The Minoans are a fascinating mystery. Apart from samples of writing that no one can decipher, they left behind only material remains—but these are impressive, including art and architecture that was unique in the world during their time.

The first Greek-speakers to appear in Crete took it over as the Minoans faded out. The Mycenaeans were a warlike people, some of whose martial shenanigans provided the plot of the Iliad. But had they arrived as conquerors or mere immigrants?

More about the Mycenaeans’ civilization and the contributions Crete may have made to it.

When the Mycenaeans’ loosely connected and contentious empire fell apart, their method of writing Greek disappeared with it. A four-century “dark age" followed, and when writing reappeared (this time in the brand-new Greek alphabet), the Greek written in Crete was in the Dorian dialect also found in Sparta and other parts of southern and western Greece. Had the Dorians wiped out the more culturally advanced Mycenaeans, or did they move in after the damage had already been done by parties unknown?

The Roman Republic added Crete to its collection of provinces that were soon to be organized as the Roman Empire. Though Crete was no pushover (and some Roman military reputations were among the casualties), the island finally settled into a period of peace, prosperity, and Christian conversion.

When the late Roman Empire was divided between the Greek-speaking east and the Latin-speaking west, Crete made the obvious choice. Byzantine rule was interrupted by a band of warlike, seaborne Arabs who conquered Crete. They destroyed its inland capital, Gortys, and created a new capital on the sea by fortifying the little town of Heraklion. After ruling for 130 years, they were finally overcome by a Byzantine general (and later emperor, and still later assassination victim) named Nikephóros.

A crusade organized to wrest the Holy Land from the Muslims wound up sacking and robbing Christian Constantinople instead. The plunderers (including the Republic of Venice) divided most of the Byzantine empire among themselves, and Venice added to its share by buying Crete from one of the crusade’s other leaders for a mere 100 silver marks. The whole sordid story is here.

Crete was Venice’s first large, agriculturally productive colony, and the rulers expected it to ensure their city’s future grain supply. But this colonial plan soon ran into unexpected difficulties: the nobles to whom they granted land seemed to put their own interests above those of the republic—and wine was a more profitable export than wheat.

Eventually, Venice had to put down a full-fledged revolution, but afterwards a general loosening of control made possible a Cretan Renaissance, in which not only the Venetian nobility, but some privileged Greeks managed to share. One Cretan painter left home and made his way in the great world of art, especially in 16th-century Spain, where he was known as “the Greek,” or El Greco.

During the 1500s, the Ottoman empire grew ever stronger, spreading into southeastern Europe and dominating the eastern Mediterranean, where the Turks soon proved that their naval power was more than a match for Venice’s. One after another, the Venetian strongholds fell, leaving Crete increasingly exposed.

The island of Crete was to be the last major territorial possession that the Turks won from a European power. The invasion came in 1645. Chaniá fell quickly, Réthymno the next year, and a couple of years later the whole island was in Ottoman hands—except the capital. Candia (today’s Iráklio) was massively fortified and could be supplied by sea. It finally surrendered in 1669, after a siege lasting 21 years. But from that point on, the frontier between Turks and Europeans remained essentially unchanged. Behind it, Europe was growing stronger and Turkey weaker.

In Crete, Turks replaced Venetians not only in government but also (no surprise) on the richest estates. But large numbers of Greeks also converted to Islam, and in subsequent decades and centuries, most of Crete’s “Turks“ (a label that indicated religion rather than ethnicity) were descended from Greeks and spoke their language.

Gradually the dust of battle settled, and early in the 18th century, Crete began to prosper. Olive oil was now the big cash crop—English, French, and Dutch cooks were all mad for it, and it even supported a small soap industry. But wine, in spite of Islamic strictures, didn’t disappear from the marketplace either.

Toward the end of the 1700s, yearnings for independence sprouted in many small European countries. Greeks and Cretans rose against the Turks at the urging of Russia, which was less interested in saving them from Ottoman oppression than in making trouble for its enemy the sultan. The uprising, in 1770, was crushed when the help the Russians had promised never came. But the nationalist fires had been lit.

Most of the 19th century, for Crete, was a series of failed rebellions and merciless defeats. Bad publicity about some of the bloodier acts of repression brought international pressure on the Ottomans to grant the Christian majority in Crete some political rights. But the Muslim minority was unwilling to share even a shred of power, and the cycle of risings and suppressions continued. At the 1878 Conference of Berlin, the Powers of Europe directed the sultan to reform Crete’s government and give the majority its fair share of power.

The sultan’s reforms gave the Christians a majority in the Cretan parliament, but the local Muslims still refused to cooperate, and violent conflicts continued. After a large massacre of Christians in Chaniá, the Powers sent a fleet to keep Greece from landing troops on the island and prevent the Ottomans from building up the force they had there. The following year, after a mob in Iráklio killed not only a group of Christian government officials, but also 17 of the British troops who were escorting them, the furious Powers ordered the sultan to get all of his soldiers off the island. Union with Greece was clearly in the future.

A semi-independent Cretan government made little progress toward union (énosis in Greek), but was ultimately outmaneuvered by Elefthérios Venizélos, who set up a rival government and declared Crete a part of Greece. Though true enough, this was still unofficial. Meanwhile, some Greek officers trying to reform their government invited Venizélos to help them negotiate with Greece’s wily politicians. This led, in 1910, to Venizélos being nominated and elected prime minister of Greece, even though he hadn‘t run for any office (and was almost certainly not legally entitled to do so). Within two years, he had Greece ready to join with other Balkan countries in a war against the Ottoman empire. The Greek declaration of war also declared Crete to be a part of the country, and that was it. Nobody objected except the Turks, and they lost the war.