\u201cDisco,\u201d reads the faded banner above a doorway in Varosha, the abandoned southern district of Famagusta. Once a glamorous Mediterranean hotspot that drew Brigitte Bardot and Elizabeth Taylor, Varosha today is a concrete graveyard.<\/p>\n
When war divided the island in 1974 and Turkish forces took control of Famagusta, Greek Cypriot residents fled. The district was sealed off. The conflict began after a Greek-backed coup sought to unite the formerly British-ruled island with Athens, prompting a Turkish invasion that split Cyprus in two: the internationally recognized Republic of Cyprus in the south and the Turkish-controlled north, recognized only by Ankara.<\/p>\n
Today, Varosha, frozen in time, sits at the center of a half-century-long deadlock over Cyprus\u2019s fate Its once-grand Art Deco hotels from the 1950s and \u201960s now crumble under vines as trees grow through their roofs.<\/p>\n
Backed by Ankara, Turkish Cypriots have grown more willing to upend the stalemate, reopening of Varosha is part of that effort meant to signal that the status quo will no longer be accepted.<\/p>\n
\u201cI call this a comfortable conflict,\u201d said Ahmet S\u00f6zen, chair of the political science department at Eastern Mediterranean University in Famagusta. \u201cIt\u2019s not urgent. Nobody\u2019s killing one another.\u201d<\/p>\n
To reach Varosha, whose name means \u201csuburb\u201d in Turkish, you cross a checkpoint dividing the Republic of Cyprus from the Turkish-controlled north. The road is lined with barbed wire and \u201cForbidden Zone\u201d signs, flanked by rows of abandoned homes swallowed by weeds. Nearby sits one of the island\u2019s two Turkish military bases, with roughly 40,000 Turkish soldiers stationed across the north.<\/p>\n
\u201cVarosha carried half of Cyprus\u2019s tourism capacity. A lot of foreign money and property was there,\u201d S\u00f6zen said. \u201cTurkey kept Varosha as a trump card in negotiations\u2026 but then the Cyprus problem was left unresolved and it came to what it is today.\u201d<\/p>\n
After 46 years of closure under Turkish military control, the city partially reopened to visitors in October 2020. The move, backed by Ankara and led by Turkish Cypriot authorities, was condemned by the Republic of Cyprus, the EU and the United Nations as a violation of Security Council resolutions calling for Varosha to be placed under U.N. administration and returned to its rightful inhabitants.<\/p>\n
\u201cTurkish logic was: let\u2019s create some discomfort to nudge the Greek Cypriots out of their comfort zone,\u201d said Sertac Sonan, professor at the Cyprus International University.<\/p>\n
At a caf\u00e9 in the U.N. controlled Ledra Palace crossing in Nicosia, Turkish Cypriot analyst Mete Hatay called the reopening a darkly ironic gesture. \u201cThis is the most stupid museum you could see,\u201d he said. \u201cUsually, museums expose the perpetrators. But here, the perpetrators are exposing themselves. Why would you do it? Stupidity.\u201d<\/p>\n
On newly paved roads, U.N. jeep passes crumbling hotels and ivy coverred walls. Only a narrow section of the city is open, surrounded by concrete ruins. It feels like the movie set of a war that never ended, watched over by peacekeepers with nothing left to protect.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is one of the oldest peacekeeping missions, sixty years. And for what? Our Ministry of Foreign Affairs calls U.N. peacekeepers beach keepers,\u201d Sonan said.<\/p>\n
Today, the reopened zone, only 2% of the whole district, empty and silent, suspended between paradise and purgatory, has become something between a dark tourist stop and a political message.<\/p>\n
\u201cVarosha has a psychological effect; nobody must leave for you to go back\u201d, said Greek Cypriot analyst Sotiris Themistokleous of the Cyprus-based Center for Social Innovation. \u201cTurkey is saying that if we don\u2019t get a solution, we\u2019ll bring people there to live, and it\u2019s over.\u201d<\/p>\n
For now, it\u2019s just a threat but one that could become reality. On Varosha\u2019s once-exclusive beach, Turkish tourists now swim and sunbathe in waters untouched for decades, beneath an apocalyptic skyline of empty high-rises.<\/p>\n
Turkish Cypriot authorities claim more than 2 million people have visited since reopening. Visitors can rent bikes or scooters to pass by what used to be a Toyota dealership, a tailor\u2019s atelier, a bookstore. The windows are shattered, balconies decaying, fa\u00e7ades peeling under the sun.<\/p>\n
Turkish Cypriot authorities, with Ankara\u2019s support, continue to reject a federal settlement in favor of a two-state arrangement that would recognize the north as a separate sovereign entity, Varosha included. The position has hardened in recent years, reflecting Turkey\u2019s growing influence and the absence of meaningful negotiations.<\/p>\n
The north operates the Immovable Property Commission, which handles restitution and compensation for displaced Greek Cypriot owners. Authorities say it has received over 8,000 applications, handled 2000 and paid about $670 million, including some 600 claims tied to Varosha. They argue the process aligns with international law, while officials in the south and abroad dismiss it as a move that undermines peace efforts.<\/p>\n
At the Turkish Cypriot foreign ministry in north Nicosia, Aysan Mullahasan, director for political affairs, described the reopening as pragmatic. \u201cVarosha was always a bargaining chip,\u201d she said. \u201cBut there are no more negotiations, so we thought, what can we do with it?\u201d She pointed to the property commission as a solution. But compensating Greek Cypriot owners is no small task, with some estimates<\/a> \u20ac20 billion – a sum that would be financially and politically difficult to shoulder, even for Turkey. \u201cGradually, we expect the area to develop and contribute to our economy and to the Greek Cypriots as well. They have a chance to come and live here,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n