By Murat Yıldız
Forty-two percent of Israelis now consider their country more Middle Eastern than European, according to the latest Hebrew University-European Forum Barometer. In 2022, the figure was 31%. Only 18% chose the European description in the latest survey.
Reading those numbers, I thought of Türkiye.
We have spent decades arguing over our place in Europe, often with an intensity that has little to do with geography. European identity, EU membership and Western political values have never meant quite the same thing to Turkish voters.
A 2024 Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung survey found that just 17.7% of young respondents felt strongly European. Yet 57% wanted Türkiye to join the European Union.
The wider public has been through its own changes of heart. In 2004, as Türkiye moved closer to opening accession negotiations, 71% considered EU membership a good thing. Support later fell sharply before partly recovering. The spring 2026 Eurobarometer put it at 46%.
The surveys do not measure the same attitudes. The Israeli study concerns how people see their country, while the Turkish findings deal with personal identification and EU membership. They tell us little about whether the two societies are moving in the same direction.
An Israeli who feels Middle Eastern is not necessarily rejecting democracy. A Turk does not have to feel European to support EU membership.
But the findings reminded me of something I have observed for years.
In Türkiye, arguments about Europe have a habit of becoming arguments about Ankara. When a European institution criticizes the government, reactions often follow domestic political loyalties. Some condemn foreign interference; others welcome the criticism. And those positions can change when Europe says something the same people happen to like.
Israel's debate is different, but it exposes a related tension.
In 2023, hundreds of thousands of Israelis protested Benjamin Netanyahu's judicial overhaul, fearing it would weaken the courts and remove restraints on government power. His coalition argued that elected officials needed to reclaim authority from judges.
The European Union expressed concern, citing judicial independence and the separation of powers. But the divisions within the protest movement told a more interesting story.
Activists calling attention to the occupation and Palestinian rights remained a small presence in a much larger coalition. Many demonstrators had come to defend Israeli democracy, not to reopen the country's most divisive political question.
I understand why. A movement confronting every political dispute at once might never have attracted such broad support.
Still, I find it difficult to set aside the question of Palestinian rights when listening to an argument about democracy.
Their defense of judicial independence was legitimate. But Palestinian rights remained largely outside the movement's demands.
We have our own contradictions in Türkiye.
The Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung research found tensions between young people's support for democratic rights and their tolerance toward people of different identities or beliefs. I have encountered something similar in political conversations. People will defend freedom of expression passionately, then hesitate when the speaker belongs to a movement they despise.
Yet for someone unwilling to join either political camp, the rule of law can offer another place to stand.
You can demand an independent judiciary without endorsing the opposition. You can defend a journalist's right to publish without agreeing with a word they write.
Neither position should be controversial. Both can be surprisingly difficult to maintain.
I learned that in September 2011, when I published an examination of the United Nations Palmer Report on the Mavi Marmara incident. I had translated its findings and studied the accounts submitted by Türkiye and Israel.
The panel concluded that Israel's naval blockade of Gaza was lawful under international law. It also found the force used during the boarding excessive and unreasonable, describing the deaths and injuries as unacceptable.
Another UN inquiry disputed the blockade's legality. Neither report was an international court judgment.
My article criticized Ankara's handling of the incident and parts of the Turkish media coverage. I also opposed the Israeli military's conduct. But I was not going to conceal the Palmer Panel's conclusion on the blockade simply because it favored Israel.
I received death threats after publication.
People were entitled to dispute the report. There were legitimate legal arguments against its conclusions. What disturbed me was the assumption that presenting a finding favorable to Israel meant supporting Israel.
I had political opinions then, as I do now. Why should those opinions determine which parts of a document I could acknowledge?
The experience stayed with me, especially when I hear politicians invoking universal values.
Some people defend judicial independence, freedom of expression and human rights out of conviction. I know they exist, although experience has made me doubtful that they are particularly numerous.
Others have discovered that invoking democracy can lend moral authority to an otherwise familiar struggle for power.
The motives are not always separate. A partisan cause can also be principled. Someone who begins defending a right because their own side needs it may eventually recognize its importance for everyone.
Others never reach that point. They demand protection for their allies and find reasons to deny it to their opponents.
I am equally wary of describing democracy and the rule of law simply as Western values.
European legal institutions have offered people in Türkiye protection against abuses of state power. Among them is the European Court of Human Rights, which belongs to the Council of Europe, not the EU. Yet European governments have repeatedly compromised their professed principles when political interests intervened.
Democracy and the rule of law do not belong to Europe.
An Israeli can distrust Brussels' policies toward Israel while defending judicial independence. A Turk can oppose European interference while demanding an independent court. Neither has to surrender those convictions to remain critical of European politics.
But political loyalty can have a way of deciding who deserves protection and who does not.
This is where the Israeli survey becomes interesting to me again.
Europe occupies an awkward place in the domestic politics of both countries. In one dispute, it represents unwanted foreign influence. In another, its institutions provide a reference for challenging government power. For someone unwilling to identify with either political camp, an appeal to the law may be easier than choosing a party.
Even the same political movement can reject Europe's authority on one issue and invoke its principles on another.
I suspect polarization contributes to these contradictions, although the surveys cannot establish how much. And I would be reluctant to draw a sweeping comparison between two countries with such different histories, institutions and political circumstances, particularly while their governments are confronting one another over Gaza.
Yet I recognize something familiar in both societies: the pressure to place political loyalty ahead of principle, even among those who speak most confidently about democracy and the rule of law.
I still remember the reaction to my article in 2011.
The Palmer Report contained a conclusion favorable to Israel's legal position and another sharply critical of its military conduct. I reported both.
Fifteen years later, I still find it strange that reporting both required an explanation.
Sources: Hebrew University-European Forum Barometer, Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, Eurobarometer, European External Action Service, United Nations Palmer Report and Human Rights Council inquiry, Associated Press, Odatv, Bosphorus News review and reporting.