The time for courage is now: a vision for Cyprus beyond division

By Professor Kerim Munir

As a graduate of The English School, Nicosia, celebrating its 125th anniversary this year, I reflect with deep gratitude on the values this institution instilled in me – most of all, its motto: Non sibi sed scholae – “Not for oneself, but for the school.” 

In our case, the school stood for something far larger than academics. It stood for unity, understanding, and the belief that Cypriots – Greek and Turkish alike – could learn to live together in mutual respect.

Today, as a professor at Harvard University working in global health and child development, I have spent much of my life trying to build bridges across divides. But few bridges feel more personal – or more urgently needed – than the one Cyprus has yet to complete.

Following my graduation, as a young medical student in London, I wrote a letter to the editor of the Cyprus Mail criticising the island’s stalled negotiations. I likened the obstructionists to “aberrant pacemakers”, disrupting the heart of Cyprus and denying it a healthy rhythm of peace.

More than five decades later, the same dysfunction persists. However, the path forward – a bizonal, bicommunal federation (BBF) – remains not only possible but also essential.

Lord Caradon, then Hugh Foot, the last British governor of Cyprus, once observed: “There is a conceivable objection to every possible solution that has been proposed to resolve the Cyprus problem.” Indeed, objections are never in short supply – but what has always been in deficit is political courage. Courage to embrace compromise. Courage to resist maximalism. Courage to accept a peace that, while imperfect, is far better than division. As Anthony Robbins, an American motivational speaker, reminds us: “The only impossible journey is the one you never begin…. Stop being afraid of what could go wrong, and start being excited about what could go right.”

The BBF model – long endorsed by the United Nations and embedded in numerous convoluted negotiation rounds – still offers the most ethical path to rapprochement. It protects sovereignty, upholds international law, and ensures political equality between Greek and Turkish Cypriots alike. It envisions a shared state, not a surrendered one.

As Glafcos Clerides once put it: “The Cyprus problem will not be solved by slogans or intransigence, but by wisdom, vision, and courage.” And Rauf Denktash, another graduate of the English School, in an expression of shared humanity, agreed:“We have known each other too long to let our peoples suffer any longer.”

The English School was founded in 1900 to serve all communities in Cyprus. According to the school’s official narrative, Turkish Cypriot students returned in 2003 – following the events of 1974 – after a 29-year hiatus. However, this was not the first hiatus, nor the first return. In reality, shared institutions, including The English School, were disrupted much earlier, in 1964, following the outbreak of intercommunal violence.

The first reentry of Turkish Cypriot students occurred in 1969. I know this firsthand, because I was one of them. That year, I was one of two Lower Sixth Form Turkish Cypriot students to rejoin the school after the rupture of 1964. Our return was not without risk. In many ways, we were a sociological experiment – crossing what had become a psychological and physical divide, stepping into an educational space few dared to enter at the time. Yet we returned with conviction, because we believed in the school’s enduring promise of excellence.

We were fortunate to find guidance and moral clarity in the school’s then-headmaster, David Humphreys – himself a former student of Bertrand Russell at Cambridge. I recall vividly how, during a student assembly, he referred to Russell’s passing with reverence on February 2, 1970. Humphreys’ quiet yet unwavering commitment to intercommunal education was instrumental in reigniting the school’s inclusive mission. Sports – and the heroes who embodied its ideals – served as a powerful unifier. I remember how, on March 8, 1970, the entire school paused as we processed the news of Muhammad Ali’s defeat to Joe Frazier in what was billed as the “Fight of the Century”. I mourned the loss with my Greek Cypriot friend and fellow admirer of Ali – our shared disappointment a poignant reminder that greatness transcends division.

The incoming First Form class, including Ersin Tatar, the current Turkish Cypriot leader, arrived at the school in 1970. I recall how the young cohort of students looked to us for orientation and encouragement in those early days. It would not have been possible had we not broken through the psychological barrier. We all walked in the footsteps of earlier Turkish Cypriot alumni, such as Rauf Denktash, further emphasising the school’s historical inclusivity before 1964.

The official history of The English School does not reflect these facts. It was 1969 – not 2003 – when Turkish Cypriot reintegration began. And if that courage was possible then, amid division and fear, it must surely be possible now. This story is a symbol of hope – and a reminder that it is small steps that can change the course of history.

The European Union must adopt a role as a bridge rather than a bystander.The EU, whose symbols are proudly visible throughout the Republic of Cyprus, must assume a balanced and courageous role. Its decision to grant membership to Cyprus in 2004, despite the failure of reunification following the rejection of the Annan Plan, created an asymmetry that has undermined Turkish Cypriot trust.

In his disappointment, the former UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan, who worked tirelessly for a solution in Cyprus, said:“Peace is never perfect. But peace is always better than division, occupation, or war.”His words are no less urgent today. Time does not heal frozen conflicts – it only reinforces them. Yet even now, there is a path forward – if we can find the courage to take it.

The EU needs to restore balance and credibility. It possesses the resources, moral authority and institutional capacity to transform the debate into a genuine opportunity for reconciliation. It needs to stop protecting the status quo, delegating it to the United Nations, and start enabling the future.

The solution lies not only on the burning question of political equality but also in innovatively redefining the Turkish military presence on the island in a manner that is acceptable, embedded in a multilateral agreement, and tied to the BBF’s constitutional safeguards. A total troop withdrawal is not politically realistic, nor is it just for the Turkish Cypriots; likewise, retaining the current military structure without significant adjustments will not be acceptable to the Greek Cypriots. This is a core, unresolved security dilemma, and one issue that neither side will concede.

Yet, concessions on the security package stand to be the key investments in peace and resolvable, if there is political will on both sides. So, the obvious nagging question: is there political will on both sides? For a multilateral BBF reconciliation, Turkey, Greece and the UK will need to remain as historical guarantors, with the EU serving as the arbiter of rights and law, and the UN as a monitor and provider of legitimacy.

If the leaders of Cyprus were to succeed in implementing a peaceful, federated solution, it would not only resolve one of the world’s longest-running conflicts but would send a resounding message that diplomacy and reason can triumph over cynicism and fear. It would be a breath of fresh air in a world gasping for war and division. Such a moment would be worthy of international recognition – perhaps even a Nobel Peace Prize. But more than that, it would be worthy of the Cypriot people, who for too long have been deprived of their shared destiny.

As I write these words today, I carry no illusion that finding a solution to the Cyprus question will be easy. It was not easy then, and it will not be easy now. However, difficulty must never deter us from doing what is right; inspired leadership remains paramount. That is why I return to the enduring words of President John F. Kennedy, delivered at Rice University in Houston, Texas, in his “Moonshot” speech in 1962 (a quote prominently displayed in our Physics classroom wall): “We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organise and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win.”

To the youth of Cyprus, Greek and Turkish alike: do not inherit this stalemate without questioning it. If we could walk the same hallways at The English School in 1969 (incidentally, also the year the US astronauts landed on the moon), there is no reason we cannot build a country together in 2025 and beyond.

Let Cyprus rise to such a challenge – not just for itself, but for the message it will send the world: that even in an age of conflict and polarisation, unity through courage remains possible.

Non sibi sed scholae—not for oneself, but for the school.
Non sibi sed omnibus—not for oneself, but for all.

Let this be Cyprus’ legacy.

By Professor Kerim M Munir, Harvard Medical School, Boston, Massachusetts; Former graduate of The English School, Nicosia. This piece is offered as both a personal reflection and a civic appeal