A dark room

British to agree as well. But it’s still too early to recount this particular chapter of history. My objective was to find out what had taken place in 1974. In one of those meetings, I had the unique opportunity to speak to that other leading figure of 1974, Henry Kissinger. This was not the first time I had tried to talk to him. The first time he refused. The second time he accepted, but asked for a fee of $50,000. Antonis Theocharis, the CEO of MEGA Channel at the time, gave the green light. He had been a retired admiral and could understand the significance of the project. I wrote Kissinger a letter accepting his offer, but it appears to have been a ruse: he obviously thought we would have said no, and refused yet again. At some point I asked a friend to invite me to a dinner in Washington DC, on the occasion of a book launch I knew Kissinger would attend. My friend was kind enough to oblige me. I sat at the same table with Kissinger, and between us was seated a lady who had absolutely no inkling about—or connection with—Greece or the Cyprus dispute. As soon as Kissinger realized who I was, he launched into a tirade, whose gist was: “For the past two thousand years, you Greeks have never acknowledged a single mistake, and you’ve found in me the perfect scapegoat for everything that happened in Cyprus.” The lady was unnerved and leaned toward me to ask me discreetly: “What’s gotten into Dr. Kissinger?” Because I’m not a quitter, no matter how difficult the task I’ve set for myself, I kept trying. The late Giannos Kranidiotis wrote Kissinger a letter to ask him to grant me an audience. When we finally met, he told me that the United States were unable to avert an invasion for a third time—after 1964 and 1967—and urged me to read the sections of his book about Cyprus. He stressed that he “had nothing against Makarios 3 ” and that “Greece should have been a little more flexible and extracted a better deal from Turkey.” A few years later, in the summer of 2004, I met him again in Washington, DC. He skirted around the issue, but was nervous because his brother wanted to come to Greece to watch the Olympic Games. He was afraid that he would become the target of a terrorist attack. Me and two more Greeks who were present assured him that Greece is an extremely safe country. He wasn’t convinced and insisted that it would be dangerous for his brother to visit because of his surname. Αt some point I couldn’t restrain myself, so I jokingly asked him: “May I ask you something? Does your brother look a lot like you?” He said, “Yes, quite a lot.” “Maybe he shouldn’t go, then,” I retorted, and got for my trouble a classic Kissinger smirk, along with this reply: “Maybe you’re right. I’ll tell him not to go.” The last time I saw him he seemed more amenable: “You never give up, do you?” he said. We arranged to discuss the matter over breakfast the next morning. I didn’t sleep all night, going over all the questions I had for him, trying to make sure I wouldn’t forget anything. I went down to the breakfast hall. I went to a table and sat down to wait. A while later his aide came and told me, “Dr. Kissinger won’t be able to make it,” and left. That was the conclusion of an effort that had started 25 years earlier. While writing this book, I came to understand his position. I don’t think it would be easy for him to defend his stance concerning the Military Junta and Turkey at the time of the invasion in Cyprus. His blatant cynicism, combined with his arrogant politicking, resulted in Greece and Cyprus paying a terrible price. His realpolitik credo might serve as an excuse, but it is not 3 Makarios III, Archbishop of Cyprus at the time of the invasion. (Translator’s note)