Sometimes a film, a book, a paragraph, or an article recounting someone else’s memories can bring about profound changes in your life.
Whenever you watch that film, you remember your turning point or what you were thinking in those days.
Whenever you see or read that book, you are reminded once again of how your ideas changed…
Whenever that paragraph comes to mind, you remember that event, that person…
I, too, have films, books, and paragraphs in my life that have deeply affected me and led to turning points…
In 2012, together with Mine Çeliker, I put together an exhibition featuring episodes from the life of our Founding President, Rauf Raif Denktaş. We came to the conclusion that to give the exhibition meaning, it needed to include not only pictures of Denktaş, but his words as well.
We collected dozens of books on the subject. One piece of writing we came across among them affected us very deeply.
From that day to this, whenever a new year begins, I think of the piece Denktaş wrote on 1 January 1964, after the events of 1963.
I will end today’s column with the words of Denktaş, written 51 years ago. They affected me deeply, clearly convey what was happening in those days, and belong to a leader who never lost hope, no matter what.
The words are Denktaş’s:
The happy people of the world, celebrating the arrival of 1964, still have not awakened from the deep sleep brought on by the evening’s exhaustion!
All humanity hopes that 1964 will bring them happiness…
But what about us?
What will 1964 bring to the Turkish Cypriots, who have been fighting for their lives for days, crushed on the roads of displacement, brutally killed and massacred?
We do not know…
We are in the midst of a struggle.
We are on the thin line between existence and non-existence…
The food distributed yesterday from the cold store gave some relief to people who have barely been getting by since 21 December…
The first sun of 1964 is rising.
The first morning of 1964…
I pray to my God for the Turkish Cypriots: “May we not become a second Crete. May our children not grow up in captivity, may the call to prayer never fall silent, and may we live in freedom, happiness, and peace.”
I make my way around the positions in Lefkoşa.
The fighters have been in the trenches for days.
Hungry, tired, and sleepless.
Food is scarce. “Do you need anything?” I ask.
“We only want guns and ammunition,” they say.
A deep silence reigns in the streets of Lefkoşa…
The clinics are full of wounded people.
The sobs and weeping of mothers of martyrs, women, and children tear through this silence.
They surround me and ask, “What will become of us?”…
What will become of us?
Things will be all right…
Turkey is behind us…
God will sooner or later teach the oppressors a lesson…