Severed Ties and Future Aspirations: Youth Perspective on the Cypriot Conflict
By Elisabeth Fassas, 2014 Dean’s Undergraduate Research Award
Upon landing in Cyprus, I was immediately thrust into the modern manifestations of the Greek-Turkish conflict that erupted polemically in July of 1974. Travelling by cab from the airport in Larnaca to the divided city of Nicosia, we came to a mountain range on my left side, brown and bare of trees, but blatantly adorned with a red and white Turkish flag. About 450 meters in length, this flag covers an area larger than that of four football fields. My cab driver had been silent for the trip up to that point. He had no knowledge of my project or of the research that I intended on conducting in Cyprus, but at this juncture he nonetheless spoke. “That is the Turkish flag”, my driver started, “so the bastards can remind us every day of what happened.”
Introduction
Within the context of our highly globalized and interconnected world, the ethno-political tensions that plague the island nation of Cyprus offer an acute representation of the stifled progress inhibiting the growth of the country’s economic and social infrastructure. While the Greco-Turkish relations in Cyprus and throughout the Aegean Sea have remained contentious throughout the 20th and 21st centuries, the importance of these tensions arises in their development in each subsequent generation raised within the context of this conflict. The political division of the island fosters generation-old animosities whose repercussions remain palpable for the youth. This youth’s educational and employment opportunities are currently divided in half, as the island is physically divided in half, on the basis of their cultural and religious affiliations. The question then arises as to whether the ideals that have succeeded in maintaining these divisions retain any practical importance in the lives of today’s Cypriot youth. Are their personal and professional aspirations impeded by the half-nation in which they reside and this half’s integration in the greater global community? My project thus aims to evaluate the extent to which the youth of both Greek and Turkish descent has inherited the stories of their parents and grandparents, and subsequently, the possible animosities and prejudices which these experiences foster.
Historical Background
Maintaining its status as Europe’s last divided city, Nicosia, capital of the small island nation of Cyprus, serves as a physical representation of the social, religious and political animosities that plague the Greek-Turkish relationship in the Mediterranean. This conflict ultimately dates back to the Ottoman annexation of Constantinople in 1453, traces its roots through three-hundred years of Greek enslavement by the Turks, the Greek and Armenian Genocide of 1915 and culminates in the Turkish invasion of the island-nation of Cyprus on July 20th, 1974. In the times of Alexander the Great and Cleopatra, Cyprus was considered to be the “gem of the Mediterranean”, maintaining an ideal climate for crop growth and serving as a checkpoint for all nautical traffic between the Hellenic, Roman and Egyptian Empires. The majority of the Cypriot populace maintained both religious and linguistic connections to Greece throughout most of its history, and thus shared a similar fate with Greece when the Ottoman Empire gained control of the Balkans after its annexation of Constantinople in 1453. From 1453 onward, Cyprus and Greece were annexed as Ottoman territories, their citizens living under Ottoman rule. For approximately 300 years, citizens from both nations served as slaves to Ottomans who had moved onto the land. However, unlike Greece, whose citizens waged a war for their independence from the Turks in 1821, the island-nation of Cyprus would not get this opportunity until after the Second World War.
Losing its stronghold in the Balkans after three-hundred years of domination in the region, on June 29th, 1878, the Ottoman government signed an agreement at the Berlin Conference to grant Great Britain control over the island. This transfer of power was officially and internationally recognized about two weeks later, on July 13th of that year, while British admiral Lord John Hay had already landed with his fleet on the Cypriot shore. Hopeful that this new ruling power would finally allow for Cypriot unification with the Greek nation, the Cypriot populace embraced British rule. This hope for unity with the Greek ‘motherland’ would come to define Greek and Cypriot politics until the late 20th century.
Throughout the Second World War, the Greek nation-state established its position as an Ally, helping Great Britain defeat the Axis forces by keeping Mussolini’s army at bay. Italian forces were unable to enter into Russia to aid the Germans, who were decidedly retreating by the summer of 1945. Having garnered the respect and gratitude of British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, the Greek and Cypriot populace remained hopeful that a union between the two nations was imminent. However, as the months of debates and treaties following the end of the war passed, there was no mention of Cyprus by Greek Prime Minister George Papandreou. Only in 1948 was a statement made by Greece’s Secretary of Defense that “the Cypriot issue can only be considered within the context of a wider, Greco-British ‘friendship’, as the fate of our small nation [Greece] is intimately tied with the fate of Great Britain.”
At this point, it should be clarified that while the majority of the Cypriot populace did maintain cultural, linguistic and religious ties with the Greek nation, there was a small Turkish-Cypriot minority that shared these respective characteristics with present day Turkey. These two communities lived peacefully on the island, and the majority political opinion at the time did call for unification with Greece. When it became clear that the unification would not be discussed by Greek leaders, Cyprus sent representatives to London to demand consideration of the matter. They returned to Cyprus with their request denied. In 1955, Cyprus saw the development of the Ethnic Organization of Cypriot Activists (EOKA) who worked secretly to gain the island’s independence from Great Britain. The desire for independence took a polemic turn in 1955 as well. In 1958, at a NATO conference taking place in Paris, representatives from England, Greece and Turkey drafted a Cypriot Constitution that they felt appropriately suited the interests of all three nations. Representatives from Cyprus were not included in the drafting of this constitution. The war continued with England until 1960, but the fighters from the Cypriot side were overwhelmingly Greek-Cypriot. Turkish-Cypriots, respecting the British-Turkish alliance, served alongside the British army, often working as internal spies or police officers throughout the war. Ultimately, on August 16th, 1960, the Cypriot government made an official declaration of independence from England, and political power in the new nation was transferred to the first President of the Cypriot Republic, Archbishop Makarios III.
Upon coming to power under the established constitution, Archbishop Makarios and his Greek-Cypriot following felt that that constitution granted the Turkish-Cypriot minority on the island benefits and rights in the Parliament that were disproportionate to the percentage of the population they represented. On November 30th, 1963, Archbishop Makarios presented Fazil Koutsiouk, political leader of the Turkish-Cypriot population at the time, with 13 amendments to the drafted constitution, including a clause that stated that government officials would be split into 70% Greek-Cypriots and 30% Turkish-Cypriots, to accurately represent the population distribution on the island. On December 1st, these amendments were enacted, and on December 31st, the Green Line was drawn to divide the nation. It is important to note that at this point that the Green Line had been drawn, there had been no polemic support or meaning to this division. Greek-Cypriots still lived in Northern Cyprus and Turkish Cypriots still lived in the south.
From 1963 until 1971, political tensions in Cyprus remained stable. Archbishop Makarios rose in popularity, and eventually came to espouse a political position of maintaining independence as a nation, finally deserting the reunification efforts with Greece. It is at this point, in late August of 1971, that General George Grivas, former head EOKA who spearheaded the efforts for independence from England, returned to the political stage with an aim to rekindle unification efforts. Under his leadership, a second secret organization, EOKA B’ was developed with that very goal. His return created political divisions among Greek-Cypriots, between those who supported reunification with Greece and those who supported Cyprus’ autonomy. Due to rumors that Grivas was receiving financial support for his illegal organization from the Greek government, tensions rose between the Greek government and the Cypriot government under Archbishop Makarios. On July 15th, 1974, Greek tanks and soldiers left their designated battlegrounds in Cyprus and headed to Nicosia, towards Makarios’ Presidential Palace. Makarios was forced to flee to Pafos, on the island’s southern shore. At this point, the Turkish government, seeing an opportunity to annex Cyprus again in the instability characterizing the relationship between the Greek and Greek-Cypriot governments, invaded Cyprus on July 20th, 1974. Turkish troops entered the island from Kerynia, under the pretense of protecting Turkish-Cypriot citizens from the Greek-induced political turmoil. After over a month of war between Greeks, Greek-Cypriots, Turks, and Turkish Cypriots, Turkish forces officially established rule over the northern 36% of the nation in late August of 1974. Turkish authorities then aimed to grant this portion of the island autonomy, naming it the Turkish Northern Republic of Cyprus (TNRC) and working towards its recognition by major world leaders. This recognition as an independent and legal nation state has been denied by all major international powers except Turkey, leaving inhabitants of the TNRC in an especially precarious position as global citizens. I plan to explore the lasting effects of the conflict on notions of Cypriot citizenship and on the Greco-Turkish relationship in Cypriot youth, by conducting and analyzing interviews with Cypriot youth of Greek and Turkish descent.
Data Collection and Interviews
For the duration of my stay in Cyprus, I lived where I focused the majority of my research and field work, the divided city of Nicosia. I stayed with a Greek family approximately four miles from both the checkpoint that divides the city into Greek-Cypriot and Turkish-Cypriot lands, and from the UN-established “buffer zone” that runs across the colloquially named “Green Line” that divides the island-nation. For my first three days in Cyprus, I was largely unaware of my close proximity to the divider. “Just walk down Ledras Street”, everyone would tell me, “and you will find it eventually”. Of course, such nonchalant descriptions were always swiftly accompanied with a “I would take you myself if it were not dark out. Maybe tomorrow, and maybe we can get Stellio or Michali to come with us as well."
I walked through the streets of downtown Nicosia with a group of girls, completely comfortable with the lateness of the hour since we were moving only on the Greek side of the checkpoint. I was consistently warned against travelling to the Turkish side of the checkpoint late at night or alone. The historical streets were lined with cobblestone or large granite tiles and were open only to pedestrians for about a mile between the main road and the Turkish checkpoint. Greek and Byzantine flags hung from balconies and churches, while forgotten Christmas lights floated above our heads. Graffiti criticizing the Cypriot government, the European government, the issue of illegal immigration, and of the role of the church in modern politics littered walls, billboards and shop doors. The entire scene was very reminiscent of a small city center in Greece, seemingly unperturbed by the checkpoint 0.25 miles away. The graffiti mentioned nothing of the conflict or of the checkpoint specifically, although allusions were made to its existence. A single message, repeated several times throughout the city, could be considered to reflect frustrations with the conditions on the island, one that declared in black, print, capital letters “NO NATIONS NO BORDERS”. Additionally, the youth expressing their political opinions on these public surfaces seemed to be focused on Greek Cyprus’ relationship with continental Europe and the rest of the world. Issues currently capturing the attention of most of Europe, such as the issue of illegal immigration, were reflected in messages that state, “Immigrants are our brothers” and “fear must go before liberty can come.” The “NO NATIONS NO BORDERS” slogan, which also resonates with Europe’s current immigration problem, was, in addition to other locations, painted onto the door of Cyprus’ Amnesty International branch, which was jammed tightly between a shoe store and a “Greek” souvlaki (Greek kebab) store. The white sign sat crooked upon a wooden doorway and below a window hidden by white rods. The yellow dingy wall encompassing the three entrances connected them to apartments on the floors above. The dim yellow light from the souvlaki shop illuminated the Amnesty International sign, which would have otherwise been indiscernible after sundown.
Leaving the Greek side of the city and venturing into the UN Buffer Zone thrust me into a slice of the city frozen in the past. Welcoming tourists and locals alike into the area of the Green Line was a sign, describing the city council’s plans to “reinvigorate” the areas around the Green Line, scheduled for completion in 2012. The sign’s metal post had been infiltrated with rust and overgrown shrubbery swallowed its base. On my left was the wall once surrounding “Old Nicosia”, erected nearly 1000 years ago by the city’s inhabitants for protection against invaders. Now, the wall is surrounded by the UN’s barbed wire and littered with outposts and guards maintaining peace in the territory. At the top of the wall and behind a 12-foot tall fence, fly the flags of Turkey and of the Turkish Northern Republic of Cyprus. Proceeding further down Ledras street, I encountered two large posters lining the two sides of the entrance to the “Green Line” part of Ledras that portrayed pictures of ‘martyrs’. These martyrs are young, Greek men who died at the hands of “Turkish mobs” in a 1996 commemoration of Cyprus’s existence as a divided city. The stories told by these two large posters each provide a different angle to what I found in my interviews to be pervading anger and feelings of betrayal by foreign powers. One speaks of Solomos Solomou, aged 26 at the time who was “shot by three Turkish snipers, while trying to climb a pole in order to remove a Turkish flag from its mast”. The second poster tells the story of Solomos’ cousin Tassos, who was participating in a cross-European bike ride from Berlin (Europe’s last divided city besides Nicosia), to Kyrenia (under Turkish occupation at the time). Despite political pressure to cancel the memorialized bike ride, some bikers chose to pursue this march. Among them was Tassos Isaac, who “along with other demonstrators crossed the UN buffer zone and entered the Turkish cease-fire line…a large group of Grey Wolves [members of a Turkish nationalist organization] ran towards him and attacked him violently. They continued for several minutes, unchallenged by the nearby UN peacekeepers [who] were not legally allowed into Turkish land.”
Along Ledras street are several old houses, most left to the mercy of the elements. Overgrown shrubbery shields what remains of stone pathways leading to wooden steps and porches. The ceramic tiles on of the roofs and the colored shutters are reminiscent of Greek architecture. The once white exterior of the homes has changed to a dreary yellow. It is along this same street that I encountered, much to my surprise, the town hall for the city of Kerynia. Located in what is now the TNRC, Kerynia was the entrance point for the Turkish army onto the island in 1974, and was consequently heavily bombarded throughout the war. The beautiful town hall, established on Ledras ‘temporarily’, until it was able to return to its original location, stood in stark contrast to the rundown buildings on its left and right. The white crest of the town of Kerynia stood proudly atop its doorway, while decorative columns, balconies and windows adorned the structure. The flags of Greece and of the European Union waved proudly on its left and right, framing the building’s entrance.
On a different day, now early in the morning so as to not ‘risk’ finding myself there after dark (I had been warned several times by my host family and made the decision to respect their concerns for my safety and return to Greek-Cyprus before dark every time I went), I travelled to the TNRC. I, as any other tourist or Greek-Cypriot citizen traversing the border encountered two checkpoints, one Greek and one Turkish. On my many trips crossing the checkpoints, I was consistently allowed to pass through the Greek checkpoint without so much as reaching into my purse for a form of identification. Other individuals crossing the border had a similar experience, although it should be noted at this point (as will be discussed below) that Turkish-Cypriots are not allowed to cross the border into the Greek half of the island. At the Turkish checkpoint upon entrance into the TNRC, I was stopped, asked to fill out customs forms, had my passport stamped, and was given a signed form to give to the officer on my way out of the nation-state. I was reminded that the laws of the agreement between the two nations forbade me from purchasing perishable goods from the TNRC and that any souvenir-type purchases I made would be subject to search at the discretion of both the Greek and Turkish checkpoint officers at the time of my return to Greek-Cyprus.
It was both physically located at and in conversation about this Turkish checkpoint that I noticed a profound shift in the way Greeks perceived the presence of the Turkish checkpoint on Nicosia’s main commercial avenue. I spent about one week in Cyprus before travelling to the TNRC, explaining my project, meeting Greek-Cypriot university students and gaining a better understanding of the city’s geography and history before truly delving into my research. For this one week, I was cautioned a total of 23 times by friends, acquaintances, taxi drivers, checkpoint guards, bank tellers and bus drivers against travelling to the TNRC at night, and an additional 47 times about travelling to the TNRC alone. When I finally did go, again, at around twelve noon, aiming to respect the concerns about my safety of my host family, I noticed a profound nationalistic mien that overtook Greek citizens in the form of language. As Cyprus was formerly a British colony, English still remains deeply entrenched in the primary and secondary education system on the island, meaning that most everyone speaks it with a great degree of proficiency. However, despite being fluent in English, Greeks and Greek-Cypriots (whom I identified by their passports) consistently refused to respond to Turkish guards in English. They instead insisted on responding to the guards’ English in Greek, eventually gaining permission to cross the checkpoint after a series of inefficient hand gestures and pointing to regulatory signs and posters.
The closest university to Nicosia on the Turkish side of the Green Line was approximately 2.5 miles away by taxi. As I was unable to come into contact with any professors there and had no student contacts, I made the decision to seek interviews and contacts with youth from walking around the city and speaking with individuals, rather than finding these contacts within the context of an institution like a university. However, upon crossing the border on of my many trips, I met Mehmet, a 25 year old Turk (not Turkish-Cypriot) who clearly identified himself as such despite having spent the past 21 years of his life in the Turkish Northern Republic of Cyprus. I conducted my interview with Mehmet in Greek, and much to my surprise, after having identified myself as a Greek-American, was offered into his shop with the utmost hospitality. He immediately brought me hot tea and Turkish cookies and proceeded to explain his interesting position as a Turkish youth born and raised in Turkish Cyprus. I should mention that his distinction between Turkish and Turkish-Cypriot identities was not elicited by my questions, but rather introduced me to the profound nuance of this distinction. “I have lived in that house [he points] for 21 years, but Turkey is my country”. The following interview has been translated from Greek into English:
Elisabeth: Can you tell me about what happened here in 1974?
Mehmet: Big fish eats the little fish. Just like it happens in nature. We people are no different.
Elisabeth: What do you mean? Who are the ‘fish’ in your analogy?
Mehmet: Well Cyprus is the little fish. Everyone else is the big fish—Turkey, Greece, England, the USA.
Elisabeth: [surprised to hear mention of the USA’s involvement for the first time since my arrival, I asked for clarification]
Mehmet: Oh yes, the USA did a lot of things wrong. They helped the Turks come in here in 1974. Everyone wanted the oil, but no one thought of the people that the oil really belonged to. The Turks came in and then everyone started getting scared because the Greeks and the Turks have never been friends. The Greek-Cypriots started killing the Turkish-Cypriots and destroyed their villages and killed their families. That’s not the story that you will read in history books, but the books have changed [I think here he meant to allude to a sort of ‘history is written by the victors’].
Elisabeth: The Cypriot people?
Mehmet: Yes exactly! The Cypriot people! When we were all one people.
Elisabeth: And what did the people want at that time?
Mehmet: Then? I have no idea I was not alive. But now? Now the people want peace, without borders. I just want to see what all these big fish are going to do when the oil runs out.
Elisabeth: Okay so tell me more about yourself. You speak excellent Greek. Did you go to school on the Greek side?
Mehmet: The Greek side? Oh no, no. I have never been over there. [Here I should mention that Mehmet’s store was less than a half mile away from the checkpoints from which I had just entered]. I am not allowed over there with my passport from the TNRC.
Elisabeth: Are you able to travel to countries in the European Union?
Mehmet: Of course I have travelled to Turkey many times.
As our conversation shifted from a political focus to a social one, I noticed very profound identifications meant to distinguish different ‘categories’ of people from one another. Many people passing by our conversation, whose interest was undoubtedly piqued by one of their own sitting and conversing about politics with a strange girl in Greek, stopped by to participate on numerous occasions. “Hey, I know a guy who married one of yours”, one man informed me. Others spoke to me about the Charlie Hebdo shootings that had recently taken place in Paris, and spoke to me about the inherently peaceful nature of Islam. After hours of lively conversation with many people, I turned to leave, only to be stopped by Mehmet who insisted on clarifying one final point with me: “I have a problem only with Greek-Cypriots”, he said, “not with Greece or Turkey or Cyprus, although I do wish I could cross the checkpoint. My problem is an issue of trust. I don’t know what they think over there. Do they hate us? Do they like us? Do they care? I don’t know their opinion and that is a problem.”
My next interview was with the 32-year-old owner of Rüstem Bookshop near Hotel Sarayi. I walked into the bookstore on a different day in the TNRC, looking for history books taught in the TNRC to elementary, middle and high school students. After speaking to three different people before finally coming into contact with someone who spoke English, I began by introducing myself and my project. In order to avoid any political biases affecting the nature of my research, I chose to exclude my identity as a Greek-American from the majority of my introductions, choosing instead to identify myself as “funded by an American university to do a project here”, and then proceeding to explain the details of my project and trying to find individuals to interview. However, when asked what had piqued my interest in Cyprus and in the Greek-Turkish conflict, I always responded that my family is of Greek descent and I have family members both from Cyprus and from Asia Minor. This bookkeeper had asked me the all-too-familiar question of “why here?” and received the response described above. He chuckled. As I had not entered the bookshop with an intention of conducting any interviews, I was unable to transcribe the majority of my conversation with this man and have thus chosen not to include a full interview with him pulled solely from my memory. However, when discussing the historical development of this conflict, culminating in 1974, the man expressed a poignant opinion about the fighting of 1974. He began by explaining the history of the Cypriot Constitution that was drafted and the thirteen points (amendments) that Greek Archbishop Makarios proposed to “increase the efficiency” of the government. The 13 points were implemented without votes from Turkish representatives. “They violated the Constitution, so we violated the borders. What did they think would happen?” the man asked me smirking.
As I hope I have been able to illustrate here, the issue of the Greek-Turkish conflict and its continual presence on the island still remains at the forefront of political and personal concerns for Turkish-Cypriot youth. Their passports and identification cards– issued by a country that lacks official recognition from every world power except Turkey – limit their occupational and travel opportunities. As Mehmet so poignantly described, Turkish-Cypriot youth are forbidden from crossing the checkpoint established within their own city. Greek-Cypriot youth by contrast, can traverse the border freely with the appropriate documentation. It is these physical restrictions, I have come to understand, that place the Greek-Turkish conflict and the issue of the island’s division at the political forefront for Turkish-Cypriot youths. Contrastingly, the alleviation of this particular boundary has removed a tangible reminder of this conflict from the minds of Greek-Cypriot youths, allowing their political focus to shift to more contemporary issues and their social prejudices to remain stuck in the hateful and largely uninformed discourse of the 20th century.
I had the unique opportunity of interacting with Greek soldiers stationed in Cyprus who worked as part of Greek-Cypriot agreement for protection against the possible threat of another Turkish invasion. I sat around a small round table with four of these Greek soldiers and three young Greek women who had left Greece and come to Cyprus in order to study law at the University of Nicosia. All of them lived in Cyprus for a period of less than six months, and as they enjoyed their coffees they reminisced about the vibrant Greek cities they left behind. Under the pretense of describing to me why there is “no place like Greece”, they mentioned the Turkish presence on the island. Some profanities were used to describe the Turks as I had expected given the historical animosities between the two cultural groups. However, I was surprised to find that these historical animosities were just that—founded almost exclusively in the Greek-Turkish history that Greek and Greek-Cypriot children are taught in elementary and middle school. They discussed the three-hundred years during which the Greeks were enslaved by the Turks, mentioned the cultural exchange that inevitably came about from this relationality, and then quickly drifted from these historical facts to a series of unfounded claims. “How can you expect these savages to have any respect for our lands and for our people—because Greece and Cyprus are sister nations—when they don’t even have respect for their own citizens?” Dimitri, a 19-year-old soldier from Patras, Greece asked me earnestly. I managed to mumble a quick “what do you mean?” before he proceeded to explain his point. “Well just take a look at Shariah law”, he said “and how they oppress their women. A man who can’t even respect the rights of his mother as a functioning member of society of course has no problem coming into a foreign and raping our mothers and our sisters. All those tribunals ‘investigating’ should take a break from all the history and look at pure common sense.” “Just look at what they did in Paris” (referring to the Charlie Hebdo attacks), Petros, another soldier from Crete, chimed in. And just like that, as quickly as it had begun, the ephemeral conversation about Greek-Turkish relations within Cyprus shifted to a wider, and perhaps more relevant to these young men, conversation about the positions of Turkey and Greece within a wider European framework: should Turkey be granted entrance into the European Union and Eurozone? Should they have to change the religious influences present in their government before they do so?
While these young men expressed an interest, albeit short-lived, in the Turkish presence within the borders of their “‘sister-nation,”’ I found their somewhat misinformed knowledge of Turkish law and customs refreshing within a greater context of Greek-Cypriot indifference towards their Turkish-Cypriot neighbors. Despite my efforts, I was unable to gain insight on the perspectives of Greek-Cypriot youth towards their Turkish-Cypriot counterparts, apart from general warnings to stay away from the checkpoints and the TNRC after dark and a suggestion to travel there with a male escort when I absolutely needed to do so.
One day in particular, I had planned on visiting one of the three mosques on the Greek side of the checkpoint in Nicosia. I was a in a taxi with a 27-year-old driver who had spent the better part of the morning driving me around to various locations. At around 1:00 PM that day I asked him to take me to the nearest mosque for a quick stop before I returned to my host family for lunch. The man that I had spent the majority of the morning laughing with and speaking about my project suddenly stared at me blankly. “Um”, he said nervously, “I could radio in to ask where one of those is, but I really don’t know off the top of my head.” I was shocked. Within the area of approximately 36 square miles that makes up the city of Nicosia there are three mosques, and this man, whose job as a taxi driver requires an excellent knowledge of the city, could not tell me the location even of one. We finally found it (we were less than 2 miles away from the nearest mosque) by asking passing pedestrians and drivers for directions. Of the four that we asked, three could not tell us, and one gave us directions but cautioned me that “the mosque doesn’t work year round—it only works during their holidays…Ramadan and the other one…I can’t remember what it’s called right now, but it will probably be closed now.” The mosque was not closed when I went inside, as they are often open consistently for anyone who wishes to worship. But this episode, as well as my cab’s driver offer to “wait for me in case I need anything,” highlights the persistent ignorance and fear that grips the Greek-Cypriot populace in response to its Turkish-Cypriot neighbor.
Conclusions
The current stance of Greek-Cypriot and Turkish-Cypriot youth depends completely upon the current realities members of each population face. While youths of Greek and Turkish descent both uphold an understanding and an opinion of the events of 1974, whether from school history textbooks or stories told by their parents and grandparents, the current relationship with the checkpoint in Nicosia and with the existing tension varies greatly between the two groups. Turkish-Cypriot youths, limited in their occupational and travel options due to the political reality that they live in a nation not recognized by major world powers, remain preoccupied with the unification of the two sides into one nation. Greek-Cypriot youths, by contrast, have little connection to the checkpoint other than its existence as a minor nuance in their travels to the TNRC. Greek-Cypriot youths have no difficulty exploring educational and occupational opportunities in Britain and continental Europe and have thus turned their focus away from the Greek-Turkish conflict onto more contemporarily pressing issues. Specifically, I noticed a great preoccupation with the political and economic turmoil taking place in Europe, along with a general desire for Europeanization on the part of Greek-Cypriot youths. The majority of conversation that included mention of Turkey or the TNRC amongst Greek-Cypriot youths revolved around the Charlie Hebdo attacks that took place while I was in Cyprus. Ultimately, these attacks instigated hateful discourse around Turks, Turkish-Cypriots, and Islam that were further entrenched with a series of protests in downtown Nicosia in solidarity with those mourning the Charlie Hebdo killings.
Further Reading
Because of the short length of this paper and so as to not overwhelm readers with a large quantity of interviews and perspectives on the current form this conflict has taken, I have chosen to exclude information and analysis from interviews with older Greek- and Turkish-Cypriots who remember or fought in the war of 1974. I have attached, for anyone who is interested, transcriptions (and translations) of two interviews of individuals who have a clear memory of July 20th, 1974, in hopes that their perspectives and memories will offer an additional dimension to this complex socio-political issue.
Appendix
A. Interview #1: Day 1, arrival at Larnaca Airport
I spoke little with the taxi driver transporting me from the airport in Larnaca to where I would be staying in Nicosia, until about 30 minutes into the drive when we came upon the Turkish flag on the side of the mountain. This is visible from the road, and my driver immediately dove into conversation about this without any further prompt from me, and without knowing that I was there doing research on the subject of Greek-Turkish relations in Cyprus.
Driver: That is the Turkish flag, "κοριτσι μου" (showing some kind of comfort or familiarity with me), so the bastards can remind of us every day of what happened.
Elisabeth: Did you live in Cyprus when the invasion happened? (I was quickly aware of the fact that I had used the word invasion, potentially swaying him towards my version of the history, or what I thought I would be finding going in.)
D: Yes, I was a soldier. Why do you ask?
E: Well, I am an American student from JHU and have come to Cyprus to research and learn about the effect that the… (I was at a loss for another word) well, the invasion of sorts--
D: Not of sorts, or so to speak. It was an invasion.
E: Yes, sorry. Well then I am studying the effects that the invasion has on Cypriot youth today.
D: Oh well I can tell you right now that there is no effect. Just there like is no solution to this problem because they did everything very systematically.
E: Who is they?
D: The damn Turks who came and "sat on our necks." Anyway, everything was very systematic if you think about it. In 1974 they came in, and in 1984 they created their own nation. They facilitated the population exchange to create a dichotomy where yes, politically and technically they are not an independent nation, but in practice they are. And no one really worried about it or cared then, because everyone wanted to see his mother or his father that lived in the occupied territories. And now there is no reaction. These young people don't know what it's like to be under military rule (κατοχη) even though they talk about it. The EU doesn't even talk about the Cypriot conflict (Κυπριακο) anymore, they just treat the issue like two normal countries that have their disagreements. Everyone got comfortable. What young person would leave the city now to go live in their grandfather's village? The Turks wanted to take all of Cyprus. The British wanted our oil. We didn’t sign their agreements then to give it to them, so they found another way to take it. Northern Cyprus… we have to call it "Northern Cyprus" now. It has its own name.
B. Interview #2: Woman in Greek Orthodox Church, focus on religion in the context of this conflict
I began by explaining my project and asking a general question about how she felt that the Greek Orthodox Church had been affected by this conflict, and by the changes in the living situations on the island.
N: There are churches in the occupied lands that have been left without care for over 40 years. The churches have become barns, just look at St. Panteleimonas, or at Agios Mamas. Did you know that there are churches and παρεκκλησια (chapels) there that have been there since the 1600s? And they came to ruin them in just 40 years.
E: Have the mosques on this side of the Green also been destroyed?
N: Well the agreement was that for every mosque we restored they would restore one church. Just go to some mosques here to see who has upheld their side of their agreement. But obviously, you can't expect a lot from these barbaric people. Just look at what they did in Paris (reference to Charles Hebdo).
E: But the bombings were done by Muslims on a religious basis, not specifically Turkish Cypriots.
N: They are all the same κοριτσι μου, they hid all the stolen icons in walls so no one could find them.
E: What stolen icons?
N: All of them, they stole a lot of icons at that time because they had value.
E: What part of Cyprus are you originally from?
N: I am from here, but I have a vacation house in Kerynia (notice the use of “have” instead of “had”)
E: The invasion happened over the summer--were you in Kerynia at the time?
N: No I was here working. I worked as a nurse, there was so much work and so many patients that I slept at the hospital for 3 straight weeks. I saw a lot of dead people, injured people. We helped our men and the Turks. I love seeing people later on that I have saved, even if they are Turkish.
E: Have you been back to Kerynia to see your beach house since 1974?
N: Of course not. I don't want to go to see my house that will have Turks inside of it. They are Kurds. Uneducated. She took a very stern look: I have not gone to the occupied lands, and I do not want to.
E: Do you see effects of the Greek-Turkish conflict still existing today?
N: I can give you an example: there is an English school here, it is private so everyone pays. Two years ago they accepted 100 Turkish-Cypriot students, and all of our students were forced to remove any crosses they were wearing. How are can we have a reconciliation when things like this are happening?
E: Well thank you so much for speaking with me about this.
N: What are your plans for the rest of the day? (this interview was conducted after an Esperino service, i.e. at about 7:00PM)
E: Well actually I was planning on going to a mosque to speak to some people there.
N: Oh well you should go, but not alone, and not now.
E: Why not?
N: What if they do something for you? Never go alone. Let me tell you something, they are lying when they say that Cyprus is theirs.
Bibliography
"History of GreeceThe Ottoman Period." History of Greece: The Ottoman or Turkish Period. Web. 20 April 2015. http://www.ahistoryofgreece.com/turkish.htm
Pantelidou, Aggeliki, Konstantina Hatzikosti, and Haralambia Katsonis. History of Cyprus: Middle Ages-New Age (1192-1974). 5th ed. Nicosia: Programs Development Agency, 2002. 220-297. Print.
Schiff, Stacy. Cleopatra: A Life. New York: Little, Brown, 2010. Print.