There are moments in a nation’s life when distance is not measured in miles, but in attention, in respect, in political will. The Azores—those nine islands suspended in the middle of the Atlantic, binding continents and histories—know this distance all too well. For decades, they have been both central and peripheral, indispensable yet too often disregarded by the very Republic they help define.

Recent developments surrounding the long-delayed revision of the Regional Finance Law have once again stirred a familiar unease across the archipelago. What should have been a moment of institutional clarity has instead devolved into postponement, ambiguity, and political drift. Meetings have been held, proposals drafted—most notably by the respected Professor Paz Ferreira—and promises made. Yet, as so often happens, those promises dissolve into further studies, new committees, and shifting timelines. Now, the Prime Minister has publicly acknowledged that the issue will not even be addressed in 2026, pushing resolution into 2027 at the earliest.

This is not governance. It is deferral masquerading as deliberation.

For the Azores, such delays are not abstract. They shape budgets, constrain development, and undermine the very autonomy that was constitutionally recognized in 1976—not as a concession, but as a democratic achievement born from the same revolutionary spirit that restored freedom to Portugal. To postpone the financial framework that sustains that autonomy is, in effect, to hollow it out.

It is therefore not unreasonable—indeed, it is necessary—to call upon the elected representatives of the Azores and Madeira in the national parliament to demand accountability. If the government continues to stall, these representatives must consider stronger measures, including breaking from party discipline to defend the regions they were elected to serve. Loyalty to party cannot supersede responsibility to people.

Beyond the legislative impasse lies a deeper, more troubling pattern: a narrative in which the Azores are either overlooked or reduced to a footnote. News coverage frequently fails to recognize the islands’ central role in transatlantic dynamics. This omission is not merely symbolic—it reflects a broader misunderstanding of what the Azores represent.

Geographically, strategically, historically, the Azores are not peripheral. They are a hinge between worlds—a gateway connecting the United States and the European Union, a crossroads of military, economic, and cultural significance. The Lajes Air Base alone stands as testament to this enduring relevance. Yet, despite this, the islands are too often treated as an afterthought, as if their importance were conditional rather than intrinsic.

The people of the Azores understand their own value. They have built, across centuries and storms, a society defined by resilience and cohesion. They inhabit what might be called a vast, living vessel—a “great aircraft carrier of peace,” spread across hundreds of kilometers of ocean, uniting east and west, memory and future.

And yet, paradoxically, within the national discourse, the Azores are sometimes framed as a burden—an economic weight rather than a strategic asset. This perception is not only inaccurate; it is profoundly unjust. The islands expand Portugal’s geopolitical reach, amplify its voice on the global stage, and anchor its identity in the Atlantic. To see them as a liability is to misunderstand the very nature of the nation.

It must be said, however, that the relationship between the Republic and the Azores has not been static. Each President of Portugal’s democratic era has, in different ways, engaged with the autonomy project. From Ramalho Eanes, who personally delivered the first definitive Statute, to Mário Soares, whose tenure saw both resistance and eventual stabilization; from Jorge Sampaio’s cautious stance to Cavaco Silva’s constitutional challenges; and finally to Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa, navigating an era of global transformation—each presidency has left its mark.

But the trajectory of autonomy has never been linear. It has moved through phases—progressive, reivindicative, cooperative—each shaped by moments of trust and tension. What remains constant is the need for evolution. Autonomy, by its very nature, cannot be static. It must adapt, respond, grow.

Today, that growth demands courage. It demands that the Azores assert their needs clearly and that the Republic listens—not out of obligation, but out of recognition. Recognition that these islands are not a distant appendage, but an integral part of the national fabric.

The Atlantic does not divide Portugal from the Azores. It defines them both.

And in that vast expanse of water lies not separation, but possibility—if only the political will exists to see it.

Translated and Adapted from an oped by Natalino Viveiros, director of Correio dos Açores.