Following the rejection of the Annan Plan, in an ironic twist of history, the Cypriot flag became, for the first time, a symbol that spoke to the hearts of Greek Cypriot nationalists
In the summer of 1959, as the transition from British colonial rule to the Republic of Cyprus was being finalized, the question of the new state’s flag arose. The fundamental principle of the international order—which stipulates that every recognized state must have its own flag—had to be upheld. There is evidence that British authorities, following instructions from outgoing Governor Hugh Foot, drafted proposals for a flag featuring a map of Cyprus and symbols in neutral colors. Turkish Cypriot artist Ismet Güneş appears to have finalized it based on this concept, while also designing the emblem of the Republic.
On August 16, 1960, Cypriots—who had been accustomed for decades to the Greek and Turkish flags, respectively—saw the flag of the new state raised for the first time. It was a symbol that signified independence, but it lacked strong emotional resonance. Equally awkward was the people’s relationship with the anniversary of independence itself. The Constitution, after all, did not provide for a national anniversary, but recognized the right of the two communities to celebrate their respective Greek and Turkish national holidays.
ΣΧΕΤΙΚΑ ΑΡΘΡΑ
Two silent anniversaries passed, and on July 11, 1963, the Council of Ministers decided to designate October 1 as “a day of rest and celebration of Independence,” instead of August 16. Archbishop Makarios received congratulations from dignitaries, in the presence of Vice President Kuchuk, at the Presidential Palace, while the general public remained utterly indifferent. Later, intercommunal clashes and the withdrawal of Turkish Cypriots from government offices effectively sidelined the anniversary. The Cypriot flag, which remained under the “management” of the Greek Cypriot community—along with the state apparatus—was displayed only on necessary occasions. Anyone who displayed it unnecessarily risked being branded as anti-Greek.
A shift began after the tragedy of 1974. The co-opting of Greek symbols by the coup plotters, but above all the need for a symbol that would affirm the survival of the Republic of Cyprus, made the Cypriot flag more appealing in the eyes of Greek Cypriots. The first efforts to promote it were made by the Neo-Cypriot Association a few months after the invasion. Later, at Makarios’s funeral in the summer of 1977, a moment rich in symbolism unfolded. Makarios’s cousin, Cleopatra Pagyata, placed the Cypriot flag next to the Greek flag covering the coffin of the late leader in the Church of St. John, where it had been laid out for public viewing. Despite objections from Greek Ambassador Michalis Dountas, the flag remained there. In fact, this initiative set a precedent that was followed at many subsequent funerals of Greek Cypriot government officials: half the coffin covered with the Greek flag and half with the Cypriot flag.
October 1 was reinstated as an anniversary in 1977, shortly after Makarios’s death, during the presidency of Spyros Kyprianou, and in 1979 it was designated a school holiday. The context was entirely different from that of 1960. Independence, which had once been viewed by many as inadequate in relation to national aspirations, now seemed invaluable in the face of the occupation and de facto partition. The Cypriot flag now took on a powerful political and symbolic significance. The Makarios Right embraced it, while the Left gradually imbued it with the significance of a symbol that united Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots. However, the idealized scenario in which members of the Cypriot communities honored the same flag en masse and spontaneously never actually existed. Meanwhile, the Turkish Cypriots turned their backs on it, forming their own separatist entity and its symbols…
Perhaps the most powerful moment for the Cypriot flag and the once-derided “Zurich independence” came in 2004, following the rejection of the Annan Plan. For many Greek Cypriots, the existing Republic of Cyprus—with the Turkish Cypriots absent and its control over its territory curtailed since 1974—took on new significance. That of a bulwark against a new political prospect they considered far too risky: a bizonal, bicommunal federation. Thus, in an ironic twist of history, the Cypriot flag became, for the first time, a symbol that spoke to the hearts of Greek Cypriot nationalists as well.
The history of the Cypriot flag is, evidently, a journey of constant reinterpretation. It began as an unremarkable symbol only to later become associated with national survival, the blessed land, Cyprus-centrism and reconciliation, as well as the defense of the Republic of Cyprus against solutions that would lead to its transformation. To this day, the flag of the homeland continues to evoke symbolism. It is interesting, in fact, that each new meaning does not supersede the previous one. To a large extent, all of its meanings coexist and can emerge depending on the circumstances.
