Hürjet to Spain: A Milestone That Demands Caution

IDEF 2025 Series – Instalment 5.

Independence in the defence industry is a long and winding road. It is not cheap. And on top of it all, you can lose it very quickly.

I’m old enough to remember that the second project Turkish Aerospace Industries (TAI) undertook in the late 1980s was the licensed production of CN-235 cargo planes. The aircraft was jointly developed by Spain’s CASA and Indonesia’s IPTN.

Turkey eventually became the largest operator of the CN-235. By October 1998, the country had placed orders for 52 transport-configured aircraft, and by the end of that year, an additional nine maritime patrol variants were added to the order book.

Fast-forward to 2025—27 years later—and the picture is quite different. Today, TAI is exporting not one but two different military aircraft: Hürjet to Spain, and Kaan to Indonesia.

At IDEF 2025, a major partnership agreement was signed between Turkish Aerospace and Airbus, one of Europe’s leading aerospace companies, to accelerate the export of the Hürjet advanced jet trainer to Spain. The agreement sets out each company’s role in Spain’s trainer jet procurement process and formalizes long-term cooperation between the two firms. Eventually, the Hürjet will replace the ageing F-5BM trainers in the Spanish Air Force.

This is not just a success story about the development of Turkey’s defence and aerospace industry. It’s also a reminder that a country’s domestic industrial capabilities—if not carefully preserved—can gradually be absorbed by others. And once they are gone, even building a basic platform can become impossible without foreign help.

Spain serves as a powerful example of this. It once had its own aircraft manufacturer: CASA (Construcciones Aeronáuticas SA). I won’t go into a full history of the company, but let me note that its basic jet trainer, the C-101, entered service with the Spanish Air Force in 1980. These C-101s are now being replaced—not by a new Spanish aircraft—but by the Swiss-made Pilatus PC-21.

For context: CASA was established in 1923 with initial government support. By 1992, the Spanish government held a 99.2% stake in the company. CASA was one of the founding members of the Airbus Consortium, which included France, Germany, and the UK. In 1999, CASA was absorbed into EADS (European Aeronautic Defence and Space Company), later restructured as Airbus Group, with divisions for civil and military aircraft and helicopters.

There are, of course, advantages to this kind of integration. Spain gained access to multinational projects like the Eurofighter Typhoon fighter plane, A400M Atlas military transport and various civilian Airbus airliners. But the flip side is strategic vulnerability. Spain no longer has an independent national aircraft industry and now relies on international partnerships even for its most basic training aircraft—like the PC-21 and, soon, the Turkish-built Hürjet.

Spain’s trajectory serves as both an inspiration and a cautionary tale. While its participation in pan-European defence and aerospace programs like Airbus and the A400M brought technological benefits and access to major markets, it came at the cost of strategic independence. Today, Spain relies on foreign platforms for even its basic and advanced trainer aircraft—an ironic twist for a country that once had its own proven manufacturing capability through CASA.

Turkey must take heed. While its recent achievements—such as the export of the Hürjet to Spain and the Kaan fighter jet to Indonesia—are significant milestones, they do not guarantee long-term industrial independence. Strategic autonomy can quickly be lost if national firms are absorbed into larger multinational structures without robust policy safeguards. Once production lines are closed, design offices dissolved, and R&D talent scattered, rebuilding these capabilities becomes exponentially more difficult.

This risk may be especially acute now. Given Türkiye’s economic challenges and renewed interest from cash-rich NATO countries in diversifying their supply chains, leading Turkish defense firms may soon become attractive targets for foreign mergers or outright acquisitions. Without a clear and protective industrial policy, Turkey may find itself repeating Spain’s trajectory—moving from a producer to a partner, and eventually to a customer.

Moreover, Turkey’s growing integration with Western and international supply chains—while essential for export success—makes it vulnerable to political and economic shifts beyond its control. Without continued investment in indigenous technologies, a clear industrial policy, and strategic discipline.

Now is the time to ask: will Turkey’s aerospace and defence industry become a permanent, sovereign fixture—or merely a temporary subcontractor to greater powers?