To its credit, Ankara did play a significant role in NATO’s operations in Libya by sending aircraft, frigates and other assets in 2011. But only on Erdogan’s terms: The Turks had an interest in seeing Libya’s Muslim Brotherhood – the group upon which the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) draws its ideological inspiration – emerge as the power broker in Tripoli.

Sure, there have been other smaller international operations. But the post-9/11 patrols of the Mediterranean Sea and patrols on the Red Sea to combat piracy off the coast of Somalia, or even the Turkish frigate now sailing with a NATO maritime group on a six-month stint, hardly change one uncomfortable fact: Turkey is not a reliable Western ally.

But Turkey’s lackluster record as an active NATO partner cannot be judged upon its military activity alone. After all, NATO has struggled to play a useful role in preserving world peace. The organization has been beset by chain-of-command problems that have made its operations less than effective for decades, to the point that few expect much from it any longer. The competing rules of engagement of the various militaries within the Afghanistan coalition introduced a new level of dysfunction.

But membership in NATO still holds significance. The alliance was designed to be an elite group of countries that stood for Western values. The NATO charter, set forth in 1949, holds that member states will protect one and all from attack at the hands of ideological foes. The Turkish Republic, founded and governed as an avowedly secular state, agreed to these terms in 1952, three years after NATO’s founding.

Of course, NATO was initially engineered to fight communism. But over the years, the threats to the international system have changed. The latest challenge is a jihadist ideology that fuels the Islamic State, but also al Qaeda and other terror groups and their state sponsors.

Yet, it has become clear that Turkey, once a bulwark of secularism in the Muslim world, is now ambivalent at best, and complicit at worst, about fighting these forces. The fact that the AKP is a splinter of the Muslim Brotherhood provides a good indication of its leanings. More troublingly, it is a champion of the Palestinian terrorist group Hamas and allows several of its senior figures to operate out of Turkey. It has failed consistently to uphold international standards on fighting terrorism finance, including the designation of al Qaeda figures on its own soil. It has been reluctant to even acknowledge that groups like the Nusra Front—which has pledged fealty to al Qaeda leader Ayman al-Zawahiri—are terrorist organizations. Its dangerously lax border policies have contributed to the rise of the Islamic State. And it has helped Iran, the leading state sponsor of terrorism in the world, evade sanctions at the height of the international community’s efforts to hinder its illicit nuclear program.

Tellingly, in September of last year, Ankara announced that it would purchase a missile-defense system from a Chinese company that was under U.S. sanctions for aiding Iran’s proliferation efforts. Intense U.S. and NATO pressure scuttled that deal. But other troubling Turkish policies continue unabated without a peep from the West.

The crisis in Kobane once again brings the challenge of Turkey into sharp relief. Despite the best efforts of Washington and other coalition members to bring Turkey along, it now appears clear: Turkey under the AKP is a lost cause. It is simply not a partner for NATO. Nor is it a partner in the fight against the Islamic State.