This is the roadblock we must finally clear
“We’ll become even better friends if you actually overcome the obstacle of a roadblock to clear the way for a solution,” Averof Neophytou recently wrote in X, addressing the President of the Republic following the departure of the UN Secretary-General.
But are things really that simple?
ΣΧΕΤΙΚΑ ΑΡΘΡΑ
In my view, Cyprus’s “toughest” roadblock—the one that remains closed—is not located on the line of confrontation. It is the one that remains immovable within our minds.
Because the truth is hard, but it must be told. We were never truly ready to open that barrier. For decades, we preferred to perpetuate myths rather than prepare society for reality. We chose to believe that history would eventually vindicate us, that international developments would work in our favor, or that pressure would force Turkey to back down. Exactly the opposite has happened.
For decades now, we have been hearing the same slogans, the same promises, and the same assurances that a solution will come. In the 2004 referendum, our leadership at the time promised a European solution. A solution, however, that never came. Because the solution we truly want is different from the one we say we want.
For decades, our political system has not dared to tell the truth to the citizens. Instead of preparing the people for the difficult choices that any peace process entails, it fostered the illusion that a solution could exist without a cost—or worse still, that the absence of a solution comes at no cost. There are still forces that speak of a unified state, of liberation (how, exactly?), and of unyielding policies.
Unfortunately, we have never built a culture of compromise so that we would be ready when an intransigent Turkey shifts its position due to its own interests. We have never educated society to understand that peace is not achieved when everyone gets everything, but when everyone accepts that they will get less than they want in order to secure something much greater: the benefits of a solution. This is all the more true in our case, where the future of the Greek presence on the island is at risk in the long run due to the partition that a failure to reach a solution will lead to, and the annexation of the occupied territories by Turkey. It will then be only a matter of time before we lose our entire homeland for good in the long run.
Instead, we have fostered a culture of procrastination. A culture in which every new round of negotiations was portrayed as a concession, every compromise as a defeat, and every effort by the UN Secretary-General to launch negotiations as a threat. And this was due to the fears, obsessions, and illusions we have built up within ourselves.
Rauf Denktash once said that time would resolve the Cyprus issue. That statement has proven tragically relevant today. The two communities have drifted apart; the younger generations have grown up without shared experiences; ties with the occupied areas have weakened; and the status quo has gradually become a new reality. All the while, we were discussing how to avoid making difficult decisions. But time was making those decisions for us. In the history of the island, ever since Hellenism has existed, there has never been a period when part of the island lacked a Greek element. Never. If anyone can grasp what that means. This has been going on for more than half a century now, and the consequences are catastrophic.
At the same time, political power has repeatedly taken precedence over the homeland. Partisan expediency, personal ambitions, and electoral calculations have taken precedence over the need for a stable national strategy.
The most tragic thing, however, is that we never developed a culture of self-criticism. It was always the fault of foreigners, the great powers, or the United Nations. We never asked ourselves what we had done wrong. A nation that refuses to acknowledge its own mistakes is doomed to repeat them.
History does not forgive peoples who cling to illusions. If we continue to believe that the problem is a roadblock that remains closed, we will lose sight of the real problem. For fifty years now, the barrier has remained closed in our minds. And as long as it remains closed, the prospect of a solution will grow ever more distant.
This is the barrier we must, at long last, open. Because if we do not, history will be unforgiving toward us.
And one more thing. Let’s look in the mirror and truly ask ourselves what kind of solution we want. Let’s tell the truth for once. Let’s be honest, first and foremost, with ourselves.
P.S.
On the 14th of this month, it will be 52 years since the day we left Famagusta. We’ll hear the same empty rhetoric once again. Meanwhile, I realize that for the first time, I can’t remember the phone number of our home at 2 Livadion Street. The number that, for months after we left, my parents kept calling, hoping someone might answer.
