Something significant has changed in the way people are reaching Greece.
For years, the eastern Aegean was the country’s main maritime gateway. Boats crossed the narrow stretches of water separating Turkey from Lesvos, Chios, Samos, Kos and other Greek islands.
Today, the picture is very different.
Nearly 12,000 people have reached Greece from Libya so far this year, compared with around 5,000 who have arrived on the eastern Aegean islands from Turkey.
A route that barely registered in Greece’s arrival statistics only three years ago has developed into the country’s largest individual maritime arrival route.
The obvious question is not only how quickly this happened.
It is why.
Why are increasing numbers of people travelling hundreds of kilometres across open Mediterranean Sea from Libya when Greece can be reached from Turkey across some of the narrowest stretches of the Aegean?
There is no single answer.
War and displacement, changing movements through North Africa, increasingly established smuggling networks in eastern Libya and intensified border enforcement in the Aegean all appear to be part of a much larger change in the geography of people trying to reach Europe.

From 815 arrivals to almost 20,000
The speed at which the Libya–Crete route has developed is remarkable.
In 2023, only 815 people were recorded arriving on Crete and Gavdos. The following year, more than 5,000 arrived.
By the end of 2025, the Hellenic Coast Guard had recorded almost 20,000.
The increase has continued this year.
According to figures provided directly by the Hellenic Coast Guard to Refugee Support Aegean, 8,552 people arrived on Crete and Gavdos during the first six months of 2026.
Greek authorities now report that the number arriving from Libya is approaching 12,000.
Those figures are necessary to understand what is happening, but they represent people, not simply a changing line on a graph.
At least 780 children were among those arriving during the first six months of this year.
More than 3,000 were Sudanese. Hundreds came from South Sudan and Eritrea. Others came from Bangladesh, Egypt and elsewhere.
For many, reaching Libya came only after an extraordinarily long and difficult journey. Crossing the Mediterranean was simply the next stage.

Sudan, Egypt and a changing route through North Africa
One important part of the explanation can be found much further south.
The war in Sudan, which began in April 2023, has created one of the world’s largest displacement crises.

Photo: UNHCR/Ala Kheir
Millions have fled their homes, many initially seeking protection in neighbouring Egypt.
But life in Egypt has become increasingly difficult for many Sudanese refugees.
Rising living costs, difficulties obtaining or maintaining legal residency, arrests and deportations have been documented, while humanitarian assistance has struggled to meet enormous needs.
Increasing numbers have subsequently travelled west towards Libya.
For someone already in Egypt, eastern Libya is geographically close.
And on the coast around Tobruk, another development has been taking place.
Why Tobruk?
Smuggling activity from eastern Libya has changed considerably during the last few years.
Tobruk and surrounding areas have developed into important departure points for boats heading north across the Mediterranean.
The overwhelming majority of people reaching Crete and Gavdos depart from Libya. Hellenic Coast Guard data show that 99.4% of those arriving there during 2025 had departed from the Libyan coast, most from eastern Libya.
Smuggling networks have adapted to demand and opportunity.
Crete and particularly Gavdos now lie at the northern end of an established route.
But it is nothing like crossing the Aegean.
A much longer and more dangerous crossing
At its narrowest points, only a very small stretch of sea separates Turkey from some of the eastern Aegean islands.
From eastern Libya to Crete or Gavdos, people instead face hundreds of kilometres of open Mediterranean.
Journeys can last many hours or days.
Boats are frequently overcrowded and unsuitable for open-sea crossings. People may have little food or water and almost no protection from the weather.
Engine failure far from land can quickly become a life-threatening emergency.
People arriving are regularly reported suffering from exhaustion, dehydration and exposure. Others never arrive.
As the route has grown, so have reports of shipwrecks, deaths and disappearances.
And yet there is another striking difference between these two routes.
It concerns what happens when Greek authorities encounter the boats.
Two seas — two very different responses
Anyone following the daily announcements of the Hellenic Coast Guard will notice something remarkable.
Around Crete and Gavdos, reports of rescue operations are routine.
Greek Coast Guard vessels, Frontex assets and merchant ships locate boats south of the islands. People are taken aboard and transported to Greek ports.
Sometimes hundreds are rescued within only a few days.

This week alone, more than 300 people reached southern Crete or were rescued at sea within approximately 24 hours.
The picture in the eastern Aegean is very different.
Genuine search-and-rescue operations certainly take place there, particularly when boats capsize or people are in immediate danger.
But ABR’s daily monitoring of the Aegean also documents a very different pattern: boats intercepted before reaching the islands, people hiding after reaching Greek territory because they fear being returned, and cases in which people who had already reached Greek islands disappeared before later being found in Turkish waters.
We have documented people being taken from Greek territory, placed into inflatable life rafts without engines and abandoned at sea.

These practices are no longer based merely on allegations from Aegean Boat Report.
Illegal pushbacks by Greek authorities have been extensively documented by international organisations, journalists, human rights groups and European institutions. The European Court of Human Rights has also found Greece responsible for unlawful summary returns.
So why do we see such a different response south of Crete?
Part of the answer may simply be geography.
There is no Turkey opposite Crete
The geography of the eastern Aegean makes the pushback system documented there possible.
In places, Turkey is only a few kilometres away, and Turkish Coast Guard vessels operate immediately across the maritime boundary.
People pushed towards Turkish waters — or abandoned in engineless life rafts near the boundary — are frequently recovered by Turkish authorities.
Whatever the political relationship between Greece and Turkey, the practical reality is that there is another coast guard nearby to retrieve them.
South of Crete, that geography does not exist.
A boat encountered 30 or 40 nautical miles south of Gavdos may already have travelled hundreds of kilometres from Libya.
There is no neighbouring coastline a few kilometres away. There is no “Libyan Coast Guard” waiting immediately across a narrow maritime boundary.
Attempting to reproduce the Aegean model there would therefore be something entirely different.
Abandoning people without propulsion hundreds of kilometres from Libya, or attempting to force an unsuitable and overcrowded vessel back across such a distance, would create an obvious and potentially lethal risk.
The daily Coast Guard reports around Crete reflect a very different operational reality.
People are located.
They are rescued.
They are brought ashore.
Has deterrence changed the route?
This raises a difficult question.
For years, Greece and the European Union have invested enormous resources in preventing crossings through the eastern Aegean.
The region is heavily surveilled. Turkey intercepts large numbers of boats before they reach Greece. Frontex operates throughout the region.



And Greek authorities have repeatedly been documented illegally returning people who reached or attempted to reach Greek territory.
Meanwhile, another route has grown extraordinarily quickly.
It would be wrong to claim that Greek pushbacks in the Aegean caused the Libya–Crete route.
There is no evidence that the thousands now travelling from Libya are simply the same people who would otherwise have attempted the Aegean route. The changing pattern is far more complex than that.
The war in Sudan, displacement through Egypt, conditions in Libya, changing smuggling networks and border enforcement all appear to be contributing. Many people travelling through Libya may never have considered travelling through Turkey at all.
But the broader question remains legitimate:
Has increasingly aggressive deterrence along the shorter Aegean route contributed to displacement towards longer and more dangerous journeys?
If making one route increasingly difficult does not stop people from moving, but contributes to movement through other routes, what has actually been achieved?
A strange paradox
There is now a striking paradox at Greece’s maritime borders.
Someone attempting to reach Samos from Turkey may have only a very short distance of sea to cross.
Yet they face Turkish interception, extensive surveillance and the documented risk of illegal return even after reaching Greek territory.
Someone leaving Tobruk faces hundreds of kilometres of open Mediterranean Sea.
The journey itself is vastly longer and potentially far more dangerous.
Yet the daily reports from south of Crete routinely describe boats being located, their passengers rescued and brought ashore — a striking contrast with what ABR has documented for years in the eastern Aegean.
We cannot quantify the difference in the likelihood of reaching Greece safely without reliable data on all attempted departures from Libya.
But the contrast visible in daily Coast Guard reports — and in years of ABR monitoring in the Aegean — is difficult to ignore.
A shorter route has become extremely difficult to complete.
A vastly longer route has become increasingly established.
That should make European policymakers ask uncomfortable questions about what deterrence actually accomplishes.
Crete became a gateway before it became prepared
There is another consequence of the rapid change.
Crete has become one of Greece’s principal points of arrival without developing an adequate permanent reception system.
And this did not happen overnight.
The number of people arriving has increased dramatically for three consecutive years.
Nevertheless, people rescued after spending hours or days at sea continue to be accommodated in temporary facilities never designed to receive hundreds of newly arrived people.
Refugee Support Aegean has documented inadequate sanitation, overcrowding and people sleeping on floors and makeshift bedding.

This can no longer reasonably be described as an unforeseen emergency.
Authorities have watched this route develop since 2023.
The infrastructure simply has not developed with it.
From Libya to Crete — and then to the Aegean
There is another consequence of this changing geography.
People who cross from Africa to Crete are subsequently transported to reception facilities elsewhere in Greece — including on the eastern Aegean islands.

During the first half of this year, around 450 people were transferred from Heraklion to Kos, with further transfers to Kos and Leros following.
These are islands where Greece and the European Union spent enormous sums constructing Closed Controlled Access Centres largely in response to arrivals from Turkey.
Today, some of those facilities accommodate people who reached Greece by travelling from Africa across an entirely different sea.
It is a striking illustration of how quickly migration routes can change — and how slowly migration policy often changes with them.
The Aegean has not disappeared
None of this means that crossings from Turkey have stopped.
Boats continue to arrive on Lesvos, Chios, Samos, Kos, Rhodes and smaller islands.
Aegean Boat Report continues to receive calls from people hiding after reaching Greek territory because they fear being found and illegally returned.
We continue to document interceptions, disappearances and pushbacks.
But the relative scale has changed.
So far this year, roughly 5,000 people have reached the eastern Aegean islands from Turkey.
Nearly 12,000 have reached Greece from Libya.
The numbers tell us that something fundamental has changed.
Understanding why matters far more than simply counting the boats.
Closing a route does not stop the reasons people move
Migration policy often speaks about “closing routes”.
But routes are not the reason people move.
War, persecution, violence, instability and the absence of protection do not disappear because a border becomes harder to cross.
People and the networks facilitating their journeys adapt, and routes change.
Sometimes the result may be displacement towards other routes — including journeys across hundreds of kilometres of open Mediterranean.
We cannot say that Europe’s deterrence policies created the Libya–Crete route. There are too many other forces shaping what is happening.
But neither should Europe assume that reducing arrivals at one particular border means that fewer people need protection or that fewer people will try to move.
The extraordinary growth of the Libya–Crete route should force a more difficult question:
Are Europe’s border policies actually stopping migration — or are they helping change where, and how dangerously, people travel?
Aegean Boat Report


































