The barricades that cut across LedraStreet, in the heart of Cyprus's capital city of Nicosia, what have stayed in place for nearly half a century to symbolize the ethnic division of the island, were finally removed Thursday morning,as an official gesture by Greek and Turkish Cypriot officials. The event revives hopes of a solution to the so-calledCyprus problem.
Ledra Street has beendivided since 1964, when an outbreak of intercommunal fighting ledBritish soldiers to lay barbed wire to cut off the Greek and TurkishCypriot communities.The Ledra Street crossing (dubbed as Lokmaci Kapisi by Turkish Cypriots) is now the sixth point at which people can cross between the south and north, though ID cards or passports will still be required.
In 1974, the island itself was divided whenTurkish forces invaded in response to a short-lived coup engineered by the military junta then ruling Greece, who wanted to unify Cyprus with the mainland. Since then, numerous attempts to find a solution to the division have failed, but hopes are high on the island that a peaceful resolution can now be found.
In 2003, the Turkish Cypriotsrelaxed boundary restrictions, allowing people on both sides of thedivide to visit homes they had abandoned decades earlier. The election in February of Christofias, who favours dialogue, has raised hopes of talks that stalled when Greek Cypriots voted against a UN reunification plan in a referendum in 2004.
Rana Zincir, a Turkish Cypriot and peace activist shares her experiences of the opening of a new passage to reconciliation with bianet viewers.
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This morning, the sun shining, the spring air cool and crisp, we joined the crowds at the Lokmaci checkpoint at precisely 9 o’clock, the time that had been announced for the opening. About 150 people had gathered to watch this historic moment in and for the heart of Nicosia. It had been an incredibly difficult and distracting few weeks for me, where sitting still was literally an exercise in self-control. The mood even infected my sleep: the day after the historic Talat-Christofias meeting, which launched a new era for our island, I childishly dreamed that the opening of 27 new checkpoints was being declared!
I tried to push my way to the front; the joy and hope and excitement in the air was tangible. Nobody knew what to expect, if there would be speeches or an announcement or some kind of ceremony, besides, we couldn’t even see much of anything, with the line of police and then the media blocking our view of what lay beyond.
Then from the back of the crowd I heard whistles and chanting, “Barış! Şimdi! (Peace! Now!)” and a group of people from the CTP Gençlik Kolları (Republican Turkish Party Youth Branch) all dressed in white walking in formation made their way to the front. Banners were raised, red carnations and newsletters were passed out, and then the singing began. First “Dillirga,” a Turkish Cypriot folk song which was a common tune during the meetings of the 2003, with the whole crowd clapping and singing along, and then the CTP anthem, “Çav Bella (Ciao Bella [Bye Bye Bella])”, along with some others. Then chanting for peace again “Kıbrıs’ta Barış, Engellenemez! (Peace cannot be prevented in Cyprus)”
I wondered if there were crowds on the other side, if they could hear us, if they were also singing and clapping. One of the press photographers standing on a nearby roof shouted down, “Everybody look here! Show me your flowers!” From the crowd, a young man shouted back “I can’t give you my flower, I’m saving it for Mariana!” to which we all laughed. And we waited…
There were a bunch of balloons, about 50 meters away, you could barely make them out when you stood on your toes. All of a sudden, we saw the colorful balloons fly up past the ruined buildings into the blue sky. We didn’t know if this meant that the official opening had taken place, for the line of police and media remained unchanged, and we still waited… I thought to myself, “It would have probably been better to watch it from TV, then at least I would know what’s really going on.” A plate of lokma balanced on an Absolut tray from one of the nearby restaurants made its way to the front, across the police and disappeared into the middle somewhere… Again, more jokes, “Lokma tastes great with vodka!” It really was a giddy atmosphere…
Then a crowd of cameras made their way from beyond the barrier to our corner, and I felt some shoving and movement, and before knowing it I realized that someone was coming through. I tried to crane my neck past the shoulders blocking my view, and then rather abruptly found an open space in front of me, with a teary-eyed George Vassilou looking straight at me! I gasped, and stepped forward, “Welcome Mr. Vassilou,” I said, giving him the flower in my hand, and then we hugged. We were both in shock and didn’t realize what had just taken place. A few minutes later, the Mayor Eleni Mavrou followed, along with former Mayor Lellos Demetriades and other Greek Cypriot officials. There was lots of clapping and cheering as we welcomed them. From the distance, a davul and zurna started playing.
But we still waited… Lots of questions were going through my head, ‘Were we going to be able to cross? Was the checkpoint open? What happens next?’ It was totally confusing, then I realized that the policeman in front of me has quietly started letting people go through, five at a time. This coincided with many other people having the same realization as well, so suddenly there was a huge push to the corner. I grabbed my husband’s hand, looked at Police Officer Hasan Baran, “We’re together, don’t let us get separated,” I pleaded. He nodded. Another group of five pushed their way in. The man in front of me became upset and started shouting “you guys can’t stop peace!”
The next batch of five included us, and we made our way with our ID cards to the booths, where reporters were throwing questions at us. I noticed the booths on the left were crowded with lines of Greek Cypriots, but from the chaos and commotion couldn’t even wave to the one or two friends I saw in the line.
The paper was handed back to me, with the new stamp of “Lokmaci Kapisi”. I grinned. We did it! We made our way forward, past the media, the chaos behind us, and looked at the long line from the south, and saw Neşe Yaşın, with a bunch of red carnations in her hand. “Neşe, we did it!” I said, we hugged and kissed. It was only two days before we were both at a café when the announcement was made that the crossing would open on Thursday. “I’ll be coming from the South,” she had said, “and we’ll meet in the middle.”
I forged ahead, trying my best to take notice of what everything looked and felt like. The ground, newly and rapidly asphalted, was uneven, the brandas that were erected on either side to cover the site of shelled buildings created a feeling of being in a narrow cavern, then suddenly we found ourselves face to face with the Greek Cypriot police. I showed my ID card, and was pointed towards a booth. And there was the same woman who took my ID card at the Ledra Palace checkpoint. At one point, when I would cross almost every other day, it became so routine that we would barely look at each other when I gave her my card. “So you’re here from now on,” I asked. “Yes!” “Good, so I’ll see you soon!”
Taking my card back and walking ahead, it grew more and more quiet. “Weren’t there any crowds, where’s the music and clapping?” I wondered. Then I found myself just strolling in Ledra Street, the same way as before. It was… disappointing, an anti-climax. I wanted to rush and hug people, but it was just a regular work-day morning for most.
The only acknowledgement came from a foreign street musician standing on one corner with an electronic keyboard, gently singing Bob Dylan:
how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.
I got my soy milk latte from Starbucks and realizing it would take forever to cross back through Lokmaci, walked through the quiet streets of south Nicosia to cross back through Ledra Palace.
My home is the third building after the Ledra Palace checkpoint, so it was easy enough for me to stop by, grab my bicycle and quickly make my way back to Lokmaci. I wondered if it was still as jubilant as before, or had it become quiet too.
How will Nicosia be affected by the new checkpoint; can our beautiful city be a shared space for all Cypriots? Or, will life go on as “normal”? Can we find it in our hearts to take care of this city, to take responsibility for this city, whose buildings and inhabitants have long been neglected?
A group of city planners, architects, and engineers from the Nicosia Master Plan of the two Municipalities were celebrating. I congratulated them, knowing how long they had been working for this… Slowly I found my friends, ran into many colleagues, we gathered at Buyuk Han for coffee, enjoying the moment… (RZ/EK)