In early 1982, two troubled nations collided on a cluster of windswept islands in the South Atlantic.
For 74 days, Britain and Argentina fought a short, brutal war over the Falklands - or as Argentina calls them, the Malvinas.
The conflict was brief, but the shockwaves rippled across both nations, exposing the ways of how political power often ignore the will of ordinary people.
At the time, Argentina was ruled by a military junta, the latest in a series of authoritarian regimes that had plagued the country for decades. Half a world away, Britain was also in crisis. Margaret Thatcher’s government faced economic turmoil, industrial unrest, and plummeting popularity. The sudden attack on the Falklands gave her a chance to show strength.
“It was a war fought over pride, politics, and the ghosts of empire.”
— Historian Max Hastings
General Leopoldo Galtieri, the junta's leader, was under pressure. Inflation was out of control, public protests were growing, and his grip on power was weakening. Desperate to restore national pride and distract from internal chaos, Galtieri looked outward. His eyes landed on the Falkland Islands.
Remote, sparsely populated, and largely overlooked, the Falklands had been under British control since 1833. Yet in Argentina, they remained a symbol of colonial grievance. Generations of Argentinians had been taught the Malvinas belonged to them. By launching a surprise invasion in April 1982, Galtieri hoped to unite the country behind him.
Despite years of British defense cutbacks, where exercises were not conducted as often as necessary, and the state of its equipment was questionable, Britain under Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher responded with unexpected speed and resolve. A task force was assembled, including two aircraft carriers, destroyers, support ships, and even a converted civilian container vessel. The core of the British ground forces would be the 3rd Commando Brigade.
Unbeknown to the British, in March 1982, Argentine troops disguised as workers landed on South Georgia, a remote island under Falklands administration.
At the beginning of April, elite Argentine commandos landed near Port Stanley - the Falklands capital and only real town, which is situated on the island of East Falkland. They emerged from the destroyer Santisima Trinidad with the intention of capturing a British Marine unit there. However, the British had already left the most obvious target for attack in advance – their own barracks – and the Argentines seized the empty buildings.
Meanwhile, a full-fledged battle was already underway at the residence of the governor of the Falklands. The Argentines brought new forces into the fray. The small British contingent fought back until it exhausted its ability to resist – as a result, 58 of the Queen’s soldiers were captured.
In South Georgia, a small British detachment also surrendered after a fierce battle.
Argentina reinforced the islands, but their troops were largely under-trained conscripts. Airlift constraints meant few heavy weapons could be deployed, and the Argentine air force operated at the edge of its range, disadvantages that would soon prove critical.
Britain swiftly retook South Georgia. Early attempts to disable Argentine airfields with long-range bombers proved ineffective, but carrier-based Harrier jets began to score tactical victories.
The first really serious loss befell the Argentines .... among their fleet was a light cruiser christened the General Belgrano, which was an American ship built before World War II that had been sold to Buenos Aires in 1951.
On April 30, the Argentine naval group was discovered by the British submarine Conqueror. Though the submarine had been on a different mission, seeing a favourable opportunity, the British decided to attack.
The submarine launched a volley of three torpedoes, and two of them hit home. The destroyers accompanying the Belgrano were nowhere in the vicinity of the cruiser, as they had lost contact in heavy fog. As a result, 323 sailors died, 772 escaped, and the cruiser was sent to the bottom of the sea.
Not long after, an Argentine reconnaissance aircraft spotted the British destroyer Sheffield and the frigate Glasgow. The Argentinians quickly made a decision, and a couple of attack aircraft rushed to the destroyer. The planes were flying at ultra-low altitudes with their radars turned off for most of the flight.
Glasgow evaded the assault, but Sheffield was not so fortunate. The missile fired at the Sheffield easily reached its target. The Argentines were helped by a successful combination of circumstances: The destroyer had been communicating with London and, in order to eliminate interference, the ship’s radioelectric defense systems had been turned off, with the exception of one radar unit. As a result, the incoming rocket was noticed only when it became visible to the naked eye.
There was a lull for some time. The British were preparing to deal a decisive blow to the Argentine garrison. One of the proposed plans smacked of madness – to send saboteurs to the mainland to destroy stocks of Argentina's missiles.
On May 14, 45 SAS commandos raided Pebble Island, destroying 11 Argentine aircraft without suffering a single casualty. Meanwhile, an Argentine sabotage mission planned for Gibraltar failed when the agents were arrested.
On May 20, Britain landed troops at San Carlos Bay on East Falkland. Despite light resistance, Argentine aircraft mounted fierce attacks, damaging several British ships. The destroyer Coventry and the frigates Ardent and Antelope were lost. Yet the British beachhead held.
From there, troops moved inland toward Argentine positions. An ill-timed journalist broadcast nearly compromised their advance, but British training and firepower ultimately overcame entrenched Argentine bunkers.
The war culminated in the retaking of Port Stanley and the surrender of Argentine forces on June 14, 1982. Britain had reclaimed the Falklands, but at significant cost.
“War is a terrible thing, but if it must come, then better to win it than lose it.”
— British veteran of the Falklands campaign
649 Argentines, 255 British servicemen, and three Falkland Islanders died. Thousands more were wounded or traumatised. For the Falkland Islanders themselves, the war brought fear, upheaval, and a reaffirmation of their desire to remain British.
In the aftermath, Galtieri was ousted. His regime collapsed.
In Britain, the victory revitalised Thatcher’s government, helping her win a landslide election the following year. But the deeper truths of the war remain more complex.
A Royal Navy aircraft carrier, possibly HMS Hermes, is met by a flotilla of small vessels on its return to Portsmouth from the south Atlantic after the Falklands War, 30th July 1982. © John Downing / Getty Images
Why did two declining powers clash over such remote territory? Why was the fate of 1,800 islanders used as a political prop? And why, amid all the strategy and slogans, were their own voices barely heard?
Today, the Falklands are still a British Overseas Territory, and the scars of 1982 remain. The war showed how leaders, cornered at home, may lash out abroad. It showed how history can be weaponised to forge unity, even through bloodshed. And it showed that for all the talk of sovereignty, self-determination, and pride, ordinary people are often left to suffer the consequences.
The war lasted 74 days. Its lessons, perhaps, have yet to be fully learned.
Today, both nations are very different. Where once the UK was governed by iron-fisted conservatives and Argentina by a military dictatorship, the tide has turned.
So where does that leave us? Today’s Britain, grappling with post-Brexit uncertainty and political fragmentation, might not seem entirely unlike Argentina in 1982 ... a nation seeking cohesion through identity, but struggling to find it. Would the Falkland Islanders have been better off under Argentine rule? Unlikely. But the more provocative question is this:
Shouldn’t people decide where they belong?
Throughout history, borders have been drawn and redrawn without the consent of those living within them. From the Falklands to Ukraine to the Chagos Islands, the pattern is familiar.
Power plays its game; people pay the price.
“Galtieri used us. He wanted to save his regime, not our country.”
— Argentine journalist, 1983
The Falklands War was short, intense, and rich in lessons about the limits of military adventurism, the dangers of miscalculation. But perhaps its most enduring lesson is this: regimes rise and fall, flags are raised and lowered, but people remain.
And maybe that’s the question we should never stop asking: Do WE ever have a say?
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