeping channels of cooperation and dialogue with Moscow open.
Nor is this relationship driven solely by Türkiye’s need for Russia. Russia also needs Türkiye. For Moscow, Türkiye is a significant market, a partner through which it can diversify its economic relationships, and an important diplomatic channel to the West. Its position on the Black Sea, its authority over the Turkish Straits and its regional influence further enhance its importance. As Russia’s international room for manoeuvre narrows, its interest in preserving relations with Ankara can be expected to grow.
Mutual need, however, does not mean that interests coincide everywhere. The two countries’ priorities can diverge in the Black Sea, the Caucasus and Syria. Energy ties bring economic benefits but can also create dependence. Ankara’s central challenge is to benefit from its relationship with Russia while preserving its freedom to make its own decisions. Expanding Türkiye’s economic and diplomatic options is therefore essential.
Europe’s approach to Türkiye becomes particularly important at this point. Seeking Türkiye’s contribution to security while restricting economic and political cooperation could narrow Ankara’s options in Moscow’s favour. A Europe that wants to contain Russian influence would undermine its own security objectives by creating conditions that could deepen Türkiye’s dependence on Russia.
Europe’s efforts to strengthen its defence capabilities offer an important opportunity to reassess the relationship. The European Commission’s ReArm Europe/Readiness 2030 framework aims to mobilise approximately €800 billion in defence spending. As part of that framework, the Security Action for Europe instrument, SAFE, provides for up to €150 billion in loans to member states for joint defence procurement. These figures represent spending capacity to be generated through different financing mechanisms, rather than a single, readily available budget.
For Türkiye, the central question is what role it can play in the production and procurement financed by these resources. SAFE loans are available only to EU member states under the programme’s general rules. Türkiye’s ability to join common procurement as a candidate country does not, however, give Turkish defence companies full access as prime contractors. Under the general rule, components originating outside the EU, the EEA EFTA states and Ukraine may account for no more than 35 per cent of the estimated component cost of the final product. Broader industrial participation requires a separate agreement. Türkiye therefore faces restricted and conditional access rather than an outright ban.
This raises a question about the relationship between the security contribution Europe expects from Türkiye and the partnership it offers in return. Asking a country to assume substantial responsibilities for European security while limiting its role in building the industrial and technological foundations of that security makes lasting cooperation more difficult. If Europe wants to draw on the capacity of the Turkish defence industry, it should also expand opportunities for joint production and technological development.
A similar debate surrounds the “Made in Europe” approach emerging in European industrial policy. The proposed Industrial Accelerator Act would give preference to European-origin production in certain public procurement procedures and support programmes. For Türkiye, the crucial issue is how Turkish production, already closely integrated with European industry, will be treated under these rules. Although the Commission’s proposal envisages equivalent treatment for content from customs union partners in certain areas, more restrictive proposals under negotiation create uncertainty. Comprehensive exclusion has therefore not been established, but the risk of exclusion remains significant.
The potential economic consequences should not be underestimated. If a component manufactured in Türkiye is not recognised when calculating European-origin content, European manufacturers may turn to other suppliers to qualify for certain procurement contracts or support programmes. Such a shift could affect orders and investment prospects for Turkish companies while raising costs for European producers. Fragmenting production networks built over many years along political boundaries could weaken Europe’s efforts to improve its competitiveness.
Taken together, SAFE and “Made in Europe” raise questions that extend beyond technical eligibility rules. Türkiye may be expected to contribute to Europe’s security and productive capacity while receiving limited access to the resulting economic and technological benefits. Treating Türkiye as an important market and supplier, while keeping it on the margins of joint production, financing and technological development, will invite greater scrutiny of the benefits of closer relations with Europe.
The opportunities this could create for Moscow should also be considered. Turkish companies facing restricted access to European joint projects and support programmes may seek alternative partnerships. Those partnerships need not be with Russia, but Moscow can be expected to try to benefit from any opening. While expressing concern about Türkiye’s deepening ties with Russia, Europe should also examine whether its own decisions encourage that development.
A policy intended to strengthen Türkiye’s ties with the West should increase the tangible benefits of those ties. Modernising the Customs Union, encouraging joint investment, deepening defence industrial cooperation and preserving Turkish industry’s place in European production networks are complementary steps. A partnership based on equality and reciprocity would broaden Türkiye’s options while contributing to Europe’s security and competitiveness.
Batrakov’s goals in Istanbul are a small but revealing part of this wider picture. A Russian footballer can win the affection of Turkish supporters, Russia can gain international visibility from that affection, and Galatasaray can pursue success with the same player on European football’s biggest stage. Türkiye’s relations with the outside world are similarly too varied to be reduced to a single geopolitical alignment.
Türkiye’s task is to turn these relationships into lasting economic and diplomatic gains. Europe, in turn, needs to recognise how a strong partnership with Türkiye would contribute to its own security and prosperity. Kalinka playing in Istanbul may not represent a major loss for Europe. The greater loss would be the continued postponement of a comprehensive partnership with Türkiye—and the gradual filling of that gap by Moscow.
