Haydi Gidelim: Kuzey Kibris

(TRNC and Turkish Flags flying above the fortress in Kyrenia Harbor)

Kuzey Kibris, Northern Cyprus, known to its inhabitants as the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, is a putative nation-state recognized by only two others, Turkey and Pakistan. According to the UN, the EU, FIFA the IOC and any other known international body, this is part of Cyprus.

But in practice it is clearly separate. In Kuzey Kibris everybody speaks Turkish. Although this is nominally part of Cyprus and therefore part of the EU, the local currency is Turkish lira, people watch Turkish TV and root for Turkish soccer teams, and there are statues and inscribed slogans of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk everywhere. In fact, there are Turkish flags everywhere, usually flying alongside the flag of the TRNC, which is basically the inversion of the Turkish flag, with a red crescent and star on a white field instead of white crescent and star on red field. The TRNC flag also has two parallel red bars running along the top and bottom of the white field.

The TRNC only exists, politically and economically, with Turkish support. Turkish soldiers have been here since 1974, when they swept in--according to Turkey and the TRNC--to defend ethnic Turks on the island from the depredations of the ethnic Greek majority. The Turkish soldiers pushed the meager Cypriot forces back to a "Green Line," an arbitrary border separating the northern third of the island from the southern two-thirds, bisecting the towns of Famagusta (Mağusa) and Nicosia (Lefkoşa). From the Turkish perspective, a strong Turkish armed presence was necessary to safeguard the lives of ethnic Turks and remains necessary to protect their interests.

From the perspective of Greek Cypriots, the Turkish armed forces were a hostile invading army that seized one third of the island and has refused to give it back.

The Turkish intervention in 1974--described by the Turks as liberation, and by Greek Cypriots as invasion--led to a miniature version of the Greek-Turkish population exchange of 1923, with ethnic Turkish Cypriots moving north of the Green Line and ethnic Greeks required to move south.

The UN has also had a peacekeeping here since 1974, and that international presence has helped forestall further violence. There has been no major ethnic violence on the island since.

We met with a member of the EU delegation in Northern Cyprus. The EU does not officially recognize the TRNC as an independent entity, but it needs to maintain a delegation, in hopes of working towards a solution, or just to keep up appearances. Our host was a soft-spoken, charmingly understated chap, son of a British mother and a father who hails from a family with 800 years of Cypriot history behind it.

He gave us a quick run-down of the Northern Cyprus Catch-22: if Turkey entered the EU, that would resolve the northern Cyprus dilemma. But the EU will not permit Turkey to enter until the northern Cyprus dilemma is resolved.

It doesn't look like anything will change in the near future. As our host put it, diffidently, "Well, from one standpoint the current situation is a bit of a solution. I mean, no one is getting killed."

True enough. Northern Cyprus might be the world's most peaceful disputed zone. In our 36-hour visit we heard repeatedly that everyone refers to the Cyprus posting as a vacation for UN troops. When we passed through the Green Line they seemed entirely preoccupied with checking their cell phones.

The downside is that Northern Cyprus is effectively locked into dependency on Turkey. Most of the potentially valuable land in Northern Cyprus remains disputed, as former Greek inhabitants insist their property rights are still valid, and EU courts have backed them up. That makes impossible any kind of international development, or even major Turkish touristic development. Within Famagusta there is a ghost town, a huge hotel development built by Lebanese investors in the 1960s, then abandoned in 1974. Its deserted, crumbling buildings are now fenced off and patrolled by the UN. (Theoretically patrolled, that is, as we didn't see anyone around when we drove by.)

Northern Cyprus produces olives and carob beans, but as it cannot comply with EU regulations, it cannot export to the EU. In practice, it has to sell any exports to our through Turkey. As a result, to maintain its interest on the island, Turkey directly subsidizes the economy of northern Cyprus.

The EU has provided very limited funds for some projects in Northern Cyprus, like putting protective railings on the cliffside lookouts of St Hilarion Castle. But for the most part the EU leaves Northern Cyprus alone.

This makes for an eerily slow-paced land. Long ago, Famagusta was one of the most bustling ports in the Mediterranean. Today it is a sleepy little town where they rolled up the sidewalks in 1974 and never unrolled them again. North of the Green Line, Nicosia/Lefkoşa boasts a fascinating combination of Byzantine, Gothic and Ottoman architecture. But even here in the "capital" you get the sense of being removed from the world.

Alanya feels insulated because it is a tourist bubble. Northern Cyprus feels insulated because it is in a time warp, where elements of the 1374 and 1974 overlap, with only fragmentary indications of more recent events.

(In the Royal Apartments at St. Hilarion Castle. )

(Hoyas storm St. Hilarion)

The high point, literally and figuratively, was St Hilarion Castle, on a lofty peak overlooking the port of Kyrenia/Girne (also known as Keryneia). There was a church there back in the Byzantine days, in the 600s, maybe earlier. (There were churches in Kyrenia hundreds of years earlier--Theodotus, Bishop of Kyrenia, batted cleanup in the church league in the early 400s.)

But most of the ruins still standing were built during the reign of the Lusignan dynasty, which controlled Cyprus from the Third Crusade in 1186 through the early 1400s. The Lusignans were southern Franks who brought Gothic architecture to Cyprus. The cathedrals they built down in the lowlands of Kyrenia and Nicosia are stolid and imposing. (When the Ottomans took over, they converted them to mosques by adding a minaret.) St. Hilarion, in contrast, up on the ridge, is ethereal and dreamlike, a child's fantasy of a castle. Did the Lusignans really build this to defend themselves from Arab raiders? Or did they build it for the sheer inutility of it, a graceful palace perched on a remote rocky spine?

We ascended just as a light rain began to fall. By the time we reached the highest outcropping, the peak was shrouded in mist, and a fierce wind blew in off the sea and swirled around us.

Legend has it that pagan demons howl on the mountain. Back in the early days of Christian settlement, so they say, the demon winds cast a spell on the locals. By the time the anchorite Hilarion himself came here after a lifetime wandering in the holy lands he was old and deaf, so they say. He was therefore immune to the effects of the shrieking demons and broke the spell. One wonders what the Turkish soldiers who seized the peak in 1974 made of the howling winds. Did they all go mad? Or did they stop up their ears?

Maybe the island needs a new Hilarion to climb the peak and shake northern Cyprus from its forced slumber. On second thought, another generation of napping might not be so bad. It is preferable to some of the most obvious alternatives.