The Turkish Front
As the conflicts in Europe and East Asia boil over into a global war, it is easy to forget the many regional conflicts that play a critical role in the balance of the three great alliances. In the case of the Byzantine Empire and the Turkish Republic, an avid reader of the papers may tell you the war has only just been ignited as of 1939, however asking a military analyst you might hear a number closer to 40 years. The great reality of the situation is that if you ask a citizen of either of these nations, they will tell you that this conflict has been going on nonstop since the birth of their respective nations, thrust into violence from the implosion of the Ottoman Empire. With a century of bloodshed, it is no wonder how this conflict can be seen by many as one of the worst theaters on earth, and you certainly wouldn't want to be caught in the crossfire.
From Rump State to Republic
The modern Turkish state, often referred to colloquially as the "Turkish Republic," occupies the Central Anatolian plateau, a region that once formed the heartland of the Ottoman Empire. Following the catastrophic loss of Istanbul to the resurgent Greece in 1832, the Ottomans experienced a rapid disintegration of authority. The fall of the imperial capital coupled with the collapse of communications and coordination across Anatolia, left the ruling dynasty in panic. As the Greco-Balkan forces pressed eastward, members of the Ottoman imperial family fled the burning palaces of Istanbul under cover of night, fleeing for Bursa. Peace was soon achieved, but this merely slowed the demise of the empire, as it ruled from its new capital city for a little over a decade. The Greeks returned to the Anatolian frontier in 1846, this time as part of the newly reformed Byzantine Empire. While this reformed foe had significantly less international support for this second conflict, their efficiency as a military force was still too great for the crumbling Ottomans. As Bursa now faced the same fate as “Constantinople”, a battered column of royal guards, ministers, and family retainers traversed the roads through old Phrygia, seeking refuge in Ankara, a modest provincial town with a significant military garrison. Upon arrival, they were met not with the ceremonial deference of a loyal command, but by a delegation of nationalist officers, and a mob of despondent locals, including a child named Ali Riza, who would one day rise to greater purpose.
Over the next few decades, several failed attempts at reform were underwent throughout the rump state. The first serious effort at a Turkish Republic was in the form of a constitutional monarchy led by a European-style bicameral legislature, which was ultimately a hollow effort at change. The same corrupt viziers and nobles from the previous regime pushed for increased authority, a bald attempt at restoring the Ottomans in all but name. The “Second” Turkish Republic emerged from a military coup in 1878, which finally purged the remnants of the Ottoman government, and placed the caliph in house arrest. The triggerman of this revolt was a charismatic young officer, the aforementioned Ali Riza, who became a prominent political icon amidst the military junta’s transitionary cabinet. It was no surprise that following the reformation, this forward thinking revolutionary would be the first fairly elected President of the 2nd Republic, Ali Riza Atatürk, the father of Turkey.
The Byzantine Reconquest and the Refugee Crisis
The Byzantine Empire's reconquest of western Anatolia and Constantinople was marked by systemic expulsions of Turkish and Islamic populations. Citing "restorationist" policies rooted in Byzantine ethnonationalism and Orthodox triumphalism, the regime forcibly removed large sections of the Turkish and Islamic populations of Smyrna, Bithynia, and the Bosphorus region. Turkish forces attempted to slow the Byzantine expansion and provide space for an orderly evacuation of civilians. However, the chaos created by the ever-changing political regime of the 1840s and 50s left the military command structure in shambles. Several Turkish divisions refused to accept the republic's leadership over the region, and continued to act independently in the absence of the caliph. Many of these divisions were overrun and entirely destroyed before the remainder of the military solidified under the junta in the 70s. All the while, refugees streamed eastward, their caravans swelling the cities of the Turkish Republic and permanently reshaping the interior’s demographics. The refugee population strained already limited housing and infrastructure, but also provided a surge of labor, talent, and patriotic zeal. Camps on the outskirts of cities soon evolved into bustling quarters. Many displaced military officers and engineers were quickly absorbed into the defense establishment.
The Modern Republic
Life in the Turkish Republic in the early twentieth century was first defined by austerity and hardship coexisting with fierce civic pride. The ongoing state of low-intensity war, coupled with the mass displacement of the population, presented many challenges for the young republic. In cities like Ankara, Kayseri, and Sivas, refugee neighborhoods have swelled into sprawling, semi-permanent districts. While conditions in these zones remained difficult and were marked by overcrowding, inconsistent water access, and a reliance on rationed goods, they also served as hubs of local enterprise and grassroots organization. Markets operated out of repurposed warehouses; children attended makeshift schools staffed by volunteers; local councils, sometimes improvised, mediate disputes and distribute aid.
The Turkish government maintained a tight grip on national messaging. State radio and printed publications emphasized unity, resistance, and the righteousness of the republican cause. War memorials were ubiquitous, and public squares often featured murals or statues commemorating the victims of the expulsions. Rationing and conscription were facts of daily life. Almost every household had at least one member in the military or auxiliary services, and many families rotate through cycles of deployment, labor duty, and civil defense drills. The government also issued standardized manuals on urban fortification, emergency surgery, and blackout protocols. In border towns, underground shelters doubled as community halls and schoolrooms.
Yet for all the adversity of the past, there is a flowering of creativity. Poetry, music, and theater have emerged as vital tools of expression and defiance. Traveling troupes perform patriotic operas and modernist dramas; printing presses produce memoirs of displacement and satire targeting Byzantine officials. The Ministry of Culture encourages these efforts as both morale-boosters and soft-power tools. Islam plays a quiet but enduring role in civilian life. Though public displays are moderated by secular law, Friday prayers are widely attended, and imams often serve as both spiritual guides and community organizers. The state's measured tolerance of religious expression in daily life has helped preserve cohesion without undermining the republic’s secular character. The result is a civilian population that is weary, wary, and deeply politicized.
Internal Politics and Factionalism
In spite of the appearance of national unity projected by Ankara, the Turkish Republic is not without internal divisions. The republican framework established by Atatürk has endured in law and symbolism, but within its institutions, competing visions for Turkey’s future quietly contend for influence. One major divide exists between the military technocrats, including pragmatic officers and administrators who emphasize modernization, discipline, and strategic defense, and the civilian populists, many of whom hail from the refugee intelligentsia. The latter advocate for greater social welfare, land reform, and increased political participation, often drawing support from newly urbanized refugee quarters. While Atatürk was publicly nonpartisan before his death in 1907, his son and 4th Turkish president, Mustafa Kemal Türkoğlu, is quite vocal in his support of the militarist wing of the government.
Tensions have also surfaced between secularist purists and those advocating for a limited reintegration of Islamic identity into public life. Though the state remains staunchly secular, calls for greater accommodation such as state-supported mosques in refugee zones, or the recognition of Islamic religious festivals have grown more pronounced. Some argue these measures are necessary to maintain cohesion among the millions displaced by the Byzantine expulsions. Others fear they threaten the foundational vision of a rational, modern republic. The Directorate for Religious Affairs (Diyanet), once nearly dissolved in the early days of the republic, has been cautiously reestablished under strict state oversight. Its role remains contentious. For hardline secularists, it is a necessary evil to prevent independent clerical networks. For conservative communities, it is a lifeline that allows for cultural continuity under a regime that otherwise demands ideological conformity. Among the religious elements quietly tolerated by the state, the Naqshbandi Sufi order has emerged as a particularly valuable intermediary. Though officially unrecognized, Naqshbandi networks provide community cohesion, local charity, and mediation in disputes, especially in areas where state presence is limited. Their discipline, non-political orientation, and emphasis on order have earned them cautious favor from both civil and military authorities. While secular officials remain wary of any independent religious authority, the Naqshbandiyya’s tacit cooperation with the republican project has made them a useful asset in stabilizing the interior.
While Atatürk’s mission continues to dominate the political scene thanks to his son, whispers of succession circulate within both the military and party apparatus. As Mustafa Kemal has no children or chosen successor, the question of who will guide the republic after his eventual departure remains unanswered.
Conflict in the Borderlands
Since the renewed hostilities in the early 1900s, there has been no peace treaty between the Turkish Republic and the Byzantine Empire. The frontier was a war zone in all but name. Clashes between patrols, artillery duels across mountain passes, and retaliatory incursions by irregular forces were weekly occurrences. Several Byzantine Tagmatarchis, particularly those with ultranationalist sympathies, have been known to conduct semi-sanctioned raids into Turkish territory. These operations were neither formally denounced nor officially acknowledged by Constantinople. In response, the Turkish military has adopted a doctrine of layered defense. Border villages have been fortified and often serve as recruitment pools for local militias. Mountain roads are mined, and hardened bunkers dot the high passes. The Turkish General Staff maintains a policy of containment and attrition, aimed to bleed Byzantine raiding forces without provoking full-scale war. If only this were to be the case…
The simmering conflict erupted into open warfare again on March 15th, 1939, following a now-infamous incident at the Cilician Gates, a strategic mountain pass that would allow troops landing in the south to enter central Anatolia. On March 1st, a Byzantine force under the command Tagmatarchis Ioannis Metaxas conducted a covert naval landing on the coastline south of Tarsus and marched towards the mountain pass. Metaxas is believed to have acted on his own authority. He likely chose the Cilician Gates for their historical significance, and because conducting the incursion amphibiously allowed him to avoid the significant defensive positions and minefields present along most of the front. The insurgent force managed to reach the mountain pass before being spotted by local authorities. Turkish troops gathered near the village of Gülek, and demanded the Byzantines withdraw, but a firefight soon broke out. The initial exchange resulted in several casualties on both sides, and many missing. What was at first a contained encounter soon broke out into open battle however, when a Turkish search party was fired upon the following morning, and reinforcements from a neighboring town arrived to repel the invading troops.
The unofficial incident became a pretext for wider escalation between the two nations. Turkish forces launched a limited counteroffensive to retake the Cilicia region and secure the pass. Byzantine reinforcements were dispatched from bases in the Aegean islands and surged towards the mountain corridor, establishing fortified positions in the surrounding highlands. Within weeks, the border conflict had escalated into a sustained campaign involving artillery bombardments, air support, and mobile infantry columns. The international community issued calls for restraint, but the mechanisms of diplomacy were too slow. For the first time in over three decades, the Turkish Front had reignited into open warfare.
Foreign Involvement
While the Turkish Republic stands largely alone against the Byzantine Empire, it has received limited yet strategically significant support from the Holy Roman Empire. This aid is motivated by a blend of geopolitical strategy, logistical necessity, and humanitarian sympathy. From a strategic perspective, the HRE views the Turkish state as a useful counterweight to Byzantine ambitions. With a long and tension-filled Byzantine border of their own, the Holy Roman authorities are keen to prevent Byzantine expansion into Central Anatolia from becoming a stepping stone toward greater regional influence. Turkish resistance serves as a pressure valve that diverts Byzantine attention and resources. Logistically, the Turkish Republic hosts a small but vital network of airship bases. These installations, built and maintained with HRE assistance, provide critical refueling and repair capacity for zeppelin routes connecting Europe with the Empire's allies in the East, particularly Ethiopia. Though technically civilian in designation, these facilities are guarded by elite Turkish units and are quietly recognized as being of dual-use military significance. Finally, among the HRE public, particularly in Austria and the southern German states, there exists a current of humanitarian sympathy for the displaced Turkish population. Images of the expulsions and the suffering endured by refugees have circulated widely, prompting fundraising efforts, charitable missions, and even the involvement of several Catholic aid organizations. While not decisive in scale, this civilian engagement has bolstered political support for continued, if cautious, assistance to Ankara.
The British Empire, while officially maintaining a posture of neutrality in the Byzantine-Turkish conflict, has increasingly tilted toward tacit support for the Byzantine campaign. British policymakers regard the Byzantine Empire as a stabilizing imperial force in the eastern Mediterranean. The revival of Byzantine power, particularly its naval resurgence and reassertion of authority in former Ottoman territories, is viewed in Whitehall as a potential bulwark against both republican insurgencies and communist agitation in the region. Supporting Byzantium, even informally, serves to reinforce the broader imperial order, especially concerning the occasional instability of the Egyptian Sultanate. Secondly, British commercial and military logistics in the eastern Mediterranean benefit from cooperation with the Byzantines. Several key ports, airstrips, and intelligence-sharing agreements rely on the stability of Byzantine-held territories. British airship routes that traverse the Levant and eastern Mediterranean airspace are safer with Byzantium as a cooperating force rather than a belligerent one.
The British public and press have often portrayed the Byzantine state in romanticized terms, such as the rightful inheritor of classical civilization and Christian tradition. In contrast, the Turkish Republic is frequently depicted as a seditious breakaway state, born of revolution and steeped in both Islamic and secular nationalism. Although official statements remain carefully worded, British arms exports to Byzantium have increased, and diplomatic communiqués express concern over "instability provoked by radical factions." In practice, this has translated into a muted endorsement of Byzantine actions.
Despite the pragmatic and humanitarian support offered by the Holy Roman Empire, Ankara remains conspicuously absent from the League of Five Emperors. This exclusion is no accident. The Turkish Republic’s foundational identity as a secular, republican state stands in stark contrast to the monarchist ethos that underpins the League. Atatürk’s uncompromising opposition to dynastic rule renders his government ideologically incompatible with the League’s imperial vision.
Within League councils, there exists deep unease regarding the Turkish regime’s revolutionary precedent. Conservative voices in Vienna, Saint Petersburg, and Seoul argue that legitimizing the Turkish Republic would embolden republican movements across their own borders. Even in Addis Ababa and Rio de Janeiro, where enthusiasm for regional autonomy is somewhat greater, formal alliance with a government born of anti-monarchical revolt is seen as ideologically dangerous. Turkish policy makers themselves have shown little appetite for integration into a bloc dominated by hereditary empires. Ankara remains wary of entanglements that might compromise its sovereignty or undermine its republican legitimacy, but necessity has continued to drive the Turks as close as diplomacy allows to the League. The result is a cautious détente. The Turkish Republic remains a useful but ideologically inconvenient partner to the League’s dominant powers and is welcome as a counterbalance, but never embraced as an equal.
Conclusion
Though vastly outmatched in terms of manpower and territory, the Turkish Republic has proven resilient. Its mountainous terrain, relatively unified political culture, and experienced military leadership have allowed it to hold the line against Byzantium. As of the present, the Turkish Front has erupted into another round of open conflict with no resolution in sight. Mustafa Kemal Türkoğlu ’s government is solidly on the defensive, but have been able to benefit from years of defensive fortification building. While publicly the president has said nothing that might shatter the facade of defiance against the Byzantines, privately there are many within the government who consider the situation to be hopeless without extensive foreign aid from League member states. For their part, the Byzantine government has increased propaganda efforts and is ramping up conscription efforts. While their mobilization has provoked objection from the HRE, it has been too distracted by the war on the French and Italian fronts to take serious action. There is also a fear that if the Byzantine military were to finally make a play for its historical territories in Serbia, the HRE would be stretched too thin to stop them. In the meantime, Byzantine authorities prepare for a triumphal celebration to be held in Ankara within six months…
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