In 1567, the Venetians built fortified walls around Nicosia. The walls form a circle, punctuated by 11 bastions which make the city look like a sort of super-stylized medieval star. Fast forward four centuries, and Cyprus has passed from Ottoman to British rule and onward to independence in 1960. “Intercommunal violence” broke out in 1963, prompting the arrival of the first UN Peacekeepers in March 1964. Before they could get there, the British commander in Cyprus drew a “green line” across Nicosia to keep Turkish Cypriots and Greek Cypriots apart. In 1974, the so-called “Cyprus problem” became truly intractable when the Turks intervened after a Greek-sponsored coup against Archbishop Makarios, who was the President; the green line (which is actually a UN-controlled buffer zone) now runs across Cyprus, with Nicosia smack in the middle. The UN Peacekeepers never left. Cyprus became a member of the European Union in 2004.
When we first arrived in Nicosia, we took a tour of the Green Line within the walled city. If we hadn’t yet realized what a truly bizarre world we now found ourselves in, the Green Line Tour would have showed us. It starts at a bullet-ridden and extensively shelled primary school and then continues past a decaying medieval church; through its collapsed wall you can just make out three crests belonging to the Knights Templar. At its narrowest, the buffer zone is barely wide enough for a car to pass through, and green line lore includes a tale of Turkish and Greek Cypriot soldiers duking it out on balconies with knives attached to broomsticks in the middle of the night. Small sign posts mark former Turkish Forces and National Guard positions, not to mention several still-manned posts along the way. At one point, the tour walks down a street like any other in Nicosia– but frozen in a single moment in 1974, when the area was abandoned as Turkish Forces approached.
The UN Peacekeepers have gathered up some of the “artifacts” left-behind. Newspapers and advertisements from 1974 are still scattered around some of the buildings:
The oddest space in the buffer zone is a collection of vintage Toyotas, fresh off the boat in 1974, driven less than 50 miles, and parked at the dealer still abandoned. The UN Peacekeepers will encourage visitors to open a door and inhale– still smells like new 41 years later!
Up until 2003, non-diplomats could not cross the buffer zone to visit the other side of the city (or indeed, any other city on the other side). During a push toward a political settlement, the checkpoints were opened. A referendum to reunite the island failed in 2004, but the checkpoints remained open. We live in the south but cross north frequently for work– and to see Star Wars where it was released five days earlier than in the south. We use the same license plates we use in the south, but we have to carry an additional separate insurance policy valid only for the north. We cross with our Embassy badges instead of our passports. And we are fortunate because diplomats only are able to drive across a centrally located checkpoint at Ledra Palace, which is a pedestrian-only crossing for everyone else (they can drive across too, but have to go a bit further out of their way.) Crossing can be a bit surreal, firstly because we (or anyone else but Turkey) don’t recognize the “Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus” as a real country. In a matter of minutes, you can move from Greek names and signs to Turkish names and signs. However, you’ll need to buy two maps because maps sold in the south look like this: (for those who can’t read tiny writing, the north half of the city is blank and the map just says “Area inaccessible due to Turkish occupation”). Some maps in the north hold a similar disclaimer along the lines of “Area controlled by the illegitimate Republic of Cyprus”– the politics are complicated.
