Butting into the Istanbul skyline like a trio of stumpy minarets, three luxury apartment towers loom above the city’s historic peninsula, destroying a majestic silhouette of domes and spires that has remained unchanged for centuries. But now, in an unprecedented ruling, an order from the highest court in Turkey has ordered the buildings to be pulled down.

The OnaltiDokuz Residence, which comprises three graceless shafts of 27, 32 and 37 storeys in the western district of Zeytinburnu, claimed to “redefine what it means to be a citizen”, offering its wealthy residents “a new perspective with breathtaking panoramic views”. Its million-pound penthouses were to provide a “unique living philosophy”, a vantage point from which “the city surrounds you in all its magnificence”. But the city itself wasn’t so keen. The development sparked widespread outrage, lumbering into view like an uninvited guest, photobombing cherished vistas of the 400-year-old Blue Mosque, Topkapi Palace and Hagia Sophia.

Now the Turkish Council of State has weighed in, approving an earlier ruling by an Istanbul court in May that ordered the buildings’ demolition. It ruled that the structures were illegal, as they “negatively affected the world heritage site that the Turkish government was obliged to protect”. The decision follows earlier murmurings from Unesco, that the city might be placed on its endangered list if the rampant construction continues to press ahead unabated. It is a landmark ruling, but not one that helps to clarify the legal situation of Istanbul’s unstoppable building boom in the slightest.

While the debate was raging earlier this year, the country’s crane-loving prime minister (now president-elect) Recep Tayyip Erdogan claimed ignorance. “I didn’t know,” he said. “I cannot count the buildings going up every time I come. Can you count stars?” He said he had spoken with the project’s developer, his good friend Mesut Toprak of Astay real estate, and “asked him to give [the towers] a haircut. He didn’t do it. I was very offended. I haven’t spoken to him for five years.”

Erdogan’s critics aren’t convinced, suggesting crocodile tears. Former culture minister Ertugrul Günay spoke out after leaving his ministerial post in December. “The prime minister has never given up being the mayor of Istanbul,” he said. “He is personally keeping track of giant construction projects all over the country. High-rises in Istanbul can only be done with his permission.”

A closer look at the development’s history suggests further irregularities. In 2007, the government sold the land to Toprak for 270m lira (about £75m). At the time, the city zoning plan marked these plots as commercial areas that would allow a maximum of five floors of construction. Yet immediately after the sale, the Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality modified the zoning plan, making the development site worth 10 times its previous value overnight.

Such cases are not uncommon, with recent policy changes further lubricating the path for historic neighbourhoods to be trampled and towers to rise ever higher. The government’s critics claim that the laws regulating the construction sector have been repeatedly watered down since Erdogan’s ruling AK party came to power. Turkey’s Public Tender Act has been amended 31 times since then, according to Oya Ozarslan, head of the local chapter of anti-corruption watchdog Transparency International, creating loopholes that developers are all too ready to exploit.

While planning law is relentlessly bored into a Swiss cheese, Erdogan continues to pronounce on architectural matters, like an Ottoman-flavoured Prince Charles. “I side with a form of architecture that accords with our culture,” he declared back in April. “In Istanbul and Ankara, there are structures that have gone against the characters of both cities. I don’t approve of vertical structures; I rather favour horizontal ones.” His solution? Mega-basements for every building: “Four storeys should be above the ground, while the other four should be built underground.”

While Erdogan might publicly denounce the high-rise craze, his ground-scrapers can be just as damaging. His penchant for reviving ancient forms came to a head in Taksim Square, when his preposterous proposal to bulldoze Gezi Park for a new shopping mall, modelled as a steroidal reincarnation of a neo-Ottoman barracks, sparked national protests that escalated into a violent struggle and worldwide condemnation.

Not that it has dissuaded him from pressing ahead. He has vowed to continue with his 150bn lira (£42bn) construction mania that includes a third Istanbul airport, planned to be one of the world’s biggest, a new bridge over the Bosphorus, a high-speed train line to Ankara and a giant shipping canal. “We have a saying in Turkish: the rocks and earth of Istanbul are gold,” said Günay. “They truly are. Some people have been working Istanbul like a gold mine.”

As for the Zeytinburnu demolition ruling, it leaves the city open to a stratospheric compensation claim, given that it granted the construction permit and merrily cheered the building on – as well as the fact that all the apartments have now been sold.

Lawyer Cihat Gökdemir, who first brought the case, has a novel solution. He says the municipal council approved the scheme with the votes of all parties. “I will divide the compensation to be paid pro rata to a number of council members and ask each of them to pay their share,” he said. “I will sue them for squandering public funds.”

