Does ancient Semitic/Near Eastern/Mesopotamian religion share a common ancestor with Proto-Indo-European religion, did one grow out of the other, or is there no clear relationship between the two? How did they influence each other in the ancient world? For instance, it seems the Chaoskampf can be found in PIE (Vedic, Norse) and Near Eastern (Sumerian, Canaanite) religions. Also (if we can call these separate traditions), which camp does Greek mythology fall into?
Your question cannot be answered satisfactorily here, and in fact has been discussed, argued about, theorized upon for millennia. It is fraught with racism, privilege, notions of cultural supremacy, and all that jazz. And there is no satisfactory answer, even now. We can, however, note some basic observations.
First, as to whether there is a clear relationship between "Greek" religion and "Near Eastern" religion: the answer must be undeniably yes, there is. At a fundamental level, the systems share too many similarities to be coincidence: both employ cult images as representations of divinity on earth; store those cult images in temples, which are sanctified spaces which must be kept free of ritual pollutants; participate in ritual sacrifice of animals on altars at those temples, and pour out ritual libations in honor of the divinity; staff those temples with religious specialists; mark out space around those temples as sanctified in addition, thereby creating sanctuary precincts; engage in speech acts (hymn, song, poetry, etc) in relation to worship of the deity, and accompany those speech acts with ritual dance, and all of this during particular times of the month or year, set out for that purpose (festivals); more basically, both assign deities to regions/domains of the cosmos, envision them as male and female both, ascribe to the same basic notions of sanctity and ritual pollution.
The above list is not even exhaustive. One could find hundreds more little similarities, some surely coincidence, some certainly not. None of this is particularly new information, though our understanding of some Semitic practices has been greatly enhanced in the previous century by an explosion of interest in and excavation of Phoenician/Punic sites, especially in the western Mediterranean. In the 19th century, lists like the one above were fundamentally problematic, since the pervasive belief was in Greece as the leader and originator of culture, not an imitator. The Near East, meanwhile, was associated with barbarism, with Persians attacking flourishing democracy, with the hapless, inscrutable foe of the Christian crusades. It was associated with the "purple men" of antiquity, with Baal in the Bible. For a real taste of the history and controversy around this topic, see basically anything written by Bernal (Black Athena), and contra Lefkowitz, Not Out of Africa: How Afrocentrism Became an Excuse to Teach Myth as History 1996.
The Near East certainly played a role in the development of "Greek" religion. Not all of it, of course, and trying to stick one label on "Greek" religion is a mistake. Like the region known as Hellas itself, the religion is a hodgepodge of inputs, some of them PIE, some of them pre-Greek ("indigenous"), and some of them surely imported from the Near East. As an example of each: from PIE Greek religion certainly gets its basic pantheon: the sky god; the gods of liminal spaces (Hermes, Hekate, Persephone); deities related to fertility, the land, and crops; related to order and disorder (Athene; Hades); semi-divine heroes, monsters, and myth-making in general (though some PIE cultures pointedly lack iconic myth). All of these are fairly securely PIE, and even seem make their way into Near Eastern "religion" through exchanges much older than the Greeks, or even the Mycenaeans. Second, "pre-Greek" elements--my go-to example is Demeter, aka Damater, a goddess whose specific cult and associations cannot be fully encompassed by Greek or Near Eastern religion. We don't have to get to Walter Burkert's Great Mother, but there are many little tidbits that point to Demeter as a fertility goddess with deep, regional roots in central Greece that seem to predate her eventual "brothers" on Mount Olympos. But enough about that.
The Near Eastern elements: there are a few which are often parroted as almost certainly imports. Scapegoating--choosing a person (or object) and heaping up blame on them/it, at their/its expense but for the betterment of the community. Building on this: the concept of purification from ritual pollution. Sacrifice is not unique to Greece or the Near East, and the concept is common in many unrelated cultures, but for Greeks and "Near Eastern" religions, there is an interesting parallel but opposite tendency. I'll take a basic Greek notion of sacrifice vs a basic Phoenician notion: for the Greeks, the gods were capricious, not particularly hostile but not particularly helpful either. They are, in general, benign, especially if you are not an attractive, vulnerable nymph in the forest. Sometimes Poseidon shakes the earth or causes the seas to roil, but he usually has a reason, and doesn't do it just to sate his own sick pleasures. When a Greek makes a sacrifice, it is a business arrangement. He offers this, and quid pro quo for whatever it is he wants: a successful harvest, or some help mending an infected wound, or whatever. Not so with some of the Phoenician gods: Tanit, the female consort of the "sky god" equivalent, Baal Hammon, is a terrible, cruel, and unforgiving goddess. Her default state is not benign, but wrathful, hateful, anti-mortal (much like Hera, actually); when a Phoencian makes an offer to Tanit, it is to appease her temporarily, to distract her from her default hostility long enough for him to get a harvest done, or make the sea crossing safely. In both situations, the sacrifice is a means to an end, but from very different initial outlooks.
Another very basic locus of similarities is myth. There is a sort of Asiatic template for many myths, shared between Egypt, Anatolia, Mesopotamia, Syria, and the Levant/Canaan, and with that template a very long list of similarities, many of which find their way (seemingly) into Greek myth. The myth of the world-destroying flood, for instance, or the tableau of the Sky's penis being severed by a usurper. More basically, semi-diving heroes battling monstrous serpents. On the other hand, Greek practice was incredibly productive in mythmaking, especially aetiological mythmaking, and often generated completely different myths about the same subject (birth of Aphrodite, e.g.) from localities separated by only a few miles. Could communities so jealously creative and seemingly isolated also borrow heavily from places a world away? At the same time, at vastly different times? It is very hard to make assertions.
If most scholars accept these days that there is some Near Eastern influence on Greek "religion," it is still very unclear how or when that transmission occurred. Which transmissions are from simple contact, and which from deeper cultural ties and exchanges? As a Classicist this question and get one answer, and then ask a Near Eastern archaeologist for another. Modern scholarship can't even agree on what "influence" and "transmission" means.
In my opinion, even quantifying and categorizing "religion" is daunting, and especially for the Greeks. Every little watering hole in the Greek world was a kaleidoscope of inputs, most of which are so dim and distant that they can never be fully understood. The patron deity of Athens, Athena Polias, is such a complicated tangle of "pre-Greek," Mycenaean, Greek Archaic, "Near Eastern," and Greek Classical notions / myths/ rituals / beliefs that it makes the head spin. And we probably know more about Athena Polias, from top to bottom, than any other Greek deity, period. Then we should also problematize the term "Near Eastern," which has under its umbrella many different cultures, language groups, and historical epochs.
I've done a lot of complaining. There are more positive approaches, which people much smarter and better informed than me have championed fairly recently. The comparative method, in which generalizations can be (attempted to be) made about parallel practices. A narrow-field focus, which finds similarities in particular aspects and at particular times and attempts to get at them from every possible angle (Brown, Israel and Hellas, in three weighty volumes, e.g.). And the (dated but resurgent?) structuralist approach. Some have focused on the vehicles of transmission (the development of writing; warfare; trade; the movement of and co-habitation of displaced groups at places like Pithekoussai; foreign residence of craftsmen, philosophers, story-tellers; etc).
I could go on forever, and am doing that already. Hopefully I've suggested here that you can't really divide any of these into "camps," and while you can spot similarities, some superficial and some deep-rooted, it is very hard to make anything of them. I didn't even mention Roman religion, which makes this complicated picture even more messy, especially on the PIE side of things!