The end of freedom in Northern Cyprus? What will happen to the wild donkeys in the Karpaz?

Opening sequence: They stand in the middle of the road, curiously poking their heads through car windows, and for many visitors, they are as much a part of the Karpaz Peninsula as Golden Beach and the Monastery of Apostolos Andreas. Now, the wild donkeys of Northern Cyprus are to be captured and moved to controlled protected areas. What initially sounds like the end of a Cypriot idyll is, in reality, an attempt to protect the Karpaz donkeys, the natural environment, and the people of the region from the consequences of a situation that has remained unresolved for decades.

As we drive along the long road to the top of the Karpaz Mountains, we always encounter them before reaching the northeasternmost point of Cyprus and seeing the blue, rocking sea once more. A dark donkey waits by the roadside, a second immediately steps onto the asphalt. Sometimes there are small donkeys as well. We drive slowly, stop, tentatively open a window, and offer one of the carrots we bought in Dipkarpaz as a toll. It's one of those little scenes that visitors and travelers later like to recount when describing their experiences in Northern Cyprus.

But behind this almost fairytale-like image lies a growing problem. At the beginning of July, authorities in northern Cyprus began rounding up free-roaming Karpaz donkeys outside designated areas. The animals are to be taken to prepared facilities, examined by a veterinarian, treated if necessary, and microchipped. They will then live in fenced, controlled areas. Male animals will be sterilized to limit reproduction and reduce aggressive behavior.

Contrary to some headlines, this does not mark the end of the Karpaz donkey. However, it could be the end of its largely uncontrolled life on roads, fields, and in sensitive natural areas.

From workhorse to landmark

The Karpaz donkeys are not strictly speaking wild animals, even though they are often referred to as such. They are feral descendants of domesticated working animals. For many generations, donkeys in Cyprus carried grain, olives, and carob, pulled loads, and were an almost indispensable part of daily life for farming families. With the advent of tractors and trucks in the 1960s and 70s, they lost their economic role. Some animals remained behind after the island's division in 1974 or were later reunited in the remote village of Karpaz. Over the years, this unique concept has become an attraction alongside Golden Beach.

From former domestic animals emerged a free-roaming population, and from it, one of the most iconic images of Northern Cyprus. The donkeys became photographic subjects, unofficial tour guides, and a kind of living memory of the island. Those who know their story see them as more than just a pretty holiday photo: they tell of agriculture and modernization, but also of flight, separation, and lives left behind in a hectic, wistful, even angry way.

That's precisely why this new measure affects us so deeply when we talk to people about it. A fenced-in Karpaz donkey doesn't quite fit the image of Cyprus's last untamed landscape. But freedom alone is not animal welfare, and it's at this point that the real balancing act begins.

When the postcard idyll becomes dangerous

On the Karpaz Peninsula, the animals search for food and water, encroaching on agricultural land and damaging crops. According to officials, they also harm endemic plants and watering holes used by migratory birds. Dangerous encounters and accidents occur repeatedly on the roads, especially at night when the unlit animals are difficult to spot. Northern Cyprus has seen an increase in visitors due to the economic boom, leading to more conflicts – therefore, new solutions must be developed.

Unfortunately, as is so often the case, the donkeys themselves are paying the price. Injured animals are not always found and cared for in time. In February, for example, a donkey died from gunshot wounds after necessary help was delayed. Before and after this incident, reports of animals being killed caused outrage. At the same time, some voices from affected villages even called for the population to be eradicated. The conflict has thus long since become more than a tourist footnote: farmers fear for their harvests, animal rights activists for the lives of the donkeys, and conservationists for a fragile landscape. There is too much fighting – too little space for plants, donkeys, and harvests.

Added to this is a behavior that, while well-intentioned, can nevertheless exacerbate the problem: feeding the donkeys at the roadside, precisely the scene we described at the beginning. Where cars regularly mean carrots, bread, or other food, the animals learn to wait on the road and actively approach vehicles. This increases the risk of accidents, alters their natural foraging behavior, and can make them dependent on humans. What is a pleasant moment for us as visitors can become a dangerous habit for the donkeys. Unfortunately, it's well-intentioned but poorly executed. It's the same old story when humans encounter animals and, in doing so, change the course of their lives.

A plan designed to protect three sides

The current initiative didn't come out of nowhere. Back in 2023, the Ministry of the Environment in the north, the municipality of Yenierenköy-Dipkarpaz, and Taşkent Doğa Park signed an agreement for what is now known as the Karpaz Donkey Management project. An eleven-member scientific panel with representatives from government agencies, veterinary services, universities, and civil society was to oversee the project. After delays in funding and preparation, the program has now entered its practical phase.

His approach is fundamentally understandable. Animals are not killed, but rather registered and given medical care; the population is to be stabilized slowly without violent intervention, while simultaneously relieving pressure on agriculture, traffic, and sensitive habitats. Whether this will truly become a humane and sustainable solution, however, will only be determined in practice, not on paper.

For this to work, the designated areas must be large enough and offer shade, water, food, and places to retreat. The program must not fail after a few months due to lack of funds. Sterilizations require proper anesthesia, aftercare, and documentation. And transparent figures are needed: How many animals were admitted, how many were treated or sterilized, what is the mortality rate, and what are the actual effects of the measure on vegetation, agriculture, and traffic?

The sheer number of Karpaz donkeys illustrates the vast gap in our knowledge. A 2003 field study estimated the population at approximately 800 to 900 animals across 132 square kilometers. A Reuters report in 2017 cited an expert estimate of around 2,000. Other, considerably more recent tourist sources report significantly smaller numbers. The current management program report does not include a new, comprehensive census.

Will Karpaz still be Karpaz?

We fully understand the concern that with the wild donkeys of Northern Cyprus, a part of the soul of the Karpaz Peninsula could also disappear. For us, the crucial question is whether and where these lovable animals should be allowed to roam freely. The decisive factor is whether it is possible to provide them with a good life without pitting other animals, rare plants, and the people of the region against each other.

Well-managed, spacious reserves could still offer opportunities for encounters, but in a safer and more responsible way. You could still observe the animals and learn their stories without luring them to roads. Veterinary checks would detect suffering earlier. Revenue from responsible wildlife tourism could be reinvested in the care, feeding, and protection of the landscape.

If poorly implemented, however, a different outcome is likely: small, overcrowded enclosures, high running costs, lack of control, and the loss of a defining landscape feature. The fence itself is therefore neither the solution nor the problem. What matters is what happens inside and outside that fence.

The Karpaz donkeys are not merely decorative elements of a holiday landscape for us. They are living beings and, at the same time, a piece of Cypriot cultural history. It was fascinating to experience how unregulated a country can be. Until now, no one seemed to mind, and everyone knew how to fulfill their responsibilities: young people on their way to their meeting place by the sea at sunset, the hunters, and even the then smaller number of tourists. But times are changing, and now new solutions are needed for the wild donkeys of Northern Cyprus. Their fate shows how quickly a symbol can turn into a conflict when the population grows and responsibility is postponed for too long.

We love the donkeys of Karpaz

The situation is different now, and we will all have to live with it. The wild, carefree years are likely over for the donkeys and for the visitor experience. There will be more order, more documentation, and less of a "let's just take it easy" attitude. So, if you still want to experience the wild donkeys of Karpaz, make the most of the time you have left. But please be sensitive to the animals, the beautiful nature, and this unique moment.

All love

Samira & Marten

Sources

Cyprus Mail, July 3, 2026: End of the road for the wild, free-roaming Karpasia donkey.

Agreement on Karpaz donkey management, August 2023: Environmental Administration, Municipality of Yenierenköy–Dipkarpaz and Taşkent Doğa Park; reports, among others, on Zirve Kıbrıs.

Euronews/Reuters, August 22, 2017: Meet the donkeys in Cyprus orphaned by war.

Visit North Cyprus: Background on the agricultural history and the two common types of Cyprus Donkey.

Scientific field study on the population dynamics of feral donkeys in the Karpaz, published in 2005 based on the survey from 2003.