Los Monjes Archipelago

islandmilitarycaribbeanterritorial-disputemaritime-history
4 min read

From the air, they look like nothing worth fighting over. Three clusters of bare rock jut from the Caribbean roughly 80 kilometers northwest of the Gulf of Venezuela, their combined area barely 0.2 square kilometers - smaller than most city parks. No beaches. No fresh water. No trees. Yet the Los Monjes Archipelago has provoked diplomatic notes, royal arbitration, Swiss legal rulings, naval standoffs, and at least one incident that brought two South American nations to the brink of war. The Spanish explorer Alonso de Ojeda spotted these rocks in 1499 and named them for their resemblance to the cowled hoods of monks. Five centuries later, the monks still stand their silent watch, and the argument about who owns them has never fully resolved.

Sovereignty by Centuries of Paper

The ownership question begins in the colonial era and runs through a paper trail of treaties, arbitrations, and diplomatic notes spanning nearly two hundred years. The Michelena-Pombo Treaty of 1833 divided the Guajira Peninsula between Venezuela and Colombia, but the Venezuelan Congress refused to ratify it, considering its terms unfavorable. In 1856, Venezuela protested a Colombian attempt to grant a guano concession on the islands. In 1871, Venezuela formally incorporated Los Monjes into its Territorio Colon, alongside the Los Roques archipelago and other offshore islands. Queen Maria Cristina of Spain weighed in with an 1891 arbitration ruling on the broader Guajira boundary, and a Swiss arbitration in 1922 reiterated those terms. The decisive moment came in 1952, when Colombian foreign minister Juan Uribe Holguin issued diplomatic note GM-542, formally recognizing Venezuelan sovereignty. On November 29 of that year, the Venezuelan flag rose over the islands for the first time, and a scientific-military observatory was established under the government of General Marcos Perez Jimenez.

The Day the F-16s Scrambled

Recognition on paper did not settle matters at sea. On August 9, 1987, the Colombian naval corvette ARC Caldas sailed into disputed waters near the archipelago - waters Venezuela considers its own. What followed was nine days of escalating tension. Venezuelan and Colombian warships exchanged radio demands to withdraw. The Venezuelan frigate ARV Independencia cut across the Caldas's bow, an openly hostile maneuver. Then Venezuela scrambled F-16 fighter jets for low-altitude passes over the Colombian corvette. The pilots reported the ship's guns were not readied for combat, and no shots were fired. Diplomatic intervention by the Organization of American States and Argentine President Raul Alfonsin eventually defused the crisis. The Caldas withdrew without a fight, but the episode revealed how quickly these barren rocks could ignite a regional conflict. The underlying maritime boundary in the Gulf of Venezuela remains unresolved.

Rock, Concrete, and a Bridge Between Islands

The geography of Los Monjes is austere. The islands are sheer rock faces rising from deep water, without a single natural landing point. The Venezuelan Navy constructed a pier on El Sur, the largest island group, but everything the garrison needs - food, water, fuel - must be shipped from the mainland, a supply run usually originating from the Guajira or Paraguana Peninsula. Monjes del Sur, the southern group, consists of two islands reaching a maximum height of 70 meters, topped by a lighthouse. Monjes del Este is a solitary rock 5.3 kilometers to the northeast, 43 meters tall. Monjes del Norte, 12.3 kilometers farther northwest, is a scatter of five small rocks. In 1999, President Rafael Caldera inaugurated a remarkable engineering project: an artificial rock bridge connecting the two main islands of Monjes del Sur, built by blasting material from the islands themselves and filling the gap with rubble reclaimed from the sea. A security port was completed alongside it.

Strategic Weight in Empty Water

Why fight over rocks that produce nothing? The answer lies beneath the surface. The Gulf of Venezuela sits atop significant petroleum reserves, and maritime boundaries determine who controls drilling rights. Los Monjes serves as a geographic reference point in those boundary calculations - the 1978 Maritime Boundary Treaty between Venezuela and the Netherlands used the archipelago as a baseline for drawing the border with Aruba, then part of the Netherlands Antilles. Control of Los Monjes influences how far Venezuela's exclusive economic zone extends into some of the Caribbean's richest waters. The Venezuelan Navy maintains its garrison not for the rocks themselves but for the legal weight those rocks carry. Fishing boats from Guajira and Paraguana work the surrounding waters, and the Bolivarian Navy honored the archipelago in 2012 by naming a landing craft after it. The monks remain silent, indifferent to the strategic calculations swirling around their feet, but their position on the map continues to matter far more than their barren surfaces suggest.

From the Air

Los Monjes Archipelago sits at approximately 12.43N, 70.88W, about 80 km northwest of the Gulf of Venezuela. From cruising altitude, the three island groups appear as tiny dark specks against open Caribbean water - Monjes del Sur with its lighthouse is the most visible. The nearest major airports are SVMC (La Chinita International, Maracaibo) approximately 200 km to the southeast, and TNCA (Queen Beatrix International, Aruba) roughly 100 km to the northeast. The Paraguana Peninsula and Guajira Peninsula are visible landmarks to the east and south. Expect clear Caribbean conditions most of the year, with occasional tropical weather during hurricane season.