The sorrow of divided nations is in the air. Rwanda and South Africa, Bosnia and Palestine have taken up permanent residence in newspaper headlines and on the television newscasts. Violence and strife between ethnic and racial groups seem staples of the post-Cold War world. With the world's attention fixed on the Balkans, hardly anyone remembers that the island of Cyprus, a country near Bosnia, has been living with the harsh realities of division and conflict for over 20 years. With a view to remedying this situation, Harvard is hosting a conference this weekend entitled "Cyprus and Its People: New Interdisciplinary Perspectives."

"Our Wall," a documentary directed by Panikkos Chrysanthou, a Greek Cypriot, and Niyazi Kizilyurek, a Turkish Cypriot, serves as a centerpiece for the conference. The title of the documentary, which was itself partly funded by a German television network, alludes to the most famous wall of the late 20th century. The title recognizes that the situation in Cyprus, although bearing many similarities to the one that previously existed in Germany, is unique.

As the film opens, Chrysanthou travels to the U.N. controlled buffer zone lying along the so-called Green Line which divides Cyprus into Greek and Turkish sectors Chrysanthou a film-maker and intellectual, is going to meet Kizilyurek, a boyhood friend who is now an editor of Turkish Cypriot literature and a political scientist associated with the University of Bremen. During his meeting with Chrysanthou Kizilyurek relates the difficulties that he encountered when customs officials discovered he carried three passports. The anecdote is a great symbol for the problematic nature of Cypriot identity.

Chrysanthou and Kizilyurek are excellent company, and it's a pleasure to hear two such intelligent and articulate individuals discussing the phenomenon of exile and divided identities. One is reminded of Latin American intellectuals during the 1960s and 1970s. However, the film's conceit--two boyhood friends reuniting to explore their bisected country--is a tad pat. Chrysanthou and Kizilyurek's devotion to the structured format of their meeting, and the intellectualizing of the issues presented detract from the emotional immediacy of the film.

"Our Wall" is at its best when it focuses on the stories and experiences of the everyday people of Cyprus. The film first introduces Hassan, a Turkish shepherd married to Habou, a Greek woman. Hassan bears witness to the harshness of a shepherd's existence, a life lived without modern conveniences, which he blames on the partition of Cyprus. Because he was married to a Greek, he underwent all manner of difficulties and dangers, including the time when he was threatened with prison because his wife's Greek relatives visited his house. There were several occasions when he almost had to choose between his wife and politics.

Hassan is a magnificent, flinty raconteur. He says things that would never be considered politically correct and are sometimes difficult to swallow, but he is fiercely unapologetic. He speaks with a forthrightness and integrity that not even flourishes of rhetoric can disguise. He is also marvelously entertaining and has a way with maxims that would put La Rochefoucauld to shame. One priceless example: "Love sits on a dungheap, and woe to him that slips."

Interspersed with the interviews are clips of newsreels that provide the historical background for the current situation. One sees the period when Cyprus was a British colony, followed by an announcement from Queen Elizabeth II proclaiming Cyprus' independence. One sees the struggle between Enosis, the movement for union with Greece, and Taksin, the Turkish proposal for partition. Finally, there is the occupation by Turkish troops and the UN-regulated division of the island.

The film shifts gears with the introduction of Neshe Yasin, a Turkish woman poet who delivers a poignant Proustian reverie on a village from her childhood called Peristerona. Yasin's recherche du temps perduis the most explicit instance of the film's obsession with the question of memory. All the film's participants are intent on memory, remembering what was lost and the crimes committed by both sides. The film implies that the future of Cyprus depends in part on whether people can move beyond the memory of crimes, injustices and mutual recriminations.

Yasin conducts interviews with Turkish and Greek women. This section of the film is the most wrenching. The encounters with Hassan and Kizilyurek's charming aunt leave one unprepared for the intensity and impact of the interviews in this section. Particularly harrowing is a Greek woman's description of abuse by Turkish soldiers. She describes women being raped, and men killed. The memories are so vivid and so traumatic that she breaks down and tells the camera that she cannot continue. The camera pans to Yasin who is herself overcome and crying against the wall. This lacerating moment indicts cruelty and torture regardless of who committed it.

Finally, the film turns to Charalambos Demosthenous, a flute-maker and priest. He relates how his son was killed during the Turkish invasion. As a memorial to him, Demosthenous planted a palm tree at the edge of the ocean. The film shows Demosthenous performing his paternal duty by watering the tree, and Chrysanthou and Kizilyurek make their own pilgrimage there, buckets of water in hand.

The image of the palm tree is the most significant one in "Our Wall," for it represents the message of the film. The young palm tree stands like a promise in a barren, isolated, dusty strip of land. Chrysanthou and Kizilyurek don't press the point, but it is clear that the palm tree represents the future of Cyprus as they would like to see it: acknowledging the memory of the past, but looking towards the future, watered by both Greeks and Turks, and someday bearing fruit.

Chrysanthou and Kizilyurek have made an immensely affecting, courageous and visionary film, one which will surely stir up controversy. Their point of view is sorely needed if the situation in Cyprus is ever to be resolved.