THE MIRACLE
A True Story
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Turks being tortured by the Greeks in Cyprus? Go on, tell me - do you or do you not approve?"

   His passion was genuine. The fat man lived every moment like a great theatre star.

   Struggling to retain his equanimity, my father said: "Torture is a very bad thing, Beyefendi. Of course I don't approve, nor would any civilised person."

   Like a viper lying in wait for its prey and ready to strike when the right moment presented itself, the sallow-faced man with the moustache extended a threatening finger and said suddenly:

   "Then why do you, Koumakis, why do you yourself send money to support the devil-priest Makarios? Why do you stab our brothers in Cyprus in the back by helping Makarios? Are you so ungrateful to Turkey, which has raised you and tolerated you since you were born?"

   My father just managed to say "Beyefendi, I haven't sent any financial aid to Makarios - or to anybody else in Cyprus," when the sallow-faced man sprang out of his chair and yelled:

   "Shut up! Anything you say will just make your situation worse, you fool! We have reliable evidence to back what we are saying, and are quite sure that with the right kind of interrogation you will confess to everything!"

   The fat man interrupted calmly:

   "But that isn't our aim - unless, of course, you force us. Turkey is a civilised country and doesn't want to inflict on you giavours the same suffering as our brothers in Cyprus have to endure. So we have generously decided to give you a great opportunity: you will sign a number of papers which we need for our files. Then three policemen will accompany you to your shop and your home to make an inventory of anything you have which is of value. Don't forget, you acquired these things through the toil and sweat of the Turkish people, and you have conscientiously been sending part of your profits to Cyprus to be used against our brothers there. You have six days in which to settle only any urgent outstanding affairs. You will be deported from Turkey by the first flight next Tuesday. This is a very small punishment for the crimes you have committed against Turkey."

   The sallow-faced man started shouting again. "I don't agree! I don't agree! We are letting them get away with their lives and are ignoring the serious crimes they have committed! That's not civilisation, that's stupidity!"

   "Don't forget that we are a very magnanimous people, which is something our enemies have always taken advantage of," replied the fat man. "Come on, Koumakis, sign these papers before I make up my mind that we shall have to send you for interrogation to make you confess."

   The colour drained from my father's face; indeed he felt as if his blood had left his whole body. He had heard various things about visits by Greeks to the Turkish police, but this blatant cynicism shown by the fat man was beyond anything he could have imagined.

   Through my father's mind, like lightning, flashed stories about the dreadful tortures carried out, along with the image of a man we knew who had passed through the hands of the Turkish police and emerged, mutilated and disfigured, to spend the rest of his life a cripple because he rejected the "charges" they were trying to lay on him.

   My father felt as if he had been knocked over by a piece of thread. For a few seconds he considered his chances of resisting. He knew at that moment that it would be futile to attempt to do anything other than what they were telling him, to do.

   He stood up, went up to the fat man's desk, took a pen and began to sign his name on papers that he hadn't even read.

   When he had finished, the fat man seemed pleased.

   "Aferim! (well done!)" he said. "That shows what a sensible man you are."

   My father was then led to a small room where his photograph and fingerprints were taken.

   The fat man and the sallow-faced one with the thin moustache had completed their task.


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Leonidas Koumakis
THE MIRACLE
A True Story


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