THIS WAS the year of elections in Cyprus, marked successively by parliamentary elections, archbishopric elections, and municipal elections.
Only the Church elections will not be soon forgotten. And they will be remembered, at least if the historical account is honest, with a sigh and a sardonic laugh.
To appreciate the humour of the 2006 archbishopric elections, one must have a bleak undercurrent running through one’s soul, an ingrained sense of life’s perpetual hypocrisy, a capacity to chortle over corruption, lies, and double-dealings – especially when painted with a veneer of brotherly love and piety – and a rejection of, or at least resignation over, the belief that God is to be found in the gilded altar of the Church.
It was decided in May last year, after a Greater Synod meeting in Switzerland, to hold elections on September 24, 2006 to replace the resident Archbishop, who was incapacitated due to advanced stages of Alzheimer’s.
With its cornucopia of funds, the Kykkos Bishopric conducted the most flamboyant campaigning. During one of his rallies, three jumbo screens flanked the stage, while a giant poster of the Kykkos Bishop hung from the ceiling.
“O, Greek Cypriot nation,” boomed the Kykkos Bishop’s voice as he stepped up to the pedestal. “Tonight, I feel a captive of your immense love.”
In another speech, he said that those who question the work of the Kykkos monastery and the Kykkos Bishop (he often refers to himself in third person) are “deeply shrouded in darkness” and “parked in a basement of filthy mud.”
During a television interview the Kykkos Bishop was asked whether it was true he had in the past dyed his beard. “Yes, it’s true,” he replied. “I dyed my beard. But what matters is what a person has inside him, not the exterior.”
The Cyprus archbishopric elections are complicated, involving several rounds of voting and two separate ballots, one of representatives elected by the population and the other of 33 ex officio clerics chosen by the Synod. To become Archbishop one must get an absolute majority in both ballots.
The Limassol Bishop won 48 per cent of the popular vote, the Kykkos Bishop 42 per cent, and the Paphos Bishop less than six per cent. Despite garnering over a third of the vote, this was a humiliating defeat for Kykkos, whose liberal donations had won him the support of the best-supported football clubs, many TV stations, most newspapers and every major political party, including communist AKEL.
The Kykkos Bishop at once complained about voter irregularities and illegalities, claiming the results were invalid. But the Synod tossed his complaints, prompting him to rage with classic Kykkotic poesy about the “consummation of a crime” and the “slaughter and rape of truth”.
Just before the vote, the Paphos Bishop urged people to cast their ballot “so that we may show, here and abroad, that we are a democratic nation and respect one another.”
Ironically, because no one had an absolute majority in the two ballots, the Paphos Bishop was in a strong position. Both of his rivals needed his votes to knock the other out.
So the night before the final day of voting, the Paphos Bishop struck a deal with the Limassol Bishop to “trade votes” in the two ballots to proceed to the final round of voting, knocking the Kykkos Bishop out of the election. And so it was.
The alliance, which a Kykkos spokesman referred to as a “dark conspiracy to oust the Kykkos bishopric,” prompted the outraged Kykkos Bishop to order his representatives to leave the Archbishopric, though they were supposed to remain and vote in the final round for either the Limassol or Paphos bishop.
With the Kykkos voters gone, the Limassol Bishop was guaranteed victory. Outside the Archbishopric hundreds of his supporters were already celebrating. But as acting head of the Church, the Paphos Bishop called an extraordinary session of the Holy Synod, where it was decided to postpone the election until 4pm the next day, despite it being a violation of the Church charter.
The news prompted an outcry among the gathered Limassol Bishop supporters outside, who accused the Paphos Bishop of hijacking the election by illegally postponing the vote to give him time to bribe the Kykkos Bishop for his support.
The Paphos Bishop defended the postponement by claiming it would have been “unfair” to hold the vote without the participation of the Kykkos Bishop supporters, adding that he saw no harm in waiting another day.
Later that afternoon, the eliminated Kykkos Bishop made his famous brotherly declaration that it was now his turn to “fry the fish on the lips of my two holy brothers” and said that they must now come to him and meet his demands if they desired his votes.
The Kykkos Bishop, who had staged a massive electoral campaign and had just hours ago stormed out of the Archbishopric in a fury, then made a statement that should go down as one of his all time memorable quotes:
“I state that I felt a relief that I did not pass to the third stage, because I will remain here at the Kykkos Monastery, which I consider the highest battlement from which I can continue my work towards my community and my country.”
The next morning the Paphos Bishop signed an agreement with the Kykkos Bishop in which he promised to make certain changes in the Church (“for the good of the Church” of course) in exchange for the votes of the Kykkos supporters.
The double-alliance – first with his one rival, then with the other one whom he had ousted – worked. All of the Kykkos supporters and clerics dutifully obeyed their command and the Bishop of Paphos, who had received less than six per cent of the popular vote, became Archbishop Chrysostomos II.
The bulk of the people who were outside the Archbishopric when the news were announced were supporters of the Limassol Bishop, who has always drawn the most devoted followers.
It was not a cheerful scene. The enthronement ceremony was postponed for a week for fear of public unrest. But in his usual serene manner, the Limassol Bishop accepted the results without protest.
After being elected, the new Archbishop thanked his “Holy brothers, especially the Kykkos Bishop and the Limassol Bishop because… I was elected with their votes.”
He later claimed that the document he signed at the Kykkos monastery was non-binding and merely consisted of “suggestions”. And he managed to hold a straight face when he said: “the people have the last word in the Church elections.”
n For an extended version of this piece go to: www.fourthnight.org
