Brexit, Trentry, and Cyprus (Part 1: Nicosia)

        So many things have happened recently, it’s hard to keep your compass steady. The Brexit vote. Relations between Turkey and Israel re-established, relations with Russia reset. The Istanbul airport blasts, followed by murderous attacks in Dhaka, Baghdad, and Saudi Arabia. And now it’s the Ramazan Bayramı, the holiday at the end of Ramadan.  Crowds have headed for the seashore, leaving Ankara calm and quiet.

        The day after the British voted, I was in a taxi heading into the city for a medical check-up.  The radio was on top volume, with news about the vote.

        “The English are going to leave the EU, can you believe it?” shouted the heavy-set driver. I had trouble understanding him – he wasn’t articulating clearly like a language teacher, but I got the gist. I wondered what he was thinking. Turkey has been trying to enter the EU for decades, continually blocked, and here was a major country in the EU voting to get out.

        “We should never join the EU,” he continued. “I’ve been to Switzerland and I’ve been to Dortmund.  Six times!  At 7 pm the place shuts down. People there, their life is work. Turks coming from Germany are astonished to see Kızılay alive in the evening! Besides, the climate is rainy and cloudy. Here we have sun!”

        I agreed.  Turkey doesn’t need to enter the EU.  On the other hand, EU-type reforms would be welcome, especially for human rights.  Now the conversation risked getting complicated as well as delicate, depending on the political leanings of the driver, and I didn’t think my vocabulary and syntax would rise to the occasion (and I didn’t want to bellow out my answers), so I let it pass.  In any case, I was soon at my stop.

        I had been thinking about the futility of “Trentry” (= Turkish entry into the EU) a few weeks before, during a trip to Cyprus. The Republic of Cyprus has been a major opponent of Trentry, even blocking the opening of “chapters” that would lead to EU-style reforms. In 1974, Turkey invaded Cyprus in order to protect Turkish Cypriots following a pro-Enosis (union with Greece) coup d’etat engineered by the dictatorship then ruling Greece.  Ever since, attempts to reunify the island have failed, and the island remains divided between the Turkish north (the self-proclaimed Turkish Republic of North Cyprus) and the Greek south (the Republic of Cyprus).  Greek Cypriots, resenting the Turkish presence (military and other), claim the north of their country is illegally occupied. The resentment is mutual: Turkey does not recognize the Republic of Cyprus as the legitimate government of all Cypriots.  Despite this impasse, the EU allowed the Republic of Cyprus to join in 2004.  A foolish decision: incentives for compromise were reduced, and the north remains internationally marginalized (even though Turkish Cypriots voted 65% in favor of the 2004 Annan Plan for reunification). 

Despite the “de iure” differences, in daily life relations between the two sectors have softened somewhat.  Marie-Henriette and I were traveling to south Cyprus to visit archaeological sites and museums.  I had been once before, in 1981, M-H never.  For Ankariots, getting to Cyprus is easy: a 50-minute plane ride to the Ercan Airport on the Turkish side of the island.  For almost 30 years, that was it.  Crossing to the Greek side, the south, was impossible.  Indeed, arriving in the north was considered illegal entry onto the island.  You would have to travel from Ankara to Istanbul to Athens to Larnaca, to arrive legally in the south. Today, crossing in Nicosia is accepted, and easy – at least if you are Cypriot (Turkish or Greek) or have a passport other than Turkish (Turkish passport holders must obtain a visa at the Cypriot Embassy in Athens, a cumbersome process).

        The central Cypriot plain in late May looked bone-dry, a contrast with Ankara, green after spring rainfall. It was sunny, dry,  and hot, but nothing in comparison with temperatures in August, I would be told.  Because the airport bus would not be leaving for Lefkoşe (Nicosia) for another hour, information extracted with the greatest difficulty from an utterly bored young woman working for the bus company, we took a taxi to the center of the city: 30 minutes, 60 TL. Then a short distance by foot on a pedestrian-only street, first to the Turkish Cypriot crossing point, then on to the Greek Cypriot check point, and there we were, in the European Union, on Ledra Street in south Nicosia. 

 Ledra Street

We walked to our hotel, not far away.  I took a nap. After a coffee, we set out to locate the Cyprus Museum, our top destination. Although the museum had closed for the day, we intended to visit first thing in the morning.  It was close by, but not easy to find. The old city of Nicosia, south and north, is still enclosed in fortifications built by the Venetians in 1567. They form a star-shaped circle, studded with 11 bastions.   

I remember flying over the city in the summer of 1969, en route from Beirut to Istanbul, amazed at the sight of these fortifications.  However imposing they may appear, they proved ineffective when put to the test.  The Ottomans invaded the island in 1570, and captured Nicosia after a 40-day siege. 

 Dogs and dog lovers by the city walls

 

We walked outside the walls, and after a wrong turn or two we eventually found the museum. On our return to the hotel, we walked by a Roman Catholic church (of 1902; not an architectural masterpiece) and the Maronite Cathedral, next to a Lebanese coffee house with older men playing cards.

        We then embarked on a touristic walk across the old city, a route found in a guidebook. Nicosia within the Venetian walls is a curious mix of attractively restored older buildings, generic modern, and derelict. 

House of the Dragoman Hadjigeorgakis Kornesios

(early 19th century)

 

The Leventis Municipal Museum, to take one example, occupies a restored late 19th-century mansion. This museum presents the history of Nicosia from earliest times to the present, with outstanding displays. There is no museum like this in either Ankara or Istanbul – a big gap that needs filling.  Anastasios Leventis (1902-1978), who established the foundation that supports this museum, was a Cypriot businessman who made a fortune in Ghana and Nigeria.  He might be surprised at the ethnic diversity of today’s Nicosia. 

In addition to Filipinos seen in the Catholic church, we passed by Sri Lankan markets and Arab (Syrian, Egyptian) shops, including a barbershop. 

        Further along, we reached the large Omeriye Mosque, originally a Catholic church, converted during Ottoman times. Beyond lies the Archbishop’s Palace, a grandiose building in Neo-Byzantine style constructed in 1956-60. 

 Side entrance, Archbishop's Palace

 

The first president of the Republic of Cyprus was, in fact, an archbishop, Makarios III, and a large statue of him stands in the front garden.

        Across the street is the Pancyprian Gymnasium, the oldest high school on the island, with Makarios III, Glafkos Clerides, and Tassos Papadopoulous, all former presidents of Cyprus, among its alumni. Lawrence Durrell taught English there in the mid-1950s.   

Founded in 1812, the school was rebuilt in 1920, following a fire, in the Neo-Classical style. The Neo-Classical style was a favorite in 19th and 20th century Greece, and in the Greek neighborhoods of pre-World War I Istanbul, but here on Cyprus, it’s not as frequently seen.

        We ended the walk with dinner at Zanettos, a taverna near the Omeriye Mosque. Inside, simple tables, lots of them, and the walls covered with photos of the owner with, I assume, Cypriot celebrities. The restaurant offers for 21 € a set meal of “meze.” This sounded fine. Meze are a Turkish staple; a tray is typically brought to the table and you pick the dishes  you want. In Greek Cyprus, at least in this taverna, it doesn’t work this way. The meze meal is a stream of dishes, no choice at all, from olives and salads and vegetables to meats of various sorts, most quite familiar from Turkey (well, not the snails or the pork).  Although each dish was small, we were given far more food than we could possibly eat.

“Delicious” I cried, “but enough!”

The waitresses simply smiled and continued to bring more dishes, ending with robust portions of fruit and pastry.  What a shame not to be able to finish it all!  But this was not unexpected, I think.  The walk back to the hotel was definitely needed.

        The next morning, after an abundant breakfast buffet, we headed off to the Cyprus Museum. The Neo-Classical facade is modest, and gives no clue about the size of the museum. This is the island’s principal archaeological museum, founded in 1882, early in the British period. Until the opening of regional museums in recent years, this museum housed everything. The collections are comprehensive, from Neolithic to medieval, with famous pieces. 

 The "ingot god" from Enkomi

 

Some galleries have been redone recently, with attractive, instructive panels, while other displays are in serious need of updating. 

 The face of the "ingot god" from Enkomi

 

        After the museum, we returned to the hotel and took a taxi to the Hertz office in the outlying district of Strovolos, to pick up our rental car.  Then off to Larnaca. 

        (to be continued)