I experienced it as a child. That’s how I felt at 16 years old. Having returned from Cyprus one day before the Turks invaded, I found myself at Syntagma Square, stunned, four days later, to celebrate Greece’s return to democracy.
I didn’t know what was happening. I went down to the island to hold a memorial for my father—my mother couldn’t bear it, she hated the island that took her husband at 43, a year earlier!
From the cemetery in Nicosia, I went to the airport and returned to Athens. Lost. Scared. Everywhere I heard, “Turkey is going to attack us.”
A turmoil in my soul. Back then, a 16-year-old was more of a child than a 16-year-old today. He felt, but he didn’t understand. Unconsciously, he let himself be swept away by History.
Fate, whatever “that” is (I’m still grappling with it), seemed to have it written that in my early professional stirrings in journalism, alongside my studies in Mathematics, I would be called to cover one of the first receptions of the Presidency for the restoration of Democracy.
Since then, and over time, I’ve covered about 11 receptions. I will be there again today, after many years.
I want to say that the word “celebration” doesn’t apply here, in the sense that we’re celebrating something. It’s an official event. If some, from time to time, tried to see it a bit more socially, that was their problem, as well as some media outlets which, as you know, always have a tendency towards what we call “showing off” and “glamour.”
Yes, we wear our best. The buffet is always simple. Political leaders gather in the “kiosk” of the Presidential courtyard and say their piece, shielded from the voracity of TV journalists eager to snatch a word, even a typical one, or a “provocative” snapshot!
In the Garden, as they call it, “formal simplicity” has become the norm. And you always find the opportunity to refer to the seven-year dictatorship and how Cyprus was betrayed.
It’s a bad myth that people in Greece don’t care about our captive island. What they lack is real contact with life and people in Cyprus.
There was a time when those from Greece were the No.1 visitors to the island. Now, they might even be the last. There is definitely a “guilt syndrome.” Many of my acquaintances here have heard the phrase “you sold us out” to their face.
They say time heals many things. I believe it. But it doesn’t correct them. Nor does it restore them to their previous state. The important thing is to talk, to communicate. To strive for the best, guided by the most valuable.
Education. Culture. Language. Philosophy. Faith.
Today, I will go to the Reception of Democracy feeling full. Today, we will celebrate (yes) the fall of the dictatorship and the beginning of our longest and most exciting democratic adventure.
(*) And every year, I accept this “conflict” within me as an element that helps me endure the wounds and enjoy their healing…
