It’s a bit like asking why France can’t just have the Azores… because they can’t. However, this is worth looking into in order to understand it better: (Get ready for a history lesson)

Firstly, Argentina has no legitimate claim to the Falklands. It has no right to them. The Falklands were first discovered by English Captain John Davis in 1592 and first claimed by English Admiral Sir Richard Hawkins in 1594 from where they received their first given name, “Hawkins Maiden Land”. This importantly makes England (and therefore the UK latterly by law of Succession of States) the lawful Original Sovereign, which is one of the most powerful terms in international law regarding territory.

At this time, international law wasn’t a very exact science but there were certain agreements one had to uphold. One was usage of that territory (no settlement was required) and the other was to publish newly claimed territories in the only pan-European newspaper, The Luxembourger, both of which were done. Yes, everyone knew they were British.

Go forward to 1690 and Great Britain, represented by Captain John Strong, sends a mission to the Falklands, convened by Anthony Carey, 5th Viscount Falkland and Head of the Navy, to take Formal Possession. Strong becomes the first man to set foot on the Falklands and plants the British flag. The mission then maps and charts the islands and finally, with a decent enough idea of them, they are published to the world in the 1700 World Atlas under their new name of “Falkland’s Islands” and then in the revised 1702 edition finally as “The Falkland Islands”.

At around this time, somewhere between 1702–1708 French sailors from St Malo started to put in on the Falklands for shelter and referred to them as “Malouines” and it was first seen in writing between 1708–1710 although France claimed no sovereignty. Then France lost “New France” – which we now call Canada – to Britain and things began to change.

French Admiral Antoine de Bougainville, had to sign the surrender in Canada and French Foreign Minister Henri de Choiseul, had the ignominious duty to formally sign the cession of New France over to Britain. From there, they became close friends who seethed to punish the British for humiliating them, in the most decisive way they could: they were going to conquer Britain itself.

Choiseul hit upon an old plan which had nearly worked a few times before. He needed to distract the British army so that he could send a force to attack London, and so he called upon Bonnie Prince Charlie. This was in 1758, twelve years after Culloden, and the Prince was no longer the beautiful hero of his youth but a corpulent alcoholic. He turned up late, he turned up drunk, he was impossible to work with and then exploded at Choiseul, who somehow didn’t quite understand that the Highland clans had been broken up and that there was no more Highland army. Choiseul dismissed him, but the idea was firmly set.

Fast forward a few more years and Bougainville and Choiseul have a brainwave: They’re going to land displaced Acadians (French Canadians) on these new “Falkland Islands” and pretend they’ve just discovered them. Then, using a clause from the Treaty of Utrecht, they will throw their hands in the air, declare “mea culpa” and give these islands to Spain. When Britain finds out, there will be a war 8,000 miles south and with the Royal Navy away, the French invasion can begin. Choiseul, convinced he’s got a cast iron strategy, even submits three different plans for the invasion to the War Ministry (which still exist in their archives) for an invasion requiring no less than 100,000 men. There’s one glitch though: the British have announced they are getting ready to build a settlement and France has to act quickly.

In late 1764 the French land there first and begin building Port Louis on East Falkland as a few months later, in early 1765 the British land on West Falkland and begin building Port Egmont. The British had no idea that the French were there.

Then in 1767 France throws the door open to Spain and offers them the islands and the Spanish, full of bluster and a faux ruptured pride, set off… and can’t find the Falklands. A second time they try… still nothing. Finally, Bougainville has to take them himself, describing the Falklands as “Some islands which no Spaniard has ever been to or seen and which, seemingly, they are unable to find for themselves.”

Here was the rub; Bougainville quite liked the islands and was getting rather annoyed at haughty Spanish pretensions to them and assertions that they were theirs all along, whilst they couldn’t even find them. Finally the day came for a deal which, oddly, was only for East Falkland, and here they tripped up. Bougainville put in his terms that he would sell them to the Spanish. The Spanish, asserting that anything in this part of the globe must be theirs by Papal decree (a complete croc, but there you go) say no, they will only compensate Bougainville for his time and for costs incurred in building the settlement. In the end, neither agree, but both pretend to, and both sides diddle the other in this sham of a deal over stolen British property.

Finally, British and Spanish sailors meet when a British ship, seeing a floundering Spanish vessel, go to help, and then find themselves abused and told to go away. Spain rages and shouts about the British presence and in London, a Spanish Prince arrives with an entourage of diplomats, enquiring after the British title to sovereignty. He is shown the maps, the atlas, the charts, the newspaper and so on, and agrees that yes, Britain has the prior right.

In Madrid, this doesn’t go down too well, so it is determined to find out the validity of the British claim and the acknowledged leading expert in international sovereignty law, the Italian Foreign Minister, is asked to look at the case and pronounce upon who owned the Falklands.

In Versailles, there is a meeting in which finally, the Italian Foreign Minister bursts in and announces his findings: Spain has been sold a dead dog. The French have diddled them. The Falklands are British. The Spanish go crazy at Bougainville and Choiseul who are right on cue, as Choiseul suggests that, in that case, Spain had better attack and remove the British settlement before it gets any bigger. In 1770 Spain attacks and it’s no competition. The British are eradicated.

In London, this outrage is condemned and George III vows revenge. Choiseul’s plan is working perfectly. The British mobilisation, however, is off the chart. Inside a month, Britain readies fifty new warships whilst Spain barely manages ten, and then George III announces to hell with fighting the Spanish in the Falklands, we’re going to attack mainland Spain. The Spanish king has apoplexy, rounds on his ministers yelling “I told you I did not want war!” and quickly backs down, apologises for the faux pas and agrees to restore Port Egmont and recognise West Falkland as British. Britain says “Thank you, but it’s all British, remember? You got conned.”

Choiseul’s plan is in tatters, and Britain and Spain coexist in the Falklands, each pretending the other doesn’t exist, but realising how close they had come to a French plot. Both sides agree to retrench and talk about it another day. Britain leaves in 1775 after leaving a flag flying and a plaque claiming the Falklands with a promise to return at a better time. Spain reneges on the deal and promptly removes the plaque, staying on East Falkland. The British still utilise the Falklands for fishing and shelter and administer them through the Admiralty and in 1802 at the Treaty of Amiens, Napoleon and Talleyrand even ask Lord Cornwallis if they could be a bartering point, although he refused.

Eventually, by 1811 the Spanish, having turned Port Louis into a penal colony, decide to pull out too. Spain is under attack by Napoleon and Britain is now its greatest ally. The Falklands are now empty.

Then, in 1820 an American pirate in the service of Buenos Aires, Daniel Jewett, crash lands there after a storm and a mutiny on his ship. He finds British ships in port and starts waving guns about, claiming the islands for Buenos Aires Province, but he leaves soon after, bound for Buenos Aires. He issues a highly detailed 13 page report in which he doesn’t even mention going to the Falklands (despite mentioning everything else) and leaves Buenos Aires shortly after, in an argument about pay. Only 13 months later does an article appear in the Salem Gazette in America, claiming Jewett had been there. The incident goes unnoticed.

By 1825 the now independent United Provinces of the Rio de la Plata begin to form Argentina and put together a detailed list of all territories, islands, longitudes and latitudes claimed by the new state, in order to get international recognition. This list did not include the Falklands and Britain accepted Argentina as such, signing the Treaty of Friendship and Trade.

In 1826 a German businessman, Luis Vernet, asks for permission to start a ranching business on the Falklands and Britain, under pressure from the Dutch to do something with these islands, or else they’d like a go, decide that Vernet could fit the bill nicely. They know he is dodgy. He claims to be French and has a vague past, but despite concerns: “He had more of the diplomat about him than rancher” and even considering how we might use him in some diplomatic role, the British give their permission. What wasn’t known was that Vernet had also asked Buenos Aires for permission and had already tried one venture there and failed. This new venture fails also, but Vernet asks British permission to return and try again, and is accepted. He continues to send back regular reports to the British on his progress in building what they rightfully assume is their settlement.

By 1828 Vernet has failed for a third time and is now bankrupt. He dare not ask Britain for help in case he is told to get out, so he turns to the government of Buenos Aires, especially as they owe him money. They have no money, so send a ship with weapons and their own flag, and Vernet claims the Falklands.

Britain protests and Buenos Aires ignores it as Vernet turns to piracy and attacks three American ships. The USA sends the USS Lexington to bombard the settlement and arrest the leading men (although Vernet had by now left, never to return) and the remaining people there, a mixture of British, German, African, West Indian and gaucho, are abandoned. Some still try piracy to supplement themselves. The USA readies another mission but asks Britain if it would like to step in, and with a second diplomatic protest having been ignored, the British agree to go. On January 3rd 1833 HMS Clio arrives to find a small garrison of Buenos Aires soldiers and the warship Sarandi.

The British advise the Sarandi’s Captain Pinedo that he’s on British land and tell him to go. Pinedo blusters and considers making a fight of it, but leaves under protest. The good news is, his men were packed and ready to go anyway, as their own orders were to abandon the place before January 5th. The people on the islands are fed, paid and encouraged to stay on as British subjects and only four people; two Uruguayans and two Brazilians, decide to leave. The rest stay on. Meanwhile, Buenos Aires protests to Britain (suddenly remembering how protests work) and Britain now returns the favour and ignores them.

Vernet is put up for charges of piracy and is only saved when Buenos Aires legitimizes him, but then seeks compensation from Britain, claiming that he was always in favour of British sovereignty and should have been protected. In the end, Britain pays him to go away.

In 1848 there is a great convention in Lima, Peru, where Spain, realising it’s a bit silly to pretend it owns South America still, presides over the partition and cession of its former lands under a new principle called “Uti Possidetis Juris” a signed and agreed act of cession. Everyone turns up to the Lima Convention except for Argentina, who refuse to sign up to it.

In 1849 Britain and Argentina agree to end their differences with the Convention of Settlement which settles all outstanding issues and restores perfect friendship. This treaty was governed by the overarching clause that “All disputed territory, unless specifically mentioned in the treaty, is to remain with the conqueror and his title cannot afterwards be called into question.”

Argentine President Rosas enquired after Lord Palmerston if he (Rosas) had signed away the claim to the Falklands and was told yes. Rosas had already written twice to Palmerston offering to do just that, first in return for a cancellation of loans from Barings Bank (which was refused) and then as a sweetener for other Argentine conditions. Palmerston replied “I understand the matter to be exactly as described by you in your letters” after which, Argentina ratified the treaty in 1850.

From 1849–1946 Argentina issued not one formal diplomatic protest to the UK, nor was the word “Malvinas” mentioned once in Congress from 1850–1941. It is evident that Argentina had given up any loose or spurious pretensions to claiming the Falklands.

In 1863 Spain finally recognised Argentina as a country, but without the Falklands, as evidenced by the fact that in that same year, Spain finally recognised British sovereignty over them and, as a final nail in the coffin to any Argentine claims, in 1882, the Argentine government pronounced all formative acts of the original government of Buenos Aires to be null and void. In short, anything Jewett or Vernet did was now illegitimate in Argentine eyes.

The Falklands grew, the new capital of Stanley was built and people migrated there. In 1914 they watched British warships pummel the German fleet on their doorsteps as Falklands men went off to war. From 1939–1945 the Falklands sent more men, started a war fund and financed ten spitfires for the battle of Britain… and then at the war’s end, in 1946, Argentina, after 97 years of accepting British sovereignty, suddenly raised it’s hand and said, “Malvinas?”

So why can’t the Falklands just be given to Argentina, the question asked… because they’re British, that’s why. Because Argentina has no claim to our islands or our people, and because in 2013 those same people, whose ancestors were there before 1833, voted 99’8% for British sovereignty and achieved self determination.

The matter is settled.