The World: Scarred for Two Generations

Ancient Kyrenia, tucked into the north coast of Cyprus, was once one of the most idyllic small-boat harbors and vacation spots in the eastern Mediterranean. But last week, reported TIME Correspondent William Marmon after a revisit to the place where he had vacationed in the past and more recently hunkered down during the Turkish invasion, Kyrenia was like a charnel house. Bloated human bodies rotted in back alleys; livestock and chickens were dying of starvation; meats and produce were putrefying in the summer sun because shelling and gunfire had cut off electricity. From a happy harbor Kyrenia had disintegrated into a place where 700 terrified Greek Cypriot refugees were locked up in Castellis Dome Hotel rooms designed for 250 guests while Turkish soldiers happily looted stores and private homes.

In a sense, Marmon reported, the same disintegration affected the whole island as a result of the fierce fighting between Turks and Greeks. Few utilities were functioning fully. The tally sheets of death and destruction were still being added up, and islanders on both sides were struggling to comprehend the “new realities” that Turkish Premier Biilent Ecevit warned of in the wake of the Turkish invasion. Thousands of residents—both Turkish and Greek—had been turned into refugees.

In the long term perhaps the most serious effect of the invasion will be on the economy. Damage was severe to the tourist trade, in which Cypriots have invested $300 million. Last year travelers from all over the world left $66 million on Cyprus, or 40% of the island’s foreign-exchange earnings. This year the take had been expected to reach $90 million. “Our hearts are bleeding,” Tourism Director-General Adonis Andronikou told Marmon. “This year would have been a record.”

Nicosia’s International Airport, which handled most of the tourist travel, was heavily damaged and will be out of service for months. In addition, the airport is situated in a disputed zone which both Turkish and Greek Cypriots now claim. In Famagusta, four major hotels along the town’s “Golden Mile” of hostelries—the Venus Beach, Blue Sea, Salaminia Tower and Aspelia —were nearly destroyed. The Ledra Palace in Nicosia, acknowledged queen of Cypriot hotels, is a shell-pocked shambles. A construction program under which 35 additional hotels were to be built throughout the island has been suspended indefinitely.

The war claimed other casualties. Monasteries and Crusader castles, the diadems among Cyprus’ sightseeing attractions, were hit by gunfire or seared by shell-started flames. In Famagusta, the church of St. Nicholas where the kings of Jerusalem were once crowned was damaged. The temple of Aphrodite in Paphos was seriously pocked by mortar shells. In Bellapaise, high above the sea on the north coast, the 14th century abbey with its lemon trees is under United Nations protection.

Though the situation is bleak, it is not totally black. Shops, banks and newspapers were slowly reopening last week. A few freighters returned to Cypriot harbors. From Limassol, in one of the first post-fighting shipments, a cargo of lush grapes left the island. Along with other government offices, the Bank of Cyprus returned to limited work. The island is far from broke: the Bank of Cyprus has $330 million in sterling in London vaults to underwrite loans that will assist Cyprus in rebuilding. But as a U.N. official in Nicosia observed: “Cyprus will be economically marked for a generation, and psychologically scarred for two generations.”