The Peace Cake

Next month in Sydney and Melbourne, Australia, there will be two consecutive Conflict Resolution Workshops for members of the Turkish Cypriot and Greek Cypriot communities. This is a historic move. It is the first time that something like this, with a view to establish a bicommunal group, has happened in Australia. We even have Federal Government funding and the workshops will run under the auspices of the Cyprus Reproachment Project.

As a peace activist for Cyprus, I volunteered to recruit nominees for the workshops from amongst the Turkish Cypriot community in Sydney – a task that has become even harder than I ever imagined. I was at my best friend’s engagement last week and took the opportunity to approach a few people, including her cousin – an educated professional. I thought he’d be open to the idea but I was wrong. Although he wasn’t against the idea of bicommunal activities he told me that there were many things I didn’t understand, like Hellenism. He suggested I read about it. He also told me that the idea of peace and reunification for Turkish Cypriots is like trying to describe the tastiest cake possible to someone who has been starving most of their life. Someone whose tastebuds are lucky to experience even just the basic foods let alone a delicious cake.

He also asked me “Why did the Greek Cypriots vote NO in the referendum then?” At this point my own mother started her own little campaign talking about pre 1974 events. I was in a disposition. I felt that no matter what I said, these people would not understand. And I didn’t have the power one gets from walking side by side with 80,000 other people in protest. I didn’t have the privilege of experience or direct activist networks. All because I was born in Australia, and right now Cyprus feels like a million miles away.

But what I do have is hope – and a lot of it. So I took my hope, I took their comments and their questions, and in my best Turkish Cypriot dialect, I said:

“I acknowledge what you are all saying. I accept that these events happened and it’s a tragedy that they did. But how will we, as a people, progress when we let the past dictate our future?”

My question was hit with an array of answers and comments that had the beat of the same old drum, and although I will always have a high regard for my elders, I sat there wondering, that short of a miracle, what would it take for them to conceive a new possibility of a reunified, democratic Cyprus?

Do we really want to raise another generation of Cypriots who are indifferent to, and disconnected from the land in which they may have been born? What other choice do we have when it wasn’t our decision to be born in England, or Australia, or America? How are we supposed to care when our parents don’t?

Amongst the chaos and confusion, and despite its dividing line and the presence of thousands of soldiers, Cyprus runs through my blood. It is an undeniable foundation for our identity, no matter what part of the world we end up in.

So as the struggle continues on this tiny island, a parallel struggle is occurring for Cyprus outside its borders. We, the children of the diaspora, who envision a peaceful Cyprus, face an extra struggle in breaking down barriers that have remained intact for thirty years, untouched by the recent years of change.

This makes me think about the cake my best friend’s cousin mentioned, let’s say we call it the Peace Cake. Perhaps the starving person can one day taste this delicious cake that for now it cannot fathom? But the Peace Cake can only taste amazing if we all contribute to its ingredients, share in its preparation, and allow ourselves to eat it together!

copyleft (c) 2001-03 hamamboculeri.org