Visa applications to Turkey have plummeted 42%. Indian shoppers can no longer buy Turkish chocolates at their corner stores. Airlines are canceling routes, and Bollywood has banned filming in Istanbul. “If we sell one, we buy six from India,” declared a Turkish exporter to the hardline newspaper Yeni Akit. “If we reciprocate, it is not us who suffers, but India.”
This confident arithmetic captures the delusional thinking that passes for economic analysis in Ankara these days. India is boycotting Turkey, and the boycott is gaining momentum. This follows Erdogan’s theatrical embrace of Pakistan during Operation Sindoor. Both sides are spinning numbers like desperate accountants before an audit. The central question isn’t whether India’s boycott will damage Turkey’s economy. It is whether either country grasps the real cost of weaponizing commerce in an interconnected world.
Turkey’s Mathematical Mirage
Turkish officials have convinced themselves they hold all the leverage. Their reasoning sounds plausible at first glance: Turkey exported only $1.3 billion to India while importing $6.4 billion, creating a trade deficit of roughly $5 billion in India’s favor. Conservative Islamic newspaper Yeni Akit quoted trade experts. They claimed that most products imported from India can easily be substituted through domestic production. Alternatively, they can be sourced from alternative suppliers.
The tourism sector tells a different story. Those dismissed 330,000 Indian tourists represent between $350-470 million in annual revenue—money now flowing to competitors like Greece and Armenia. Turkish media outlets, slavishly loyal to Erdogan’s narrative, dismiss this as insignificant since Indians comprised only 0.5% of Turkey’s 62 million visitors in 2024.
This percentage game misses the forest for the trees. India represents the world’s fastest-growing outbound tourism market. Turkey’s marble industry supplies 70% of India’s imports, worth roughly $300-360 million annually. Turkish apple exports to India, valued at $120-144 million, are already being replaced by Iranian and New Zealand suppliers. The Indian government revoked security clearances for Turkish aviation firm Celebi, eliminating a key operational partner at major airports.
Turkish exporters remain remarkably sanguine, insisting that India represents only 0.5% of Turkey’s total exports. This confidence reflects a country that has grown dangerously comfortable burning bridges to the future. India’s $3.7 trillion economy grows at 6-7% annually while Turkey struggles with 60% inflation and currency instability. Alienating one of the world’s most promising consumer markets is a strategic error. It prioritizes solidarity with economically dysfunctional Pakistan over elementary strategic interests.
India’s Selective Outrage
India’s boycott enthusiasm exposes equally glaring contradictions. Harsh Mariwala is the Chairman of consumer products company Marico. He cut straight to the hypocrisy: “we cannot be selective” when China’s backing of Pakistan is well-documented.
Why target Turkey’s modest $2.7 billion trade relationship while maintaining massive commercial ties with China? The answer lies in the psychology of achievable victories. China-India trade approaches $125 billion annually despite border conflicts and ongoing tensions. Chinese smartphones, manufacturing inputs, and industrial components are deeply embedded in India’s economy. A serious boycott would inflict greater damage on Mumbai than on Beijing.
Turkey offers the perfect target for nationalist theater without genuine sacrifice. The All India Consumer Products Distributors Federation supplies 13 million mom-and-pop grocery stores. It launched an “indefinite and total boycott.” This boycott affects $234 million in food products. Apparel imports totaled just $81 million last year. These numbers allow Indian politicians to appear tough while asking consumers to sacrifice relatively little.
This contradiction undermines India’s moral authority. If the principle involves punishing countries that support Pakistan, then consideration must be given. China’s decades-long military and economic assistance to Islamabad dwarfs Turkey’s recent drone deliveries. But Beijing’s economic leverage makes it untouchable, while Turkey provides convenient moral theater.
When Drones Change Everything
The boycott’s trigger wasn’t just diplomatic posturing but concrete military cooperation. Turkey supplied Pakistan with approximately 350 Songar drones. They also provided military advisors. Some were used against Indian targets during active hostilities after the Pahalgam attack that killed 26 civilians on April 22.
This transforms the dispute from trade politics into legitimate security concerns. China’s historical support for Pakistan’s nuclear program was conducted through deniable channels and state agreements. In contrast, Turkey supplied drones that were used directly against Indian forces during Operation Sindoor in May.
Defenders of Turkey’s position argue that arms sales represent legitimate commerce, not political statements. Every major exporter sells weapons that eventually get used in conflicts they don’t directly support. Turkey’s defense industry contributes over $5 billion annually to exports, making it increasingly important to the economy.
But selling weapons to a country actively fighting your potential economic partner represents either strategic blindness or deliberate provocation. Turkey’s decision to continue drone deliveries during Indo-Pakistani hostilities sent an unmistakable message about Ankara’s priorities.
Corporate Virtue Signaling
Major Indian companies rushed to demonstrate patriotic credentials with calculated political gestures. Reliance-owned Ajio and Flipkart-owned Myntra suspended sales of Turkish apparel brands including Trendyol, Koton, Mavi, and LC Waikiki. Flipkart halted flight, hotel and holiday bookings to Turkey “in solidarity with India’s national interest and sovereignty.”
The speed and coordination of these decisions suggests prior consultation with government officials, transforming private commerce into public diplomacy. Are companies genuinely concerned about national security, or performing patriotism to curry favor with Modi’s government?
The selective nature of corporate nationalism raises uncomfortable questions. Many of these companies maintain extensive operations in China. They also have partnerships with firms from countries with questionable human rights records. The Turkish boycott becomes convenient moral theater precisely because it requires minimal actual sacrifice.
Even academic institutions joined the performance. Jawaharlal Nehru University, Jamia Millia Islamia, and Maulana Azad National Urdu University suspended agreements with Turkish institutions. They cited national security concerns. JNU described its decision to end ties with Inonu University as reflecting “national sentiment in isolating Ankara.”
The Azerbaijan Expansion
India’s boycott expanded beyond Turkey to include Azerbaijan, revealing both the movement’s broader ambitions and strategic incoherence. Azerbaijan provided diplomatic support to Pakistan and attracted 243,000 Indian tourists in 2024, representing 13% of its total arrivals.
But if supporting Pakistan diplomatically merits economic punishment, India’s boycott list should logically include dozens of countries. Most of the Islamic world expressed solidarity with Pakistan during the recent crisis. This expansion creates practical complications: India exports $27.8 million worth of pharmaceutical products including vaccines to Azerbaijan. Cutting these ties could harm Indian companies while limiting access to essential medicines.
The government maintained careful positioning throughout, avoiding official endorsement while benefiting from nationalist enthusiasm. India hasn’t ordered companies to boycott Turkey, allowing the Modi administration plausible deniability for eventual reconciliation. This sophisticated political management lets the government benefit domestically from anti-Turkish sentiment while maintaining diplomatic flexibility and avoiding WTO complications.
Historical Lessons Ignored
India’s Turkish boycott follows the playbook established during the 2020 border crisis with China. Consumer nationalism surged in response to military tensions, leading to app bans, import restrictions, and public campaigns. The initial impact significantly disrupted Chinese tech companies, particularly TikTok. Major Indian firms reduced Chinese partnerships and sourced alternative suppliers.
The long-term outcome? Trade volumes gradually recovered as economic reality trumped political theater. Despite years of border tensions and ongoing strategic competition, India-China trade has largely normalized because both economies need each other.
The key difference: China’s economy could absorb India’s boycott pressure due to its size and diversification. Turkey’s smaller, more vulnerable economy might suffer lasting damage from sustained Indian pressure. The question becomes whether Turkey offers enough economic value to India to eventually overcome current political tensions.
Global Fragmentation
This boycott represents something larger than bilateral tensions. “Backlash against Turkey and Azerbaijan reflects a growing wave of consumer-driven diplomacy,” observed Robinder Sachdev of the Imagindia Institute. Economic nationalism increasingly replaces traditional diplomacy as the primary tool of international pressure.
The trend carries significant risks for the global economy. If consumer boycotts become routine responses to geopolitical tensions, international commerce could fragment. These competing blocs would form based on political alignment rather than economic efficiency. Turkey’s experience is an example of this fragmented future. Countries find themselves economically isolated. This is due to the accumulation of consumer nationalism across multiple markets.
For middle powers like Turkey, this represents an existential challenge to export-dependent growth models. The European angle adds another layer. Greek social media users have seized on the boycott as evidence of Turkish tourism industry panic. They are encouraging holidaymakers to choose Greece as a “more stalwart ally of India.”
The Pyrrhic Victory
Who’s really suffering from this boycott? Turkey’s immediate losses are more visible. There is a 42% drop in visa applications. A 22% cancellation rate for Turkey-bound trips is reported by EaseMyTrip. Additionally, there are severed corporate partnerships across multiple sectors. The reputational damage in one of the world’s fastest-growing consumer markets compounds these immediate costs.
India’s costs are subtler but potentially significant. Turkish and Indian FDI in each other’s markets ranges between $126-200 million respectively. These are moderate figures that limit systemic exposure. They also represent lost opportunities. India sacrifices potential partnerships in Central Asian energy markets and reduced leverage against Chinese influence in the Islamic world.
The strategic verdict is clear: both countries damage long-term interests for short-term political theater. Turkey loses access to India’s growing consumer market precisely when its economy needs diversification. India loses a potential partner in balancing Chinese influence across Central Asia and the Middle East.
Most critically, both sides set dangerous precedents. If economic relationships become hostage to every diplomatic disagreement, the foundation of global commerce—predictability and mutual benefit—erodes. Today’s Turkish boycott sets a precedent for economic warfare. This creates a world where trade depends more on political alignment than economic logic.
The uncomfortable truth is that boycotts reveal more about the boycotters than their targets. India’s selective outrage and Turkey’s delusional confidence both mask deeper insecurities about their place in a rapidly changing global order. In an interconnected world, economic nationalism often inflicts the deepest wounds on those who wield it most enthusiastically.
The question facing both Delhi and Ankara isn’t who will suffer more from this boycott. It’s whether either country understands that, in the modern economy, burning bridges rarely leads anywhere except isolation.