Perhaps the most difficult question one can ask a politician is also the simplest: “What exactly are you trying to achieve?”

Not what principles are you defending, what historical injustices are you correcting, or what threats are you confronting. These questions are relatively easy to answer, particularly when national pride and patriotic emotions can be summoned to the cause.

The more difficult questions concern the desired outcome, the means of achieving it, the likely consequences and, above all, the price ordinary people may be required to pay.

The American-Israeli attacks on Iran in February 2026 offer a troubling illustration of the dangers of unclear objectives and reckless military intervention. Conflicting explanations from President Trump, Secretary of State Marco Rubio and Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth, alongside Pentagon intelligence briefings that appeared to contradict Trump’s account, raised serious questions about the justification for the attacks and their intended political outcome.

The US now finds itself entangled in a costly and prolonged Persian Gulf conflict, with its military expenditure alone reaching an estimated $43.6 billion by September 3. The consequences extend far beyond Iran’s losses. The conflict spread into Lebanon, where fighting following Israeli attacks reportedly killed more than 4,300 people and displaced hundreds of thousands. Rising energy prices and inflation are continuing to wreck economies and living standards worldwide, including in the United States itself.

Have the countries of the Eastern Mediterranean learnt anything from this and countless other ill-conceived wars in the past? It is a question worth asking as Turkey, Greece, the Republic of Cyprus, northern Cyprus and Israel become increasingly embroiled in competing military alliances, maritime disputes and an expensive struggle for strategic military advantage. The time has come for all parties to examine their differences and explore peaceful solutions, before nationalist rhetoric, political posturing and displays of military strength overwhelm all reason and common sense.

At the centre of the dispute, which could trigger serious conflict, are competing claims over maritime boundaries and potentially valuable natural resources, with each side invoking international law to support its position.

Turkey, possessing the longest mainland coastline in the Eastern Mediterranean, argues that small Greek islands lying close to its coast should not generate such extensive maritime zones that they effectively cut off Turkey’s own entitlements. This assertion is comparable to the 2012 ruling by the International Court of Justice in a maritime dispute in which the court adjusted maritime boundaries to prevent Colombia’s offshore islands from disproportionately restricting the maritime rights arising from Nicaragua’s much longer mainland coastline.

Greece maintains that its islands, regardless of size, possess maritime rights under international law, including exclusive economic zones and continental shelves. It argues that proximity to another country’s mainland cannot extinguish these rights and that maritime boundaries should generally follow the principle of equidistance, giving appropriate recognition to its islands.

The Republic of Cyprus asserts its internationally recognised right to develop offshore resources for the benefit of all Cypriots, while Turkish Cypriots maintain that as the discrete co-owners of the island’s resources, they should participate directly in decisions concerning exploration, investment and revenue-sharing.

The disputes are further complicated by historical treaty restrictions on the militarisation of Greek islands and conflicting interpretations of present-day security requirements.

Yet what are these disputed resources actually worth? Energy expert Charles Ellinas has questioned how much Cyprus itself will earn from the development of its Kronos gasfield, despite its potential commercial viability for energy companies. The anticipated economic rewards must be weighed against the potentially catastrophic human and financial costs of military confrontation.

The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (Unclos) is often invoked as though it provides a straightforward answer to every dispute. It does not. Article 121 generally recognises the maritime entitlements of islands, while Articles 74 and 83 expressly provide for negotiated boundaries aimed at achieving an equitable solution. They also envisage provisional practical arrangements pending final agreement, without prejudicing the parties’ respective maritime claims.

Although Greece and Cyprus are parties to Unclos, Turkey, Israel and the United States are not. Nevertheless, many of its principles form part of customary international law, leaving considerable scope for negotiated settlements.

Must these disputes lead to confrontation? Negotiation, arbitration and willingness to compromise offer a better alternative. There are successful precedents. In 1979, Malaysia and Thailand agreed to develop offshore resources jointly in disputed waters without abandoning their respective maritime claims. Their joint authority has overseen commercial gas production since 2005, sharing the benefits between both countries. The arrangement continues today, demonstrating that cooperation need not await agreement over maritime boundaries.

Yet while opportunities for cooperation exist, military competition continues. In my November 2025 article on demilitarisation, I questioned whether growing military alliances and arms purchases were making Cyprus safer.

Since then, Greece has signed a €3 billion air-defence agreement with Israel and agreed to spend up to $4 billion on additional American weapons and aircraft upgrades. Turkey has also reinforced its military presence opposite Greek islands, while Cyprus continues to deepen its security partnerships. Each side presents these developments as necessary for defence, but are they increasing security or perpetuating an increasingly dangerous arms race?

There is an old saying about the Aegean – that the sea belongs to the fish. Behind its gentle humour lies a serious message: surely these waters should bring neighbouring peoples together through their shared resources, rather than become another battleground for national ambitions.

Ultimately, the real measure of any government’s policy must be whether it makes its people safer and improves their lives. Cyprus’ troubled history provides ample evidence of the consequences when political and military calculations go wrong.

The fundamental human rights to life, personal security and an adequate standard of living should take precedence over national prestige, territorial ambitions and political popularity. Before risking another devastating conflict, our leaders should explain precisely what they hope to achieve, at what cost, and why peaceful alternatives would not serve their people better.