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"One must not tie a ship to a single anchor, nor life to a single hope."
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"He who commands the sea has command of everything."
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"Take courage, my heart: you have been through worse than this. Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this."
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The Dodecanese islands have always been coveted more than they were cherished. They rise out of the Aegean Sea, a beautiful yet treacherous landscape that has long intrigued and challenged those who sought to control them. Early sailors from Greece and Turkey, disoriented by the unpredictable winds and rugged coastlines, would often mistake one island for another, recording in their logs a landscape of rocky shores and hidden coves, praying for safe passage. The history of who first set foot on these islands is murky, with Greek and Turkish navigators alike laying claim to their discovery. For centuries, they have borne a multitude of names, reflecting the diverse cultures that passed through: the Sporades, the Dodecanese, and the Twelve Islands, among others. Greeks, Turks, and Italians all left their mark, with each wave of settlers and conquerors imbuing the islands with their traditions and legacies.
The first recorded plan to take and settle the Dodecanese was carried out by a Greek nationalist, eager to assert Greece's historical claim over these islands and to push back against Turkish influence in the region. Sailing from the mainland in the early 19th century, he formally claimed the islands in the name of Greece. Along with the historical and cultural ties Greece had to the region, this occupation forms the basis of modern Greek claims over the Dodecanese. The Greeks landed on Rhodes, the largest of the islands. The nationalist leader described it as "a land of ancient splendor, though worn by time and conflict." Despite the challenges, he and his group of settlers built a small fort and settlement, naming it after an ancient Greek hero, reviving old traditions, and laying down roots that would persist through the years.
Around the same time, the Ottoman Empire, aware of the Greek expedition, began to reinforce its presence in the region. Turkish forces landed on nearby islands, establishing outposts and fortifications to secure their control over the Aegean Sea. This escalation set the stage for the enduring and complex dispute between Greece and Turkey over the Dodecanese and the surrounding islands. This dispute continues to influence regional politics and national identities to this day.
The intense rivalry between Greece and Turkey over the Dodecanese and the Aegean islands has deep roots in the region's complex history. During the period of Ottoman decline and European expansion in the 18th and 19th centuries, both Greek and Turkish ambitions clashed over these strategic territories. The islands, nestled in the Aegean Sea, became the focus of intense interest from multiple powers, each seeking to control these valuable maritime crossroads. Under various treaties and agreements, including the Treaty of Küçük Kaynarca in 1774 and the Treaty of Berlin in 1878, the Ottoman Empire's control over these territories was acknowledged, but this did little to deter Greek aspirations. Greek nationalists, inspired by the Megali Idea—a vision of restoring the Byzantine Empire—coveted the Dodecanese as part of their cultural and historical patrimony. The Aegean islands, they argued, were integral to the rebirth of Hellenic civilization and needed to be liberated from Ottoman rule.
The first stirrings of a move toward independence from the Ottoman Empire occurred in Athens in 1821, during the Greek War of Independence, and as a result, the Ottoman authorities decided the following year to remove Turkish settlers from the Dodecanese and neighboring regions along the Aegean coast. The Dodecanese islands were now left largely abandoned, becoming a refuge for sailors and fishermen from various nations, with no other law but that administered by passing ships' captains. In 1830, following the establishment of the independent Kingdom of Greece, the Greek government sent a naval frigate to claim the islands as part of its post-Ottoman legacy. The commander informed the vessels stationed around Rhodes and other Dodecanese islands that all fishing and trade within the region fell under the jurisdiction of the Greek government. Successive attempts during the 1830s to assert this authority were met with resistance from the maritime community, which was largely composed of diverse ethnic groups, including Turks and Greeks, who had long operated with a degree of autonomy.
Nonetheless, Athens appointed its first governor for the Dodecanese in 1835, and by 1840, conditions had stabilized enough for another governor, Loukas Vernetos, to combine his administrative duties with substantial agricultural and trading interests on the islands. Vernetos also implemented measures to protect the local fish populations from overfishing, an issue that had threatened the region’s economy. The British consul in Smyrna, Woodbine Smyrniotis, felt compelled to uphold Britain’s old claim to influence in the Aegean, protesting Vernetos’s appointment, though taking no further action. Vernetos, determined to enforce Greek sovereignty, ordered the arrest of a Turkish vessel, the Hartia, for engaging in what he considered illegal fishing activities and confiscating some of its cargo. He sailed with the vessel to Athens to put its captain on trial. With encouragement from Smyrniotis, the Ottoman consul in the city protested this action, asserting that Turkish vessels had the right to operate freely in the Aegean, as the Ottoman Empire had never recognized Vernetos’s jurisdiction over the islands.
Fortuitously, the Ottoman consul had access to a Turkish warship, the Turgut Reis, which was dispatched to the Dodecanese to secure the return of confiscated goods, primarily fish and other trade items. Upon arriving at Rhodes, the reckless captain of the Turgut Reis, Captain Selim Pasha, not only recovered the confiscated goods but also dismantled Greek fortifications, destroyed their supplies, and sacked the local settlements. He then declared the islands "free of all governance" and sailed away. His actions were widely condemned as piracy. The aftermath of this incident led to recriminations between Constantinople and Athens over reparations for the damages caused by Vernetos’s and Selim Pasha’s actions, a dispute that would simmer for years. Meanwhile, the Greeks sent another governor to the islands, Ioannis Mestivieros, who, upon arrival, was tragically murdered by the remaining Greek settlers left behind by the Turkish assault, many of whom were disillusioned and desperate.
Alerted by Smyrniotis, the Hellenic Navy took its chance. On 2 January 1833, the Greeks returned to the Dodecanese with two warships, the Aegeus and Poseidon, under the command of Captain Ioannis Angelos. He had been instructed by the government in Athens to take and hold the islands for Greece. Angelos found Hasan Pasha, the commander of an Ottoman frigate while suppressing the rebels who had murdered Mestivieros. Angelos ordered him to lower the Ottoman flag and depart. Outgunned, Hasan Pasha was forced to leave, yet another officer departing the Dodecanese under a "protest" that likely lacked genuine conviction.
It took the Greeks another six months to hunt down a group of vagrant klephts who refused to accept Greek rule. One of them, a bandit named Antonis Rigas, was finally arrested and returned to Athens, where he has since been cast as a heroic Greek "guerilla." Except for brief Ottoman attempts to reclaim the islands, the Greeks have remained in possession of the Dodecanese ever since—though, for eight years after 1833, they did little to restore the rule of law that the Ottomans had been struggling to maintain before their expulsion.
However, the first serious attempt to assert control over the Dodecanese came in the early 20th century. In 1912, during the Italo-Turkish War, Italy seized the islands from the Ottoman Empire, and despite promises to return them, the islands remained under Italian control. This occupation laid the groundwork for Greece's subsequent claims and Italy's complex relationship with the region. At the same time, Turkish nationalists, spurred by the collapse of the Ottoman Empire and the rise of the Turkish Republic under Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, sought to reassert their sovereignty over the Aegean. For the Turks, the loss of these islands was seen as a humiliating concession, and they aimed to reverse it by any means necessary. The islands' strategic location, controlling the entrance to the Dardanelles and the Aegean Sea, made them vital to Turkey's security and maritime interests.
Greece's efforts to take control of the Dodecanese were met with stiff resistance. The Greek Navy attempted to establish a presence on the islands, but Turkish forces, well aware of the strategic implications, fortified their positions. The tension culminated in a series of confrontations, with both sides claiming the right to these lands based on historical precedent and strategic necessity. It was in this context that the islands became a symbol of national pride and identity for both Greeks and Turks. The Dodecanese, with their ancient ruins, Byzantine churches, and Ottoman mosques, embodied the long and intertwined histories of these two peoples. Control over these islands was not just about territory; it was about defining the future of the Aegean and the legacy of the region's past.
The dispute over the Dodecanese thus became a focal point of regional politics, drawing in European powers and heightening tensions between Greece and Turkey. The Greeks, emboldened by their victories in the Balkan Wars and their aspirations for a Greater Greece, saw the islands as an essential part of their national project. The Turks, on the other hand, viewed Greek ambitions as a direct threat to their sovereignty and sought to prevent any further erosion of their territorial integrity. This, therefore, is a testament to the enduring struggle between Greece and Turkey, a conflict shaped by geography, history, and the aspirations of two proud nations. As the islands continued to be a source of tension in the region, the legacy of this rivalry remains deeply embedded in the political and cultural landscapes of both countries.
It took only two years for Turkey to take decisive action against Greek efforts in the Aegean. In 1914, as the Ottoman Empire faced increasing challenges, the Turkish government, under the leadership of the determined Mustafa Kemal, later known as Atatürk, resolved to remove any Greek presence from the Dodecanese and other contested Aegean islands. The Ottoman navy, supported by a significant force of troops, was dispatched to assert Turkish control over these strategic territories. The Greek settlers on the islands, under the leadership of local commanders, found themselves overwhelmed by the superior Turkish forces, thereby forcing the Greek commanders to abandon their positions and retreat to mainland Greece. This retreat, however, was carried out under strong protest, with the Greeks claiming historical and cultural ties to the islands that they refused to relinquish.
Upon returning to Athens, the Greek government, led by Prime Minister Eleftherios Venizelos, faced immense pressure from the public and opposition parties. The Prime Minister had been inclined to seek a diplomatic solution but now found himself in a position where only extreme measures would quell the rising tide of nationalist sentiment. The Greek press and public clamored for action, demanding the restoration of Greek sovereignty over the islands. This led to the first major crisis over the Aegean islands between Greece and Turkey. The dispute was fueled by the domestic insecurities of both governments, with each side issuing threats of war. Diplomatic channels were strained as both nations sought to rally support from the Great Powers of Europe, each hoping to secure a favorable outcome. After a year of tense negotiations, an agreement was reached that allowed Greece to return to some of the Dodecanese islands, albeit temporarily, to "restore national honor." However, Turkey maintained its claim to sovereignty over the entire archipelago, asserting that Greece’s return was conditional upon a secret promise to eventually withdraw—a promise that had to be kept from the Greek public to avoid further unrest.
To downplay the importance of the islands and reduce public fervor, the Greek government commissioned several intellectuals and writers to produce pamphlets and articles that depicted the Dodecanese as remote, barren lands of little value. Despite this, a Greek expedition did indeed return to some of the islands, only to withdraw again a few years later. Before departing, the Greeks left behind plaques proclaiming the islands as the rightful territory of the Kingdom of Greece, much like the British had done with the Falklands. This symbolic gesture was meant to assert Greek claims even in the face of Turkish control. Turkey, however, remained firmly in control of most of the islands, and subsequent Greek governments, particularly during periods of turmoil, tacitly acknowledged Turkish sovereignty over the region. This uneasy status quo persisted until the collapse of the Ottoman Empire in the aftermath of World War I, setting the stage for the complex and ongoing disputes between Greece and Turkey over the Aegean and the Dodecanese.836Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6f04M1pZv4
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The Aegean islands and the Dodecanese were never of great strategic importance—certainly not before the advent of modern military technology. Yet from the moment they came under dispute, they seem to have embodied the national pride of whoever claimed them. All Turks are convinced that the Aegean islands, known to them as the "Ege Adaları," rightfully belong to Turkey and were seized inappropriately by Greece. Similarly, as the Greek Foreign Secretary, Lycurgus Vasilopoulos, asserted in 1982, "The Hellenic government is fully confident in our sovereignty over the islands, and we have always been." In an era of at least rudimentary international justice, the claims of each side cannot simply be subordinated to the principle of 'might is right' and 'possession is nine-tenths of the law.' Some adjudication of the issue is appropriate.
The Turkish case rests on the argument that mere discovery has never been accepted by international law as the foundation of sovereignty. Discovery is only a valid basis if allied with occupation and settled administration. The first colony on the Dodecanese was established by the Knights Hospitaller, but this was ceded to the Ottoman Empire—virtually the only straightforward deal in the whole history of the Dodecanese. The Greek claim to early occupation must be confined to a few isolated settlements and did not involve any settled community. After a major dispute with the Ottoman Empire, this occupation was terminated; the famous plaques marking Greek claims were legally immaterial. The Ottoman Empire then maintained a peaceful administration over the islands for many years. When the Ottomans left, in 1912, the Greeks did not immediately reclaim the Dodecanese, and the government of what became modern Turkey declared sovereignty over the islands in 1923. It appointed governors, established administrative structures, and at least attempted to enforce justice. It was only through a fortuitous series of political maneuvers and international agreements that allowed Greece to make its claim.
The Greek case is three-fold. First, Greece asserted a claim to the Aegean islands and the Dodecanese in the early 19th century and has never renounced it. In 1947, this claim was reasserted following the end of World War II, to address the political vacuum left by the Ottoman Empire's collapse. This argument has faced scrutiny, and the Turkish government has expressed doubts about Greece's continuous claim over these territories.
Since before the Cold War, Greece has adopted a second argument: the doctrine of continuous occupation. This principle asserts that continuous possession over a significant period constitutes a right to ownership. The right is reinforced if that possession is not contested by the world at large and is not annulled by another claimant's competing demands. In international law, this doctrine essentially suggests that long-term possession can justify sovereignty. The argument is that if every nation reopened old claims whenever they felt powerful enough, global stability would be severely compromised.
The strongest Greek argument is based on the third principle: self-determination. The islands have a significant indigenous Greek population that passionately wishes to remain part of Greece. Respect for the wishes of inhabitants regarding sovereignty is enshrined in the United Nations charter and has guided decades of decolonization. The Turks argue that any nation can claim land, establish settlers, and assert sovereignty. However, the presence of the local Greek population and their clearly expressed desire to remain part of Greece have been central to the ongoing negotiations about the future of these islands.836Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd3RTUMrp83
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In 1982, Greece can at least claim that it has never entirely let its claim to the Aegean and the Dodecanese islands lapse. Athens protested when Turkey formally asserted its administration over parts of the Aegean in the 1920s. In the 1950s, as Greece was consolidating its sovereignty over these regions, it again demanded the return of certain disputed islands. Greece declared its sovereignty over the Dodecanese and nearby islets, asserting its claims against any Turkish encroachment. This led to decades of diplomatic tension and intermittent skirmishes between Greek and Turkish naval forces, with each side periodically asserting its claims through markers and small outposts in the contested areas.
By the end of World War II, Greece, Turkey, and the Cold War powers found themselves on a collision course. Initially, Greece and Turkey maintained cordial relations, with Greece being part of Western alliances and Turkey balancing its interests between the West and the Soviet sphere. The 1930s saw Greece struggling with its internal political issues and economic hardships, while Turkey was consolidating its republican identity under Atatürk's reforms. The 1940s brought significant changes, with both nations experiencing shifts in political alliances and strategic priorities. In the 1950s and 60s, Greece's political landscape was heavily influenced by the Cold War, with military and nationalist sentiments shaping its foreign policy. The rise of charismatic leaders in Greece, like Prime Minister Konstantinos Karamanlis, who sought to assert Greek interests, mirrored the turbulent political climate of the time. Turkey, under leaders like Adnan Menderes and later Süleyman Demirel, navigated its complex relationships with the Western powers and the Soviet Union. By the early 1980s, the memory of earlier conflicts, such as the Cyprus dispute, continued to fuel nationalist fervor in both Greece and Turkey. The death of influential figures like Atatürk and the ongoing legacies of their policies shaped the political discourse. As tensions over the Aegean and Dodecanese reached a new peak, the shadow of past leaders and their policies loomed large over the negotiations and military posturing between the two nations.
The military background of Turkish leader Cemal Gürsel, his visits to pre-war Italy, and his overt admiration for Mussolini led him towards what he termed "integral nationalism." After World War II, in which Turkey had aligned itself with the Western Allies, it found itself in a position to assert its independence from the new US-sponsored alliances and regional agreements. This independence led to a fervent restatement of Turkey’s claims over various disputed territories, chiefly in the Aegean Sea and the Dodecanese. Maps, commissions, expeditions, and ‘scientific’ missions flowed from Ankara, challenging Greece’s historical and strategic interests in these areas. By the late 1950s, Turkey was asserting its claims with increasing intensity, especially in response to Greece's activities in the region. In 1959, the Treaty of Ankara attempted to regulate and demilitarize certain areas, but this only served to heighten tensions. Greece narrowed its focus to the Aegean Sea and the Dodecanese islands, which it regarded as its sovereign territory. In doing so, Greece once again intensified Turkish sentiment that these islands were, and should remain, a matter of dispute.
Gursel appears to have been content to leave all this to his diplomats. The islands were of no significant economic value and only limited strategic importance. There was no drive to colonize them, and the presence of a settled Greek community was a complicating factor. The Turkish navy also still had a base in Antalya. Nevertheless, all Turkish schools were instructed to teach 'The Aegean and Dodecanese are Turkish', a sentiment that was even set to music. A generation of Turks thus grew up viewing the Greek presence as an affront to their national pride. Repossession was not merely a matter of legal or diplomatic finesse; it was a challenge to national honor. Greek ministers visiting Ankara in the 1960s and 1970s were constantly baffled by the emotion the subject aroused. Such territorial claims were fast fading from the minds of the European 'regionalists' in Athens. It was a mystery why they should arouse such feelings among emerging regionalists elsewhere in the world.
Most Greek politicians were perhaps dimly aware that the Aegean islands were a welcome respite from the anguish of territorial disputes. As one nation after another navigated the complexities of regional politics, the islanders desperately wanted their status to remain unchanged. Here was nationalism and self-determination marching side by side. Yet both required defense against a hostile neighbor. The Aegean islands had long been sheltered under the umbrella of Greek sovereignty. As that umbrella was increasingly challenged, they became more exposed, relying not on real military strength but on the memory of it. They were protected by a form of historical bluff.
The political party tasked with much of Greece's national defense was ironically the one that had traditionally embraced its regional responsibilities. By the end of the decade, Greece's major territorial claims in the Aegean and the Dodecanese were either contested or being re-evaluated. Yet the military presence designed to safeguard these claims remained in place. From Rhodes and Kos to the larger islands of the Aegean, the Greek flag still flew. Those who had resented the pace of diplomatic negotiations now fought, from the opposition benches, to maintain this strategic presence.
Some Deputies argued that a reduced territorial influence did not entail a diminished world role as long as Greek forces were deployed strategically. Like nuclear weapons, Greek military bases were a 'ticket to the top table' of nations. The new Prime Minister, Lycurgus Vasilopoulos, was not opposed to this argument. Yet, just as conservative elements had had to guard their backs against the right wing in matters of foreign and defense policy, so Vasilopoulos had to guard against the left. Withdrawal from strategic overseas territories became a rallying cry to Vasilopoulos's party opponents and one which he ultimately conceded. A crucial consequence of this front-bench insecurity over post-territorial policy was to remove foreign and defense affairs out of the limelight of parliamentary and public debate into the more secretive world of Foreign Ministry working parties, Defense Ministry committees, and backbench study groups. Within these lesser-known regions of the Greek political system, policy could be formulated and implemented (or obstructed) with minimal public scrutiny or controversy.
The major responsibility for sustaining the defense of the Dodecanese and Aegean islands lay with the Hellenic Navy. More than any other service, it found little solace in the reduction of Greek territorial influence. As each strategic position was contested, so too did the need for naval assets like aircraft carriers, amphibious landing ships, and overseas bases become more pressing. The advent of seaborne missile systems and the lengthening timespan required for naval design called for frequent and usually pessimistic reviews of naval strategy. A service besieged by doubt inevitably began to turn inward and defend its institutional territories—primarily its ships. Navy ministers, admirals, and fleet commanders now earned their battle honors in the corridors of the Ministry of Defense in Athens. Their defeats were recorded in successive defense white papers, while their victories lay gleaming on the slipways of shipyards in Piraeus and Thessaloniki. Their arguments were not without merit: Greece's foreign policy makers could not sustain a wide range of alliance commitments on the rhetoric of diplomacy alone. But what ships the navy really needed was a matter of heated debate.
In the 1960s and early 1970s, the navy was led by strong personalities like Admiral Stavros Kapodistrias and Admiral Alexandros Photiou. Their tenures seemed dominated by a single obsession: the fate of Greece's carrier force. The aircraft carrier symbolized not merely the majesty of naval power but the navy's ability to perform a full range of operational tasks across the Aegean and beyond. The carriers' existence demonstrated Greece's continuing role as a regional power. Admirals and their parliamentary supporters fought for their carriers with a determination—and through public discourse with an assertiveness—unheard of in other public services. It was the Defense Minister, Nikos Paraskevopoulos, who first set out to decommission the carriers in 1966, in what was intended as the most radical defense white paper since the Second World War. He stated categorically that the only sort of operation for which aircraft carriers would ever again be required would be a 'landing or withdrawal of troops against sophisticated opposition outside the range of land-based air cover.' (The Aegean conflict in a nutshell.) Yet he could envisage no such operation in which Greece might be engaged 'without the support of our allies.' Greece, in other words, would only act as a regional enforcer in concert with its allies.836Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyHA4wxAHbr
The Navy maintained its campaign throughout the 1970s. Plans for ‘light carriers’ and ‘through-deck cruisers’ crossed the desks of defense ministers one after the other. This campaign was sufficiently successful for one ‘mini-carrier’, *Athena*, to be available in the Aegean, while a second, *Illustrious*, was under construction in Piraeus. Greece also still possessed the older carrier *Hercules*, now officially designated as a ‘Landing Platform Helicopter’. The strategic justification for these ships, which could only accommodate Harriers and helicopters, was that they provided anti-submarine defense for NATO. By the time of Ioannis Papadopoulos's 1981 white paper, this function was considered better (and certainly more cheaply) performed by destroyers and frigates. Hercules was scheduled for the scrapyard, and Athena had been sold to the Australians. In the late 1970s, financial restrictions on the Hellenic Navy were so severe that warships were crippled by a lack of spare parts. Some frigates were unable to operate their primary sonars. Naval pay had fallen so low that many sailors based ashore were 'moonlighting', taking second jobs to increase their incomes. 1980 was the blackest year of all, with a total moratorium on defense contracts and fuel allocations so severely cut that many ships could not put to sea for months.
Carriers were not the only victims of naval retrenchment. Just as Minister Nuri Demir predicted the strategic requirements NATO would place on the navy ten years from 1966, so Ioannis Papadopoulos had to make a similar prediction in 1981. He came to a remarkably similar conclusion. To Papadopoulos, the navy should concentrate on anti-Soviet and anti-submarine defense. Not only were carriers no longer required, but ‘needs do not warrant the replacement of specialist amphibious ships’ intended for out-of-area landings. The assault ships Tharraléos and Atrómitos found their days numbered.
The entire tone of Papadopoulos's 1981 review — inspired by the most sustained attack ever mounted by the Ministry of Finance on defense spending — was to curtail the surface role of the navy and reduce its need for costly surface warships. It was this cut in the navy's conventional capability that secured Papadopoulos the resignation of the Navy Minister, Alkis Paralos, (a repeat of that of Demir's minister, Orhan Kaya, also over carriers), and the enmity of the Chief of the Navy, Fotis Andreadis. Blessed with a pleasant manner but a devastating directness of approach, Andreadis raised his battle colors over his corner of the Ministry of Defense and laid down a withering fire in Papadopoulos's direction. His defeat only made him more outspoken. It seemed that not since Barbarossa sailed up the Aegean had such havoc been wrought on the Greek navy. Papadopoulos showed considerable political courage in resisting this bombardment to the end.836Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5fM9hEibI3
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Despite being criticized by many as the antagonist in the dispute over the Dodecanese and the Aegean islands, the Greek Ministry of Foreign Affairs had adapted more effectively than many other branches of government to Greece’s evolving role in the region. The Ministry had to forge new alliances with nations that were either indifferent to Greece or actively challenging its interests. For diplomats navigating this complex landscape, the lingering tensions over these islands were a constant source of embarrassment. Far from being serene outposts of stability in a tumultuous region, the contested islands, including Rhodes and Kastellorizo, often became flashpoints for conflict and instability. By the early 1970s, while many disputes had been resolved or had faded, the Greek-Turkish tensions over these islands remained a stubborn issue. Except for a few remaining contentious territories, most disputes had been settled or had diminished, leaving these islands as the last vestiges of unresolved territorial disputes. These islands, particularly the Dodecanese and the Aegean enclaves, were emblematic of Greece’s ongoing struggles with its historical claims and regional politics. History had left them at the center of diplomatic challenges, and resolving their status remained a significant concern for Greek foreign policy.
In the dispute over the Dodecanese and the Aegean islands, two of these territories, Rhodes and Kastellorizo, fell into a special category. They were occupied by Greek citizens but were also claimed by neighboring Turkey. Unlike other regions, such as Crete or the Cyclades, they could not be simply integrated into a broader regional defense arrangement. They were part of Greece's national territory and proud of it.The task of administering these territories had originally fallen to the Ministry of Aegean and Island Policy, which oversaw the governance and development of Greece’s islands. As its responsibilities evolved, this office was merged with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in 1966, reflecting a shift from a focus on administrative governance to diplomatic and strategic considerations. Veteran administrators and officials, many with a background in local governance, found themselves in a department increasingly dominated by diplomatic priorities rather than practical administration.
In the dispute over the Dodecanese and the Aegean islands, the old functions continued in divisions with titles such as 'Greek Islands Administration' and 'Mediterranean Territories.' Governorships of these islands were often seen as less desirable posts, sometimes marking the end of a career rather than a step forward. Funding for the development of these islands had to be extracted from the newly established Ministry of Aegean Affairs (later Agency), where it competed with more pressing and politically significant issues for support. The Greek islands, despite their strategic importance, often received less attention and resources compared to larger or more politically influential regions. The Dodecanese, with their relatively small population and isolated nature, were seen as minor compared to the vast and diverse needs of the Greek mainland and the broader Mediterranean region. As such, they were not considered a significant factor in Greek foreign policy or negotiations with Turkey, a country with a population of over 80 million.
Last in the Dodecanese cast list—but by no means least—comes the Greek Parliament. Successive governments have, as we have seen, had devious reasons for steering foreign policy away from the Vouli. This desire for secrecy has been matched only by the Parliament's apparent lack of interest in addressing it. Eleni Papadopoulos, in her study of the Vouli's oversight of foreign affairs, has argued that such oversight is now virtually non-existent. Neither full-dress debates nor Foreign Ministry question times provide proper scrutiny of policy. Even ministers seem to act as little more than mouthpieces for decisions made behind their backs, and often before their time. As these decisions rarely involve significant resources, they lack the public controversy that typically stirs a row with the Ministry of Finance. Foreign affairs barely registers on any poll of issues concerning the electorate. Why should Deputies bother?
Occasionally, complacency can backfire, forcing a need for change that the government machine must adapt to. When only a small number of Deputies fail to grasp the importance of this change or see it as a threat to their interests, they might resort to suspicion and antagonism, feeling excluded from the decision-making process. Even if the issue seems minor, the cabinet might judge the political risk of addressing it as too high. This tension can lead to a fraught and embattled process of forming foreign policy. The Foreign Ministry, having neglected to build alliances and a supportive lobby in the wider political community, finds itself at a disadvantage. For over seventeen years, this was the situation with Greece's policy regarding the Dodecanese. The failure to address these tensions ultimately led to conflict with Turkey.
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