The government of the Republic of Cyprus in the south, controlled by Greek-Cypriots, initially attempted to put a damper on travel, saying it would legitimize the occupation of the northern part of the island. But the trickle quickly turned into a flood. What is now taking place is a massive rapprochement, one-on-one, by ordinary people.

Cyprus has been divided since 1974 when Turkish troops invaded this eastern Mediterranean island and occupied the northern 37 percent.The invasion took place on the heels of a military coup against the government of Archbishop Makarios, a bourgeois-nationalist regime which was seen by Washington and London, the country’s former colonial master, as a thorn in the side of imperialism. The coup was carried out by Athens—itself under a military regime at the time, which took power in 1967 through a U.S.-backed coup. Annexation of Cyprus has been a historic goal of many in the ruling class in Greece.

At the time, Washington looked favorably on the coup against Makarios, as well as the invasion. British forces on the island stood by. These events took place as the Makarios government was beginning to take a stance independent of NATO, after a wave of radicalization among working people. In the aftermath of the invasion, 200,000 Greek-Cypriots and 30,000 Turkish-Cypriots became refugees, and the two communities were separated by the Green Line through massive population moves that created for the first time in the country’s history a partition along national lines. The demarcation line runs through the capital Nicosia—causing all north-south streets to dead end in boarded up buildings, sandbags, barbed wire, and guard posts.

Today it is estimated that 85 percent of the population is Greek-Cypriot and 12 percent Turkish-Cypriot.  
 
An emotional welcome
“The Greek-Cypriots in whose house we have been living came to see it,” says Turkish-Cypriot journalist Faize Ozdemirciler. “My father took out the keys and gave it to them. ‘This house is yours’, he said, ‘ours is in [the southern town of ] Larnaca.’”

When Mohammed fled his home in Larnaca, he left his possessions with his friend Vassilis for safekeeping. Mohammed died, but his son is now able to travel to the south so Vassilis can give him his father’s belongings and an emotional welcome. Such stories fill the newspapers and television screens every day.

Many Turkish-Cypriot refugees were kicked out of their homes in the 1960s. The pogroms against them were organized by Greek-Cypriot paramilitary organizations from 1963-64 under the banner of uniting the island with Greece, with the collusion of Athens and of the Makarios government. Such actions helped Ankara justify military aggression and the island’s division along ethnic lines.

To go into the north now, we show our passports and get a visa at the Ledra Palace checkpoint of the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus—the state set up by the occupying Turkish army and recognized solely by Ankara. Turkish-Cypriots entering the south must show Cypriot ID cards.

We cross into the north in the company of Petros Evdokas, a 45-year-old Nicosia native, who has been unable to visit the north side of the city since he was 16. Unfamiliar with the city, 24-year-old Huseyin Gurcinar, our second guide, born and raised in a different town in the north, is glad Evdokas can guide us around. Evdokas and Gurcinar, who have both participated in rapprochement efforts in their respective communities, are now able to meet face-to-face and figure out—like thousands of others, especially youth—what brought the island to division and how to achieve one sovereign country.

On the Turkish side of the checkpoint, buildings are much more run down, a result of economic isolation and depression. Average income in the north is one-seventh of the south. Unemployment is double.

When you enter the old walled town of Nicosia from the northern gate, you feel you have entered another world. Many settlers and immigrants—among the most oppressed in Turkey— some in the characteristic dress of Anatolian peasants, have occupied abandoned buildings unrepaired since the 1974 war and lacking modern facilities. This is in contrast to the south side, where many old neighborhoods have been renovated to serve the tourist trade.

In the years of isolation and embargo since the invasion, the economy of the north has been tied to that of Turkey, long in the stranglehold of runaway inflation and economic depression. Farmers, especially hard hit, can only sell their products in the Turkish market. The currency is the Turkish lira (1 Cypriot pound = 2.7 million Turkish lira). The telephone code, postal code, and car license plates are that of southern Turkey.

This devastation has reinforced the oppression of Turkish-Cypriot workers and farmers that existed even before the island’s independence from Britain in 1960. Greek-Cypriot landowners and merchants enjoyed a privileged status under the colonial setup, doubly exploiting Turkish-Cypriots as cheap labor.  
 
Seeking out joint activity
With the ability to travel, working people are seeking out joint activity. This year the May Day celebrations held by the trade unions were combined. Joint actions took place against the British bases during the war against Iraq. Music and folk-dance groups are appearing together. But nothing is as massive as this constant visiting back and forth. A struggle to open up space has only just begun.

The Turkish-Cypriot government of Rauf Denktash has said it will allow Greek-Cypriots to stay in the north up to three nights, according to Evdokas. The government of the Republic of Cyprus, however, has declared that those staying in confiscated property may be prosecuted. Most of the hotels in the occupied areas are either former Greek-Cypriot property or built on it, he explains, effectively limiting visits.

Revelations in the media and high-profile court cases have spread in the south concerning mishandling of Turkish-Cypriot property and demands for homes and land to be restored to their rightful owners.

Evdokas explains that if a family of displaced Turkish-Cypriots were to try to return home to the south today “they would not be able to move in, even if they found their house still standing.” This is the result of restrictions imposed by the Greek-Cypriot government in the south, which claims to be the legitimate representative of all Cypriots. The government “should have already taken every step possible to welcome and to encourage the permanent return home of our displaced Turkish-Cypriot neighbors and coworkers,” Evdokas says.

In an article for the Greek-Cypriot daily Politis, Sener Levent, editor of Afrika newspaper in the north, urges Turkish-Cypriots to exercise their rights as citizens of the Republic of Cyprus. “If an unemployed Turkish-Cypriot goes to the Cyprus Republic’s authorities…and demands unemployment benefits, with what legal argument can his claim be rejected?” he asks. The response of the Labour Ministry in the south was that Turkish-Cypriots were not eligible because they do not pay taxes to the Republic of Cyprus.

In the first such move since 1960, a group of Turkish-Cypriot wheat growers from Louroudjina visited the Agriculture Ministry in June to ask the Grain Commission to buy their produce. Government officials are stalling on the request, citing European Union regulations.

Not everyone in the south favors this open give and take. “I will never go as long as I have to show my passport to visit my own country,” says one Greek-Cypriot shopkeeper in Nicosia. “People seem to think that all Turks are wonderful and the problem is solved because they go there and they are well received.”

Continuing our walk in north Nicosia, we approach a small café. An old man gets up to greet us with “Kopiaste!” meaning in Greek a combination of “welcome” and “have a seat.” We heard this often. Many seek us out when they hear us, struggling to remember their Greek from before the 1974 separation. “We don’t have any differences,” the old man says. “The higher-ups should sign whatever it is and we should live together again.”  
 
UN plan continues divisions
He is referring to the various plans that are on the negotiating table, sponsored by the UN and the EU, whose stated aim is to “reunify” the island before the Republic of Cyprus formally joins the EU in May 2004. Most people we meet in the north say that the plan proposed by UN Secretary General Kofi Annan last November is the last chance to become one country. This is the position of the union federation Dev-Is and of all the opposition parties in the north.

The Annan plan would set up a complex federal system of government, including separation along ethnic lines at every level. It strictly limits the number of refugees allowed to return and further institutionalizes the role of British and Greek imperialism, as well as Turkish capitalist interests, as the presence of their respective armies shows. Athens, London and Ankara would remain constitutional “guarantor powers,” as they have been since 1960. The position of the EU “is very clear,” states the head of the European Commission Delegation to Cyprus, Adrian Van der Meer. “There can be only one way forward, and that is the Annan plan because it tackles all the comprehensive elements.” Athens in particular has been pushing for adoption of this plan, with a view to better use the island as an export platform for the Middle East.

On July 14, the Cypriot parliament in the south voted unanimously to ratify the treaty of accession into the EU, amidst renewed calls for the adoption of the Annan plan. House Chairman Demetris Christofias of the Communist Party of Cyprus (AKEL), hailed the vote as “historic.” AKEL is the largest parliamentary party, which helped elect the current President of Cyprus Tassos Papadopoulos, a representative of the Greek-Cypriot bourgeoisie.

AKEL is a mass party that has built its reputation in recent years as pushing for rapprochement between the two communities. It backs entry into the EU and the Annan plan, a shift from earlier positions. The party’s policies on the national question have taken many zigzags, including support for unification with Greece in the 1940s and 50s.

The Denktash regime denounced the vote in the Cypriot parliament in the south. The purpose, he stated, “is to take over the whole island and make the Turkish-Cypriots a minority.” Denktash faces staunch opposition for not signing on to the Annan plan. Discontent is even emerging among the tens of thousands of settlers from Turkey in the north, generally considered as Denktash’s base. Groups of settlers are threatening to boycott the upcoming commemorations of the Turkish invasion.

As working people take advantage of the opportunity to cross the 29-year-old barricades, they are giving lie to the idea that the two communities are gripped by “age-old hatreds” and need to be kept apart.

A small minority, like Ozdemirciler, disagree that the UN plan is the last chance for unification. “The Annan plan legitimizes the status quo,” she says. “It is partition. I want one country with all the armies out: Turkish, British and Greek.”  
 
 
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