John Galbraith once said that the only use of economic forecasts is to make… astrology seem respectable!
If we were to paraphrase this well-known quote of his in light of many analyses of Greek-Turkish relations, we might formulate a new version of this phrase. For years now, a segment of the public discourse has insisted on predicting that Turkey, through dialogue, de-escalation, and the avoidance of tensions, will gradually curb its revisionism. Reality, however, has consistently followed the opposite course.
Every time Athens sought to maintain a calm atmosphere, Ankara did not abandon any of its core claims. It did not withdraw the casus belli. It did not recognize the Greek islands’ right to full maritime rights. It did not abandon the theory of “gray zones.”
It did not revise the Turkish-Libyan memorandum. It did not withdraw a single one of its long-standing claims, even during the period characterized as a time of “calm waters.” On the contrary, it continued to present them as non-negotiable national positions. All of this does not constitute circumstantial choices, but rather consistent elements of Turkish strategy.
These predictions have been proven wrong at nearly every critical juncture of the past decade. Turkish revisionism has not only failed to recede but has acquired new tools and new means of expression.
Today, Turkey is attempting something qualitatively different. It is undertaking a systematic application of “lawfare” (i.e., “war through the law”). It seeks to transform lawfare into a strategic force multiplier. It is no longer content with projecting power through the military or diplomacy, but seeks to cloak its revisionist claims in a domestic legal framework, so that they appear to be state positions supposedly enshrined in the constitution.
Although the submission of the relevant bill is postponed depending on the diplomatic expediencies of the moment, its legislative drafting demonstrates that the strategic choice remains unwavering.
This is the greatest refutation of the appeasement school of thought. International literature has repeatedly pointed out that when a revisionist power faces no substantial costs, time tends to work in its favor rather than in favor of stability.
While Greece was debating how to manage the tension, Ankara exploited every international upheaval—from the war in Ukraine and the energy crisis to the conflicts in Middle East and the current realignment of American and European priorities—to consolidate its presence in the region, building a comprehensive ideological, military, diplomatic, and now legal framework.
Even more alarming is that Ankara is exploiting the illusion of “legal normality”—which it is attempting to create—to shift the debate away from the legitimacy of Greece’s sovereign rights toward the supposed existence of “two conflicting legal positions.” It does not change international law, but it attempts to impose its own legal narrative, which it uses as a tool of pressure at every diplomatic table.
That is why the discussion should no longer revolve around whether Turkey “really wants tension.” The real question is a different one: How many more refutations are needed to abandon a theory that has already been overtaken by events?
The history of Greek-Turkish relations teaches us that Ankara does not abandon a strategic goal simply because time has passed. It abandons it only when the costs exceed the benefits. The greatest delusion is not to underestimate Turkey’s intentions. It is to believe that revisionism will limit itself simply because time passes. History shows exactly the opposite: when it does not encounter deterrent costs, revisionism does not recede. It becomes institutionalized, entrenched, and expands.
