Walls designed to keep people in or out — whether they are in Berlin, Nicosia, Israel or Korea — are always the product of fear. East German leaders’ fear of a mass exodus by their citizens seeking freedom and dignity; Greek and Turkish Cypriot leaders’ fear of continued war; Israelis’ fear of terrorism; or the North Korean leadership’s fear of “abandonment” by their martyred people.
To freeze a fragile status quo, to consolidate one’s position, or to remain separate from others perceived as temptations or threats (or both) — such have always been the goals of politicians who build walls.
Why is there such a difference between the fate of Berlin — now a capital city where the progress of the present is slowly covering the many scars of the past — and the fate of Nicosia, where time has been frozen, or that of Israel, whose “security wall” is expanding like a fresh scar, not to mention the North Korean regime’s unlikely consolidation behind its walls of paranoia and oppression?
To understand these different situations, one must consider the will of people to destroy their walls in the case of East Germany, to expand them in the case of Israel and to freeze them in the case of Cyprus and the government of North Korea. Of course, the qualities — or lack of them — of the respective leaders are also an important factor.
The Berlin Wall collapsed in 1989 much more rapidly than most West Germans would have dreamed (or dreaded). They had underestimated the strength of “German national feeling” in the East and they grossly overestimated the Soviet Union’s ability and will to keep its empire at all costs. Above all, Mikhail Gorbachev will remain the man who had the vision and the courage not to oppose the course of history. He may not have fully understood what was happening before his eyes and the forces that he had unleashed, but his restraint constitutes true greatness.
The miracle of today’s reunified Berlin is a challenge — even a provocation — to all walls. It is proof that in a globally interdependent world, walls are unnatural and artificial — and therefore doomed. Yet the truth is far more complex, for walls are a multilayered reality and it is always dangerous to rewrite history in a Manichean manner, while confusing the realities of the past with those of the present.
Nicosia, the divided capital of Cyprus, is the perfect antithesis to Berlin and as such the best illustration of what happens when history does freeze. There, empty windows filled with sandbags continue to face each other defiantly, symbols of a past that has not passed for decades. Of course, crossing the Green Line that separates the Greek and Turkish parts of the city is nothing like crossing Berlin’s infamous Checkpoint Charlie. It is no longer a traumatic experience, just a bureaucratic hassle.
East Germans wanted to unify the German state for the sake of the unity of their nation: “We are one people” was their motto.
Are Greek Cypriots seriously interested in reunifying their island? Do they wish to extend to the Turkish Northern Cyprus the evident benefits that they derive from membership of the EU, which came in 2004? Most likely, they do not.
As for Turkey’s government, its official priority remains its own entry into the EU. It cannot say loud and clear that it is not seriously interested in the fate of Cyprus, but that is probably not far from the truth. In any case, the two sides have wasted so many opportunities in the past decades — owing in part to leaders characterized by what might best be described as “competitive mediocrity” — that it is difficult to see a miracle on the horizon.
RSS