Andromachi Sophocleous

Political Analyst / Bicommunal Peace Activist

 
 
 

“If we truly want to have a future for this island, we need reunification.”

We met Andromachi in an abandoned mansion – “Archontiko,” as it’s referred to by the Greek Cypriots – in the buffer zone. It’s situated in the green line, a strip of uninhabited land that stretches the island from East to West, separating the Republic of Cyprus from the TRNC. Hidden from the buzzing street of Ledra in the capital’s centre, the buffer zone offers a faint glimpse into what the city once was before the events of 1974. The mansion sports visible bullet holes and defence sandbags lined along the windows. Andromachi sits on the crumbling stairway at the entrance of the building.

“Whenever I talk about Cyprus, I always say that if someone wants to understand who we are, they ought to look at our food,” she tells me. “What is our food? It’s a multicultural platter. It’s a combination of many cultures, people, and civilizations.”

That theme is recurring among many Cypriot youths. While there has been a growing interest from the younger generation exploring what it even means to be ‘Cypriot,’ the synthetic aspect of the island makes it difficult to pinpoint a coherent definition. According to Andromachi, the Cyprus problem has become a hindrance in that exploration.

 “If you ask me, I think that because of the division, we’re so consumed by the conversations surrounding our national identity, the sides we support, the places in which we live, that we forget about that element,” she continued. “We forget that at the end of the day, us Cypriots are a fusion of multiple cultures and influences, and that’s precisely what makes us who we are.”

 Andromachi’s eyes light up as she excitedly lists some of her favourite gems from the local cuisine. As she puts it, Cypriot food isn’t just a simple blend of Turkish and Greek flavours, but rather a colourful mix that also includes influences from the island’s neighbours in the Middle East.  Her excitement quickly fades, however, as she describes some of the dishes she tried from the Turkish-speaking community that have faded with time in the south.

“Just as we Cypriot people divided, so did our food,” she says. “We’ve left pieces of ourselves behind. But these pieces of our culture — it’s sad that we’ve forgotten them.”

In her years working as a peace activist, Andromachi has more than her fair share of stories to tell about the island. But upon asking her for her favourite, she sighs as she attempts to dig up a positive anecdote to share.

 “In my eyes, everything is political,” she tells us, “so it’s hard not to think of a story that isn’t political.”

 That statement is one most would expect from Andromachi. A political analyst by trade, the 33-year-old has become a prominent voice for reunification amid activist circles on the island. In 2017, she became part of a spontaneous activist movement dubbed Unite Cyprus Now, which began as a collective multi-communal grassroots initiative to apply pressure on politicians to see through their promise on reunification. The group continues to be active today, still pursuing their mission of fostering peace and intercommunal communication.

 „To be honest, I can’t even think of a specific story to tell you. But what I can tell you is that as a person who grew up on a divided island and has such a history of pain, blood, and war, we’ve become so accustomed to hearing stories that either cause us pain, hate, or remind us of those things. That’s why for me, my favourite stories have always been those about coexisting, the stories about how we helped one another during difficult times.”

 “Stories about a Greek Cypriot who used to have a Turkish Cypriot neighbour with whom they celebrated both Christmas and Bayrami together. Stories of how during the conflict [in 1974] the communities came together to help and protect one another. These are my favourite stories. The ones we aren’t told. The stories we've hidden under the rug, so we can perpetuate hate and pain.”

 Andromachi stresses that the current narrative around the island’s recent history has driven the communities further apart. “We Cypriots believe that if we stop talking about the pains of our past, that somehow, we will forget,” she adds.

“I feel as though we’ve drowned ourselves in our own pain and can no longer see things clearly. And so many years [after the division], I would like especially for people of my generation or younger to be able to see things differently. To accept that we might have been both the victimizers and the victims at the same time. To understand that we shouldn’t be placing our pain on a scale– it’s pointless to do so. That’s our only way out of this situation.”

 
 
 

Andromachi in Cyprus

She fears that the current climate offers only bleak prospects for reunification. Peace talks facilitated by the UN and the international community since the 1960s have failed to find a long-lasting solution, and recent developments have shown a further deterioration in the relationship between the two sides. In the spring of 2021, the Turkish-Cypriot leader Ersin Tatar officially proposed a two-state solution in a first for the 60+ years of negotiations. In the south, Greek-Cypriot nationalists, traditionally hawkish towards their Turkish-speaking compatriots, are gaining more notoriety. The 2021 Republic of Cyprus’ parliamentary elections saw the far-right ultra-nationalist political party ELAM double their seats from two to four in the House of Representatives – an all-time high. All this is a sober reminder that despite the younger generation’s appetite for peace, division is all but permanent. For Andromachi, that all means that the Cyprus Problem is doomed to loom over Cypriot society for many years to come.  

 “I’m afraid of living in a Cyprus that is still drowning in hate, animosity, division,“ she says. “I fear I will still have to show my passport to cross to the other side of my own country, I fear I will have to continue explaining why I want to visit my whole country in spite of me having to show my passport.“

 In 2003, after 30 years of the north and south being completely closed off to contact by barbed wire and a UN peacekeeping mission in the buffer zone, the two sides agreed to open check points and allow crossings. To cross, visitors must show their ID or passport and register their entry with local custom officials. During the pandemic, the crossings closed for the first time since they were established for six months. While free movement has since resumed, it was an eerie reminder that the open line of communication isn’t to be taken for granted.

“If you ask me – it really scares me. I’m at the mercy of political decisions that can at any time take away my right to access to the rest of my country.”

Nevertheless, amid all the adversity, Andromachi continues to strive for a unified Cyprus. For without it, she claims, there is little to hope for in the future.

 “Without solving the division, we will never be able to improve our country for its citizens,” she stresses. “We will always be at the mercy of some politicians who have built a career around the division. So, for me, a solution is the only way to ensure a sustainable future for Cyprus. Anything else we do will just be workarounds. Anything we do now, before reunification, are just temporary solutions without the long term in mind.”

 “Living like this, under division, has forced many people to become hidden in the shadows. Migrants, asylum seekers, people from Africa – especially in the North – whose rights are barely discussed in public discourse. Because that discussion becomes a black hole; or at least we think so. If we truly want to have a future for this island, we need reunification.”