It was the summer of 1974, and Attila, having committed his first crime in Cyprus, had begun to commit his second. The date was August 17, and a group of Turkish journalists arrived at Five Mile Beach in Kyrenia to cover the events of the second invasion.

Among them was Ahmet Kahraman, then 33 years old and of Kurdish descent, a correspondent for the left-wing newspaper “Yeni Ortam.”

Kahraman, along with seven of his colleagues, was never able to fulfill the purpose for which they had come, since upon their arrival in Kyrenia and after setting out by road toward Nicosia, they lost their way and ran into a Greek Cypriot roadblock, resulting in their arrest and transfer to the Limassol police station. They remained in custody there for five days until their release and handover to the Turkish army on August 22.

During this time, Ahmet Kahraman witnessed the destruction and despair that Attila had brought to the villages and people of Cyprus, and during his two-day stay at the Serai Hotel in Nicosia before returning to Ankara, he overheard Turkish officers discussing and cynically describing the execution and secret burial of Greek Cypriots at some point along the Kyrenia-Nicosia road.

Today, the Kurdish journalist, now in his 80s, lives in exile in Germany, since his origins and his long-standing journalistic struggle for the rights of the Kurdish people and the defense of human rights eventually brought him into a dangerous head-on conflict with the regime in Ankara.

We contacted him to request an interview, which he willingly granted us.

When did you come to Cyprus?
During the second invasion of 1974. I came as a correspondent for the newspaper ‘Yeni Ortam’. I arrived with other colleagues by ferry from Mersin. We disembarked in Kyrenia, at Pente Mili Beach. When we arrived, there were quite a few Turkish soldiers, and some of them in a truck were shouting for anyone heading to Nicosia to come with them. Another group of journalists who had arrived the same day as us went with them. We, however, boarded another vehicle—a small truck—and set off for Nicosia. On the way, we passed through villages, and I saw damage to many houses; it looked as though the Turks had occupied them.

When were you arrested?
On the way, we lost our way and ran into a roadblock. We must have been about 5 km from Nicosia. There, we were stopped by some young Greek Cypriots. They were wearing civilian clothes and carrying weapons. They introduced themselves as law students. There were seven of us in total—journalists from various Turkish media outlets. The young men had their guns drawn and ordered us to line up in two rows; they thought we were soldiers. One of the journalists with us, Mete Aykol, a nationalist, knowing that I worked for a left-wing newspaper, turned to me and shouted sarcastically, “Are these your friends?”. Their team leader came up to me at one point. I didn’t see them as enemies, but as friends. So I turned and said to him: “We’re journalists—why are you pointing your guns at us?” After that, they put their guns down and offered us water and cigarettes, but only I accepted; the others refused—they were afraid to take them.

Did they hit you?
Not at all. They didn’t touch us, search us, or take our equipment—cameras, microphones, tape recorders, etc. In fact, one of my colleagues who was carrying a camera deliberately left it on and recorded some footage that was later broadcast.

What happened next?
After a short while, an army commander arrived. I think he was from Greece. He put us in a military vehicle to take us to Limassol. He didn’t tell us his name. There was another person in the car as an escort for added protection. As we were heading to Limassol, people from our villages were spitting at us. It seemed they knew that this particular vehicle usually transported Turks… They knew we were Turks inside and were spitting at us. At one point, we stopped to get some water. There was something like a kiosk, and the people there, as soon as they saw us, approached us and began to get angry and react. They surrounded the car and started shaking it violently to try to overturn it.

Were they soldiers, or were they in civilian clothes?
No, they weren’t soldiers; they were ordinary civilians without weapons. The commander who was with us and his escort started firing into the air to intimidate them. That’s how they managed to drive them away, and we continued on our way. Before we reached Limassol, we made one more stop. I remember there were many women there. They looked angry; they were spitting at us and yelling at us. One of them approached us, shouting. There was a journalist with us who knew a little Greek, and they asked him what she was shouting. My colleague turned to me and said she was saying, “It’s not enough that you raped the women—you’re also cutting off their nipples.”

When did you arrive in Limassol?
We were already very close. After the second stop, a little while later, we arrived at the Limassol police station. There, they put us in separate cells, one in each.

Was it hard for you there?
No, they didn’t bother us. From time to time, I’ve read a lot of lies about our arrest—about alleged abuse and torture… there was no torture. The only “torture” was the food, which was terrible (laughter).

How long were you held in custody?
Five days. They released us on August 22. Two days before they released us, they rounded us up and recorded our names. The United Nations had already been informed about us. When they released us, I contacted my editor-in-chief and told him that if I wrote down what I had seen, they would shut down the newspaper. That’s because I would have written the truth—that they didn’t do anything bad to us, no torture, nothing. But that would have contradicted the propaganda of the time, so my editor-in-chief told me it would be better not to write anything. On our way back to Nicosia, we passed through a very beautiful village. The images stuck with me—the Turks had smashed everything inside and outside the houses. I found a small Greek flag lying on the ground; I picked it up and put it in my bag. But I was afraid; I thought that if Turkish soldiers searched me and found it inside, I’d be in trouble. So I decided to tie it to a piece of wood and place it outside a house. At least that way it wouldn’t be just lying there.

Where did they take you after Limassol?
They took us to the Serai Hotel in Nicosia. That’s where all the Turkish journalists were staying. There were also soldiers there. At one point, I overheard a conversation. They were Turkish soldiers, including a commander. I heard them discussing some Greek Cypriots who had been executed and buried along the Kyrenia-Nicosia road, with asphalt poured over them. We stayed at the Serai for two days. Then a helicopter arrived and took us to Adana, and from there we flew to Ankara.

Kahraman’s testimony

Historical analyst Odysseas Christou, who participated in the interview with Ahmet Kahraman, helped us decipher his account of a mass execution and burial of Greek Cypriots on the road from Kyrenia-Nicosia and to identify the most likely geographical location where such an event could have taken place, if the testimony proves to be accurate.

According to Mr. Christou, in 1974, to travel from Kyrenia to Nicosia, there was an old main road, but there were also several crossings through the Pentadaktylos Mountains.

The most likely of these routes to have been the site of an execution and mass burial of Greek Cypriots by the Turkish army, according to Odysseas Christou, is the one through Agyrta.

As he explained to us, this is a route that starts in Kyrenia, passes through Kioneli and Agyrta, and ends in Nicosia.

As Mr. Christou told us—and he also provided us with related photographic evidence that is being made public for the first time— in Agyrta there was a compound where Greek Cypriot prisoners were held, while right next to it was the police station where the Turkish army conducted interrogations. There are accounts of executions of Greek Cypriots there, as he told us.

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However, regarding the detail in Ahmet Kahraman’s testimony—that when the Turks buried the Greek Cypriots, they poured asphalt over them— Mr. Christou told us that although this detail seems unusual, there is a specific geographical and temporal circumstance that aligns with it. Specifically, this refers to the military airfield at Krini, which was located just one kilometer from the Agyrta depot and station, and during the ceasefire, the Turks carried out asphalt paving work there to extend the runway. This is also evident in the satellite photograph provided to us from the archives of the historical analyst, where the two extension lines are visible in dark color at the runway site, while the yard and the Agyrta station are located a short distance to the east.

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