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Los Angeles Times
October 22, 2004 Friday
Home Edition
The World;
Turkey's Greeks Ponder Their Future, or Possible Lack Thereof;
The key minority faces extinction amid a flight of members and red
tape that stunts its growth.
by Tracy Wilkinson, Times Staff Writer
ISTANBUL, Turkey
As a biologist, Dositeos Anagnostopulos knows a species near
extinction when he sees it.
Anagnostopulos has watched the once-thriving Greek community in this
nation dwindle to a tiny fraction of its former strength. When he
graduated from high school here more than 40 years ago, there were
150,000 ethnic Greeks living in Turkey. They were one of the
country's largest minorities, with roots that predated Christianity.
Today only about 2,000, maybe 2,500, Greeks remain in this
predominantly Muslim country. Roughly half of them are more than 65
years old.
This is how Greeks chronicle their history in numbers: Schools that
no longer exist. Newspaper circulation that has dropped into
oblivion. Families that have vanished into exile.
The question is less one of whether the community is fading -- it
clearly is -- but rather whether it has any future at all.
Istanbul, Turkey's most cosmopolitan city, looks to its diverse
population to reflect its multilayered history and to embody its
multicultural character and charm. Straddling two continents,
Istanbul was always a magnet for a wide range of groups and
communities.
Until the Ottoman conquest of 1453, this city was also the revered
center of the Orthodox Church. One of Istanbul's most treasured
architectural gems is Hagia Sophia, a 6th century Byzantine cathedral
that was converted under Ottoman rule into a mosque but retains many
of its Christian features.
Perhaps more important for ethnic Greeks, Turkey is feverishly
pursuing a bid to join the European Union, and therein may lie hope
for the community's revival. One requirement for EU membership is the
just treatment of minorities. The death of one of the country's
principal Christian minorities would represent a black mark on the
application.
"If Turkey does begin the process of joining the EU and Orthodox
Christians begin to come back, then there may be hope for our
community," Anagnostopulos said. "I'd like to believe that Istanbul's
cultural wealth will succeed in bringing people back and attracting
new people."
Like many ethnic Greeks in Turkey, Anagnostopulos, 62, left to make a
life abroad. He moved to Germany in the late 1960s, worked for a
pharmaceutical firm, had two daughters and retired. Unlike most of
his brethren, however, he decided to return to Istanbul.
He became a priest last year and now works in the Ecumenical
Patriarchate of Constantinople, founded 1,700 years ago and the
nominal head of millions of Orthodox Christians worldwide.
None of Anagnostopulos' siblings live in Turkey anymore, however, and
his daughters have no interest in moving here.
The Greek community in Turkey has declined steadily since World War
II, when the pro-Nazi government imposed a "wealth tax" that
disproportionately penalized Turkey's three constitutionally
recognized minorities: Greeks, Jews and Armenians. Many Greeks were
bankrupted and fled. Bloody riots in 1955 that targeted Greek
businesses, the 1964 cancellation of a law that allowed ethnic Greeks
to hold dual citizenship, the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974 --
all fed a steady exodus.
Today, Greeks say Turkish authorities use bureaucracy to control the
community and stunt its growth. Onerous red tape blocks Greek
institutions such as the Orthodox Church from buying or selling
property. The patriarchate -- the eastern-rite equivalent of the
Vatican -- can employ only Greeks with Turkish citizenship, limiting
the pool of potential priests.
The few remaining Greek schools, all of them hundreds of years old,
teach roughly half their curriculum in Turkish. Yani Demircioglu,
headmaster at one high school, said he has 49 pupils in six grades,
down from nearly 700 in 1962. He said 97% of the school's alumni have
left, mostly for Greece.
Despite notable improvements -- inter-religious dialogue programs are
flourishing, the government has taken initial steps to reform
property rules, and hostilities between Greece and Turkey have eased
in recent years -- many Greeks say they are viewed with suspicion or
as a fifth column.
"Ninety-five percent of the minority are loyal and doing what it
takes to be a loyal citizen: We are well integrated, we speak
Turkish," said Laki Vingas, an ethnic Greek businessman in Istanbul.
"But I'm sorry to say, with some officials, there is still a gap in
confidence."
At one of Istanbul's two surviving Greek-language newspapers, Yani
Theodolou, 70, tracks the decline of the community in circulation
figures. "Down, down, down," he said.
"Every day we publish an obituary," he said, but not too many baptism
notices.
Theodolou and editor-in-chief Andrea Rombopulous run the newspaper,
Echo, virtually single-handedly. Most younger Greeks no longer know
the language well enough to write in it, they say. Theodolou is
convinced the papers will die out eventually, with no one left to
read them.
The two men work in Echo's cluttered offices in a building that
housed, in more bountiful times, an array of sports and social clubs.
Seated in his office, at a large glass-top table that rests on faux
Ionic columns, Rombopulous, 38, recalled that when he graduated from
high school, there were 250 ethnic Greeks in Istanbul his age. It was
not difficult to find a wife within the community and to go on to
university.
The prospects for his 5-year-old son are quite different. There are
only three other Greek children his age.
Still, Rombopulous is a rare voice of cautious optimism. He notes
that Greeks almost disappeared following the Ottoman conquest, and
the community only began to grow again in the 1700s, when the sultan
invited shipbuilders and other professionals to live in the empire.
At least 50 Greek-owned businesses operate in Turkey, he noted, up
from just three or four a decade ago. Each business brings a new
Greek family, and if the EU admits Turkey, the firms are poised to
expand and capitalize on all the legal guarantees and ethical
practices that the union's standards suggest.
"All signs now indicate we will die out," Rombopulous said. "But I am
not a pessimist. There were times our community was even smaller than
it is today. I know of many Greek businesses just waiting for Turkey
to join the EU. Investments, more families. I believe things may
improve and change."
GRAPHIC: PHOTO: IN ISTANBUL: Yani Theodolou of Echo, a Greek
newspaper, tracks the community's decline in falling circulation
figures. PHOTOGRAPHER: Aris Chatzistefanou For The Times
October 22, 2004 Friday
Home Edition
The World;
Turkey's Greeks Ponder Their Future, or Possible Lack Thereof;
The key minority faces extinction amid a flight of members and red
tape that stunts its growth.
by Tracy Wilkinson, Times Staff Writer
ISTANBUL, Turkey
As a biologist, Dositeos Anagnostopulos knows a species near
extinction when he sees it.
Anagnostopulos has watched the once-thriving Greek community in this
nation dwindle to a tiny fraction of its former strength. When he
graduated from high school here more than 40 years ago, there were
150,000 ethnic Greeks living in Turkey. They were one of the
country's largest minorities, with roots that predated Christianity.
Today only about 2,000, maybe 2,500, Greeks remain in this
predominantly Muslim country. Roughly half of them are more than 65
years old.
This is how Greeks chronicle their history in numbers: Schools that
no longer exist. Newspaper circulation that has dropped into
oblivion. Families that have vanished into exile.
The question is less one of whether the community is fading -- it
clearly is -- but rather whether it has any future at all.
Istanbul, Turkey's most cosmopolitan city, looks to its diverse
population to reflect its multilayered history and to embody its
multicultural character and charm. Straddling two continents,
Istanbul was always a magnet for a wide range of groups and
communities.
Until the Ottoman conquest of 1453, this city was also the revered
center of the Orthodox Church. One of Istanbul's most treasured
architectural gems is Hagia Sophia, a 6th century Byzantine cathedral
that was converted under Ottoman rule into a mosque but retains many
of its Christian features.
Perhaps more important for ethnic Greeks, Turkey is feverishly
pursuing a bid to join the European Union, and therein may lie hope
for the community's revival. One requirement for EU membership is the
just treatment of minorities. The death of one of the country's
principal Christian minorities would represent a black mark on the
application.
"If Turkey does begin the process of joining the EU and Orthodox
Christians begin to come back, then there may be hope for our
community," Anagnostopulos said. "I'd like to believe that Istanbul's
cultural wealth will succeed in bringing people back and attracting
new people."
Like many ethnic Greeks in Turkey, Anagnostopulos, 62, left to make a
life abroad. He moved to Germany in the late 1960s, worked for a
pharmaceutical firm, had two daughters and retired. Unlike most of
his brethren, however, he decided to return to Istanbul.
He became a priest last year and now works in the Ecumenical
Patriarchate of Constantinople, founded 1,700 years ago and the
nominal head of millions of Orthodox Christians worldwide.
None of Anagnostopulos' siblings live in Turkey anymore, however, and
his daughters have no interest in moving here.
The Greek community in Turkey has declined steadily since World War
II, when the pro-Nazi government imposed a "wealth tax" that
disproportionately penalized Turkey's three constitutionally
recognized minorities: Greeks, Jews and Armenians. Many Greeks were
bankrupted and fled. Bloody riots in 1955 that targeted Greek
businesses, the 1964 cancellation of a law that allowed ethnic Greeks
to hold dual citizenship, the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974 --
all fed a steady exodus.
Today, Greeks say Turkish authorities use bureaucracy to control the
community and stunt its growth. Onerous red tape blocks Greek
institutions such as the Orthodox Church from buying or selling
property. The patriarchate -- the eastern-rite equivalent of the
Vatican -- can employ only Greeks with Turkish citizenship, limiting
the pool of potential priests.
The few remaining Greek schools, all of them hundreds of years old,
teach roughly half their curriculum in Turkish. Yani Demircioglu,
headmaster at one high school, said he has 49 pupils in six grades,
down from nearly 700 in 1962. He said 97% of the school's alumni have
left, mostly for Greece.
Despite notable improvements -- inter-religious dialogue programs are
flourishing, the government has taken initial steps to reform
property rules, and hostilities between Greece and Turkey have eased
in recent years -- many Greeks say they are viewed with suspicion or
as a fifth column.
"Ninety-five percent of the minority are loyal and doing what it
takes to be a loyal citizen: We are well integrated, we speak
Turkish," said Laki Vingas, an ethnic Greek businessman in Istanbul.
"But I'm sorry to say, with some officials, there is still a gap in
confidence."
At one of Istanbul's two surviving Greek-language newspapers, Yani
Theodolou, 70, tracks the decline of the community in circulation
figures. "Down, down, down," he said.
"Every day we publish an obituary," he said, but not too many baptism
notices.
Theodolou and editor-in-chief Andrea Rombopulous run the newspaper,
Echo, virtually single-handedly. Most younger Greeks no longer know
the language well enough to write in it, they say. Theodolou is
convinced the papers will die out eventually, with no one left to
read them.
The two men work in Echo's cluttered offices in a building that
housed, in more bountiful times, an array of sports and social clubs.
Seated in his office, at a large glass-top table that rests on faux
Ionic columns, Rombopulous, 38, recalled that when he graduated from
high school, there were 250 ethnic Greeks in Istanbul his age. It was
not difficult to find a wife within the community and to go on to
university.
The prospects for his 5-year-old son are quite different. There are
only three other Greek children his age.
Still, Rombopulous is a rare voice of cautious optimism. He notes
that Greeks almost disappeared following the Ottoman conquest, and
the community only began to grow again in the 1700s, when the sultan
invited shipbuilders and other professionals to live in the empire.
At least 50 Greek-owned businesses operate in Turkey, he noted, up
from just three or four a decade ago. Each business brings a new
Greek family, and if the EU admits Turkey, the firms are poised to
expand and capitalize on all the legal guarantees and ethical
practices that the union's standards suggest.
"All signs now indicate we will die out," Rombopulous said. "But I am
not a pessimist. There were times our community was even smaller than
it is today. I know of many Greek businesses just waiting for Turkey
to join the EU. Investments, more families. I believe things may
improve and change."
GRAPHIC: PHOTO: IN ISTANBUL: Yani Theodolou of Echo, a Greek
newspaper, tracks the community's decline in falling circulation
figures. PHOTOGRAPHER: Aris Chatzistefanou For The Times