Holguín’s and Our Real Test: The Fear of a Cyprus Settlement
It is becoming increasingly clear that the greatest obstacle facing the diplomatic initiative led by the UN Secretary-General’s Personal Envoy is not constitutional models, security arrangements or territorial issues. The real challenge lies in the fear of a settlement that has taken root on both sides of the island over the years, the threat perceptions that accompany it, and the political reflexes that have gradually grown around them like poisonous ivy. If that ivy once again wraps itself around the negotiating table, the casualty will not simply be another United Nations initiative. It will be Cyprus’ future.
Yusuf Kanlı
For years, perhaps we have been asking the wrong question about Cyprus. We continue debating whether the greatest obstacle to a settlement is political equality, guarantees, security arrangements, territory or property. Yet the developments surrounding the diplomatic effort undertaken in recent weeks by the UN Secretary-General’s Personal Envoy for Cyprus, María Ángela Holguín Cuéllar, have reminded me of a very different reality. It increasingly appears that behind all these familiar issues lies a much more fundamental obstacle: the fear of the very possibility of a settlement. Most of the public debate in recent days has centred not on proposals actually placed on the table, but on drafts that have not been written and formulas that have never been discussed. In other words, people have been reacting not to realities, but to possibilities.
No sooner had reports emerged claiming that Holguín had been discussing “looser settlement options” with the parties than a series of carefully managed diplomatic contacts turned within hours into a bitter political controversy. Before anyone even knew whether such a proposal actually existed, accusations began flying in every direction. Long before any formal negotiations had begun, people were already debating which concessions had supposedly been made and which red lines had allegedly been crossed. Diplomacy gave way to speculation, analysis yielded to prejudice, and calm judgement was replaced by emotional reflexes. To me, these developments reveal less about how Holguín works than about how the very prospect of a settlement is perceived in Cyprus.
Perhaps the most concise assessment of the entire controversy came from a senior diplomat who has followed the process closely. “This debate actually demonstrates that both sides are afraid of a possible settlement,” the diplomat observed. “That fear prevents many political actors from seeing the bigger picture.” Looking back at the past few days, it is indeed striking that much of the political class reacted to a document that does not exist and to negotiations that have not yet begun. What has been debated has not been facts, but possibilities. And the reactions have been driven far more by fear than by information.
Holguín’s task is not to produce a settlement but to determine whether one is possible
A serious misconception has emerged in recent months regarding Holguín’s mandate. Contrary to widespread assumptions, she is not drafting a new peace plan to be imposed on the parties, nor is she developing constitutional formulas. Diplomats familiar with the process describe a very different mission. Holguín is preparing a strategic assessment for Secretary-General António Guterres, seeking the answer to one central question: does a political climate still exist in which meaningful negotiations on Cyprus can be relaunched? Her task, therefore, is not to negotiate a settlement but to determine whether negotiations themselves remain politically feasible.
Against that background, Holguín’s unscheduled trip to New York should never have been viewed as a routine change of programme. Her meeting with Secretary-General António Guterres on Friday evening marked an important stage in the ongoing assessment of the Cyprus file. The substance of their discussions remains unknown, but the timing alone is significant. It took place immediately before the Secretary-General finalises his Good Offices and UNFICYP reports to the Security Council, due on July 6. It also formed an important part of the broader evaluation that will determine how much political capital the United Nations is prepared to invest in Cyprus during the remainder of the Secretary-General’s term.
As one experienced diplomat put it, “The real question is whether the Secretary-General wishes to spend the final six months of his mandate investing political capital in a file operating in such a fragile political atmosphere.” That observation should not be underestimated. Every Secretary-General must decide where to devote his limited political resources. Yet the timing of the meeting with Holguín reinforces the impression that the United Nations is not preparing to disengage from Cyprus, but may instead be preparing to enter a new diplomatic phase.
Should the Secretary-General conclude, on the basis of Holguín’s assessment, that sufficient political ground exists among the two sides on the island and the three guarantor powers — Türkiye, Greece and the United Kingdom — it is conceivable that he could eventually place before the parties, strictly for discussion rather than adoption, a strategic framework document. Such a document would not resemble another Annan Plan or constitute a ready-made settlement blueprint. Instead, it could outline the broad principles, parameters and institutional architecture of a possible settlement as a basis for negotiations. Such an initiative, however, would depend entirely on the political consent of the parties. Without the agreement of both communities and all three guarantor powers, the United Nations could neither politically nor legally advance any settlement model.
The thinking currently circulating in diplomatic circles — and which has no official status whatsoever — points towards a sui generis state structure that falls outside the traditional categories of constitutional design. The model under discussion would be neither a unitary state, nor a conventional federation, nor a classic confederation. Rather, it envisages a three-layered system in which Cyprus would retain a single international legal personality and a single international representation, while internally two constituent entities would exercise extensive functional authority, with the central institutions responsible only for matters of common interest. Under a single international citizenship, two constituent identities of equal legitimacy would coexist, while central decisions would require institutional mechanisms ensuring the effective participation of both communities.
What is particularly noteworthy is not only the constitutional architecture being discussed but also the negotiating methodology that appears to accompany it. One of the cornerstones of the new approach advocated by Tufan Erhürman — namely, the principle of “no return to the status quo” — seems to be reflected throughout the diplomatic thinking now taking shape. Under this logic, if negotiations were once again to fail, the process would not simply revert to the familiar pattern in which the Turkish Cypriot side alone bears the political and economic consequences while the Greek Cypriot administration preserves its existing international position without cost. In other words, the consequences of non-settlement would be redefined alongside the settlement process itself. None of these ideas constitutes an official negotiating text today. They remain diplomatic concepts that could only enter formal discussion should the necessary political will emerge.
When Fear Overtakes Reality
One of diplomacy’s most important instruments is exploratory engagement. The purpose of such contacts is not to reach an agreement but to test the parties’ limits, sensitivities and political reflexes. As one senior diplomat put it, “From a strategic point of view, it is always better to know how people are likely to react before anything actually happens.” A good mediator first tests the ground before deciding which issues can realistically move forward and which are likely to derail the process at the very outset. In Cyprus, however, exploratory diplomacy all too often becomes domestic political ammunition within days. Possibilities are presented as facts, assumptions become accepted truths, and the process is poisoned before it has even begun.
What struck me most over the past week was not the leak itself. Diplomatic leaks have always existed and always will. What was remarkable was how politicians and commentators on both sides began fighting over hypothetical scenarios before any genuine negotiating text even existed. On the Turkish Cypriot side and in Ankara, many immediately feared that political equality, security arrangements or sovereign rights were quietly being negotiated away. On the Greek Cypriot side, fears spread just as rapidly that unacceptable constitutional concessions were being prepared. Yet there was no actual document. Both sides were reacting to precisely the same thing: fear.
That, in many ways, illustrates the enduring paradox of the Cyprus negotiations. Time and again, the parties position themselves not against proposals actually placed on the table, but against proposals they imagine the other side might one day make. Political defence lines are established before negotiations begin. Drafts that have never been written are rejected before they exist. The possibility of compromise encounters psychological resistance long before constitutional disagreements emerge. The problem is therefore not simply a lack of trust. It is the fear that even the prospect of a settlement could fundamentally alter the political balance to which each side has become accustomed.
That is also why the deliberately circulated narrative that “Holguín is talking to everyone” deserves closer attention. Diplomats familiar with the process insist that this characterisation is inaccurate. On the contrary, they argue that it has been intentionally promoted in an effort to undermine confidence in the envoy’s work before it reaches its next stage. In today’s Cyprus, misinformation is no longer merely a propaganda tool. It has become an independent political actor capable of influencing the course of negotiations almost as much as the negotiators themselves.
Cyprus’ Poisonous Ivy
Having covered the Cyprus negotiations for almost half a century, I have watched countless initiatives begin with hope, gather international support and ultimately end in disappointment. Every period had its visible obstacles. Constitutional arrangements, political equality, guarantees, security, territory and property have never been easy issues. Yet over the years I have increasingly come to believe that another obstacle quietly grows around every diplomatic effort. I call it Cyprus’ poisonous ivy.
At first glance, the ivy appears harmless. It begins with carefully selected leaks and anonymous diplomatic briefings. It grows stronger through political statements designed to reinforce public anxieties. It spreads further through headlines crafted to trigger emotional reactions rather than informed debate. Before long, politicians become afraid not merely of making concessions but even of appearing willing to negotiate. Discussing compromise itself becomes politically dangerous. Before the negotiating table is even assembled, political courage begins to erode, trust weakens and diplomatic initiatives suffocate beneath the weight of fears that have little to do with the substance of any future agreement.
That, in my view, is the greatest challenge confronting Holguín today. Her principal task is not to devise constitutional formulas. Constitutional engineering only becomes meaningful once political leaders decide they genuinely wish to negotiate. The real challenge is whether the parties can arrive at the table without allowing fear to dictate every political calculation. If the very possibility of a settlement continues to be treated as a political threat before negotiations even begin, then no constitutional model — however innovative or carefully balanced — is likely to succeed.
Yet the picture is not entirely bleak. Neither Ankara nor the Turkish Cypriot leadership appears to have abandoned the process. Türkiye has reaffirmed its core principles of sovereign equality, equal international status and security guarantees while deliberately avoiding language that would shut the diplomatic door. Tufan Erhürman has likewise chosen political restraint over polemics, stressing that no process can move forward without full coordination with Türkiye and the explicit consent of the Turkish Cypriot side, while also making clear that dialogue should never be mistaken for concession. In the midst of recent political turbulence, that may have been one of the most encouraging developments.
Attention is now shifting well beyond New York. The European Union’s anticipated decisions regarding both the Turkish Cypriot community and its broader relationship with Türkiye will be closely watched in Brussels, while the NATO Summit in Ankara on July 7-8 may provide another important political opportunity through meetings among regional and European leaders. If these parallel diplomatic tracks begin reinforcing one another, the current phase of exploratory contacts could gradually give way to a far more structured, purposeful and politically ambitious process.
Holguín’s Test Is Our Test
The NATO Summit in Ankara, the Secretary-General’s reports to the Security Council and Holguín’s next round of diplomacy will undoubtedly represent important milestones. Yet none of them alone will determine Cyprus’ future. The central question is no longer whether another constitutional formula can be devised. The real question is whether the parties possess the political courage to discover where serious negotiations might actually lead.
Perhaps Holguín’s most significant contribution so far has not been the production of any new constitutional concept, but the fact that her efforts have exposed the real psychological barrier standing in front of the Cyprus problem. The debates of recent weeks have demonstrated once again that before constitutions can be negotiated, trust, political courage and strategic vision must first be restored.
That is why the real test today is not Holguín’s alone. It is the test of both communities on the island, of the guarantor powers, of the United Nations, of the European Union and, ultimately, of everyone who claims to care about Cyprus’ future. If the poisonous ivy of fear is once again allowed to wrap itself around the negotiating table before meaningful talks even begin, the losers will not be António Guterres or María Ángela Holguín. The loser will once again be Cyprus itself, as both communities may watch yet another rare opportunity to shape a different future quietly slip away through fear rather than through informed political choice.
