Breaking the Deadlock.(diplomacy in Cyprus)

For three decades the infamous green line has divided Cyprus, a strange little slice of the cold war transplanted to the sleepy Mediterranean. Sentries slouch drowsily over their machine guns, amid sandbags and barbed wire. Greeks and Turks on either side live as separately as East and West Berliners once did, their mutual suspicion running deep and seemingly unbridgeable. Yet soon all that may crumble into the dustbin of history, leaving Cypriots blinking in the sunshine and wondering what the fuss was about. The instigators: two men who have known each other for more than half a century--the past 30 as implacable political adversaries. Last week the president of the Republic of Cyprus, Glafcos Clerides, 82, and Turkish Cypriot leader Rauf Denktash, 77, sat down at a U.N. mansion on the Green Line. Their mission: to break the two- generation-old deadlock and reunify their island homeland.

No one pretends it's going to be easy. Dozens of talks have been held since the island's division in 1974, none leading anywhere. But this time may be different. As the island prepares for membership in the European Union, both sides know they have a lot to lose. Like a playground fight that threatens to get both squabblers banned from lunch, the Cypriots realize it's time to make up. As Denktash put it, heading into the talks: "This is going to be our last tango."

And a complicated dance it is. After years of careful diplomacy in Brussels, Greece has persuaded the EU to accept the ethnic-Greek Republic of Cyprus as a new member, with or without the Turkish third of the island. In fact, Cyprus tops the list of candidates for accession in 2004; final negotiations begin this fall. If the ethnic- Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, recognized only by Turkey, fails to rejoin the republic, the Greeks say they'll go ahead and join the EU anyway--leaving the Turks out in the cold. Eurocrats hate that prospect but have little choice. The EU is hell bent on enlargement to the East, and Athens threatens to veto the whole show without the inclusion of Cyprus.

That puts the pressure on Turkey, northern Cyprus's de facto sponsor and sole ally. Ankara aims for admission to Europe, as well, albeit on a later schedule. And irony of ironies, little Cyprus will be able to keep it from doing so, once the republic itself becomes a member. (When it comes to the club of Europe, unanimity still rules on matters of admission.) Turkey thus finds itself on the spot. If mainland Turks don't put the screws on their island brethren to do a deal on reunification, they themselves will pay a heavy price.

All this explains why diplomats have never been more optimistic. But there's more: the mood among Cypriots has changed as well. U.N. Special Envoy Alvaro de Soto calls it "a new wind that is blowing"--a growing realization by ordinary people on both sides that it's time to put old grievances behind them. A day before the meeting, hundreds of Turkish Cypriots marched in Nicosia, holding candles and singing (get this) Greek folk songs. "Denktash, sign or resign," they chanted. On the other side of town, several hundred Greek Cypriots also marched and chanted, "Forward to a united country." "We no longer have the luxury of not talking," says Umit Suleyman Onan, a former Turkish Cypriot negotiator. "The world has changed. We have to reach an agreement and live on this island in tranquillity."

Doing so will take a major adjustment of attitudes. To outsiders, the Cyprus ...