Rethinking the Narrative of Turkey’s July 15 Events: An Intelligence Operation Disguised as a Coup Attempt
Questioning the Consensus
Academia, think tanks, and international media have largely adopted the Turkish government’s narrative that the events of July 15, 2016, constituted a failed coup attempt. This dominant framing has shaped policy responses and scholarly interpretations despite the authoritarian context in which it was crafted. Many Turkish and Western scholars accepted the Turkish government’s narrative that the July 15 events were a failed coup attempt. They often rely on surface-level indicators and official statements without critically engaging with available evidence. Also, they disregarded substantial evidence and defendants’ statements in judicial proceedings that directly contradict official statements. One notable exception to this widespread acceptance of the government’s narrative is Jonathan Powell’s analysis in the Washington Post’s Monkey Cage blog, which challenged the standard framing and raised concerns regarding the peculiarities. However, most scholars and commentators—including many Turkish academics—have largely accepted the official version. This prevailing consensus, despite isolated dissenting voices, underscores the need for a more critical reassessment.
Such uncritical adoption of an official narrative raises a fundamental question: should we take the word of an increasingly authoritarian regime at its face value, especially in interpreting high-stakes national security incidents? Turkey in 2016 was already well on its way to dismantling rule-of-law institutions, and accepting its account of July 15 without rigorous empirical scrutiny has had dangerous consequences. It allowed for sweeping purges, mass arrests, and the rapid erosion of democratic oversight.
Evidence from Before July 15
First, several facts contradict the traditional markers of an imminent coup. First, the economic and political context does not match typical coup preconditions. Economic indicators in 2016 did not signal a crisis. According to World Bank data, Turkey’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP) growth rate was 3.3%, inflation remained at around 7.8%, and unemployment hovered around 10.9%—figures not indicative of severe economic turmoil. Additionally, public opinion polls from early 2016 showed that President Erdogan retained significant support, especially among conservative and nationalist constituencies. His ruling party, the Justice and Development Party (AKP), had won almost 49% of the votes in the November 2015 elections. This relatively stable economic and political environment contrasts with typical coup scenarios, which tend to occur amid pronounced instability, governance failures, or plummeting public approval.
Second, staging a military coup requires extensive collaboration and trust among conspirators. However, the trials and investigation processes related to the July 15 cases have failed to produce any evidence of coordination or planning by the soldiers accused of the coup that could indicate a preparatory phase for such a coup in the months—or even one to two years—preceding the event. A piece of evidence supporting this claim is that so far, no written plan has been found regarding the coup attempt that took place on July 15. There are more than 40 court cases opened in relation to 7/15, but not a single indictment includes a written coup plan. However, in previous coups, for instance, the September 12, 1980 coup, there was a written plan called the Flag Operation Plan. Its preparation took months, and in the final stage, 12 copies were made and delivered to the force commands by courier.
Third, there was little in the way of civil-military crisis or friction in the months preceding July 15. Unlike traditional coup cases that follow major confrontations between civilian leaders and military brass, Turkey showed no such signs. There were no major leadership reshuffles, budget crises, or significant defense policy disputes.
Evidence from the Night of July 15
What transpired during the events of July 15 is inconsistent with conventional coup practices. Most notably, the military units that were mobilized took inexplicably self-defeating actions. For example, they allegedly bombed the Turkish parliament and flew jets low over Istanbul—moves that alienated the public rather than garnering popular support. More importantly, there were no systematic and synchronized actions to remove the government from power except for an uncoordinated and poorly performed attempt towards a few government members, including President Erdogan himself.
Similarly, the so-called putschists closed only one direction of the Bosphorus Bridge. Strategically, this makes no sense if the goal was to control movement or create chaos. Even more puzzling was the attempt on Prime Minister Binali Yildirim’s life. Classic coup behavior generally avoids lethal force against top political leaders; rather, the aim is often to detain and delegitimize them.
Before delving further into the inconsistencies of the night itself, it is crucial to address one of the central narratives employed by the Turkish government in legitimizing its response to July 15: the claim that 251 people were killed (or martyred in regime parlance) by coup-plotting soldiers. This figure has been central to the government’s portrayal of the night as a democratic victory over a violent insurrection. However, growing evidence challenges this official martyrdom narrative. At least 71 legal cases concerning these deaths concluded that soldiers were not responsible for the killings. Some of the deaths were reportedly caused by unrelated factors such as heart attacks, traffic accidents, or unidentified gunfire. For instance, Şener Dursun, labeled a ‘coup martyr’ by pro-government media after his death on the night of July 15, was later found through forensic reports to have died of a heart attack—a conclusion formally accepted by Ankara’s 17th High Criminal Court.
Beyond the people who died of different reasons, the forensic evidence gathered from some of the victims indicates that the bullets extracted from the victims’ bodies did not match the weapons used by the accused soldiers. According to the forensic report (ANK-BLS-19-09077) prepared to identify who fired the bullets that killed Ümit Çoban, Medet Ekizceli, and Rüstem Resul Perçin, the bullets recovered from their bodies did not match the weapons used by the defendants. All firearms were collected and subjected to ballistic analysis, but the bullets found in the victims were not fired from those weapons. Furthermore, some of the bullets extracted from the victims’ bodies are not even used by the Turkish Armed Forces. For example, according to the autopsy reports included in the court file, armor-piercing steel bullet cores were extracted from the bodies of three civilians, Mustafa Avcu, Yakup Başıbüyük, and Ömer Takdemir, but the use of 9 mm steel-core bullets is prohibited for NATO military personnel, and such ammunition is not available within military units in the Turkish military.
Although some of the officers accused and indicted demanded a forensic analysis of the bullets, these requests were rejected by the courts. This undermines the claim that these deaths were the direct result of a military attempt to overthrow the government and raises critical questions about who was responsible for the bloodshed that night. In this context, the claim of 251 martyrs may represent another component of a carefully crafted narrative designed to justify the purges and emergency measures that followed.
These acts appear more symbolic and performative than operationally effective—a hallmark of psychological operations. They produced images of chaos and terror without a clear plan to seize and hold power. Crucially, no concrete or detailed coup plan has ever been uncovered or made public, further casting doubt on the idea that this was a coordinated and serious coup attempt. Meanwhile, President Erdogan was able to broadcast live on FaceTime and call his supporters to the streets. For an alleged large-scale coup, the lack of communication disruption and the apparent coordination failure are deeply suspected.
Evidence from the Aftermath
In the immediate aftermath of the July 15 events, the government fired over 2,700 judges overnight—an action that raises serious questions about the supposed spontaneity of the coup. The speed and scale of these purges suggest that lists were prepared well in advance.
Moreover, the swift declaration of a state of emergency allowed the Erdogan government to rule by decree and enact sweeping changes across the bureaucracy, military, and media. Thousands of civil servants, journalists, academics, and officers were detained or dismissed. This response was notably different from how other countries reacted to failed coup attempts. The Erdogan government’s rapid and expansive measures—especially the firing of over 2,700 judges—suggest a premeditated script rather than an improvised crisis response, reinforcing the argument that the July 15 event functioned as a pretext for a broader authoritarian consolidation. For instance, Spain’s failed coup attempt in 1981 did not result in emergency decrees or mass judicial purges. Instead, democratic institutions functioned as intended, with coup leaders prosecuted through existing legal channels. Similarly, other failed coup attempts, such as the 1989 failed coup in the Philippines or the 1992 failed coup attempt in Venezuela, also did not result in sweeping institutional overhauls or pre-prepared purges. These examples highlight how democratic or semi-democratic states typically respond to failed coups through institutional mechanisms rather than using them as pretexts for authoritarian consolidation.
Notably, key figures who should have provided critical information to the public and investigative bodies remained silent. In addition to President Erdogan himself, both Hulusi Akar, the Chief of General Staff at the time, and Hakan Fidan, the head of the National Intelligence Organization (MIT), refused to appear before the parliamentary commission established to investigate the July 15 events. This commission, created explicitly to uncover the truth behind the coup attempt, repeatedly summoned Akar and Fidan, yet both declined to testify. They were also absent from the court sessions during the coup attempt trials. Their absence raises significant concerns. Normally, officials who have nothing to hide—and who represent the state apparatus allegedly victimized by a coup—would be expected to offer full transparency. Their refusal to participate suggests a deliberate effort to avoid judicial scrutiny and further reinforces the perception that the official narrative is incomplete or manipulated.
These reactions align more closely with a pre-planned operation to consolidate executive power than with the chaotic aftermath of a genuine coup attempt. The use of the event as justification for mass repression strongly supports the thesis that July 15 was orchestrated as an intelligence operation aimed at entrapment and narrative control. This interpretation is not without precedent; former Turkish MIT chief Mehmet Eymür himself described the event as “a derailed MIT operation”, indicating that even high-level insiders saw the operation as an intelligence-led maneuver rather than a genuine coup attempt.
Toward a New Interpretation and Policy Outlook
We argue that July 15 was not a conventional military coup but rather a carefully orchestrated intelligence and counterintelligence operation. Intelligence operations involve covert activities by state agencies to manipulate events or neutralize threats, while counterintelligence focuses on detecting and disrupting internal subversion—often through disinformation, infiltration, or false-flag tactics. The July 15 incident fits this profile: it featured performative military actions, a lack of strategic logic, and was followed by immediate, massive purges of civil servants and judges whose names appeared on pre-prepared lists. These elements suggest an operation designed to entrap suspected dissidents within the state and military.
A comparable example is the 1999 Russian apartment bombings, widely suspected of being a false-flag operation by the FSB to justify war in Chechnya and elevate Vladimir Putin (Satter, 2016). Similarly, the 1980 Nojeh Coup Plot in Iran was used by the Islamic Republic to purge opposition within the armed forces. These cases demonstrate how authoritarian regimes weaponize internal security incidents to reinforce executive power under the guise of defending democracy.
Such a thesis aligns with our understanding of how authoritarian regimes deploy deception through information control and false-flag operations. Historical examples—such as the Reichstag Fire in Nazi Germany or the 1999 apartment bombings in Russia—demonstrate how staged incidents can be used to justify sweeping crackdowns. In the Turkish case, several pro-government media outlets began broadcasting the ‘Gulenist coup’ narrative —referring to M. Fethullah Gülen, a self-exiled cleric who recently died in the United States, and to his movement — even before key events on the night of July 15 had fully unfolded, suggesting a pre-scripted media strategy. The coordinated use of symbolic violence, targeted disinformation, and prepared lists for mass purges reflects the hallmarks of a centrally orchestrated campaign—not the disjointed improvisation of a genuine military coup.
Accepting the Turkish government’s version of events without challenge has led to misguided policy responses, including U.S. and European complicity in Ankara’s post-coup purges. This commentary offers an alternative interpretation grounded in evidence, supported by a growing body of empirical anomalies. The authors of this piece call for policymakers, scholars, and international media to re-evaluate the framework through which they interpret such crises in hybrid regimes.
