When visiting in a foreign country, it’s helpful to be informed about the pervading points of view on modern-day political events, held by the people in the area we’re visiting. It’s also a good idea to practice tact and diplomacy, particularly when it comes to discussing current events and political beliefs. This is especially important when visiting Greece. In some cases, you’ll find that someone you meet has a deep-rooted opinion that you don’t share. In that situation, you have a few alternatives: you can listen, nod and say nothing, you can offer your own opinion, respectfully and civilly, or you can argue aggressively.  As timorous as it might seem to some, I usually choose the first option when I’m in a unknown place, talking with people with whom I’ve only just become acquainted.  The first reason for that is because I learn more that way.  And the second reason is, because it’s safer. 

We always need to ask ourselves when traveling abroad, if a token action taken without careful thought, will be seen as an inflammatory gesture on our part. A ‘token action’ can be anything from an offhand comment, an angry action or statement, local prohibitions we choose to disregard, or even something we decide to wear or not wear. I’m not at all suggesting that you shouldn’t “be yourself,” or that it is too dangerous to venture outside of one’s own country. I am saying, be “street-smart.”  Learn well the major customs, beliefs, and laws indigenous to the area in which you will be, and be deferential to them, whether you agree with them or not.  And if you still feel the need to make a social or political statement, be fully aware of what you might be getting into beforehand. Accordingly, if you ever do get the opportunity to journey to Greece, or have a conversation with a Hellene, here are a few things I learned about their national passions that I will pass on to you and hope they will be helpful: 

It is understandable that those of us who are not from the Balkans might know very little about the history of the region.  Obviously, however, to the people who live there, that history would be very important. Today the lands generally referred to as the Balkans include Greece, Albania, Bulgaria, Serbia, Croatia, FYROM, and others.  The acronym “FYROM” stands for, “Former Yugoslavian Republic of Macedonia.”

The Yugoslav Federation was headed by Marshal Josip Broz Tito. After his death from cancer in 1980, areas of the republic were regrouped and renamed. People in the Federation petitioned the United Nations to be known as “Macedonia,” but Greece took great exception to this. Their reason being that “Macedonia” was the name of a large region in the ancient ages, and that, according to Ted Laliotis, president of The Hellenic Federation of Northern California, the Macedonians that ruled this area were of Greek descent.  They spoke the Greek language and were not the ancestors of the people who occupy FYROM now.

“Today’s FYROM are an amalgamation of Slavs, Albanians and others, who have nothing to do with the Greek language and culture,” writes Mr. Laliotis on the Hellenic Federation website, www.hellenicfederation.org.

When I spoke with Mr. Laliotis on this subject, he explained that many Greeks feel it is “opportunistic” for the people in that region to want to use the name, “Macedonia” because “Macedonia” has so many significant historical and artistic associations. (Alexander the Great, for example, was from ancient Macedonia.) As a result, there has been an ongoing dispute over the name “Macedonia” vs. “FYROM,” for at least the past twenty years.

I remember back in 1993, when we still lived in New York, my son, who was five at the time, was marching with his schoolmates from his Greek-language class, in the Greek Independence Day Parade that takes place in Manhattan every March 25. The school children were told by their teachers that they should shout out as they marched, “Macedonia is Greek! Macedonia is Greek!”  Somehow, my son misunderstood his instructions.  He told us he was chanting, “Macedonia Ice Cream!”

That little anecdote aside, the name debate for the people in the Balkans is no laughing matter, but a genuine controversy ─ long, wide and deep.  The United Nations sided with Greece on the issue and  does not recognize the name “Macedonia” for  “FYROM,”  but in 2004, much to the dismay of many Greek-Americans, the United States government did recognize it. In Greece, the area is referred to as “FYROM,” or “Skopia.”  I won’t venture my opinion on this matter, just point out that’s it’s good thing to know when visiting Greece.

2. Turkey

Greece and Turkey have always had a problematic relationship, and that’s putting it mildly. Most of that has to do with territory issues and what a majority of European countries view as the United States’ overly lenient foreign policies towards Turkey’s human rights violations. 

Istanbul, the largest city in Turkey, was once called ‘Constantinople’ and was the capital of the Byzantium Empire.  The city was distinctly Greek in culture and became the center of Greek Orthodox Christianity after the earlier split with Rome. Many Greek churches were built there, including Saint Sofia, known in the region as “Ayia Sofia”, which was once the world’s largest cathedral.  Saint Sofia still exists in Istanbul and is now a museum. And  Istanbul still houses the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, leader of the Greek Orthodox Church, in the church of St. George in the Phanar (Fanari) area of Instabul.

Greeks will tell you that Saint Sofia has been misused and damaged deliberately  by the Turks and that their patriarch leads a very restricted life there, having to obtain a visa from the Turkish government every time he wishes to leave the country to make an appearance in Greece.  Nonetheless, Greece cannot bring itself to move the patriarch’s seat from Saint Sofia, because it is the original birthplace of the Greek Orthodox Church. This history of Saint Sofia being taken over by the Turkish government has been immortalized in Greek songs and dirges.

The other divide between Greece and Turkey was the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974, (which I wrote about in Harlot’s Sauce, ) and is a state of affairs which remains unsettled to this day. When I was married to my Greek husband and living in the United States, he forbade my purchasing anything that had been manufactured in Turkey. (Ikea department stores seem to be teeming with merchandise made in Turkey.) He believed that a number of goods made in Turkey were by the forced labor of political prisoners, many of whom are Greek and Cypriot, and that by buying these we would be sustaining the current prison. I have friends from Cyprus who don’t buy Turkish products for that same reason.

On the other hand, my American husband, an economics major, believes that this is not an effective way to protest civil liberties violations. He says that not purchasing goods from countries with bad human rights records will only serve to keep that country impoverished and downtrodden, hence keeping up the “status quo.” He’s also against any sort of embargoes or trade restraints, believing them to do more harm than good, particularly to the peoples at the lower end of the economic scale.

I honestly don’t know which point of view is correct, if either.  I do know that if you ever find yourself in an uncomfortable discussion about the name, “Macedonia,” while you’re in Greece and you want to get out of it, ask any question at all about Turkey and the conversation will be off and running in a different and far more heated direction.

Of course, if you visit Turkey, or speak to a Turk about these affairs, you’d most likely get a rather different perspective.

But in August of 1999, something happened that might have changed the relationship between the two countries for the better ─ Turkey had an earthquake ─ a whopper. The most powerful earthquake to have ever hit them, it measured 6.7 on the Richter scale, and struck the town of Izmit in the western part. Few of Izmit's buildings were built to withstand earthquakes, and buildings of entire districts collapsed like toothpick houses in the wind. Buildings were also destroyed in Istanbul, about 80 km (50 miles) northwest of Izmit, along with parts of the motorway between Ankara and Istanbul which buckled, causing cars to collide. Within two hours of the initial earthquake, there were 10 more powerful aftershocks causing more destruction and loss of life. The death toll as a result of the Izmit quake, eventually reached more than 17,000.

Turkey's prime minister, Bulent Ecevit, could only say, “May God help our country and its people.” Ecevit pleaded with the international community for aid, saying he would take help from wherever it came, and within hours, volunteers from Greece were on their way ─ university students, medical doctors, fire brigades. They helped the Turkish people and went back home, shaken and changed by the horrors they’d seen. Some of their Turkish neighbors were so desperate to find their loved ones, that not having even the most basic tools available, they clawed through the rubble with their bare hands.

The Greek news reported on the catastrophe nightly. The news programs in Greece are much less mindful of ‘delicate sensibilities,’ than they are here in the United States; the scenes they showed were graphic, ghastly and real.  Greeks remained intent on the images being shown on their  television screens, praying for the Turkish people, the same people with whom they had only narrowly averted war just three years before.

Only one month later, as though the gods specifically arranged the timing, Greece was hit with an earthquake, too, measuring 5.9 on the Richter. Joan and I were downstairs at Serafim Books, sorting out a book shipment when it happened.  She was across the room from me, and I was on the phone with Nick, who was explaining to me why he had been charged  8,500 drachmas to have his hair cut,  an exorbitant price for a child to pay for a haircut at that time in Greece.

Just as I exclaimed over the phone to him, “They charged you eight thousand-five hundred drachmas?!” the room shook, and the line went dead.

I looked over at Joan and asked, “What happened?” 

I took only a second more for it to register with her, but I had no idea, having never been in an earthquake before. 

Joan let out sort of a little ‘yelp’─ “Earthquake! My babies!” and dashed up the stairs and out of the shop.  (Of course, her “babies,” Alexi and Laura, were 12 and 15 years-old respectively, at the time. But, no matter how old they get, as they say in Joan’s neck of the woods, Newcastle, “your bains will always be your bains.”)

Where Joan and I were, in the suburb of Glyfada, south of the city, we felt no more than mild tremors from that earthquake. Some of us had dishes fall down from our cupboards, but nothing more serious.  Yet most people remained outdoors, expecting aftershocks, and we’d been advised not to be in the upper stories of buildings.  So our block of flats looked like it was having a residents’ picnic in the front garden. Everyone was outside, some even brought furniture, and being Greek, of course they brought food. 

But  the people in the center of the city and in the northern Athens suburbs were not so lucky. More than 100 buildings collapsed there, mostly in the poorer neighborhoods and immigrant areas.  A domestic utensil factory collapsed in that section, burying dozens of people. Rescuers worked through the night, trying to chip away at mountains of broken concrete slabs, hoping to find the scores of people trapped beneath the rubble, using dogs that sniffed for trapped survivors.  People who had escaped the damage feared their homes might still collapse, so they slept overnight in parks.
 
The one happy result of this earthquake was that the first international search crew to arrive in the Greek capital was a team of Turks. They wanted to return the help that Greece had provided after the Turkish earthquake just the previous month. The Turks praised Greece for their quick and extensive help after that quake and said, “Now it’s our turn."

How lovely if it could be true that in the aftermath of both earthquakes there would be the beginnings of a Greek -Turkish solidarity.  And in fact, when having a discussion with one Hellene about the Turks, he’d told me, “It’s not people we don’t like, it’s their government.”

Turkish government has been held internationally responsible for the slaughter of Kurdish people and the oppression of other minorities in their country. (The slaughter of Kurdish people is also one of the crimes of which Saddam Hussein is accused.) To this day, Turkey vehemently denies it.  The government of Greece condemns these acts, but despite this condemnation, six months prior to the Athens earthquake, Abdullah Öcalan, was reported to have been abducted by Turkish authorities, while he was under the safeguard of the Greek government. (This is also mentioned in Harlot’s Sauce)

 Öcalan was the leader of the PKK Workers' Party of Kurdistan, whose efforts against the discrimination and genocide of the Kurdish peoples in Turkey had been championed by the Greek people. He, knowing the history between Greece and Turkey and the Greek stance on human rights, had asked Greece for asylum.

Some news accounts say that Öcalan was a freedom fighter, fighting for the rights of the Kurdish minority in Turkey. Some others say he was a terrorist who caused the deaths of thousands through rebellion against the Turkish government. Some said that he wasn’t “abducted,” he was “surrendered to” the Turkish forces with the Greek government’s knowledge and approval, as he sat with Greek embassy officials and Kenyan security guards, awaiting a helicopter to transport him to his promised sanctuary in the Netherlands.  Some said Greece’s foreign minister, Theodoros Pangalos, was forced to resign following the abduction (or was it the surrender?) of the Kurdish leader. Others news sources reported to have it “on good authority” that Pangalos resigned “because of a disagreement regarding the United States’ intervention in Kosovo.”

Pangalos was succeeded by his deputy, Giorgios Papandreou, and the former under-secretary, Ioannis Kranidiotis, took over responsibility for European affairs. Just as relations between Greece and Turkey had reached rock bottom, two men who favored rapprochement between Turkey and Greece were appointed to posts at the highest level.

What happened between Greece and Turkey next? The following is excerpted from an article by Niels Kadritzke, published in “Le Monde diplomatique,” June 2000:

“…the new Athenian leaders pressed for agreement with Ankara, notably

on the Balkans, where the two countries were of one mind, both firmly

committed to the inviolability of borders and the protection of the rights of

ethnic minorities.

Turkey implicitly recognised the inviolability of the border in Thrace, despite

the presence of a Turkish minority in the Greek part of the province.  Athens l

et it be known that, in its view, the ‘Kurdish problem’ did not affect the integrity of the Turkish state, even though this position was at odds with the sympathy frequently expressed - particularly in military circles - for the separatist line

taken by Öcalan’s Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK).

Papandreou then took an important step: he issued a statement on the legal status of the Turkish minority in Greece. He was obliged to do this once Greece signed the Council of Europe Convention on minorities. But he was nevertheless the first Greek politician to recognise the right of the Muslims in western

Thrace---hitherto regarded as a ‘Muslim minority’---to decide for themselves whether they were ethnically Turkish, Pomak or Tzigane.

In persuading Greek public opinion to accept European rules on minority

rights, Athens hoped that Turkey, too, would apply these rules strictly and

would become a better neighbour in the process. Thus, recognition of the

Turkish minority was part of the new policy vis-à-vis Turkey that was to

culminate in a historic decision at the European summit in Helsinki

(December 1999.)

At Helsinki, Greece withdrew its long-standing opposition to the idea of its eastern neighbour joining the European Union. The way is now open and Turkish accession depends primarily on the ruling powers in Ankara. It is for Turkey to decide when they think they will be able to comply with the "Copenhagen criteria" which all applicants are required to meet.

The rapid progress of détente is often ascribed to the personal qualities of the Greek and Turkish foreign ministers, Giorgios Papandreou and Ismail Cem.”

So to recap:

a) the rights of the Turkish and Muslim minorities living in Greece were now officially recognized by the Greek government

For Turkey’s part of the agreement, it openly states that borders between the two countries that had long been held in dispute, are now “inviolate,” and that it “recognizes” the rights of ethnic minorities.

And all of these issues, which had been contentions between Greece and Turkey for hundreds of years, were resolved in less than one, because of the team spirit between the two countries during their dual earthquakes, and because both of these two countries now had a foreign minister with a captivating personality. Who’d have expected relations between Turkey and Greece to improve so rapidly with the endorsement of both governments? Certainly not Abdullah Öcalan, would be my best guess, who despite international demand for his, “fair trial, carried out legally, properly, and in complete openness,” has not been heard from since that last encounter in Greece with the Turkish authorities.

I’ve spent endless hours searching ─ phone calls to newspapers, perusal of library archives and internet sites, but I simply cannot find any news written after 1999 on the whereabouts or fate of the former Kurdish leader.

However, in March 2006, I had the timely opportunity to meet Theodoros Panagalos, the former foreign minister of Greece, when he was giving a talk at San Francisco State University.

When Mr. Panagalos was asked, “In your professional opinion, what has happened to Abdullah Öcalan?”  he replied, and this is a driect quote:

“Öcalan is in prison, as you know. If you are asking what Greece’s role was, I will say this ─ Öcalan came to Greece. We told him not to come. But when he did, we did our duty. We are a nation, we have our interests. We are not the Red Cross.”

I thought this was clear and to the point.  There was no political fudging on the part of Mr. Panagalos. He did what he believed was right for the people of Greece, because had the Greek government harbored Öcalan, it very likely would have caused war between the two nations.

However, if I’d been given the opportunity, I would have asked Mr. Pangalos, “Are you sure this new détente between Greece and Turkey can work? Öcalan is as good as dead now and we all know it, and you, Mr. Panagalos, may have thrown yourself nobly on your sword in exchange for protecting your country’s borders and islands.  But, will the Turkish government ─ a government which in this 21st century, still throws its writers in jail for any  political commentary criticizing their government,  and calls this a crime of “offending Turkishness” ─ do you think a government like this will honor their new agreements with Greece?  Given their track record, how do we trust them? And, do you think the people of Greek should have been asked whether they would endorse these negotiations over the Kurdish rebel leader?”

You can see why it was probably wise of Mr. Panagalos not to grant me an interview!

Nonetheless, Hüseyin Celik, the Minister for Cultural Affairs in Turkey, when asked in 2003 about the current détente between Greece and Turkey, had this to say:

“….we must learn from history, learn from our past. But, building the future is what really matters. We have suffered enough because of ethnic and religious conflicts. We must do everything we can to consolidate the new ties between our countries, the progress we have made already. We can live together peacefully on the same planet. It has enough air, enough oxygen for Turks, Greeks and all the others---and it has enough water too. These are thing we don't have to fight over. They are there for everyone.  Obviously, we are not blind to our differences. We are not all made the same way. We can't all be the same shape, and have the same religion, language, feelings and ideas. That is impossible. We must respect one another's differences and we must try to live peacefully together. Mr Venizelos (the Greek minister) and I are both Ministers of Culture. We are interested in people's hearts and heads, their ideas and their feelings. It is up to us to try and change outlooks and attitudes for the future. That is our task - and our duty.”

I for one, hope that Greece and Turkey achieve these objectives.

3.  Greece/Ellas

The natives of Greece know their country as “Ellas” (ell-AHS) or, in varying contexts, “Ellada.” (ell-AH-THAH)  

They identify themselves as, “Hellenes,” pronounced in their language, something quite close to “Ell-ee-nez.”   Said language is not referred to as, “Greek,” but as “Ellinika.”  (El-lyn-nee-KAH.)

Some etymologists say that “Hellene” comes from the word, “Hellen,” who would have been the Helen that was taken to Troy by the Trojan prince, Paris. Helen was the Greek King, Menalaus,’ wife, and the Greeks sailed to Troy to get her back for him. Thus, they were christened “Hellenes” by the Trojans.  But this is not for certain.

What is certain is that the words, “Greece” and “Greek,” are derived from an ancient word for “slave,” placed upon the Hellenes when they were under the subjugation of conquerors, back in ancient times. Therefore, even though these designations became the popular references applied by much of the world, the Greeks themselves don’t use them. 

However, in regards to "Greek" meaning "slave" I recently received the following note from Mr. Bill Pontikakis of Montreal which gives a different slant on the etymology:

"The word 'Ellinas' does not come from Helen of Troy, since we were already called 'Ellines' at the time and the Greek (Ellinikes) city-states joined the war against Troy.

There are, as you state, a few opinions about the word "Ellinas". During Homeric times, Ellines were a specific group of people in the northern part of Greece from where Achilles came, and they fought in Troy. In Greek mythology, 'Hellēn' is the eponymous ancestor of the Hellenes, usually described as the son of Pyrrha and Deucalion. The name 'Greek', comes from Γραικοί and does not mean 'slaves.'   Γραικός was an older name for Greeks and even Aristotle wrote about the people of Dodoni, today's Greek area of Epirus where the Greeks lived and they were called Γραικοί, but then were named Hellines or Ellines."

However, the Hellenes are not at all offended if foreign persons use “Greek,” or “Greece,” but are pleasantly surprised and appreciative if we don’t, and we say, “Hellene” and “Hellas,” instead.

4. Cyprus

The Republic of Cyprus is an island nestled in the arc bordered by Syria, Turkey and Lebanon, looking across from the island of Crete, Greece. In many ways, Cyprus’ history reminds me of my father’s native Sicily. It’s been settled and conquered countless times by so many peoples, that this is reflected in its language. A linguist can detect in the commonly-used Cypriot speech traces of Italian, Arabic, Turkish and more. Cyprus’ official languages are listed as Greek, Cypriot, Armenian, Osmanli (Turkish) and English.

We’ll start the history of the island around 1200 BC, with the arrival of the Mycenæan Greeks.  This century-long migration is remembered in many legends about Greek heroes of the Trojan War, who established themselves on the island upon their return from Troy. Sometime after the 16th century, Cyprus became part of the Persian Empire. That ended when Alexander the Great came through with his army.  Later, the Greek rulers of Egypt controlled it, and it was eventually annexed by Rome in 58-57 BC.   One of the most noteworthy events that occurred in Roman Cyprus, was the visit by the Apostles Paul and Mark, who came to the island at the start of their first missionary journey in 45 AD. They converted the Roman Governor to Christianity. As a result, Cyprus became the first country in the world to be governed by a Christian ruler.

Cyprus is the mythological birthplace of the goddess of beauty, love, and passion ─ Aphrodite. (I’ve often wondered if this explains why every Cypriot women I’ve met so far, is so charming and gracious)  The legendary site of Aphrodite's birth from the foam is at “Petra tou Romiou,” (“Aphrodite's Rock”), a large grouping of rocks in the sea close to the coastal cliffs near Paphos. 

According to Hesiod’s Theogony, Aphrodite, who was also known as “Kypris,” or “the Cyprian,” emerged fully grown from the sea. (And, may I point out that Aphrodite’s birth was famously depicted in the painting, “The Birth of Venus,” by the ─ ahem ─ Italian artist, Botticelli.)

In the 1950’s, many of the Cypriot people began to demand union with Greece, but at that time, the island was being held by the British. In 1954, the struggle for independence from the British erupted into guerrilla activity, conducted mostly by the younger Cypriots. This activity was effectively quelled by the British, leaving the political atmosphere on the island unstable. Independence was finally attained in 1960, after exhaustive negotiations between the United Kingdom as the colonial power, and Greece and Turkey, the cultural 'motherlands' for the two communities on Cyprus.

The first President of the now independent republic was the Greek-Cypriot leader, Archbishop Makarios. His vice-president was the leading Turkish-Cypriot politician, Dr. Fazil Küçük.  Both these men pursued the idea of a “non-aligned foreign policy,” which meant cultivating and maintaining good relations with the three foreign countries who continued to have a territorial interest in Cyprus ─ Turkey, Greece and Britain. However, by 1974,  dissatisfaction among right-wing elements in favor of the long-term goal of “Enosis” ─ union with Greece ─ precipitated a coup against Makarios. This coup d'etat was not endorsed by the citizens of Greece, yet it was sponsored by the Papadopoulos military dictatorship that had taken Greece at that time. The takeover in Cyprus was led in by the Cypriot National Guard. The new regime replaced Makarios with Nicholas Giorgiadis Sampson as president and Bishop Gennadios as head of the Cypriot Orthodox Church.

In response to this, feeling their own interests in the island threatened, seven days after these events, during which its demands to Greece for the removal of the new dictatorship in Cyprus went unheeded, Turkey invaded Cyprus by sea and air on July 16, 1974.  They presented this incursion as an act of protection for the island's 18% Turkish-Cypriot minority.

Talks in Geneva involving Greece, Turkey, the United Kingdom and the two Cypriot factions, failed in mid-August, and the Turks subsequently moved to gain control of 37% of the island's territory.  Approximately 160,000 Greek-Cypriots were forced to flee south, uprooted from their homes in the northern part of the island where the Turkish army had positioned itself, while approximately 50,000 Turkish-Cypriots also had to abandon property in the south and go up north.

In the north, Greek-Cypriot soldiers were taken prisoner, more than 1600 of those still unaccounted for. The Greek junta made no armed response to the Turkish raid, as its power collapsed in Greece only a few days after. A liberated Greece, in retaliation for the Turkish movements in Cyprus, suspended military participation in the NATO alliance. The tension continued after Makarios returned to the presidency on December 7, 1974. He accepted a ‘bizonal, bicommunal’ federation as the form of a future state, but rejected any solution "involving transfer of populations and amounting to partition of Cyprus."

However, that’s what happened anyway and that’s what still exists in Cyprus as of this writing.

The events of the summer of 1974 have dominated Cypriot politics ever since, and have been a major point of contention between Greece and Turkey. Turkish-Cypriots proclaimed a separate state under Rauf Denktash on November 15, 1983. The UN Security Council, in its Resolution 541 of November 18, 1983, declared the action “illegal” and called for withdrawal. Turkey is to date the only country to recognize the "government" of the occupied part of Cyprus and continues to reject calls to recognize the Republic of Cyprus as the sole legitimate government of the island. 

It is this political point that has caused strained relations between Turkey and the European Union.  That’s changing now, as Greece has championed Turkey’s bid to be in the EU after the countries’ earthquake camaraderie. 

The United States set an embargo on sales of arms to Turkey, but this was voted down a few years after the invasion. Since then, the Turkish occupying force in Cyprus has been fortified with US weapons.  Cyprus joined the European Union as a full member in January 2005. Since the Turkish invasion, the southern part of Cyprus has grown economically and the country enjoys a high standard of living. The north maintains a lower standing of living due to the embargoes placed upon it since its unilateral declaration of independence.

Much of the above information was adapted from the Wikipedia encyclopedia. The article, as it stands on that site, is not completely objective. At the top of the page from which I obtained this information is written this disclaimer:

“The neutrality of this article is disputed. Please see the talk page.”

On the ‘talk page,’ you will find impassioned convictions regarding  the Cyprus dispute, presented by Greeks, Turks, Cypriots, Brits, and even Americans, each seeing this situation from their own angle ─ flaming post in response to flaming post, but none really hearing the other.  Though they made for grim reading because of the seething hostility prevalent in the bulk of them, I slogged through. Most made some thought-provoking arguments from all sides of the issue. I wonder if they’ll ever really listen to each other.

For those who wish to reflect on the matter from the Turkish perspective, an article published by The British Council of Turkish Cypriots can be found here.

While Joan Maragoudakis and I had Serafim Books, I visited Cyprus several times to liaison with English language teachers on the south side of the island.  I had some singular experiences. The first was my discovery that, on my first business visit, without realizing what we’d done, we booked a hotel which was right next to the “green line,”  which is what divides the northern part of the island from the southern. I’d  circled the hotel once or twice to get the feel for where I was, and as I came around to the back of the hotel for the second time, I glanced up. That’s when I realized the hotel’s location.  There was a high wall behind it and several soldiers were walking across on some sort of a platform or walkway above me. They were armed.   I couldn’t make out if they would have been Greek-Cypriot soldiers or Turkish ones. I was sure the people in the hotel would know, but I felt that asking them would seem like morbid curiosity on my part, or that I regarded the soldiers and the divider as some sort of twisted tourist attraction, when it was something the people there had to live with every day. The whole sight was sobering for an Amerikanaki like me.

The second experience I had on that first trip to Cyprus was much more pleasant, and demonstrated why Cyprus is known for its ‘filo-xenia’  (“friendliness to strangers.”) 

One evening when I returned to the hotel, the young Cypriot man at the front desk told me, “I have something for you from Effie. She came back after her shift this afternoon to give it to you, but you’d already left for the day.”

Effie was the young woman who worked at the hotel for the morning shift. She and I had had a conversation earlier that day, in which I was telling her that I had friends living in the United States who were originally from Larnaca, Cyprus. It was they who’d introduced me to halloumi, a delicious Cypriot cheese.

 “Halloumi is my son’s favorite cheese,” I said.

(You knew I’d have to get cheese, or some other food, in here, somehow. Don’t even get me started on the restaurants in Cyprus or the delicious Cypriot specialities.)

Effie said, “My father has a farm and makes his own halloumi cheese. You’ve never tasted halloumi as good as he can make it, I guarantee you.”

I never imagined that Effie would leave the hotel after her shift, drive all the way to her family farm and then back to the hotel, just to bring me some of her father’s cheese.  But the proof of that was right in the night manager’s hand---a kilo-sized package of halloumi, wrapped in foil, kept cold.  For me ─ a foreign guest at a Cyprus hotel, from the hotel’s morning manager.

“I’ll keep it in the fridge for you so it won’t spoil before you leave,” said the young man. “But just so you know it’s here. I promised her I’d make sure you got it. She’ll be mad with me if you don’t.”

I was floored. For a worker at a hotel to go to such lengths to present a gift solely to a visitor she’d not see again after this stay was beyond anything I’d ever experienced in the way of hospitality. It meant a lot and I’ll never forget it. And Effie was right ─ no halloumi cheese I’ve ever tasted since was better than the sample from her father’s farm.

The third experience I had on that trip was the most intriguing. I’d hired a car and driver to transport me to several different schools on the island. The driver was an older man with an exceptional knowledge of Cyprus, who was more than willing to operate as both tour guide and chauffeur. 

The first thing he pointed out was a bronze sculpture in a square ─ a depiction of a teenage boy who’d died during the Cyprus Uprising. The inscription on the statue read, “Born: May 9, 1940.  Died: March 21, 1956.” 

It struck me that depicted Cypriot boy was less than two months shy of his sixteenth birthday when he was killed.

The Cypriot Uprising occurred between the years 1955 through 1959, because the islanders wanted to be through with British rule. The British claim they were in Cyprus as overseers of the island, because the Greeks had “invaded” it in 1940, and someone might choose to do so again. 

About this, the Greeks say they’d only “entered” Cyprus in 1940, because during WWII, the Turkish were on the Axis side, and since the Turkish Axis forces were going to invade Cyprus to take it for themselves, the Greeks had to get to Cyprus first to prevent that from happening. 

After WWII, when so many parts of the world were being “divvied up,” the Turks didn’t like that idea that the Greeks might get Cyprus, so the they began making plans to invade Cyprus, too.

The tug-of-war over Cyprus between Greece and Turkey didn’t sound very good to the Allies, so they decided that one of them had to step in and look after the island, and it was logical that it be one of the Allies who were nearest to it. Nobody really trusted the Russians, so Britain was sent to be the overseers of Cyprus. The Greeks and the Turks had been fighting over which one of them should get the little island for years, and now the British had gotten involved in the squabble over Cyprus, too. Nobody seemed to notice or care what the Cypriots thought of all this, which was, of course, “why couldn’t everyone just leave them alone and let them have their little island to themselves?”

However, if you have a fair knowledge of geography and international affairs, the answer to that question is obvious ─ in the chess board that is the world, Cyprus has the hard luck of being a rather strategically-placed pawn. 

The Cypriots made their opinion of their own situation clear by demanding independence.  But ─ more hard luck ─ no one else but the Cypriots thought independence was a good idea. So the Cypriots came up with another idea to make their demands even more eloquent.  The same idea that seems to be the only one to naturally occur to anyone, anywhere in the world, when these sorts of situations exist ─ violence and bloodshed. And thus, The Cypriot Uprising was born.

I looked at the statue again. Beneath the dates were two words, “Thanatos Athanatos.” 

“Those words mean opposites ─ ‘Death,’and ‘Immortality.’ Why are written together?” I asked the driver.

He explained, “In English this can be interpreted as, ‘Deathless Death.’ It’s an expression that means he who dies young, doesn’t suffer through old age, and is blessed to remain eternally youthful.”

Foolishly, it hit me harder that the young Cypriot soldier depicted by the statue had died when he was only sixteen. There was so little I’d seen by my own sixteenth year, yet I thought I knew so much.  There was a great deal more I’d gotten to learn since then. It seemed a high price to pay to be ‘immortal’─ dying at such a young age. But perhaps that thought was some small comfort to those he’d left behind.

After my last appointment, as my driver and I headed back to the hotel and we passed the blockade that divided the island, I asked him, “Were you here when the Turkish came?”

He looked back at me from the car mirror and chuckled, “I certainly was.  I was a soldier at the time. I was on watch and was one of the first to see the Turkish ships coming.”

I sat up straighter in the back seat and looked at his face through his rear view mirror. “Oh, my goodness. How frightening. What did you do?” I asked.

“What I was trained to do. I radioed to the base to inform my superior officers, and I called for other soldiers to come. We were prepared to fight.”    He frowned. “But that was not to be. When we went to get guns and ammunition from the storage houses, there were none there. No guns, no bullets, no grenades.” He paused. “Not anything at all.”

“It was empty?  Why on earth….?” I asked, horrified.

He had a grim, odd look on his face and said nothing for a moment. Then he answered, “Because they knew. They already knew that the Turks were coming. It wasn’t a surprise. I know, because I had checked the supply houses the day before, because that was one of my duties.” He tapped his finger on dashboard for emphasis, “The supply houses were full the day before, and when we went to get the guns the next day, they were gone. All the weapons had been removed during the night.”

I said nothing for a while as we drove, running this information around in my head, wondering whether this was an accurate report he’d given me. If it were, might there be another explanation as to why the weapons arsenal was gone? If the government was aware that there would be an attack, why would they not want their soldiers to have weapons to fight it?  At the time, I couldn’t think of one reason.

Finally, I asked him, “What did you do?”

He responded, “What could we do? We went home.  Within four days, there were Turkish soldiers everywhere.”

He drove silently for a while.  Then reiterated, “There was nothing we could do.”
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The situation on Cyprus is no less volatile at this moment than it was then. Earlier negotiations between the Greek and Turkish sides resulted in an agreement ‘in principle’ to reunification as a bi-cameral, bi-zonal federation, with territory allocated to the Greek and Turkish communities within a united island. However, the two sides continued to bicker over, among other points, the Turkish-Cypriot fear of discrimination and control by the Greek-Cypriot majority and, on the part of the Greek-Cypriots, the right of return for refugees to properties vacated in the 1974 displacement of Cypriots on both sides. The ongoing inability to reach a compromise presented a likely obstacle to Cypriot entry to the European Union, for which the government had applied in 1997. UN-sponsored talks between the Greek and Turkish leaders continued at length in 2002, without resolution.

Nonetheless, in December of 2002, the EU formally invited Cyprus to join them in 2004, insisting that EU membership would apply to the whole island and hoping that this would provide a significant incentive for reunification resulting from the ongoing talks. But by mid-March, once again, there were deadlocks on both sides, and the UN declared that the talks were unsuccessful. So, a United Nations plan for reunification of Cyprus, sponsored by Secretary-General Koffi Annan, who’d based his ideas on what progress had been made in Geneva was announced in March 2004. The plan was put to both the Greek-Cypriot and Turkish-Cypriot sides in separate initiatives in April 2004.  It included a structured central government, as well as suggestions for a national flag and its own anthem.

The Greek sector objected strongly to the plan, primarily because the majority of voters felt it did not include a reasonable and fair settlement regarding the repatriation of Turkish living on Greek-Cypriot owned land in the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, nor did it deal clearly enough with the demilitarization of that area.

But the Turkish sector voted in favor.  Not necessarily because the proposal showed a predilection for their side, but perhpas because they liked Koffi’s flag. 

As a result of the objections of the UN plan for reunification, In May 2004, Cyprus entered the EU, albeit with membership applying only to the southern part of the island. However, in acknowledgement of the Turkish-Cypriot community's support for reunification, the EU made it clear that trade concessions would be reached to stimulate economic growth in the north, and that the European Union remains committed to reunification under terms satisfactory to both sides.

Things have moved further along since then, with Turkey being slated to enter the EU in 2011, but a lot more needs to be settled, as you’ll deduce on your own if you ever do happen to wander over to Greece, or for that matter, Turkey, and venture to ask a local to tell you about the Cyprus issue. Brace yourself for the reply.

In the meantime, my friend, Joan, who lived in the UK with her family during this time, did her part to inform British people whom she met there who purchased property on either side of Cyprus from inhabitants who had appropriated said property from a displaced Greek or Turkish Cypriot, that “they should be ashamed of themselves, because they’d stolen it, plain and simple.”

It didn’t matter to Joan whether these British citizens were highly placed officials, her next-door neighbors, or her beleaguered husband’s imperative business associates. It’s very plain to all of us who love her that Joan does not live her life to mendaciously garner friends and influence people, but to set any and all opportunists and scallywags straight, whether they like her and hers for it, or don’t.   This is not the only thing I miss about her, but it’s one of the big ones.  If Joan Maragoudakis had been the Secretary-General of the United Nations, rather than Koffi Annan, the Cyprus issue would have been resolved immediately, with all parties involved taken to task for whatever role they’ve had in this dreadful debacle.

For my part, whenever I think about Cyprus and the misfortunes that have taken place there, I sometimes imagine it’s a profound sadness to Aphrodite that the gorgeous little island named for herself, the Goddess of Love, has become synonymous for greed, betrayal, tears and blood.

5. “Princess Marie Chantell of Greece”

                                                          Ms. Marie Miller
 

Well, up to this point, regarding Greek politics,  I think I’ve been pretty darn objective, trying as hard as possible to state only the facts, without interjecting my own opinion.

(Yes I have so.) 

But get ready, because I am about to go on a rant, which I direct primarily to the editors of American Vogue magazine:

Greece is a democracy. Greece ‘invented’ democracy, as we’ve heard since we were in grade school and as has been illustrated within these pages, Greece has fought long and hard, over thousands of years, to be a democracy. Greece has a president and a prime minister. Though its government is structured differently than that of the United States, it is nonetheless a government “by the people, for the people.”  There is no monarchy in Greece at the present time, nor has there been for more than thirty years.  There was a king, but he was deposed. The majority rules in Greece that he not be returned to power.

The United States leaders, in their international rhetoric, consistently say that they support “democracy” and “the free world.”  Whether they actually do or not is up for debate, of course.  But even if the Bush Administration told us a great big fib about this, I know in my heart that that is indeed what the general populace here in the United States supports.

Which brings me to my point. Despite my written protests and those of many others, Vogue magazine continues to feature in their society pages, a “Princess Marie Chantell of Greece.” 

Marie Chantell is London-born socialite, Marie Miller, who is married to the son of the deposed king of Greece, a man descended from the Danish Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg line. 

The Greeks like to call him, “Mr. Glucksburg,” much to his annoyance. He still calls himself, “King Konstantine,” or  “Konstantine Del Grecia, (which means, “of Greece”) much to their annoyance.

There is a thorough and fairly-balanced history on the monarchy in Greece here  for those who wish to read about the  whys and wherefores of it all.

I am well aware that Ms. Miller is entitled by certificate to call herself “princess.”  Yet forgive me if there are those of us who are so plebeian to feel, as some Greek-Americans and Greek nationals have written in letters to Vogue, that for the magazine to highlight her as such, and as the only representation of Greece, is in very bad form.

It’s not Marie herself who gets my goat. She owns a very nice clothing store in Athens, and has written a children’s book, and you know how fond I am of those. And, if she’s very successfully cashed in on her marriage, I say, “bravo” for her---why not?  I don’t have a problem with any of these things. But what I do have a problem with is that Vogue magazine does not appear to respect the sensibilities of their more egalitarian-minded readers by also printing photos and stories about woman who are part of the political democracy in Greece.

Two exceptional women come to mind immediately ─ Dora Bakoyiannis and Gianna Angelopoulos-Daskalaki. These self-starting females could very adequately represent Greece. Why aren’t they ever featured in Vogue?

Dora Bakoyiannis was chosen World Mayor of 2005  in a “best mayor of the world,“ election by popular vote around the globe. She’s also a member of Parliament in Greece, which is not an easily-earned position.  She’s prevailed over the traditionalist view of women in Greek society to make great strides in education and on equal rights. She suffered personal tragedy for Greece when her politician husband and father of her two children, Pavlo Bakoyiannis, was assassinated. Yet, even over this she triumphed, remaining in politics at great personal danger to herself and family for the good of her nation. Dora presided as mayor in Athens during the Olympics of 2004, overseeing it through the construction and organisation for the games.  This alone earns her the respect of many. Dora was recently appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs. 

As for Gianna Daskalaki,  there would have been no Olympic games in Athens in 2004 without her. Named one of the fifty most powerful women in the world by Forbes, appointed Ambassador at Large by the Greek government, serving since 1994 as vice-chair of Harvard University’s John F. Kennedy School of Government, Gianna Angelopoulos-Daskalaki was  president of the bidding committee when she succeeded in bringing the Olympics to Athens. She was thanked for this accomplishment by being excluded from the initial organization committee that would prepare for the games. But when the preparations in Greece for the games were not progressing well without her, Gianna was asked to return and  named president of the Organization Committee. Under her supervision, competition facilities were completed and security issues were taken care of at once. IOC presidents credit Gianna Angelopoulos-Daskalaki specifically for the success of the games.

I can name so many other women involved in  the democracy of Greece today, but Gianna and Dora look superb in designer gowns, which seems to the key requirement to being eligible to be emissary of Greece in Vogue. 

One further comment to the editors that magazine ─ let’s not forget that the United States was once part of a monarchy, too. How would we have felt if the late Princess of Wales, referred to herself as “Princess Diana, of the United States?”  Would we have accepted it because she, like Marie Chantell, was a lovely blonde who wore Versace?
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My social and political outbursts here make it  plain why I was so comfortable living in Greece, where Greek citizens sit in outdoor tavernas and cafenions and drink endless cups of coffee or glasses of frappé, as they discuss politics. Often they’ll be debating the topics I’ve laid out for you here, along with many others. As they thrash out their differing opinions, they’ll shout, bang their fists on the table, stand up to shout louder, sit back down, glare pugnaciously at one another, shout some more, and behave as though they might attack each other at any moment. Don’t be concerned if you witness any of these performances, though. For most of the participants, it’s just a pleasurable way to spend an afternoon.

                                                                             

                                   Yiasou!

                     

patricia@patriciaVdavis.com