Cyprus: Anger Again

Turkey has long since learned that the best way to advertise the plight of the Turkish minority on Cyprus is to move a large number of soldiers into the port of Iskenderun, send out some ships on “patrol,” and arrange for someone to make an inflammatory speech in Ankara. Invariably, the result is panicky fear of a Cyprus invasion that brings mobilization by the Greeks on Cyprus and a sudden feverish burst of diplomatic energy in every major capital in the West. Just such a fright last week caused Cypriot President Archbishop Makarios to call out his 30,000-man Home Guard, sent NATO Supreme Allied Commander in Europe General Lyman Lemnitzer scurrying off to Ankara, and even brought President Lyndon Johnson into the fray.

“Final” Decision. This time, the Turks were calling attention to the helplessness of Turkish Cypriots in the wake of Makarios’ recent decision to call up all youths between the ages of 19 and 21 for military service, and more ominously, his open threat to begin importing heavy weapons, probably from the Soviet Union or the U.A.R. Early last week, Turkish Cypriot Fazil Kuchuk, who is technically Vice President of Cyprus but no longer even dares to go to his office in Nicosia’s Greek sector, proposed that he and Makarios hold a conference on “the Green Line,” the heavily guarded border separating Greeks from Turks. Makarios flatly refused, and throughout the island Turkish tempers flared. On the mainland, Iskenderun was suddenly alive with troops, and Turkey’s Premier Ismet Inönü went on the radio with electric words: “Our decision is final. We have to provide an unshakable security for the future of the Cypriot Turks.”

Within hours, Lemnitzer was huddling anxiously with Turkey’s top soldiers, urging moderation. Nervous at the possibility of a war that would set NATO allies Greece and Turkey to fighting, Johnson hurriedly sent a personal message to Inönüurging that the Turkish leader exercise moderation and come to the U.S. to discuss the whole Cyprus mess. Inönü declined because of “the pressure of current affairs,” but a Turkish spokesman made it known that the invasion threat was over “for the time being.”

Something in the Fiat. On Cyprus, the invasion scare only briefly distracted the Greek Cypriots from another source of tension last week: a bitter squabble with the British that led Makarios’ men to demand that London withdraw its 2,000 troops from the 7,000-man U.N. peace-keeping force on the island. Anger was triggered by the arrest a fortnight ago of R.A.F. Senior Aircraftman Keith Marley, his wife and one-year-old baby near the town of Morphou, in northern Cyprus. The following day, Greek Cypriot Interior Minister Poly-karpos Georghadjis announced that Marley had been carrying in his Fiat two mortars and two frogmen suits. Claiming this to be evidence of British collusion with the hated Turks, Georghadjis declared that “the British can no longer form a constructive element in the international peace-keeping force in Cyprus.”

Proclaiming every Briton to be a potential gunrunner to the enemy, the Greeks last week began searching every British car they found on the roads. Soon the word got around: in the north-coast port of Kyrenia, a mob stoned the British-owned Harbour Club. In Nicosia, 3,000 Greek schoolchildren marched through town shouting “British go home!”

Britain was of a mind to do just that. In London, British Commonwealth Secretary Duncan Sandys was cheered when he rose in the House of Commons to insist that “while they are performing this thankless task, we feel that our troops and their families have a right to be treated with courtesy by those who so readily accepted our offer to come to their aid.” On June 27, Britain’s present commitment to the U.N. force will end. Whether it will be renewed, Sandys hinted, is open to question.