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Writer's pictureTy Tzavrinou

The Price of Blood

The older I become the more I favor my Yiayia. I’m no longer just talking about appearance. Short in stature and fierce in temper, with an overwhelming need to feed both people and stray animals, with a rebellious and stubborn streak that breaks cultural expectations, it isn’t hard to see the similarities. Generations from now will call us revolutionists.

I’ve been reading the Cypriot news over a mug of strongly brewed tea. The island’s news is of another disturbance, another setback, and more disgruntled talks about nationalism. More distractions, so it seems, from something that really matters: the right to be oneself, and the right to be oneself wholly without prejudice. Especially in one’s own country of birth.

I read the news while shaking my head back and forth – mostly with annoyance – wondering where everything went wrong, even though I already possess the answer to such a loaded question. Being compartmentalized by different racial groups, each grain of my being dissimilarly unique, often means that my patriotism can overlap. My identity is that of a kaleidoscope. A pretty one, with a large glass eye in the middle of an auburn frame. Or perhaps you’d think of me as a steaming pot, capturing spoons of seasonings from different pouches. Being a little of this, and some of that, and a little more of this, but mostly that.

I could list all the incredible parts of the world that have merged their DNA profiles to create me, but today I’m going to specifically focus on my Cypriot ancestry. Cyprus is a small island situated between Turkey and Egypt, spanning the sun-dwelled ports of Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, and Israel. It’s known for paradisical landscapes, warm hospitality, great food, and historical sightseeing. The Cypriot culture is an incredibly rich one; we’re the proud ancestors of an extraordinary nation, decorated for our survival and perseverance, and antiquated origins. We’re farming and desert people, raised within copper lands fringed by translucent seas. We’re tribes of warriors, oracles, and tellers of fertility. Home to Goddess Aphrodite, we’re sentient beings, passionate and bracing, poetic and musical.

While Cyprus geographically belongs to Western Asia and the Middle East, this Mediterranean island politically belongs to Europe too. The island - one of the smallest in the world – has spent time in the arms of war-hungry oppressors. Sadly, this means that this otherwise beautiful island has been ripped and torn into two halves: the Greek half (Southern Cyprus) and the Turkish half (Northern Cyprus).

In 2004, the southern part of Cyprus joined the EU (European Union) and was suddenly thrust into a contemporary republic where East meets West. Yet, war and colonization aren’t the only pitfalls that Cyprus contends with. We have bigger octopus to grill. Like with all corners of the world where misogyny thrives, parts of the Mediterranean, West Asia, and the Middle East are systemically misogynistic. On the face of it, Cypriot girls and women share the same social and welfare rights as Cypriot boys and men, such as rights to education, voting, and social security (note that I didn’t say equal pay or equal professional opportunities). But is this an imbalanced illusion intended to blindside Cypriot women? To keep us quiet, distracted, and compliant from how male-centric Cyprus really is? The short answer is yes.

Being part of the EU, Cyprus has access to a progressive framework that outlines humanitarian rights, and more specifically, women’s rights. This advanced structure of civil liberties is more than a mere guidebook, but is anyone paying attention to its articles? There’s an undercurrent that suckles beneath the even glass sea that surrounds Cyprus; an overlooked whirlpool that’s rooted in tradition and Orthodoxy. Something which challenges the EU’s well-intended agenda more successfully than I care to admit.

This old civilization, risen from the beginning of time, is steeped in patriarchalism. Women who are conditioned to marry and bear children young, women prepared to not oppose their husbands or mothers-in-law, and women taught that they aren’t worthy of validation, protection, and justice in the face of domestic and sexual violence, or sexual and reproductive rights. And you can go ahead and forget about the women who love other women, or the trans community, or anyone fitting the alphabet soup. All things non-heterosexual are mere figments of imagination, conjured for campfire stories recounted in old mythologies.

Before I’m met with an onslaught of defense, such as Cyprus being a country that is moving towards progression (an example of this is the legalization of Civil Unions for same-sex couples) the moving part is ever so sloooow. Think snails. Then think lazy snails. Then think lazy snails distracted by loukoumades. The pace toward progression is simply not good enough. That’s the point. Cypriot women – Greek, Turkish, Assyrian, Persian, Egyptian, Armenian, and all else – have endured ethnonationalism, militarism, and prejudice since, well, forever. Despite such extensive oppression, Cypriot women have remained instrumental in the social and economic development of the island’s conservation, which is understandably a remarkable feat. However, they’re also largely responsible for the preservation of our socio-cultural values, which has left Cypriot women both voiceless and abandoned by a lack of inclusion and advancement. High-five with one hand and thumbs down with the other.

Despite Cyprus obtaining independence from the United Kingdom, Turkey, and Greece, restoration from Cyprus’ conflict has been arduous. Therefore, with the spoon burrowed deep into the watery soup of ‘colonization aftermath,’ there never seems to be an appropriate time to tackle other imperative matters. You know, matters that continue to marginalize women. Sure, Cypriot women are more empowered today than ever before. Yet, with few dogmatic and independent feminist organizations and identifiable representatives, the rights of Cypriot women continue to be threatened. Feminism is still a dirty word in Cyprus. It lingers on the lips as a filthy slur. It’s a word that sounds aloud like disobedient, terroristic, un-Cypriot, and is considered as little more than a humorous attempt to challenge the great authority of man. If that isn’t as medieval as a society can get, then I don’t know what is.

Despite Cyprus remaining a divided society, which is problematic when the objective is to seek equality for all Cypriot women, we must be conscientious in confronting oppressive gender forms. You know the ones, those that neatly weave what we miscall culture. Our culture should be celebrated as more than reinforced stereotypes of heterosexual domesticity. Confronting heteronormative and cis-normative lifestyles does not negatively impact those who willingly choose to be wives and mothers. Like, no one is coming for the domestic goddesses, ok? This isn’t about erasing women who find their fulfillment within a life of domesticity, but it is about emancipating the women who don’t fit into that narrative. It’s about the women who demand to exist within their own exceptional identity. In short, it’s about women who want the same rights as their male counterparts. Equally, it’s about generating a society that incorporates LGBTQIA+ initiatives. And you know what? These things are easily achievable once you stop becoming sidetracked by misdirecting conversations regarding nationalism.

Implementing a radical approach to feminist politics isn’t necessarily an easy pursuit. I never mean to infer otherwise. However, one thing I do know about Cypriot women – whatever part of the island you’re from – is that we’re the embodiment of strength. We’ve endured. We’ve suffered. We’ve risen. We’ve been the very institution that’s held Cyprus together throughout all its years long. We’re the women of uncontested power, carrying the nation, traditions, and families upon our bare backs. We’re the women who survived, and who shall forever survive, and we’re the women most formidable. Women most defiant, such as my extraordinary Yiayia, Angeliki, who was born before her time, and who wasn’t only the face of feminism but was the entire agency of feminism.

The answer lies within us, as does the aptitude to push forth with our agenda of intersectionality; abolishing all hierarchies that exclude Cypriots from living an unrestricted life, regardless of ethnicity, gender, sexuality, and all other biased classifications. This is the future of Cyprus – our future.

So, what are we waiting for?


Artwork by Alexey Balin


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