When, even in the face of death, identity becomes more important than human life
There are moments when a society is tested not only by what has happened, but also by the way it reacts. The recent shipwreck off the coast of Kyrenia is one such moment. People lost their lives, others are missing, and families are still waiting for news. Among them are children, a fact that makes the tragedy even more heartbreaking.
And yet, comments have appeared on social media—even from “well-known figures”—who treated these deaths not as a human tragedy, but as an occasion for schadenfreude and celebration.
ΣΧΕΤΙΚΑ ΑΡΘΡΑ
And here lies the almost philosophical question. What must happen within a person for the death of another human being to cease to move them (at the very least) simply because the deceased belongs to the “other side”?
Dehumanization
Social psychologists use the term “dehumanization” to describe the process by which certain people are not perceived as ordinary human beings.
Nick Haslam, a professor of psychology at the University of Melbourne, distinguishes between “zoomorphic” dehumanization, which is often observed in the context of intense racism and ethnic conflicts, where the “other” is portrayed as inferior or animal-like.
Thus, a person may consider themselves compassionate and sensitive to suffering while at the same time feeling that the death of a member of “other” group is unimportant or may even evoke feelings of satisfaction.
“Us” and “Them”
Social psychology has identified just how strong the human need is to divide the world into “us” and “them.” In Cyprus, this takes on particular significance, as the two communities carry different collective memories, traumas, and historical narratives. Research has linked social identity and a sense of victimization to more negative attitudes toward the other community. The problem becomes even more serious when pain is transformed into “punishment by fate.” “You deserve what you get for what you did to us.”
This creates a vicious cycle. When one group feels that the other treats it as less than human, it may respond with extreme behaviors.
And yet this can change
Dehumanization can be addressed, no matter how difficult it may seem. Studies have shown that intergroup contact can reduce prejudice and strengthen support for reconciliation. A lack of contact alienates people and fuels divisive narratives. A child or an adult who comes into contact with someone from the “others” will discover that they have far more in common than what divides them, and that the other’s joy and pain can touch us just as deeply. This is something the leaderships of both communities have failed to promote for so many years, with the result that any efforts have been left to a segment of civil society or to organized groups. But that is not enough. We need genuine experiences initiated by our leaders, in which the “other” ceases to be an abstract category and is instead seen as a person with a family, friends, dreams, fears, and hope.
A telling example is that of my cousin, who left to fight in the war and started a family abroad. When he came back with his family for the first time, he wanted to show his children the place where he was born and raised. On our way back to the free areas, we couldn’t find the exit from the checkpoint, and a Turkish Cypriot helped us. He went out of his way and took us to the checkpoint. As he said goodbye, he gave the children chocolate and cookies that he had bought for his own children. My cousin’s reaction was typical. “Now we’re going to confuse the kids!” You see, they grew up hearing a different story all these years.
So if the leaders of the two communities, the schools, and the institutions choose to cultivate fear, division, and memory as tools of confrontation, then the “other” will always remain an enemy. If, on the other hand, they choose truth, recognition, and human contact, then there is a real chance of breaking the cycle of dehumanization. There is the example of South Africa with its Truth and Reconciliation Commission. I will never forget my visit to the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg, a space that serves not only as a place of remembrance but also as a reminder that confronting the truth of the past can be a prerequisite for reconciliation and overcoming division.
The Real Test of Humanity
And here lies the true test that both communities must pass. It is easy to be human toward those we love. The hard part is remaining humane toward those we have learned to regard as “others.” The goal is not for us all to agree on everything or to be the same. Because the moment ethnicity, religion, or political identity determines who deserves to be mourned and who does not, we don’t just have a problem with the “other.” We have a problem with our very own humanity.
P.S.: The other day, I saw a podcast that artfully revived the narrative about the reprehensible “we did a lot of that too,” which is supposedly used to justify the atrocities committed by the Turkish army and extremist Turkish Cypriots during the invasion. No one uses this expression to justify those crimes. And if anyone does, it is unacceptable. This phrase is used to show that our own extremists also committed atrocities and war crimes. Something we never learned about or condemned. Not officially, at least. Of course, the other community does the same. They repeat whatever suits them. “The evil Greeks.” So, if a people wants to move forward, it must hear the truth—no matter how harsh—from the most authoritative sources. That is, of course, if we want to move forward and look to the future with optimism. If we don’t, let each side continue with its own divisive narrative, and good luck to both communities—as António Guterres meaningfully wished us in 2017.
