The Tampa Tribune, July 2, 1995, Sunday, Pg. 6

American man yearns to know fate of son missing in Cyprus

Seven years ago Costas Kassapis went to Washington to testify before the Congressional Human Rights Caucus. Kassapis had been an American citizen for 29 years at the time of his testimony in April 1988. In a voice choked with emotion, he explained that in 1974 he was visiting his native island of Cyprus with his 17-year-old son, Andrew.

It was summer and Costas wanted his American-born son to see the land of his father's birth and to meet his many Cypriot relatives during his summer vacation. Straining to keep his tears in check, he went on to say that he had not seen Andrew since that time.

Now, 21 years after that fateful visit, Andrew Kassapis and four other American citizens of Greek-Cypriot descent are still numbered among the 1,619 "disappeared" persons who were taken prisoner when Turkey invaded the island in July and August of 1974. These five Americans have been identified as Kyriacos Leondiou, Chris Livertos, Socrates Kapsouris, Kyriacos Sophocleous and Andrew Kassapis, who, if alive, would now be 38 years old.

Andrew's Kafkaesque nightmare began on Aug. 20, 1974, when Turkish soldiers dragged him from his family's home for no apparent reason. The last thing his father was able to do for him was to press his American passport into his handsas he was being led away. Since that day, Costas Kassapis has not been able to get an answer to this simple question: Is my son Andrew alive? Nor have the relatives of the other four Americans, as well as the more than 1,600 other "missing" Cypriots (including 116 women and children) presumed to be rotting away in Turkish jails since 1974.

Ever since the invasion, the Turks have denied having any information about these "missing" persons and have said they are probably dead. "Probably" doesn't satisfy Costas Kassapis, who says: "I will never stop searching for my boy."

Kassapis blames the U.S. government for not demanding the release of his son and the four other Americans. Unfortunately, their names are not as well-knownas those of Terry Anderson and William Buckley, nor has their situation enjoyed the glare of publicity that helped the Iran hostages obtain their freedom.

Kassapis wonders what U.S. reaction would have been had these Americans not been made to "disappear" by a country deemed "friendly" by American policy makers. "If communists had kidnapped my boy, America would have sent the Navy to save him. My boy is American. This country should do something."

Meanwhile, Turkey continues to deny having any knowledge at all concerning the fate of these "missing" persons, in spite of the hard evidence to the contrary, such as:

- Red Cross lists including the names of "missing" persons compiled during

visits to Turkish detention centers.

- Eyewitness accounts attesting that a large number of the "missing" were

arrested after the cessation of hostilities.

- Sworn testimonies regarding actual sightings of the "missing" in Turkish

prisons.

- Photographic evidence showing identifiable "missing" persons in the

custody of Turkish troops.

- Messages smuggled out of prisons by "missing" persons after their arrest.

In Andrew Kassapis' case, the very names and whereabouts of his abductors are known.

Turkey's intransigence in defying worldwide public opinion and countless U.N. resolutions requiring that the Turks remove some 35,000 occupying troops from the northern portion of Cyprus under Turkish domination since 1974 has, by now, become legend.

This matters, of course, to Costas Kassapis because Cyprus is the land of his birth. What matters more, however, is that Turkey adhere finally to the humanitarian norms set forth in U.N., Red Cross, Amnesty International and Council of Europe resolutions deploring Turkey's behavior in refusing to account for those persons its government continues to arrogantly refer to as "missing."

It is from Sophocles' tragedy "Antigone" that we learn of the terrible consequences to humankind brought on by the failure of those in power to observe the common decencies that separate us from brutes. It is for the observance of these decencies that Costas Kassapis cries out in anguish: "If my son is dead, let me bury him. If he is alive, let me hope for his freedom. Is this too much to ask?"