Special report
EU ENLARGEMENT
No love lost
May 29th 2008
From The Economist print edition
The two halves of Aphrodite’s island remain at loggerheads
A new take on the Green LineFOR a restaurant built in ten days flat and opened only five days before your correspondent’s visit, the Corado kebab house in Nicosia grills a pretty good chicken. The restaurant lies a few metres north of the Green Line that has been separating the Greek-speaking majority from the Turkish-speakers in the north for more than 40 years, cutting the island of Cyprus into two. On a recent spring evening business was humming as kebabs were rushed to tables in the alley outside its open-fronted kitchen. Four other restaurants opened nearby in the space of a week.
This mini-boom was prompted by increased freedom of movement. Politicians and security chiefs from both sides agreed to open a new crossing-point round the corner from the Corado on April 3rd. The opening followed the election defeat of the island’s hardline president, Tassos Papadopoulos. The new president, Demetris Christofias, and the northern Cypriot leader, Mehmet Ali Talat, know each other well: they are comrades from the pan-Cypriot trade-union movement. This has sparked cautious optimism about fresh peace talks launched in March.
It has been possible to cross the Green Line in a few places since 2003, but after the initial enthusiasm the number of people making the journey dropped sharply. This latest crossing, on Ledra Street, the old commercial heart of the capital, is different. Crossing elsewhere takes planning; at Ledra Street, you can cross on a whim. After the bland modernity of Greek-speaking Nicosia, the Turkish side offers a jumble of crumbling mansions and scruffy bazaars, mosques of honey-coloured stone and weed-filled ruins.
Numbers of those crossing northward nearly doubled to some 55,000 in the week after Ledra Street opened, with crowds of Greek-Cypriots joined by the odd sunburnt tourist. Staff at the Corado thought their new customers were attracted by the low prices. Greek-Cypriots said curiosity was a bigger lure. Either way, being able to cross at Ledra Street feels long overdue. The Republic of Cyprus, which in legal terms means the whole island, joined the EU in 2004, and Cypriots on both sides of the Green Line are citizens of the union. Yet the frozen conflict has only partly thawed. Around the corner from the new crossing, with its tubs of flowers and smart awnings, the old barrier still snakes its way through the city, guarded by troops.
The first four years of Cypriot membership amount to a failure for the EU’s enlargement policy. Turkey does not recognise the Republic of Cyprus, even though it is itself a candidate to join the club of which Cyprus is now a member. Turkish-Cypriots were promised access to all the familiar instruments of European soft power. Direct trade with the EU was to be encouraged, and €259m was to be spent on things like scholarships, waterworks and projects to foster links between the two Cypriot communities. But progress has foundered on Turkish-Cypriot demands for direct trade and Greek-Cypriot blocking of any project that implies recognition of the authorities in the Turkish north. A deadline for using the cash promised in 2004 is drawing near, yet by March 2008 only 5% of it had been spent.
All or nothing
In Brussels, Cypriot diplomats’ obstruction of EU projects designed to end the isolation of the north cause anger. Many say Cyprus should never have been admitted as a divided island. In truth, the EU had no choice. Greece made it clear that it would not approve any new expansion of the EU unless it included Cyprus.
Cypriot officials often have the law on their side. The European Commission admits, for example, that it is hard to plan infrastructure projects in the north when an estimated 78% of private land there belongs to Greek-Cypriot families. But insisting on those legal rights has costs. Free movement of goods, people and services is not just a technical aspect of life in the EU: the EU’s transformative power is based on economics.
It was never likely that western Europe stopped warring and borders disappeared because Europeans became kindlier or more prepared to observe international treaties. Clearly, prosperity made sharing easier and cross-border trade made all participants better off. But in Cyprus, the past four years have offered a demonstration of what happens when politics blocks that economic alchemy: peace stalls.
Strictly speaking, EU law is "suspended" in the north, home to about 30,000 Turkish troops who never left after invading the island in 1974 and driving a third of the Greek-speaking population from their homes. In the Turkish telling of it, their troops came to bring peace after inter-communal violence and a military coup in the south aimed at uniting Cyprus with Greece. Since 1983 the northern side has called itself the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, an isolated non-state recognised only by Turkey.
In the eyes of Greek-Cypriots, the occupation must be ended by a peace settlement under which all Turkish troops leave and stolen Greek-Cypriot property is returned or proper compensation paid. A week before Cyprus joined the EU, Greek-Cypriot voters rejected a United Nations peace plan that they felt did not offer enough on either front (but Turkish-Cypriots voted yes).
Official figures show two-way trade across the Green Line to be worth less than €500,000 a month, with black-market trade perhaps five times as large. Turkish-Cypriot goods are unwelcome in the south. Turkish-Cypriots themselves—or at least the 82,000 or so who hold Cypriot ID cards—come to the richer south for shopping and free medical care. Greek-Cypriots head north for beaches, casinos and brothels. But although workers are in short supply in the south, thanks mainly to a property boom, only 6,000 Turkish-Cypriots commute to work in the south.
A recent study by a Norwegian group, the Peace Research Institute of Oslo (PRIO), suggests that a reunified Cyprus could gain €1.8 billion a year from increased tourism and freed-up trade with Turkey. Manthos Mavrommatis, head of the Greek-Cypriot chamber of commerce, notes that Greek-Cypriot businessmen are a swash-buckling lot, investing in tough spots from Russia to Syria, yet Turkey is seen as off-limits even though it is the biggest market in the region. Turkey’s refusal to open its ports and airports to Cypriot ships and airliners (despite a promise to do so) is driving away more and more shipping business to rivals such as Malta.
Right or might?
Yet politicians rarely make an economic case for peace. At his (legally non-existent) presidential palace, the northern leader, Mr Talat, asked how he would try to persuade Greek-Cypriots to back a future settlement, does not mention free movement of people or goods. Instead, he issues a warning that Turkish-Cypriot opinion has become disenchanted with the EU in the past four years and there is a real threat of permanent partition. "In Cyprus, the economy is a secondary issue," he says. He does concede that the recent adoption of the euro in the south solves one problem that has caused rows in the past: how to merge currencies in a united Cyprus.
In his (much larger) palace on the southern side, Mr Christofias offers just one reason for the failure of EU policies to promote free movement and trade. The "so-called isolation" of the north is "a result of the invasion and the occupation by the Turkish army of this part of the island of the Republic of Cyprus," he says.
The largely unseen presence of that huge Turkish garrison is enough to dampen the optimism of many Greek-Cypriots. Mr Talat is widely dismissed as an incidental figure, with mainland generals seen as the real powers in the north.
That points to another lesson Cyprus offers about EU enlargement. The EU’s structure—which pretends that all member states, of whatever size, are equally important—does not fit well with the hardheaded business of relations with big, powerful neighbours. In the EU’s calculation of how hard to push Cyprus and Turkey respectively, Cyprus has EU membership, as well as the law, on its side, whereas Turkey can muster big strategic arguments. For a union that swears by the rule of law but has big strategic ambitions, that is an unacknowledged dilemma.
http://www.economist.com/specialreports ... d=11436638