At the recent SAHA Expo 2026, Turkey unveiled a mock-up of the Yildirimhan (Thunderbolt) and released details about the long-range, four-engined, liquid-fueled ballistic missile. The designation “Yildirimhan” refers to Ottoman Sultan Bayezid I, known as “the Thunderbolt,” circa 1400 AD. He was known for acting faster than his enemies, striking before alliances formed, and crushing resistance with swift effectiveness. The naming approach sends a geopolitical message as loud as the missile itself.

Turkey’s pursuit of an advanced long-range missile capability reflects a broader shift in its strategic ambitions, regional influence, and state security priorities. Once seen as sufficient to defend NATO’s southeastern flank but not fit for EU membership, Turkey has increasingly sought to redefine itself as an independent geopolitical power. No longer willing to be merely a buffer state for Western interests, Ankara is actively transforming into an independent, assertive geopolitical power capable of shaping the Middle East, the Eastern Mediterranean, the Black Sea, the Caucasus, Central Asia, and even Europe itself.

A key part of this transformation has been Turkey’s increasing focus on defense self-sufficiency, domestic military technology, and strategic autonomy. Within this context, Turkey’s declared goal to develop long-range ballistic capabilities, including at Intercontinental Ballistic Missile (ICBM) levels, demands America’s full attention.

We may be witnessing the ultimate manifestation of a state seeking to decouple its sovereign interests in security and power projection from historical external arms dependence and traditional “alliance reliance” Western security guarantees.

Turkey’s missile ambitions are likely part of a broader effort to reduce its dependence on foreign defense suppliers that either restrict access to advanced weapons capabilities or sell suboptimal weapons systems that are difficult to integrate, costly to maintain, or are just ineffective. Turkish leaders have frequently expressed frustration with arms embargoes, sanctions, and restrictions imposed by allies during political disputes. These tensions have accelerated Turkey’s investment in domestic aerospace, drone, missile, and satellite-launch industries, framing these programs as symbols of national sovereignty, technological progress, and strategic independence.

Concurrently, Turkey’s increasingly unstable security situation has incentivized its need for long-range deterrent capabilities. Ankara is not only positioned at the crossroads of Europe and Asia, but it is also close to several regional flashpoints involving Ukraine, Russia, Iran, Iraq, Syria, and ongoing tensions in the Eastern Mediterranean. Turkey desires increased geopolitical influence and greater operational freedom. Developing long-range missile systems, therefore, has both military and political importance, boosting deterrence and signaling Turkey’s rise as a regional power capable of independent strategic action. In short, Turkey intends to shape these challenges moving forward, and more autonomy is the price of leadership.

Turkey’s long-range missile development, fueled by its National Technology Initiative, is part of a larger investment in civilian space and satellite launch initiatives, which were officially presented as peaceful technological advancements designed to strengthen communications, scientific research, and national prestige. Turkey’s commitment to this effort is now on display in Somalia, of all places, where it is constructing a spaceport to support future launch operations. The technologies required for satellite launch vehicles closely overlap with those needed for ballistic missile systems, including multi-stage rocket propulsion, precision guidance, and reentry vehicle engineering. As a result, advances in Turkey’s space program will expedite its long-range ballistic missile development.

Although Turkey does not possess nuclear weapons and is a signatory to the nuclear non-proliferation treaty, occasional statements by Turkish officials criticizing the global nuclear order have fueled international speculation that Turkey might seek its own nuclear arsenal in the future. Any ICBM capable of carrying a 6,000-pound weapons payload over approximately 6,000 kilometers would have limited strategic value as a conventional weapon, but with a nuclear warhead, it would dramatically alter the strategic calculations across the region and beyond.

The possibility of a reduced American nuclear commitment to NATO Europe could increase Turkey’s importance in the same way. If European governments keep pushing Washington out of NATO, the result will be that Europe must pay for and develop its own nuclear capabilities—another form of deterrence. France has introduced its new doctrine of “forward deterrence,” which advocates for an expanded nuclear arsenal and a broader nuclear deterrence umbrella over all of Europe, but only under French operational control. Both Poland and Germany have conveyed interest in alternative nuclear arsenals to bolster European deterrence. In this context, Turkey could see its long-range missile capabilities as an opportunity to fill the deterrence gap identified by other NATO leaders and as a pathway toward future nuclear delivery capability if political circumstances change.

At the same time, Turkey’s pursuit of advanced missile systems could generate tensions within NATO if those capabilities are not carefully integrated into the alliance’s broader strategic framework. Some European allies may view Turkish missile development—and any potential future nuclear ambitions—as destabilizing, given Ankara’s sometimes contentious relationships with other NATO members. Such developments would inevitably raise questions regarding missile security, command-and-control arrangements, escalation risks, and about whether Turkey’s long-term strategic objectives remain fully aligned with broader alliance priorities.

Whether Turkey ultimately seeks to develop an arsenal of nuclear-armed ICBMs remains uncertain. What is clear, however, is that Turkey’s long-range missile ambitions are real and appear to support both a broader long-term strategy of autonomous power projection and a more immediate effort to expand capabilities that could contribute to NATO’s evolving long-range strike and nuclear deterrence requirements.

Turkey’s growing missile capabilities reflect a clear strategic goal: to make itself an independent, technologically advanced, and influential military power in an increasingly unstable region; thereby, demonstrating that Turkey is not only a force to be reckoned with but also a partner to be allied with. Its growing missile ambitions reflect a strategic objective of establishing Turkey as an independent, technologically advanced, and regionally influential military power capable of operating with greater strategic autonomy in an increasingly unstable security environment. Turkey should not be viewed merely as a state to be reckoned with, but as an indispensable ally and arms supplier.

Colonel Curtis McGiffin (U.S. Air Force, Ret.) is Vice President for Education at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies, President of MCG Horizons LLC, and a visiting professor at Missouri State University’s School of Defense and Strategic Studies. He has three decades of experience in uniform and DoD civil service and is the co-host of the weekly The NIDS View podcast. The views and opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and MCG Horizons LLC, and do not necessarily reflect the views of any other affiliated organization.

Turkey’s ICBM: Ambition for Autonomy was originally published on Global Security Review.

Recently, however, the ground has been shifting. As we point out in a recent article, Ethiopia has attempted to take advantage of the recent involvement of various Arab Gulf States in the Horn of Africa’s coastal zone to reduce its dependency on Djibouti’s port. The port currently accounts for 95% of Ethiopia’s imports and exports. It has done so by actively trying to interest partners in the refurbishment and development of other ports in the region: Port Sudan in Sudan, Berbera in the Somaliland region of Somalia, and Mombasa in Kenya.

But it is Berbera, in particular, that will prove the most radical in terms of challenging regional power dynamics as well as international law. This is because a port deal involving Somaliland will challenge Djibouti’s virtual monopoly over maritime trade. In addition, it may entrench the de-facto Balkanization of Somalia and increase the prospects of Ethiopia becoming the regional hegemon.

Ethiopia’s regional policy

Ethiopia’s interest in Berbera certainly makes sense from a strategic perspective. It is closest to Ethiopia and will connect the eastern, primarily Somali region of Ethiopia to Addis Ababa. It will also provide a much needed outlet for trade, particularly the export of livestock and agriculture.

The development and expansion of the port at Berbera supports two primary pillars of Ethiopia’s regional policy. The first is maintaining Eritrea’s isolation. The aim would be to weaken it to the point that it implodes and is formally reunited to Ethiopia. Or it becomes a pliant, client state.

The second pillar rests on maintaining the status quo in post-civil war Somalia. Simply put, a weak and fractured Somalia enables Ethiopia to focus on quelling persistent internal security difficulties. It also keeps up pressure on Eritrea.

Ethiopia’s ambitions for Berbera have been hampered by two problems. Firstly the Republic of Somaliland – a de-facto independent state since 1991 – still isn’t recognised internationally. This makes engagement a political and legal headache. Secondly, Ethiopia, doesn’t have the critical resources needed to invest and build a port.

Ethiopia had been trying to get Abu Dhabi and Dubai interested in the Berbera Port for years. It’s latest push was assisted by a number of factors. These included a shift in the UAE’s military focus in Yemen and Ethiopian assurances of more trade and some financing to upgrade the port.

Ethiopia’s diplomatic push – which coincided with developments across the Gulf of Aden – finally got it the result it craved. In May 2016, DP World, a global mega-ports operator, signed an agreement to develop and manage Berbera Port for 30 years.

The Berbera Port deal

It is unlikely that DP World would have signed the deal if it didn’t see some long-term commercial benefit. The deal also includes economic, military and political dimensions.

Economically, for example, there will be investments in Somaliland’s fisheries, transportation and hospitality industry. The UAE will also establish a military installation in Berbera. The base is intended to help the UAE tighten its blockade against Yemen and stop weapons being smuggled from Iran.

Politically, the Berbera Port deal has provoked mixed reactions in Somaliland. There has been some popular anger aimed at Somaliland’s former president, Ahmed Mohamed Mohamoud aka “Silanyo”, and his family who reportedly benefited personally from it. Anger also stems from inter-clan and sub-clan rivalry over land, particularly in the Berbera area.

But the anger in Somaliland pales in comparison to the reaction in Mogadishu. This is because the Somaliland government has remained largely isolated internationally – until the port deal.

Somalia Federal Government ministers have publicly challenged the right of Somaliland to enter into official agreements with any country. The Ethiopian-driven deal means that Mogadishu’s claims over the breakaway territory have weakened substantially. The deal means that Somaliland has partially broken the glass ceiling of international recognition by entering into substantive deals with viable business partners and states operating on the global stage. Mogadishu can no longer pretend it controls the government in Somaliland’s capital Hargeisa.

Ethiopia’s wins

The bottom line is that Ethiopia has engineered access to another port and enhanced its security and strategic economic interests. With the growth in annual volumes of transit cargo, Ethiopia has, for a long time, needed alternative routes from Djibouti.

In addition, Ethiopia has ensured its presence in the running of the port by acquiring a 19% share in the deal.

And by wangling a legally binding agreement between Somaliland and another state, Ethiopia has potentially paved the way for eventual international recognition of Hargeisa.

Ethiopia has also further cemented its hold over Somaliland through a combination of pressure and material incentives. By bringing significant outside investment and recognition, Ethiopia can also increasingly meddle in its internal affairs. This is a conundrum for Hargeisa. It finds itself increasingly emboldened to act independently. Yet it remains constrained by the need to get Addis Ababa’s approval.

As Ethiopia begins to move increasing amounts of goods and services on Somaliland’s new highway to the refurbished port of Berbera, Hargeisa may begin to question key aspects of the port deal.

But one aspect will not be in question: Ethiopia’s rising power and influence over the entire region.

How an Ethiopia-backed port is changing power dynamics in the Horn of Africa was originally published on Global Security Review.

While the self-proclaimed Islamic State has dominated the headlines and preoccupied national security officials for the past four years, al-Qaeda has been quietly rebuilding. Its announcement last summer of another affiliate—this one dedicated to the liberation of Kashmir—coupled with the resurrection of its presence in Afghanistan and the solidification of its influence in Syria, Yemen, and Somalia, underscores the resiliency and continued vitality of the United States’ preeminent terrorist enemy.

Although al-Qaeda’s rebuilding and reorganization predates the 2011 Arab Spring, the upheaval that followed helped the movement revive itself. At the time, an unbridled optimism among local and regional rights activists and Western governments held that a combination of popular protest, civil disobedience, and social media had rendered terrorism an irrelevant anachronism.

The longing for democracy and economic reform, it was argued, had decisively trumped repression and violence. However, where the optimists saw irreversible positive change, al-Qaeda discerned new and inviting opportunities.

The successive killings in 2011 and 2012 of Osama bin Laden; Anwar al-Awlaki, the movement’s chief propagandist; and Abu Yahya al-Libi, its second-in-command, lent new weight to the optimists’ predictions that al-Qaeda was a spent force. In retrospect, however, it appears that al-Qaeda was among the regional forces that benefited most from the Arab Spring’s tumult. Seven years later, Ayman al-Zawahiri has emerged as a powerful leader, with a strategic vision that he has systematically implemented.

Forces loyal to al-Qaeda and its affiliates now number in the tens of thousands, with a capacity to disrupt local and regional stability, as well as launch attacks against their declared enemies in the Middle East, Africa, South Asia, Southeast Asia, Europe, and Russia. Indeed, from northwestern Africa to southeastern Asia, al-Qaeda has knit together a global movement of more than two dozen franchises. In Syria alone, al-Qaeda now has upwards of twenty thousand men under arms, and it has perhaps another four thousand in Yemen and about seven thousand in Somalia.

The Arab Spring’s Big Winner

The thousands of hardened al-Qaeda fighters freed from Egyptian prisons in 2012–2013 by President Mohammed Morsi galvanized the movement at a critical moment, when instability reigned and a handful of men well-versed in terrorism and subversion could plunge a country or a region into chaos.

Whether in Libya, Turkey, Syria, or Yemen, their arrival was providential in terms of advancing al-Qaeda’s interests or increasing its influence. The military coup that subsequently toppled Morsi validated Zawahiri’s repeated warnings not to believe Western promises about either the fruits of democracy or the sanctity of free and fair elections.

It was Syria where al-Qaeda’s intervention proved most consequential. One of Zawahiri’s first official acts after succeeding bin Laden as emir was to order a Syrian veteran of the Iraqi insurgency named Abu Mohammad al-Julani to return home and establish the al-Qaeda franchise that would eventually become Jabhat al-Nusra.

Al-Qaeda’s blatantly sectarian messaging over social media further sharpened the historical frictions between Sunnis and Shias and gave the movement the entrée into internal Syrian politics that it needed to solidify its presence in that country. Al-Qaeda’s chosen instrument was Jabhat al-Nusra, the product of a joint initiative with al-Qaeda’s Iraqi branch, which had rebranded itself as the Islamic State of Iraq (ISI). But as Nusra grew in both strength and impact, a dispute erupted between ISI and al-Qaeda over control of the group.

In a bold power grab, ISI’s leader, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, announced the forcible amalgamation of al-Nusra with ISI in a new organization to be called the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS). Julani refused to accede to the unilateral merger and appealed to Zawahiri. The quarrel intensified, and after Zawahiri’s attempts to mediate it collapsed, he expelled ISIS from the al-Qaeda network.

Although ISIS—which has since rebranded itself the Islamic State—has commanded the world’s attention since then, al-Qaeda has been quietly rebuilding and fortifying its various branches. Al-Qaeda has systematically implemented an ambitious strategy designed to protect its remaining senior leadership and discreetly consolidate its influence wherever the movement has a significant presence.

Accordingly, its leaders have been dispersed to Syria, Iran, Turkey, Libya, and Yemen, with only a hard-core remnant of top commanders still in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Advances in commercial digital communication tools, alongside successive public revelations of U.S. and allied intelligence services’ eavesdropping capabilities, have enabled al-Qaeda’s leaders and commanders to maintain contact via secure end-to-end encryption technology.

The Importance of Syria

The number of top al-Qaeda leaders sent to Syria over the past half-dozen years underscores the high priority that the movement attaches to that country. Among them was Muhsin al-Fadhli, a bin Laden intimate who, until his death in a 2015 U.S. air strike, commanded the movement’s elite forward-based operational arm in that country, known as the Khorasan Group. He also functioned as Zawahiri’s local emissary, charged with attempting to heal the rift between al-Qaeda and ISIS.

Haydar Kirkan, a Turkish national and long-standing senior operative, was sent by bin Laden himself to Turkey in 2010 to lay the groundwork for the movement’s expansion into the Levant, before the Arab Spring created precisely that opportunity. Kirkan was also responsible for facilitating the movement of other senior al-Qaeda personnel from Pakistan to Syria to escape the escalating drone strike campaign ordered by President Barack Obama. He was killed in 2016 in a U.S. bombing raid.

The previous fall marked the arrival of Saif al-Adl, who is arguably the movement’s most battle-hardened commander. Adl is a former Egyptian Army commando whose terrorist pedigree, dating to the late 1970s, includes assassination plots against Egyptian President Anwar al-Sadat, the 1998 bombings of the U.S. embassies in Kenya and Tanzania, and al-Qaeda’s post-9/11 terrorist campaigns in Saudi Arabia and South Asia. He also served as mentor to bin Laden’s presumptive heir, his son Hamza, after both Adl and the boy sought sanctuary in Iran following the commencement of U.S. and coalition military operations in Afghanistan in late 2001. The younger bin Laden’s own reported appearance in Syria this past summer provides fresh evidence of the movement’s fixation with a country that has become the most popular venue to wage holy war since the seminal Afghan jihad of the 1980s.

Indeed, al-Qaeda’s presence in Syria is far more pernicious than that of ISIS. Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), the latest name adopted by al-Qaeda’s local affiliate, is now the largest rebel group in the country, having extended its control last year over all of Idlib Province, along the Syrian-Turkish border. This is the culmination of a process al-Qaeda began more than three years ago to annihilate the Free Syrian Army and any other group that challenges al-Qaeda’s regional aspirations.

Filling the ISIS Vacuum

ISIS can no longer compete with al-Qaeda in terms of influence, reach, manpower, or cohesion. In only two domains is ISIS currently stronger than its rival: the power of its brand and its presumed ability to mount spectacular terrorist strikes in Europe. But the latter is a product of Zawahiri’s strategic decision to prohibit external operations in the West so that al-Qaeda’s rebuilding can continue without interference.

The handful of exceptions to this policy—such as the 2015 Charlie Hebdo attacks in Paris and the 2017 St. Petersburg Metro bombing in Russia—provide compelling evidence that al-Qaeda’s external operations capabilities can easily be reanimated. Yemen-based al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula’s capacity to commit acts of international terrorism—especially the targeting of commercial aviation—was recently the subject of a revealing New York Times story.

Al-Qaeda’s success in resurrecting its global network is the result of three strategic moves made by Zawahiri. The first was to strengthen the decentralized franchise approach that has facilitated the movement’s survival. Over the years, the leaders and deputies of al-Qaeda’s far-flung franchises have been integrated into the movement’s deliberative and consultative processes. Today, al-Qaeda is truly “glocal,” having effectively incorporated local grievances and concerns into a global narrative that forms the foundation of an all-encompassing grand strategy.

The second major move was the order issued by Zawahiri in 2013 to avoid mass casualty operations, especially those that might kill Muslim civilians. Al-Qaeda has thus been able to present itself through social media, paradoxically, as “moderate extremists,” ostensibly more palatable than ISIS.

This development reflects Zawahiri’s third strategic decision, letting ISIS absorb all the blows from the coalition arrayed against it while al-Qaeda unobtrusively rebuilds its military strength. Anyone inclined to be taken in by this ruse would do well to heed the admonition of Theo Padnos (née Peter Theo Curtis), the American journalist who spent two years in Syria as a Nusra hostage.

Padnos related in 2014 how the group’s senior commanders “were inviting Westerners to the jihad in Syria not so much because they needed more foot soldiers—they didn’t—but because they want to teach the Westerners to take the struggle into every neighborhood and subway station back home.”

A parallel thus exists between the U.S. director of national intelligence’s depiction of the al-Qaeda threat today [PDF] as mainly limited to its affiliates and the so-called Phoney War in western Europe between September 1939 and May 1940, when there was a strange lull in serious fighting following the German invasion of Poland and the British and French declarations of war against Germany. Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain visited British forces arrayed along the Franco-Belgian border that Christmas.

“I don’t think the Germans have any intention of attacking us, do you?” he asked Lieutenant General Bernard Law Montgomery, the commander of an infantry division defending the front. The Germans would attack when it suited them, Montgomery brusquely replied. It is a point worth keeping in mind as al-Qaeda busily rebuilds and marshals its forces to continue the war against the United States it declared twenty-two years ago.

The Resurrection of Al-Qaeda was originally published on Global Security Review.