President Trump’s reported push to reopen the door for Turkey to rejoin the F-35 fighter jet program has revived one of NATO’s messier family arguments. And yes, this is very much a “family argument” situation: Turkey is a NATO ally, the U.S. wants strong partners against Russia and Iran, Israel is raising alarms, Congress has legal objections, and sitting in the middle of the room like an unexploded diplomatic casserole is Turkey’s Russian-made S-400 air defense system.

The immediate controversy is straightforward enough. Trump said at the NATO summit in Ankara that he would lift sanctions on Turkey and decide on a possible F-35 sale, even though Turkey was removed from the F-35 program after acquiring Russia’s S-400 system. U.S. law still blocks transferring F-35s to Turkey as long as Ankara possesses the S-400, according to the Congressional Research Service. So, this isn’t just a handshake-and-happy-photo issue. It’s a national-security, alliance-discipline, congressional-authority, and Middle East balance-of-power issue all wearing the same overstuffed NATO blazer.

The Case for Letting Turkey Back Into the F-35 Program

Supporters of admitting Turkey back into the F-35 program start with a simple point: Turkey isn’t some distant, irrelevant country asking for a shiny toy from the Lockheed Martin gift shop. It’s a long-standing NATO member with major geographic importance, sitting at the crossroads of Europe, the Middle East, the Black Sea, the Mediterranean, Russia, Syria, Iran, and about fourteen other headaches the West can’t simply wish away.

From this perspective, excluding Turkey indefinitely may be strategically satisfying in the short term but counterproductive in the long term. Turkey has NATO’s second-largest army, has become a major developer and exporter of arms, and says it’s moving toward NATO’s 5 percent defense-spending target by 2030. If the goal is to strengthen NATO’s southern flank, supporters argue that keeping Turkey technologically integrated with the West is better than letting it drift further toward Russia, China, or other alternative defense suppliers.

Supporters also argue that the F-35 dispute has become a symbol of a broader U.S.-Turkey breakdown. Turkey was originally part of the F-35 partnership and had been expected to buy 100 of the jets; Turkish firms also produced hundreds of parts for the aircraft before the U.S. began unwinding Ankara from the program. To Ankara and its defenders, Turkey didn’t begin as an outsider trying to sneak into the club through the kitchen door. It was already in the program, invested money, built components, trained personnel, and then got booted after the S-400 decision.

There’s also the diplomatic leverage argument. Supporters may say the United States shouldn’t simply punish Turkey forever but use the F-35 as a carrot to solve the S-400 problem. If Ankara is willing to permanently disable, remove, transfer, or otherwise neutralize the Russian system under verifiable conditions, then reopening the F-35 discussion could give Turkey a face-saving way back into the Western defense ecosystem. In diplomacy, face-saving exits matter. Nations, like toddlers and senators, often dig in harder when publicly humiliated.

Supporters further point out that Trump views Turkey as useful on current regional challenges. Trump recently praised Turkey as “more loyal” than some other allies and said he had “no concerns” about the Russian air defense issue, while also saying the F-35 sale was something his administration would consider. Whether one agrees with that assessment or not, the pro-readmission side sees Turkey as a partner that can help with Iran, regional diplomacy, military access, and broader NATO burden-sharing.

Finally, supporters argue that alliances require maintenance, not just punishment. If Turkey is kept permanently frozen out, Ankara may conclude that no compromise will ever be enough. That could encourage more independent, transactional, or anti-Western behavior. In that view, readmitting Turkey under strict conditions could be less about rewarding bad behavior and more about pulling a difficult ally back into the orbit where the United States has more influence.

The Case Against Letting Turkey Back Into the F-35 Program

Opponents begin with the obvious problem: Turkey bought Russia’s S-400 system, and that isn’t a tiny paperwork error. The Pentagon said in 2019 that Turkey “cannot have both” the Russian air defense system and the fifth-generation fighter, because the S-400 could collect intelligence near the F-35 and potentially jeopardize the aircraft’s stealth advantages. That’s the heart of the objection. The F-35 isn’t just another jet. It’s a flying computer, sensor platform, and stealth system wrapped in expensive American secrets. Handing it over while Russian equipment remains in the picture is, to critics, the defense-policy equivalent of leaving your house key under a mat labeled “Definitely Not For Burglars.”

Opponents also argue that this isn’t merely a policy preference; it’s a legal barrier. Section 1245 of the FY2020 National Defense Authorization Act precludes transferring F-35s to Turkey unless Turkey no longer possesses the S-400. In other words, the president can’t simply decide that a warm meeting with Erdoğan makes the law go poof. Congress has a role here, and ignoring that role would be especially troubling for conservatives who claim to care about constitutional order.

Then there’s the Israel issue. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has reportedly opposed the possible F-35 sale to Turkey, warning that it could damage the military balance in the Middle East. Netanyahu told CNN that he’d made his opposition clear to Trump and argued that Turkey has “aggressive aspirations.” Supporters of Israel are naturally wary of giving advanced stealth fighters to a government that has been sharply hostile toward Israeli operations in Gaza, Lebanon, and Syria. Even if Turkey is technically a NATO ally, critics argue that Middle East reality is messier than alliance paperwork.

Opponents also point to trust. Turkey has often acted as a difficult partner within NATO, including its disputes with other allies, its independent regional operations, and its willingness to play both sides between the West and Russia. U.S. concerns about Turkey’s regional adventurism and the broader Turkey-Russia dynamic are factors in U.S. deliberations. The argument here isn’t that Turkey must agree with Washington on everything. Real allies disagree. But when the disagreement involves Russian military systems and America’s premier stealth fighter, critics say the margin for “oops, our bad” gets pretty thin.

Opponents also worry about precedent. If Turkey can buy a Russian defense system, endure sanctions for a while, and then regain access to the F-35 without fully resolving the problem, what message does that send to other countries considering Russian weapons purchases? In plain English: if rules are flexible for a big enough ally, they stop being rules.

Finally, critics argue that Trump’s personal diplomacy style may be poorly suited to this particular question. The F-35 program isn’t a real estate negotiation, and national-security safeguards shouldn’t be treated like an add-on clause in a hotel deal. The concern is that Trump’s fondness for strongman-style rapport with Erdoğan could lead to an overly generous deal, especially if framed as a big diplomatic “win.” And when the product being negotiated is one of America’s most advanced warplanes, “trust me, we have a great relationship” isn’t exactly a substitute for verifiable security conditions.

A Prudent Path Between Punishment and Naivety

The right answer isn’t “never Turkey” and it’s definitely not “sure, here are the keys to the stealth fighter, enjoy.” The better answer is conditional engagement with hard red lines.

Turkey matters. It’s a NATO ally. It has real military weight. It sits in a strategically vital region. Pushing Turkey completely out of the Western defense orbit would be foolish, especially while Russia remains aggressive, Iran remains dangerous, and NATO needs serious burden-sharing instead of another round of European defense speeches written in calligraphy and paid for by American taxpayers.

But stewardship matters too. A wise approach to foreign policy should value prudence, order, truthfulness, loyalty, and moral clarity. That means allies should be treated with respect, but they should also be held accountable. “Alliance” can’t mean “do whatever you want and still get the premium weapons package.” That’s not diplomacy.

The F-35 shouldn’t go to Turkey unless the S-400 issue is fully and verifiably resolved. Not “turned off.” Not “stored somewhere.” Not “we pinky promise it won’t be connected to anything important.” The Russian system should be removed, transferred, destroyed, or otherwise eliminated in a way U.S. and NATO officials can verify. The legal requirement that Turkey no longer possess the S-400 should be honored, not creatively interpreted into meaninglessness.

Congress should also have its say. If Congress created a legal barrier for sound national-security reasons, the administration should work through Congress, not around it. Process isn’t boring when the alternative is handing stealth technology to a country still entangled with Russian defense systems.

Israel’s concerns should be taken seriously as well. That doesn’t mean Israel gets a veto over every U.S. defense decision. America isn’t obligated to outsource its foreign policy to Jerusalem, Ankara, Brussels, or anyone else. But Israel is a critical ally in a dangerous region, and giving advanced stealth capability to a government that openly clashes with Israel should require sober analysis, not diplomatic mood lighting and a photo-op handshake.

So, my final verdict is this: Turkey should be allowed back into the F-35 conversation, but not back into the F-35 program yet. The door should be open only after Ankara removes the S-400 problem completely, accepts verifiable safeguards, repairs trust with NATO partners, and clears the legal requirements set by Congress. Anything less would reward bad judgment, weaken deterrence against Russian defense sales, and put America’s most sensitive military technology at unnecessary risk.

In short, Turkey shouldn’t be treated like an enemy, but neither should it be rewarded like nothing happened. Allies get grace. They don’t get stealth fighters while the Russian air-defense system is still sitting in the garage.