Press Releases

I am deeply moved and proud to be here among you today for the opening of the Press and Information Office’s (PIO) Photographic Exhibition titled “50 years – Turkish Invasion and occupation”.

It is a small sample of the extensive photographic archive of the Press and Information Office, which records the atrocities of war, human suffering and the yearning for reunification.

Those of you honouring us tonight with your presence will also have the opportunity to watch the Press and Information Office’s film titled "Operation Museum". The film chronicles the staggering struggle of the then Director of the Department of Antiquities and the Archaeological Museum, the late Vassos Karageorghis, and the staff of the Cyprus Archaeological Museum to rescue its exhibits during the Turkish invasion of 1974.

The exhibition and the film presented today are part of a broader set of actions, taking place in Cyprus and throughout the world, in the framework of the ad hoc committee set up to mark the 50th anniversary of the Turkish invasion and the illegal occupation of almost half of the territory of the Republic of Cyprus.

Among them are the new Press and Information Office collector's edition on the 50 years of Turkish invasion and occupation, which includes 110 photographs from the Press and Information Office Archive, as well as the Press and Information Office short film titled "Cyprus Problem: 50 years is far too long", which was recently released in order to remind everyone that the Cyprus problem remains unresolved and that the current status quo can in no way be considered as acceptable.

All of the aforementioned are fragments of an ark of individual and collective narratives, trials and expectations. Their purpose, for all of us who lived through the Turkish invasion and the refugee crisis that followed suit, is to compose an aesthetic experience in which art in times of war functions as an image, an extension of moments and a record of memory.  

Ladies and gentlemen,

Half a century later, since the most tragic moment in Cypriot history, generations of children have been born and raised in the harsh reality of a wounded Cyprus.

A Cyprus for which, in a world where everything seems to be moving at a frantic pace, elements of life stand still. Elements of life resist time and accompany our every step, our every thought. They cast a shadow over joy and shed light on the darkest paths of memory. That is no other than the occupation of our country.

Refugee tents, barbed wire, infants in their mothers’ arms living in tragedy, barefoot children playing in refugee camps, men on their knees with hands tied behind their back, women dressed in black holding photographs in their hands, without a family, the chilling howl of the sirens that wail every year since, on the anniversary of the invasion. 

This year marks fifty years since the dreadful summer of 1974. Fifty years of violation of human rights, fifty years of abandonment, fifty years of destruction of our cultural heritage, fifty years of struggle, fifty years of perseverance. 

We have not given up. We will not give up. We have claimed our rightful place in Europe and in the world. We have accomplished a lot. We will accomplish even more. Nonetheless, we have not grown accustomed to it. We have not forgotten. WE HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN.

Fifty years is far too long. It’s enough.

Allow me to extend my sincere thanks to the Ambassador of the Republic of Cyprus in the Hellenic Republic, Mr Stavros Avgoustides, for his warm hospitality, to the Minister of Foreign Affairs and the Deputy Minister of Culture for their valuable contribution, as well as to all those who contributed to the planning and implementation of the actions for reminding us that 50 years of Turkish invasion and occupation have gone by.  I would be remiss if I did not express my sincere gratitude to my colleagues at the Press and Information Office in Cyprus, as well as to the Press Advisοr here in Athens, Mr Adonis Taliadoros, who worked with the utmost respect and dedication for all this today.

I would like to leave you with the verses of Costas Montis from his poem "Karavas, Lapithos, July-August 1974"

Don't "export" lemons this year.

Their juice is the blood of our 18-year-old children,

their juice is the reaped youth of 18-year-old children.

Reckon where to place them eternally,

reckon how to keep them forever.

(IA/NGian/NZ)