
Newsroom
For the first time ever, arrest warrants issued by the Republic of Cyprus over the sale and development of Greek Cypriot properties in the Turkish-occupied north are targeting Turkish nationals. The move has stirred serious concern among investors and developers involved in one of the north’s largest real estate projects.
The focus of the controversy is the EDEN project in occupied Lefkonoiko - a £50 million luxury development that now hangs in the balance.
Olsan Oral, a Turkish architect and shareholder in the EDEN development, told Turkish Cypriot media that the project team was alarmed by news of the warrants. "We’re worried. This is a massive investment. There were promises made to us, and now we’re waiting for the authorities to act," he said.
Although neither Oral nor his business partners have yet received formal notification, the implications are already rippling through the breakaway north’s economy. The EDEN project, he said, was meant to be a cornerstone of economic revival in Lefkonoiko — a largely rural area. “We’re ready to pour concrete tomorrow,” he said. “All the permits are in place, including the environmental ones. We’re moving ahead.”
But with international law clearly on the side of the Republic of Cyprus, the crackdown is raising fears among developers, real estate agents, and buyers who may now find themselves on legal watchlists.
The mayor of Lefkonoiko recently confirmed that the arrest warrants are linked to the EDEN project. And that has rattled not just developers but also the Turkish Cypriot authorities, who fear a chilling effect on foreign investment.
This isn’t just a legal issue, it’s deeply political. By issuing arrest warrants for Turkish nationals for the first time, Cyprus is signaling a hardening stance against the exploitation of Greek Cypriot-owned land left behind after the 1974 Turkish invasion.
Turkish Cypriot journalist Ali Baturai, writing in Halkin Sesi, warned that this was the inevitable outcome of policies based on denial and wishful thinking. “We were lied to that the properties are ours. Now, we’re facing the consequences,” he wrote.
Baturai pointed to a long-standing reliance on legal grey zones and ‘equal value’ property arrangements, a scheme where displaced Turkish Cypriots were allocated abandoned Greek Cypriot properties in exchange for giving up their pre-1974 homes in the south. But international law never recognized those exchanges.
“Contractors, real estate agents, buyers and even ordinary citizens are now vulnerable,” he wrote. “We’ve created a bubble of illusion, and it’s bursting.”
The fallout may reach far beyond a single development. Some investors warn of broader economic damage if the legal pressure continues.
“This is a political war,” Oral said. “And if it continues, the economy of the TRNC will be badly hurt.”
Still, officials in the occupied north say they won’t back down. Hussein Sadeghi, of the Turkish Cypriot real estate association, said the so-called “property commission,” which was meant to resolve land disputes, needs more funding and power to protect investments. He even proposed a tourism tax to help support it.
“We need to stay calm,” he said. “Our legal system and property rights are guaranteed by our state.”
But that’s exactly the issue. As Baturai notes, the breakaway state is not recognized internationally. So when legal pressure comes from outside, such as from the Republic of Cyprus or international courts, there’s little protection for those caught in the middle.
With developers pressing ahead and Nicosia issuing more arrest warrants, the clash between legality and political reality is intensifying.
The Christodoulides government, Baturai wrote, may not be blameless, but it’s playing its legal cards wisely. “Who handed them these tools? It was the mistakes and illusions of our own side.”