by Hans Warreyn
about a green line
Back in 1964, a colonial major-general is said to have drawn a green line on a map. Since then, this line has been turned into a war zone, a peacekeeping zone, a home, a field, a minefield, a place of observation, conservation and decay, a dead zone, a buffer zone. It is an eerie place. This is not about that line. It is about what surrounds it. Its presence can be felt – in front of your eyes or in the back of your mind – even by its absence.
This is Cyprus.
Πριν απο μερικά χρόνια, το 1964 συγκεκριμένα, ένας υποστράτηγος του αποικιακού στρατού λέγεται ότι εσχεδίασε μιαν πράσινη γραμμή Rivayete göre, 1964 επάνω σ´ενα χάρτη. yılında, bir sömürge Απο τότε, αυτή Tümgenerali harita η γραμμή εχει üzerine yeşil bir hat çizmiş. Ve o zamandan beriχρησιμεύσει ως ζώνη πολέμου, ζώνη ειρήνης, bu hat, bölgeyi, bir savaş ve barış alanına, bir yu-ως μια κατοικία, ενα χωράφι, ένα ναρκοπέδιο, vaya, tarlaya, bir mayın tarlasına, sadece gözlemενας χόρος παρακολούθησης, συντήρησης και yapilan ve bölgenin korunması icin kullanılanπαρακμής, ως ζώνη νεκρή, ως ζώνη ουδέτερη ölü ve tampon bir bölgeye dönüştürmüştür.μεταξύ δυο αντιμαχομένων δυνάμεων. Εχει Ürkütücü bir yerdir burası.μεταβληθεί σε μια μυστηριώδη , μαγική περιοχή. Bu durum, hattın kendisiyle ilgili değil, hattınΕδω δεν βλέπουμε απλώς την γραμμή αλλά όλα çevresindekilerle ilgilidir.αυτά που την περιστοιχίζουν. Varlığını, görseniz de görmeseniz de her daimΗ παρουσία της είναι αισθητή - μπροστά στα hissedersiniz. Hatta yokluğunu da.μάτια σου ή πίσω απο το μοιαλό σου. -ακόμα και η απουσία της. Burası, Kıbrıs.Αυτή είναι η Κύπρος.
A view down from the Venetian walls in LefkoĹ&#x;a, at Kyrenia gate, or is it on the north end of Lefkosia at Girne gate?
On almost the exact opposite side of the old town, at Tripoli bastion. Same Venetian walls, different city.
Mountain ridges are seldom as innocent as they appear. Looking closer the border post on the left side is guarded, the photographer may well have been spotted.
Some ten kilometres north of the buffer zone, just off a small dirt road. Cyprus is very green and colourful in early spring. But the reason this quiet open space still exists may well be due to a different shade of green. This was one of the few spots along this road without direct military presence prohibiting a picture. Without that presence, this whole area would undoubtedly be more developed, and perhaps less green in any shade.
This view was taken four metres from the buffer zone, which can also look very peaceful in places.
The beach near Kato Pyrgos, with the weather looking a bigger threat than the prefab bunker units.
St.-Paul’s church in Ayios Dhometios looks a little threatening from the front, flying Greek flags and with status commemorating fallen soldiers. It was newly built in the 90’s, next to the old church of the same name. From the back it looks more peaceful. Ironically, this is the side facing the North, with the buffer zone a good two hundred metres away. Churches and mosques play an important role in Cyprus’ landscape. New ones are being built, such as in Bostancı (below right). Old ones are visited by all faiths for nostalgia, a Muslim visitor of the hermit church at the deserted village of Agios Sozomenos (bottom right) told me to burn a candle there, as it was tradition. The repurposing of holy buildings predates the current struggles in Cyprus. The Lala Mustafa Pasha Mosque (below left) in Famagusta was once known as the Cathedral of Saint Nicholas, before its conversion at the time of the Ottoman conquest in 1571.
Urban development cannot be seen independent of the island’s division. Construction goes ahead outwards in Nicosia, while the historic centre remains largely untouched and in decline. Roads are being planned into a future which has not yet arrived, through the buffer zone or in search for alternate tourist locations. On top of which an economic crisis which hit hard in places.
Perhaps this is the border at its most peaceful. From below you look up to a nice park, watching people drink tea. But it is from above that you most often see people looking down with anticipation, at Paphos gate with its gun turrets.
Expressions of hope and unity are less ubiquitous than expressions of separation. But they are there.
Flags are everywhere in Cyprus. Whether it is at a military cemetery commemorating the Turkish Army landing in Alsancak (right), or a local plaque commemorating fallen townsmen in the suburb of Ayios Dhometios (below), they never fly by themselves. Invariably, a Greek or Turkish flag accompanies the Cypriot ones. It makes this feel more like a proxy war at times.
Despite the peace laurels on the flag of the Republic of Cyprus, it hardly ever feels like a symbol of reconciliation or bipartisanship.
The peak of Mount Olympus, highest point of the island. Yet another area accessible to some army or other.
An accidental double exposure it may be, but it is could not be more to the point. The village of Petrofani seemingly dissolving into the clouds is another ghost town in the buffer zone near Athienou.
The mountain side is no-man’s land. The abandoned village of Selemani in plain view in the buffer zone.
Army presence is so common that when an area is blocked off to the general public one assumes it must be for a military installation. The long wave masts of Radio Cyprus prevent access to the point of Cape Greco.
Ledra Palace crossing is just around the corner. During the week this ground at the bottom of the Venetian walls in Nicosia is used as a makeshift parking area, like so many inner city wastelands. On Sundays it turns into a cricket field, leaving an air of British colonialism.
What looks like a regular Sunday afternoon football match turns out to be Senegal playing Ivory Coast. Many African players try their luck in the North-Cyprus league, but very few make it as their number is limited to two per club. They play each other to keep in shape. Their hope is to play in the European Union one day. Its border is just a few hundred metres beyond their practice field. However, as the Republic of Cyprus considers them illegal immigrants, the EU remains a far away dream for these players.
Whether you call her by her less Greek name Venus or Aphrodite, at least all seem to agree Cyprus is her island, this is her birthplace. Unfortunately the goddess of love, beauty, pleasure and procreation does not have reconciliation among her duties.
A forbidden picture if ever there is one. From the beach of one of the most surreal places on this island: the city of Varosha, a very well guarded forbidden paradise for urbex photographers, an extremely sad example of decay. Armed soldiers look out over the beach with a backdrop of a dilapidated holiday resort. Standing here makes one wonder how this can ever be fixed.
For me, the spirit of the green line was pervasive. In showing you these images, I wish to help it escape.
Cyprus, March-April 2017 – © Hans Warreyn – http://hanswarreyn.photography
Terrible things happened in the modern history of Cyprus. Statues were erected allover to commemorate fallen heroes, victims and culprits alike. For me this pedestal feels exactly like the state of the island. It is unclear whether it is under construction or in decline. Will it bring honour to a friend or foe? Through the making of these images, I have become rather fond of Cyprus. Its people without exception have been kind and welcoming to me. It is in this kindness that Cyprus feels most united. It is in the symbolism that it feels most divided.