“Someone said, oh, you look like Steve Bannon, and I love you for that… No, I just shaved my hair and lost some pounds.” — Kaya Genç on Trumpism’s global fanbase

The NATO circus rumbled into the Turkish capital of Ankara this week resembling more of a gun show than an alliance summit. Ringmaster Donald J. Trump promised Recep Tayyip Erdoğan the F-35s and lifted the very sanctions that Trump himself had imposed. Erdogan handed out pistols to the assembled leaders — with poor old Keir Starmer (no Winston Churchill) leaving his at the airport. And observing all these clowns from Istanbul was the Turkish novelist and essayist Kaya Genç.

As a contributor to the anthology How We See It: The World Looks at America in the Age of Trump, Genç is a keen America watcher. He first set foot in the United States in January 2017, stumbling into New York City’s protests against Trump 1.0’s Muslim-ban. What seemed temporary — Trump as a bizarre historical aberration — looked to Erdogan-literate Kaya Genç like an operating manual for 21st century populist authoritarianism.

Turkey, Genç argues, has spent a century Americanizing itself. First with the 20th century Marshall Plan, the highways, the Hilton hotels, and finally an American-style executive presidency operating on the politics of referendum. Now, he says, the whole world — from Turkey to France and Britain — is living with the consequences of 21st century Americanization.

Like a more functional NATO, right-wing populists operate like an international alliance. Erdogan, Trump, Meloni, Le Pen and Farage are like a club in which projecting strength at summits buys impunity at home. And this club has a house style. Turkish right-wing columnists, Genç reports, deploy Michael Corleone on their X banners — exactly David Thomson’s warning earlier this week about Hollywood’s glorification of on-screen violence.

So, in a way, America observers like Kaya Genç got a sneak preview of Trump’s America in movies like The Godfather. First as cinema, then as life. From both Turkey and Russia with love.

Five Takeaways

• NATO: The Club of the Mighty. The night before the summit, activists were rounded up in Ankara — LGBTQ rights defenders, labor unionists, journalists — as threats to NATO security. In Turkish civil society, Genç explains, NATO doesn’t represent the liberal world order; it represents the mighty, and has since the writers of the 1960s. The summit itself was a military passion show: jets overhead, revolvers gifted among the attendees, and a host country whose ruling politicians no longer hide that arms exports — including the drones Ukraine used so effectively — are now the mission of the Turkish economy.

• Trump: A Star Among Right-Wing Voters Everywhere. In India, a chubbier, longer-haired Genç was once told: you look like Steve Bannon, and I love you for that. The Turkish media savaged Biden but forgives Trump everything — Netanyahu is the villain of the Turkish press, while Trump speaks the language. Not Turkish (though he tried a phrase): the language of the presidential system. The Turkish right’s America has always been selective — yes to the death penalty and gun ownership, no to labor rights, free expression, and the trans movement — an instinct as old as the poet Mehmet Akif Ersoy’s advice to copy Germany’s industriousness and leave out the decadence.

• Living the Consequences of Americanization. Turkey began its republic in the 1920s on the European model — parliament, proportional voices for an ethnically diverse country. After the Marshall Plan, it re-forged itself on the American one: highways, Hilton hotels, burger joints, and eventually an American-style executive presidency, approved by referendum over the objections of people like Genç. That’s why Trump 1.0 read so differently in the two countries: in New York it looked like an exception to be fought off; in Ankara it looked like how American politics works — and something to imitate.

• Populists Learn Like Large Language Models. Did Erdogan create the model, or is Trump teaching Erdogan? Neither, says Genç: it’s a dialogue — right-wing populism learning from itself the way AI learns from language models. The AKP ran a Gramscian culture war through the institutions; Meloni, Le Pen, and Farage apply the cosmetic soft brush that makes fascist-rooted politics presentable. Join the club, project strength at the summit, and whatever you do domestically stops mattering. Putin, notably, is not in the curriculum: Turkey is returning its S-400s to get the F-35s, and Russia is becoming a footnote.

• The Hologram and the Pushback. Ekrem Imamoglu — the Istanbul mayor Genç profiles in The Dial as the hologram candidate — won the city with socialist municipalism, and the skeptics who warned it would alienate the pious were simply wrong. Soft liberalism, the faith Genç himself held since the nineties, is disappearing; the pushback is finding its heroes in dead poets — Rosa Luxemburg, and Sevgi Soysal, whose novel Walking is out in English from New York Review Books. From Istanbul to Middle America, Mamdani to AOC, Genç’s advice to the left is the same: don’t fragment — conquer the big parties.

About the Guest

Kaya Genç is a novelist and essayist from Istanbul. He is the author of Under the Shadow: Rage and Revolution in Modern Turkey and The Lion and the Nightingale, and his writing appears in The Dial, The Guardian, Foreign Policy, Index on Censorship, and Jewish Quarterly. He is a contributor to How We See It: The World Looks at America in the Age of Trump (The New Press, June 2026), edited by The Dial’s Madeleine Schwartz.

References:

• How We See It: The World Looks at America in the Age of Trump, edited by Madeleine Schwartz (The New Press, June 2026). Publishers Weekly: “A much-needed reality check.”

• Madeleine Schwartz — founder and editor-in-chief of The Dial, editor of the anthology, and a recent guest on the show.

• Under the Shadow: Rage and Revolution in Modern Turkey — Genç’s account of Turkey’s political generation, published just after the 2016 coup attempt.

• Ece Temelkuran — the Turkish writer and recent guest whose How to Lose a Country globalized the Turkish case as a warning to democracies everywhere.

• Sevgi Soysal — the Turkish novelist who died at 40, whose Walking — a portrait of Ankara slowly killing itself for profit — is out in English from New York Review Books, reviewed by Genç.

• David Thomson — the film critic and recent guest whose argument that Trumpism grew from Hollywood’s lov...