BRITISH
BRITISH

In the favorite bar of the RAF pilots in the village of Cyprus under the UK rule: "We didn't start the fire"

Updated

When the drone exploded at the base, Makis was in his pub finishing up closing. "We heard the sirens and then a big explosion. Nobody alerted us about anything," he tells 'Crónica'. He speaks of the psychosis of a war that still feels distant

Makis, owner of Swan Akrotiri, in his pub.
Makis, owner of Swan Akrotiri, in his pub.Martín Mucha

Some believe in the prophecies of The Simpsons with the faith of a believer. Others find them in certain songs... In the void Swan Akrotiri, the favorite bar of the RAF pilots, resonates "We Didn't Start the Fire" with anthem-like volume. Sitting at the table is Makis, owner and with several generations here. His father is a sort of head waiter. He was closing his pub... "We heard the sirens and then a big explosion. Nobody alerted us about anything," he tells Crónica. He speaks of a before and an after.

"We didn't start the fire / It was always burning since the world's been turning... No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it...".

"My grandfather, my dad, my mum, and even my brother have worked at the base. We've always had a very good relationship with the British," he explains. That relationship has shaped the economy of the village for decades. "Our business exists thanks to that coexistence. We were never afraid." Akrotiri has been in a peculiar situation since Cyprus gained independence in 1960. The British base is part of the Sovereign Base Areas (SBA), territories under UK sovereignty that remained after the end of colonial rule. The result is a complex legal reality: the residents live in Cyprus, use the euro, and pay taxes to the Cypriot state, but many decisions depend on the British administration of the base.

"Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle / Baseball in California / Starkweather's killings / Thalidomide's children..."

It's two worlds in one. And he experiences it from a privileged stage. From his terrace, at the end of Queen Elizabeth RAF Street, the immense base can be seen. Not only around 1,500 military personnel live there, but also their families, who have at times doubled that number. The Swan's delivery drivers are among the few authorized to enter. An advantage and also a responsibility. "If you commit an infraction, even for speeding, you could end up paying a fine to the police of the British sovereign areas," he explains. "And if you commit a crime, you are judged by a court on the base."

"U-2, Syngman Rhee / Payola and Kennedy / Chubby Checker, Psychosis..."

In its lyrics, Joel's 1989 song seems prophetic and perfectly ubiquitous. RAF Akrotiri reportedly houses U-2 reconnaissance planes for intelligence missions. And if there's one word that reigns here and around, it's the one that gives the title to Hitchcock's movie about Norman Bates... Makis doesn't want to talk about politics, that's for others. But he does talk about the feelings after the drone attack. "Neither the RAF nor our Government informed us. When you don't have information, you panic". That's what happened. Inside and outside the base.

"Political sex scandals... / What else can I say?"

He also wants to talk about the everyday risks. About their future. "It's difficult for the children. When they don't have their normal routine, they get nervous... And it's not easy for the elderly either. Some have to go to the hospital or take medication." The economic impact has been immediate. The village's restaurants largely depend on the base's workers and families. "In this area, there are more than ten restaurants. Over a hundred families depend on them. If this situation continues, some will have to close." The Swan has gone from being packed to questioning its fate. He emphasizes that there is nothing warlike outside the magnificent British sovereign enclave. Here, they disconnect from espionage and flight maneuvers. "Soldiers in uniform don't come. They are families who come to dine, watch football, or have a drink. But when the sirens sound, people get scared. Imagine having dinner with your children and hearing the alarm."

He feels forgotten. "A week has passed, and no one has come to say to us: 'We know your business is affected, how can we help?'". Despite what happened, he insists on the pacifist nature of the island. "Cyprus is not involved. We don't want wars. Our country already suffered one... The war is in Iran, thousands of kilometers away."

"...Palestine / Terror in the airlines / Ayatollahs in Iran"

"My wife has relatives who became refugees when Turkey occupied the northern part of the island. My grandfather, in 1974, when the invasion began, hosted 14 families in his small house here in Akrotiri... This place was considered the safest part of the island back then. And it will remain so." He won't leave. "It's not about bravery. It's about your life. We were born here, and we will stay here. No matter what happens."

Step by step, the military personnel return. They can be identified by their military bearing. The camera on the table puts them on alert. He puts it back in its case, and they resume their conversation. The Swan comes back to life. They say the best Angus burger around is served here. The soldiers devour it... The song ends. It was written not as a prophecy, but to remind that each generation has its conflicts. That attempts are made to return. Like a fighter jet to its aircraft carrier. Makis goes back to his tasks. "Even if the restaurant closes, we will still be here. This is our village." It's their resilience.

"We didn't start the fire / But when we are gone, it will still be burning / And it will continue, and continue, and continue".