On January 26 of this year, U.S. President Donald Trump surprised the world by announcing a plan to transfer Gazans from the Strip to other countries such as Jordan, Egypt, Morocco, Somaliland, and Puntland. Whether this plan succeeds, the idea will be remembered as a creative, out-of-the-box approach.
Until today, the destruction caused by recurring rounds of fighting, followed by attempts at reconstruction, has failed to change the perspective of Hamas and the Palestinians. It seems, therefore, that the U.S. president has fully embraced the famous quote attributed to Albert Einstein: “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”
As a staunch realist, the U.S. president has understood and internalized that returning to the Middle East on October 6 is impossible. Moreover, he has realized that the required outcomes cannot be achieved within the existing framework of political correctness. Thus, as a statesman well aware of his country’s power, Trump has decided to take matters into his own hands and fundamentally change the game’s rules.
Undoubtedly, Trump’s statement presents a historic opportunity for Israel. If the Israeli government manages to leverage American support alongside a determined effort to achieve the war’s objectives—namely, the return of the hostages and the destruction of Hamas—then we may secure a long-term strategic advantage. In other words, Israel and the U.S. could eliminate a threat that not only undermines Israel’s security but also serves as an obstacle to regional peace with moderate Arab states such as Saudi Arabia.
Transfer or Forced Deportation?
Unsurprisingly, the idea of transfer is not welcomed in the Arab and Muslim world. Due to the lingering memory of the 1948 Nakba, no Arab country—especially not Jordan or Egypt—can accept the drastic change proposed by Trump. However, please make no mistake: the Nakba is not the only reason for their opposition. Both Jordan and Egypt prefer to see Israel exhausting its resources and energy in Gaza. In other words, both Cairo and Amman benefit from watching Israel trapped in an endless war against a terrorist organization. It is crystal clear that the moment Israel manages to free itself from Gaza’s negative impact on its security and economy, it will become significantly stronger—more potent than ever before.
Similar concerns have also made waves in Turkey. As a country that has pursued a pro-Hamas policy since the start of the war, Ankara’s adverse reaction to Trump’s plan was to be expected. In various public appearances, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan rejected Trump’s transfer plan, stating that it was not even worthy of discussion. However, to cool tensions with his American counterpart and to avoid appearing overly pro-Hamas in Washington’s eyes, Erdoğan emphasized the territorial integrity of the Palestinian Authority when referring to Gaza, the West Bank, and East Jerusalem—describing them as integral parts of the Palestinian Authority. Thus, indirectly, without explicitly mentioning Israel, the Turkish president once again called for the adoption of a two-state solution.
Like President Erdoğan, Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan also took an oppositional stance against Trump’s plan. In a press conference, Fidan stated that he opposed any measure that would “contribute to the continuation of genocide, expulsion, and the isolation of the Palestinians.” Yet, while both the president and the minister appear deeply sensitive to the fate of the Palestinian people, Turkish history tells a different story when it comes to the forced displacement of populations.
Ironically, in his statement, the Turkish foreign minister placed particular emphasis on the “expulsion” of Palestinians from Gaza. However, fate would have it that he used the problematic Ottoman term Tehcir (forced deportation). In Turkish history, Tehcir has a much deeper and more highly problematic meaning. Today, this term is known in the historical lexicon of the Ottoman Empire as referring to the Armenian Genocide of 1915.
Ironically, even Turks who deny the scale of the genocide or attempt to downplay it still refer to this event using the same term—Tehcir, or “forced deportation.” The very term chosen by the empire indicates that there is no dispute over the decision to forcibly remove the Armenians from Anatolia to the depths of Syria. The conflict between Armenians and Turks arises mainly regarding the consequences of this decision.
According to the Armenian perspective, around 1.5 million Armenian citizens of the Ottoman Empire perished in death marches, concentration camps, or through other methods. In contrast, Turkey adopts an entirely different narrative, arguing that this was not genocide but merely a transfer of the Armenian population from the heart of the empire—namely, Anatolia—to its backyard, the Deir ez-Zor region in Syria.
Even the Turkish version acknowledges that “unfortunate incidents” led to civilian deaths. However, from this Turkish perspective, the deaths of Armenians were normalized due to “wartime conditions” and the “armed resistance of Armenian gangs collaborating with the Russian enemy.” Either way, even in the narrative of those who deny the Armenian Genocide, the concept of “forced deportation”—that is, transfer—undeniably exists in Ottoman history.
The Cypriot Calm
Turkish history is generous enough to provide additional examples—some even more successful. The year is 1923. Following the Turkish War of Independence (1919–1922), the Treaty of Lausanne was signed between the newly established Turkish Republic and the Allied Powers, including Greece. As an annex to this treaty, Turkey and Greece signed a protocol that led to a population exchange between the two nations. Although other countries were involved, the Turkish War of Independence was primarily fought against Greece, severely damaging trust between both states’ populations.
Under the agreement, every Greek Orthodox Christian living in western, central, or northern Anatolia was sent to Greece. In contrast, every Turk or Muslim citizen of different ethnic backgrounds was sent to Turkey. The only exceptions were Greeks in Istanbul and Turks in Western Thrace, Greece, specifically in Komotini and Xanthi.
It is important to emphasize that the citizens were not consulted; no referendums were held. The governments made the decisions, and the populations complied. As a result, approximately 1.2 million Greeks migrated to Greece, while about 500,000 Turks and other Muslim minorities moved to Turkey. This decision was undoubtedly painful for both sides, as they had to abandon their lands, homes, churches, and mosques. However, the strict separation of populations prevented further hostility by severing communal ties between the majority and minority groups. Today, these wounds have healed thanks to the absence of violence between the two sides and the resolution of refugee status within a single generation.
Some might argue that the success of the 1923 transfer was due to the mutual agreement between the two governments. However, as demonstrated in Cyprus, Turkish history proves that consent is unnecessary for a successful transfer.
In 1974, following a Greek-led coup aiming to annex the island to Greece, Turkey decided to intervene militarily, citing the 1959 Zurich Agreements, which granted Turkey (alongside Greece and Britain) the right to intervene to preserve the island’s status quo.
On July 20, 1974, Turkey invaded northern Cyprus. Two days later, due to international pressure, the first phase of the operation ended, and peace talks began. However, on August 14, Turkey unilaterally abandoned the negotiations and launched the second phase of the invasion. Although Turkey lost international legitimacy, it succeeded militarily, capturing 37% of the island.
To solidify its victory, Turkey once again implemented a transfer—this time without the other side’s consent. Around 160,000 Greek Cypriots were forced to migrate south, while 45,000 Turkish Cypriots moved north as refugees. Turkey did not hold a referendum or seek approval—it made a decision and carried it out. The result? Since 1974, there have been only two violent incidents on the island, resulting in two Greek Cypriot deaths.
It is worth noting that, fortunately for both the Turks and the Greek Cypriots, neither side dug tunnels, launched rockets, carried out suicide bombings in cafés, perpetuated refugee status, or—perhaps most importantly—turned the conflict into a religious war.
True, the Cyprus question remains unresolved on paper. There are still cases in international courts concerning land ownership and compensation. However, a prolonged period of calm has been maintained thanks to the lack of interaction between the two communities. The absence of violence has helped to dull mutual hostility, and today, Turkish and Greek Cypriots do not view each other with the same animosity that Israelis and Palestinians do.
In light of all this, the statements by President Erdoğan and his foreign minister reflect Turkey’s double standards. When it serves Turkish interests, and the transferred population is not Muslim, anything is permissible. However, when the situation is reversed and a Muslim population is involved for Israel’s benefit, Ankara’s stance is predictably confrontational. Even if history screams irony, when it comes to Israel, Turkey continues to ignore its past while preaching morality to a country that was attacked by a murderous terrorist organization within its internationally recognized sovereign borders.
Israel must not return to the reality before October 7. A historic shift has occurred, and Israel must seize this opportunity to reshape the equation permanently. The momentum must be utilized, and Jerusalem must establish facts. After securing the hostages, Israel must eradicate Hamas and fulfill the vision set forth by the U.S. president. If transfers work in Turkish hands, why shouldn’t they work in Israeli-American hands?
