Why Did Türkiye, Saudi Arabia and Pakistan Come Together in the Same Defense Pact?
In Brief
Nebahat Tanrıverdi Yaşar
August 10, 2026
Türkiye, Saudi Arabia and Pakistan signed a trilateral defense agreement in Mecca, with President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif in attendance. However, the full text of the agreement has not yet been made public. For it to become legally binding on Türkiye, an international agreement of this nature must also go through the approval process of the Turkish Grand National Assembly (TBMM). We will most likely see the full text at that stage.
For now, therefore, what we have is a brief joint statement and comments made by officials to the press. Even so, these provide several important clues as to what the “Mecca Pact” is intended to achieve and how it might alter the regional security equation.
Let us begin with what the official statement says. The brief text states that the parties aim to develop defense cooperation “in all its dimensions” and strengthen “collective deterrence.” Its most striking provision is the commitment that an armed attack against any one of the three countries will be regarded as an attack against all three.
What does “an attack on one is an attack on all” actually mean?
The wording inevitably brings to mind NATO’s Article 5. Indeed, Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan described the mechanism during a television appearance as being “technically the same as NATO Article 5.” In statements by the parties, the agreement has been presented as a defense-oriented framework that does not target any particular country, is based on burden-sharing and a shared understanding of security, and is intended to promote regional and global peace and stability.
Fidan’s remarks also reveal several institutional details that were not included in the joint declaration. According to him, the plan is to establish a ministerial committee involving foreign and defense officials, hold regular consultations among military commanders, and create a permanent secretariat headquartered in Saudi Arabia.
An important qualification is needed here. As with NATO’s Article 5, the formula “an attack on one is an attack on all” does not mean that the parties would automatically go to war in response to every crisis. Under the framework described so far, the country under attack would first have to request assistance, after which the parties would determine the nature of that support through political consultations. Fidan specifically emphasized that the scope of assistance would be decided at the time of the crisis. Such support could take various forms, ranging from intelligence-sharing and logistical assistance to the deployment of military forces.
In other words, the agreement establishes a strong political commitment to solidarity, but how that commitment would be implemented militarily is largely left to the political decisions the parties make during a crisis. Moreover, the publicly available text contains no critical details regarding force commitments, geographical scope, command-and-control arrangements, or how a joint military intervention would actually be conducted. It is therefore still too early to reach firm conclusions about the agreement’s real military capacity.
Is this a new security architecture?
Even so, the Mecca Joint Defense Agreement has already sparked extensive debate both in Türkiye and beyond the region. Some view it as a symbolic and limited political declaration, while others see it as the possible beginning of a new regional security architecture. Comparisons to an “Islamic NATO” fall somewhere between these two competing expectations.
To understand what the agreement might bring, two questions therefore need to be separated. First, what can the agreement actually do militarily? Second, what are the parties seeking to change politically?
Can the pact really work militarily?
To answer this, let us continue with the comparison to NATO. NATO’s collective defense strength does not derive solely from Article 5 or from member states using similar weapons systems. The alliance’s real achievement has been its ability to make very different national armed forces capable of operating together within the same military campaign when necessary.
Behind this lies a comprehensive military infrastructure built continuously since the Cold War: common doctrines, command systems, communications standards, logistical arrangements, joint exercises, data links and pre-planned operational concepts. In NATO’s integrated air defense system, for example, a radar in one country can detect a threat while a fighter aircraft from another country takes off to intercept it. Ground forces from different countries can operate under the same chain of command. During the Cold War, the reinforcement of Europe by U.S. forces was planned in advance, while major exercises such as REFORGER regularly tested whether those plans would actually work. Such exercises continue today.
NATO’s deterrence, therefore, rests not only on the political commitment that “an attack on one is an attack on all,” but also on a military mechanism that largely determines in advance who will act, where they will act, with which forces, and under whose command if an attack occurs.
How do the armed forces of the three countries differ?
The Mecca Pact is still a long way from such a structure. Building that kind of capacity in a short period of time would not be easy either. The first reason is that the armed forces of Türkiye, Saudi Arabia and Pakistan differ substantially both in their institutional structures and in the types of warfare for which they have historically prepared.
Of the three countries, Türkiye has the greatest experience with NATO-style multinational operations. The Turkish Armed Forces have historically been centered on a large land force, but particularly since the 1990s they have increasingly developed an expeditionary character, becoming capable of conducting cross-border operations, deploying forces abroad and sustaining them over prolonged periods. In addition to its military presence in Syria, Iraq, Libya and Somalia, Türkiye’s participation in NATO operations has given it significant experience in logistics, basing, joint operations and force deployment across different theaters.
Pakistan’s military priorities, by contrast, have largely been shaped around the threat posed by India. It possesses very large ground forces, a strong air force, advanced missile capabilities and a nuclear deterrent. However, it does not have the same breadth of sustained expeditionary operational experience as Türkiye.
Saudi Arabia presents a different profile. Riyadh stands out for its technologically advanced air force, air and missile defense systems such as Patriot and THAAD, substantial military infrastructure, and financial resources far greater than those of Türkiye and Pakistan. At the same time, Saudi military capacity has primarily been structured around the defense of its own territory and has long depended on the technical, logistical and operational support of external partners, particularly the United States. As a result, the gap between possessing advanced technology and being able to employ that technology independently and effectively remains one of the significant challenges facing the Saudi military establishment.
Precisely because of these differences, it makes more sense to view the three countries’ military capabilities not as similar to one another, but as potentially complementary. This is also the central argument of those who are optimistic about the pact. Türkiye can contribute experience in expeditionary warfare, joint operations, unmanned aerial systems, electronic warfare and the defense industry. Pakistan can provide military mass, land and air power, and missile capabilities, while its nuclear deterrent could increase the alliance’s political weight. Saudi Arabia, meanwhile, could become the structure’s supporting hub through financing, bases, logistical infrastructure and high-technology systems.
Bringing these complementary capabilities together on paper, however, is far easier than integrating them on the battlefield.
Saudi Arabia’s largely U.S.-made F-15, Patriot and THAAD systems, Pakistan’s Chinese-linked fighter aircraft, radars and sensors, and Türkiye’s military infrastructure—which operates according to NATO standards but increasingly incorporates domestically produced systems—cannot easily be connected to a single digital battlespace network. Nor is the challenge purely technical. Issues such as sharing sensitive intelligence, encrypted communications, tactical data links, identification friend-or-foe systems, ammunition standards and the allocation of command-and-control authority all require a high degree of trust among allies.
More importantly, there is the obstacle posed by U.S. opposition to the integration of its military systems into the same ecosystem as Chinese and Russian systems. The Gulf Cooperation Council’s long-running difficulties in integrating air and missile defense provide a good example. Despite possessing large quantities of advanced military technology, Gulf states have struggled for precisely this reason to bring American, Chinese and Russian systems together under a single, seamless regional defense architecture.
So what would be the most realistic military scenario?
In the short term, it does not appear realistic for the Mecca Pact to transform the three countries’ armed forces into a single military structure. A more likely scenario would be the development of limited, flexible and “modular” forms of cooperation centered on particular threats and missions.
One of the most suitable areas for such cooperation could be maritime security in the Red Sea. The Turkish, Saudi and Pakistani navies do not need to operate the same ships or use identical weapons systems. Simply establishing a common maritime picture, dividing responsibilities in designated areas, arranging access to ports and bases, and determining in advance which country would contribute which assets during a crisis could already create a significant degree of coordination.
Similar cooperation could emerge in early warning against missile and drone threats. Connecting all of the parties’ radars and fire-control systems into a single network would be extremely difficult both technically and politically. Sharing certain levels of radar data, conducting joint threat assessments and establishing early-warning mechanisms, however, would be far more feasible. Such arrangements could shorten response times against missile and drone threats, particularly around the Gulf and the Red Sea.
For this reason, the key concept that will determine the pact’s military future will not be “full integration,” but rather “sufficient interoperability.” The central question is not whether the Turkish, Saudi and Pakistani armed forces can fight as a single army under all circumstances, but whether they can determine in advance who will intervene in specific crisis scenarios, with what capabilities, and how quickly.
These scenarios may be more realistic, but they are by no means easy to implement. That point should be kept in mind as we move to the next question.
Why does the defense industry matter?
From Türkiye’s perspective, one of the most tangible benefits of this new alliance could emerge in the defense industry. Statements by senior officials already point in this direction.
Saudi Arabia possesses vast financial resources and maintains high levels of defense spending. At the same time, it is seeking to localize defense production. Pakistan, meanwhile, has relatively low-cost manufacturing capabilities in the defense sector, strong links with Chinese technologies, and more advanced defense-industrial capabilities extending as far as fighter aircraft production.
Türkiye is seeking to expand its production capacity, secure financing for both new and ongoing projects, and find partners capable of providing technological support for some of its programs. For this reason, defense-industrial cooperation may become the fastest-moving component of the new security agreement.
Why is Türkiye joining such a pact when it is already a NATO member?
Fundamentally, Türkiye does not need a new alliance to defend its own territory and sovereignty. NATO’s collective defense system possesses a military infrastructure far more powerful than anything the Mecca Agreement is currently capable of providing.
Ankara’s participation in the pact is therefore closely connected to its search for greater influence over regional security. From Ankara’s perspective, the principal priority—and the intended gain—is to ensure that, if a new security architecture is going to emerge, Türkiye is not left outside it. Saudi Arabia and Pakistan already had close defense ties. In a scenario where Riyadh developed a new framework encompassing Pakistan, Egypt and other regional powers while Türkiye remained outside, Ankara could eventually find itself having to adapt to a system whose rules had been written by others.
Türkiye has instead chosen to be present while the table is still being set. In doing so, Ankara aims to have a say on issues such as membership, collective defense thresholds, maritime security, military standards, defense-industrial cooperation and the relationship between the new framework and Western security structures.
From this perspective, Ankara’s choice can be seen as a trade-off in which greater regional influence is sought in exchange for greater security responsibilities. We will return to this point at the end of the article.
The real objective: a regional security architecture?
For Ankara, however, the broader objective goes beyond deterrence. The concept that stands out in Fidan’s remarks is “regional ownership.”
Behind this approach lies a particular diagnosis of the Middle East’s security order: because countries in the region do not sufficiently trust one another, they have largely sought to guarantee their security through bilateral relationships and security guarantees provided by external powers. The U.S. military presence and American security commitments, in particular, have stood at the center of this system for decades. As a result, regional security has been shaped less by common mechanisms established among regional states themselves and more by a series of separate security relationships with outside powers.
Ankara’s discourse of “regional ownership” represents a search for an alternative to precisely this structure. The objective is not to remove external powers from the region altogether, but to create an order in which regional states invest more in one another’s security, institutionalize security cooperation among themselves, and increasingly manage crises through their own mechanisms.
In Ankara’s eyes, therefore, the Mecca Agreement is not merely a military alliance, but one of the first institutional building blocks of this broader search for a regional order. The consultation mechanism known as the R4 (Regional Quartet), comprising Türkiye, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and Egypt, is also important in this respect. A similar strategic logic underpins Ankara’s positive attitude toward Egypt’s potential participation in the Mecca Pact.
Yet an important distinction must be made here. The regionalization of security and the creation of a regional security order are not the same thing. In fact, Middle Eastern security is already highly regionalized. Regional powers such as Türkiye, Iran, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates and Israel have long employed military, economic and political tools beyond their borders, intervened in various conflicts and sought to establish spheres of influence. The problem, therefore, is not that regional actors are insufficiently involved in security politics. Quite the opposite: regional actors are extremely active.
What is missing are common rules and institutions capable of regulating this interaction. A genuine regional security architecture therefore entails far more than countries arming themselves together or making mutual defense commitments. It requires regular consultation, crisis management, early warning, joint planning, conflict prevention, defense-industrial coordination and, most importantly, mechanisms capable of managing relations among regional rivals. The Mecca Agreement does not yet establish such an architecture, but it seeks to become one of its building blocks.
The fundamental paradox of the Mecca Security Agreement
On the one hand, Ankara argues that the emergence of new blocs would deepen regional fragmentation. On the other hand, whether it intends to or not, it is taking a first step in precisely that direction through a selective mutual defense pact.
This is a serious problem because a powerful military arrangement comprising Türkiye, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and potentially Egypt could easily be perceived in different ways by other actors: by Tehran as an anti-Iranian bloc, by New Delhi as a strategic alignment in Pakistan’s favor, or by Israel and the UAE as a new axis of power. Counter-alliances—which, arguably, already exist in one form or another—are likely to respond to this development in different ways in the near future.
The second risk for Türkiye is the possibility of being drawn into conflicts in which it has no major interests at stake. Pakistan’s principal military concern is India; Saudi Arabia’s priorities include Iran, the Houthis and Gulf–Red Sea security; Türkiye’s security agenda, meanwhile, stretches from Russia to Syria and Iraq, and from the Eastern Mediterranean to its growing rivalry with Israel. In other words, the three countries do not share the same threat priorities.
If an India-Pakistan war breaks out, what military obligation would Türkiye have? How would Ankara respond to a Houthi attack? How far would Türkiye be willing to go in the event of a new confrontation between Iran and Saudi Arabia? And if Türkiye and Israel were to become directly engaged in a military confrontation in Syria, would Riyadh and Islamabad demonstrate the same degree of solidarity?
There are no clear answers to these questions. It is probably no coincidence that the agreement leaves the precise form of assistance to consultation among the parties. This flexibility protects members from being automatically drawn into war, but at the same time limits the deterrent value of the collective defense commitment.
The third risk concerns the strategic autonomy Türkiye is seeking. Ankara wants to expand its room for maneuver by developing diverse partnerships. Security alliances, however, fundamentally require their members to surrender a certain degree of freedom of action. In return, they provide a security guarantee. NATO operates according to the same principle. If Türkiye wants its partners to trust it, it cannot respond to every crisis by saying, “I will decide depending on the circumstances.” The same applies to Pakistan and Saudi Arabia.
Greater regional influence, therefore, inevitably entails greater responsibility and greater costs.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and may not reflect the editorial policy of Fikir Turu.
This article was first published on August 10, 2026.
