by CopperLine » Wed Jul 25, 2007 2:34 pm
Two parables :
(1) My grandfather's hammer. My grandfather was given a hammer by his father, and the hammer was made up of a metal head and a wooden shaft. Over the years the wooden shaft began to split. So my grandfather replaced the wooden shaft. When my grandfather died my father, a craftsman like his father before him, inherited my grandfather's hammer. Over the years of constant use the head of the hammer become rounded and pitted so my father replaced the head of the hammer. My father died last month and I inherited the hammer. Did I inherit, though, my grandfather's hammer ?
(2) The philosopher Heraclitus (6th century BCE), resident of Ephesus, asked whether one could step in the same river or stream twice since, after all, the water which swirled around your legs on the first occasion was never going to be the same water that would swirl around your legs on a second occasion. If the water is not and can never be the same, Heraclitus reasoned and asked, we cannot call this the same stream or river thus we never step in the same river twice.
What have these two parables got to do with the question of indigeneity ?
There are basically two related strategies pursued by those who insist on the importance of indigeneity. First is the claim to precedence and originality in which people say 'we/I was here first and therefore we/I have first and exclusive claim on this land/property...' Second, a line of succession or hierarchy of claims is established so that those who have 'been here longest', even if not ultimately indigenous, have greater claim than those who have 'been here shorter'.
The trouble with almost all indigenist-based claims is that they are undermined by one or both of the two parables noted at the outset. Virtually all indegenist claims - with the possible exceptions of Australian aboriginals, the Nunavummiut of Nunavut (Canada), and one or two others - don't stand up to historical scrutiny. It is impossible - again with perhaps the odd exception (which proves the rule) - to demonstrate the claimed continuity as some on this topic have tried to do of either 'Turkishness' or 'Greekness' over centuries let alone millenia. To use the metaphors contained in the two parables, the head and the shaft of the hammer have been replaced so many times by each generation that the original hammer was lost way, way back; equally, so much water has passed down the river, the stones in the river bed have shifted, the river banks have change shape, even the course of the river has changed that whilst we think it to be the same river, all its main characteristics are unrecognisable.
But parabales and metaphors aren't necessarily good enough, strong enough to resolve these kinds of problems. So one could look briefly a the definitions of 'Greekness' and 'Turkishness' which indegenists (a form of modern day nationalism) might use.
Let's start with the most notorious, if sadly still powerful claim, of 'blood line'. Is it possible to identify a difference between a Turkish blood type and a Greek blood type ? Answer, no. No self-respecting scientist - biologist, geneticist or haematologist - anywhere in the world can make such a distinction. Fortunately this Nazi 'science' was dismissed and sent to the rubbish-bin of history in the 1940s. Those who continue to speak of Turkish and Greek blood, of Jewish or Christian blood, of Armenian or Macedonian blood, of African or Caucasian blood continue to peddle pure nonsense.
What about continuities of family ? Couldn't we trace a family line back not just decades, but even centuries ? First, in principle, assuming the survival and accuracy of written records this is possible but practically speaking is very difficult to do. Even then families are not neat and discrete units and there is constant cross-marrying between families. If one considers just one moment in, let's say, twelfth century Cyprus, the Lusignan families did not consider themselves French (though the Lusignan line is considered to originate in central France) because, amongst other reasons, there was no notion of France as a nation. Second, families - whether extended or nuclear - rarely see themselves first and foremost as Greek or Turkish or British i.e, national. Most families across history have seen themselves first and foremost as ... well... families, connected usually across three generations (grandparents, parents, grandchildren) very rarely across four generations. The parable of the grandfather's hammer is the most appropriate here. Third, intermarriage between families - some long-term residents of the island, some new arrivals, some temporary visitors, some emigrants, some immigrants - over hundreds of years dissolves the 'purity' of the indigenist family. And if you think that my argument here is ill-founded then you might want to explain (a) the general prohibition in monotheistic religions on incest and (b) the historical fact that reproduction of all families in all societies tends to move outwards i.e, bringing in 'outsiders' and that families which have reproduced internally have tended to collapse and disappear. Hence there is no such thing as an indigenist family.
The next obvious candidate for the indigenist claim is religion. 'Those Turks,' the indigenist Greek might claim, 'are Muslims.' And the indigenist Turk conversely claims that 'Those Greeks, they're all Orthodox'. Apart from the fact that neither claim is accurate, we have to acknowledge that the Ottoman empire was composed of Greek-speaking Muslims and Turkish (and Arabic) speaking Christians. The Byzantine empire was slightly less diverse in its religious and linguistic variety and diversity but the same point obtains. The British empire was tolerant of a variety of religions and languages, even though the official language of empire was English and the monarch/emperor was head of the Church of England. So throughout Cyprus' history for two millenia or so religious identity and profession of faith was *not* tied exclusively to 'Greekness' or 'Turkishness'.
What about language ? And to my mind, this is the nub of the question. The principal identifiable difference between Turkish Cypriots and Greek Cypriots is not blood (total unscientific nonsense), it is not family (inter-marriage over hundreds of years, tendency to reproduce with the outside), and it is not religion, but language. The trouble if for indegenists who want to claim 'I/we always spoke Greek/Turkish' is that this is unlikely to be true past three or four generations. A more accurate portrayal is that different languages, either in succession or in combination were likely to have been spoken or understood by different generations as time went by. Nor, it should be added, do languages stand still. They are in constant changes and development so the Turkish of 17th century Cyprus is likely to be largely not understandable to the 21st century turkish cypriot. The same goes for Greek, just as the same goes for 16th-17th century English of Shakespeare - how many current English speakers complain that they haven't got a clue what is being said when Hamlet or Macbeth speak ... and yet Shakespeare's language is most definitely English.
I'll end this posting on a tangent though. In Spain, especially once it was an EU member and therefore part of a 'europe of nations' (i.e, not just a Europe of state), there has been the rise of language politics such that the regions of Catalunya, Euzkadi (Basque region), Galiza, Asturias, Extremadura, even Leon prosper through the adoption and promotion of different non-Spanish (i.e, non-Castillano) language. These profound linguistic differences have not brought the end of a unified Spanish state, in fact many claim that the differences have served to strengthened the Spanish state.
That in Cyprus there are two (or three, with English) main language groups is not necessarily a recipe for division - on the contrary, it could be the basis of a fruitful unity.
Copperline
