Turkey’s Silent Entry into Orthodox Geopolitics

Last update: 2025-12-18 15:41:40

Orthodox Geopolitics and Turkey’s Strategic Ambivalence

Religion has re-emerged as a central variable in contemporary geopolitics, not merely as a cultural or ideological background factor but as a concrete instrument of power, legitimacy, and influence. Within this broader trend, Orthodox Christianity occupies a particularly sensitive position, intersecting with questions of sovereignty, national identity, historical grievances, and regional leadership, particularly in Eastern Europe, the Balkans, and the Eastern Mediterranean. The war in Ukraine has dramatically exposed the geopolitical dimension of Orthodoxy, transforming ecclesiastical decisions into foreign policy tools with long-term consequences. In this evolving context, Turkey occupies a singular and paradoxical position.

As the host country of the Ecumenical Orthodox Patriarchate in Istanbul, Turkey is geographically and institutionally embedded in the heart of the Orthodox world, while remaining a constitutionally secular, Muslim-majority state with no organic confessional ties to Orthodoxy. This structural singularity is further complicated by a historically entrenched perception of Orthodoxy not merely as a religious tradition, but as a politically sensitive and at times adversarial factor within Turkish political memory. During the late Ottoman period, the rise of Balkan nationalisms, many of which were closely intertwined with Orthodox institutions, profoundly altered the Turkish Muslim majority’s relationship with local Christian populations. The Ecumenical Patriarchate increasingly came to be viewed by Turkish political elites as a vector of separatism and foreign intervention, particularly in the context of Greek, Bulgarian, and Serbian national movements. This perception hardened as Orthodoxy became associated, in official and popular narratives, with the territorial disintegration of the Empire, the loss of the Balkans, and the emergence of rival nation-states on former imperial lands.

The collapse of the Ottoman Empire and the traumatic experience of territorial retreat reinforced a security-centric narrative during the Republican period. Within this framework, Orthodoxy, especially in its Greek and Slavic expressions, was often implicitly linked to external powers, irredentism, and historical grievances, rather than treated solely as a domestic religious presence or a matter of religious diversity. The redefinition of citizenship since the proclamation of the republic in 1923 on a unitary and Turkish nationalist basis further marginalized local Christian populations and institutions, while embedding them within a discourse of strategic suspicion rather than pluralistic coexistence. In the twentieth century, the Cyprus question further reinforced this security-oriented paradigm by deepening perceptions of Orthodoxy through the lenses of geopolitical rivalry, national sovereignty, and unresolved historical conflict.

This historical background helps explain both Ankara’s long-standing discomfort with the Ecumenical Patriarchate and the latter’s growing strategic role. Contrary to the recurrent official framing that has portrayed the Patriarchate as a domestic minority institution with strictly local and religious functions among the country’s Greek minority, the Patriarchate has inherently and historically exercised a transnational authority, grounded in its canonical primacy within the Orthodox world through its enduring networks across the world. In this sense, a dialectical dynamic is at work: the Patriarchate’s structural weakness—its lack of backing by a particular state, the small size of its local flock, and its operation within a Muslim-majority country —is simultaneously functioning as a source of strength, reinforcing its capacity for mediation, moral authority, and perceived neutrality within intra-Orthodox and broader international disputes.

Yet, successive Turkish governments have consistently denied or downplayed its international role. This insistence was deeply political: acknowledging the Patriarchate’s supranational role was long perceived as a potential challenge to state sovereignty and security, as it symbolizes a form of authority that eludes full territorial and institutional control. In recent years, however, Ankara has shown signs of allowing the Patriarchate to have global visibility within Orthodox geopolitics, especially in the Ukrainian case. This shift does not signal a full normative reconciliation with the Patriarchate’s status, but rather a pragmatic recalibration, whereby a historically uncomfortable legacy has turned into a conditional geopolitical asset. The tension between these two understandings lies at the core of Turkey’s ambivalence.

Orthodox geopolitics today is largely shaped by the rivalry between the Istanbul and the Moscow Patriarchates. Russia has invested heavily in presenting itself as the protector of global Orthodoxy, embedding religious discourse within a broader narrative of civilizational confrontation with the West under the influence of Eurasianist and “sovereign democracy” rhetorics. The Russian Orthodox Church functions today as a key ideological pillar of the Kremlin, legitimizing both domestic authoritarianism and external expansionism. This fusion of theology, nationalism, and geopolitics has allowed Moscow to portray itself as the guardian of traditional Christian values against a morally decadent West, thereby extending its influence well beyond strictly religious domains. Against this background, the Istanbul Patriarchate’s role as primus inter pares has acquired renewed importance. While it lacks coercive power, its symbolic authority provides it with a form of soft power that directly challenges Moscow’s ambition to monopolize Orthodox leadership, as ecclesiastical alignments mirror strategic fault lines in international politics.

Turkey’s strategic dilemma is thus clear. On the one hand, Ankara seeks to maintain pragmatic relations with Russia across multiple theatres, from Syria and the South Caucasus to energy interdependence, tourism, investments and trade. On the other, it hosts an institution whose actions, particularly since 2018, have directly undermined Russian ecclesiastical and geopolitical interests. Ankara’s attitude towards Istanbul Patriarchate’s role regarding Ukraine has been a calibrated ambiguity by neither openly endorsing nor obstructing Patriarch Bartholomew’s international initiatives. Ankara thus hoped to preserve its room for maneuver, allowing religious geopolitics to unfold without formally binding the Turkish government. This posture reflects a broader transformation in Turkish foreign policy. Rather than rigidly defending doctrinal positions, Ankara increasingly privileges situational pragmatism in international politics. The Patriarchate, too, can thus be seen as a potential diplomatic asset when necessary, while preserving the possibility of reversing this policy when needed.  

 

The Ukrainian Autocephaly Crisis and the Rise of Religious Diplomacy

The granting of autocephaly to the Orthodox Church of Ukraine in 2018 marked a turning point not only for the Orthodox world. Fiercely opposed by the Moscow Patriarchate, Patriarch Bartholomew’s decision triggered a deep schism within global Orthodoxy and redefined the political significance of religious authority. While several Orthodox Churches, most notably those of Greece, Alexandria (which has authority over the entire African continent), and Cyprus, recognized the Ukrainian autocephaly, others either openly aligned with Moscow or adopted a position of ambiguity, reflecting not only theological disagreements but also broader geopolitical alignments and dependencies. For Ankara, the crisis functioned as a stress test, revealing both the risks and opportunities inherent in hosting a globally influential religious institution.

Formally, the Turkish government remained silent on the matter, emphasizing that this action had nothing to do with the state. In practice, however, the absence of obstruction was itself a meaningful signal. By allowing the Patriarchate to convene synods or to host regularly official and religious Ukrainian delegations, Ankara tacitly accepted the international consequences of the decision. This posture contrasted sharply with earlier decades, when any assertion of transnational authority by the Patriarchate would have triggered political criticism.

The Ukrainian autocephaly is not merely a theological issue but a symbolic and institutional blow to Russian Church’s influence in former USSR territory. Western actors, particularly the United States, openly supported the process as part of a broader effort to weaken Moscow’s soft power. In this sense, the Istanbul Patriarchate emerges as a nodal point where religious legitimacy and geopolitical strategy converge. For Turkey, this convergence creates a delicate balancing act. Open alignment with the Patriarchate would have risked antagonizing Russia; overt opposition would have undermined Ankara’s relations with its NATO partners, and especially with the U.S. The chosen middle path, permissiveness combined with rhetorical distance, allowed Turkey to benefit indirectly from the Patriarchate’s actions while preserving plausible deniability. Should tensions escalate, Ankara could always invoke the principle of non-interference in ecclesiastical affairs.

This episode may also reveal a broader evolution in Turkey’s use of religion as a foreign policy instrument. Historically, Turkish religious diplomacy was almost exclusively channeled through Islamic institutions, most notably the Directorate of Religious Affairs (Diyanet). While this remains central, Ankara may increasingly recognize the utility of engaging non-Islamic religious actors when circumstances require. The Patriarchate offers access to networks in a broad geography that would otherwise remain beyond Ankara’s reach. At the same time, this strategy carries inherent risks. Russia has consistently framed the Istanbul Patriarchate as a proxy of Western, and especially American influence. Within this narrative, Turkey’s role as host country is portrayed as complicity, if not orchestration. Any perception that Ankara actively encourages Patriarchal activism could provoke retaliatory measures from Moscow in other domains. The Ukrainian crisis thus underscores the fragility of Turkey’s hedging strategy: effective in the short term, but structurally vulnerable to escalation.

 

Turkish Pragmatism, Domestic Constraints, and Future Scenarios

The relative softening of Ankara’s stance toward the Istanbul Orthodox Patriarchate cannot be understood through culturalist or revivalist lenses alone, but rather as part of a broader strategy characteristic of emerging regional powers seeking to mobilize the full spectrum of available instruments at their disposal. In a context marked by multi-alignment, diplomatic diversification, and competitive soft power, Ankara’s engagement with the Patriarchate reflects a pragmatic recalibration rather than an ideological shift. Religious institutions, historical legacies, and transnational networks are increasingly treated as functional assets, complementing military, economic, and diplomatic tools. Within this framework, engaging Orthodox communities through an Istanbul-based institution appears less as a concession to external pressure than as an effort to optimize strategic optionality, enhance mediation capacity, and project influence across multiple geopolitical arenas simultaneously. By tolerating the Patriarchate’s international role without formally endorsing it, Ankara can position itself as a facilitator of inter-Christian dialogue. This enhances Turkey’s profile as a bridge between civilizations, a narrative it actively promotes in international forums.

Yet domestic constraints significantly limit the extent to which this strategy can be pursued. Nationalist segments of Turkish society and the country’s security community continue to view the Patriarchate with suspicion, interpreting any recognition of its transnational role as a challenge to sovereignty. Symbolic controversies, such as religious ceremonies at historically sensitive sites, are easily mobilized to fuel opposition narratives. The government’s room for maneuver is therefore structurally constrained by the need to avoid domestic backlash.

There is also an ideological tension that is not easy to avoid: while the current government emphasizes the country’s Islamic identity in domestic politics, its pragmatic engagement with a global Christian institution, even though only with a functional, interest-driven logic, will sit uneasily with Islamic identity-based rhetoric. This duality has so far been managed through ambiguity, but it remains a source of potential instability, particularly in moments of heightened nationalist mobilization. Looking ahead, the Turkish government may choose to deepen its engagement with the Patriarchate, leveraging its soft power more explicitly in its near geography, especially in a post-war Ukrainian context where Orthodox alignments will remain contested. Alternatively, Ankara may revert to a more cautious posture, privileging quiet diplomacy and minimizing visible association with Patriarchal initiatives. A more decisive variable is likely to be the future trajectory of Turkey’s relations with both Russia and the West, as shifts in Ankara’s strategic positioning would directly shape the Patriarchate’s room for maneuver and its interaction with the Turkish state. In all cases, Turkey’s ability to become a player in Orthodox geopolitics will depend on its capacity to combine strategic pragmatism with cultural and theological understanding of Orthodox geopolitics. Instrumentalization without fully comprehending centuries-old religious fault lines risks backfiring, undermining both the Patriarchate’s credibility and Turkey’s diplomatic objectives. The intersection of religion and geopolitics demands not only tactical flexibility but also long-term strategic coherence.