It’s a tough time to be running a ministry, and in just a few weeks Praxoulla Antoniadou has risen admirably to the challenge. But, as Theo Panayides discovers, she’s very careful what she says
“I’m politicised,” says Praxoulla Antoniadou right at the end of our interview, almost by way of apology, when I mention that we didn’t really talk very much about her personal life. In fact, that’s putting it mildly. Even though she’s candid and accessible, and I’m lucky to have met with her at all – even in the dog-days of August, our interview ended up being rescheduled from morning to late afternoon as her working day filled up with meetings – much of that interview is given over to justifying government positions and mouthing the fine-sounding platitudes that are so much a part of political discourse. Once or twice, our back-and-forth edges close to the surreal. ‘Where are you from?’ I ask. “I am not a refugee, if this is the question,” comes the reply. Actually no, I just wondered where she was from. She’s politicised, all right.
In a way, it’s inevitable. Since August 5, when President Christofias carried out a reshuffle of his Cabinet in the wake of the explosion at Mari, Praxoulla Antoniadou has been Minister of Commerce, Industry and Tourism – and it’s no surprise that a new Minister would be rather self-conscious about what she says, especially when her party affiliation isn’t the same as the President’s (or most of her Cabinet colleagues’). “I participate in the government not in a personal capacity,” she points out; “It’s in my capacity as president of the United Democrats,” the small, liberal party she’s led since 2007. Her new role calls for political skills on many levels: she has to fit in seamlessly, yet also act as a bridge between the government and her own party. Easy to see why she’s careful not to stand out too much, casting herself as primarily a mouthpiece.
Yet it’s still a bit frustrating. It’s always frustrating when you try to talk to politicians, especially in Cyprus. Maybe the media are to blame, journalists taking such delight in trapping political figures that our leaders are forced into defensive mode, spouting indigestible formulas instead of talking normally. Thus, for instance, Antoniadou doesn’t just mention the Cyprus problem – a central issue for herself and her party – she spells out the entire spiel about “reunification of the country through an agreement between the leaders of the two communities, on the basis of the agreed framework of a bi-zonal, bicommunal federation with political equality as defined in relevant UN Resolutions”. It’s as though politicians constantly speak with an eye to the future, worried that someone years from now will hold up a copy of this or that newspaper, read out their quote and say, with a touch of j’accuse: ‘You forgot to say “bi-zonal”!’. The effect is deadening – like they’re not really invested in the issues, simply taking refuge in the tried and tested.
It’s even more frustrating since Antoniadou clearly is invested in the issues. She has to be, or she’d never have joined a small party like the United Democrats – President George Vassiliou’s old party – which hasn’t even had a seat in Parliament since 2006. If you’re an ambitious career politician you’re better off loitering around the fringes of the big parties, trying to curry favour and maybe make the Party list – but the new Minister is a true believer, jolted into action when Vassiliou lost his bid for re-election in 1993. Up till then, she says, she’d “felt comfortable that things were in the right hands, the country was moving towards the EU and all that. But suddenly, when I saw that this type of President lost the elections, I sensed that something is going wrong here”. Suddenly she realised that “people who were concerned about the country should be more involved”. She joined the nascent United Democrats as a founder member, rose to the Executive Secretariat and became party leader in the midst of a crisis, after they’d lost their sole MP. “It’s only at difficult times that people remember women, this has to be noted!” she adds with a laugh.
Does that explain why our new reshuffled Cabinet has three women Ministers, a record for Cyprus? Then again, to admit that would be to admit that we’re in a crisis, which the government is loath to do – and Antoniadou duly trots out some reassuring figures. Tourist arrivals were up 11 per cent in the first half of 2011, while revenue from tourism was up 17 per cent. Our economic numbers were quite “manageable” – public debt at 62 per cent of GDP (not far from the “master criterion” of 60 per cent), deficit at around 5 per cent – at least before the “tragic unfortunate event” at Mari. People have a right to be angry, but the government will “investigate and determine the causes and responsibilities, then bring normality back to the economy and to the lives of people through the prompt restoration of the electricity supply”. As for the Cyprus problem, this may be our best opportunity for a fair solution: “If we lose the chance of the presidency of President Christofias, it might be even more difficult afterwards.”
I don’t really argue with any of this, because what’s the point? Party politics has increasingly become the art of claiming one is never wrong, while also claiming that the other fellow – in this case opposition parties which “try and undermine the efforts that are being made” – is always wrong. Yet in fact Praxoulla Antoniadou hasn’t always been a politician. Her life divides into three main sections – from her birth in 1958 to 1981, when she joined the Central Bank of Cyprus, then the 12 years to 1993 when she worked as a technocrat, with a husband and young children (her daughter is now 23, studying to be an architect; her son is 18, a pupil at the English School), then her political career in the years since then, moving up a gear in 2006 when she left the Bank to concentrate on public affairs. “I have a strong academic background,” she admits – including a B.Sc. and M.Sc. from the London School of Economics – then demurs again: “I don’t want to speak a lot about myself.”
Oh, these politicians – but a few personal details do emerge. I learn, for instance, of her late father, who worked for Mobil Oil yet also had “a deep interest in politics”.
What exactly were his politics?
She looks slightly embarrassed: “Ah … Well, I think by now it’s not a secret to say this. There was a contradiction in his life, let’s say, in the sense that he was a Communist at heart – but he worked in an American company.”
She laughs, a surprisingly full, hearty laugh; I suspect she’s the kind of person who laughs often, at least when she’s not talking politics. There’s something extroverted, almost dramatic about our new Minister, with her pearls and striking red hair. Back in primary school, she recalls, her first-form teacher Mrs Hadjicosti was also in charge of a kids’ programme on CyBC, and invited young Praxoulla to come to the studio and perform: “I’ve been on TV since the age of six!” she says, and laughs again. Even later, when she was about to graduate from the English School and wondering what to study, “I had some secret desire of becoming an actor and a singer. But my father was a bit conservative, so I had to turn to more pragmatic fields”.
Her dad was a big influence, though – a man of strong ideas, especially on the Cyprus problem. “He told us that all Cypriots are the same, and we should co-operate and respect each other,” she explains. “I owe to my father this early awareness of the political necessity to contribute to the progress of the country, rather than just be a spectator.” Her ideas are solidly bicommunal, and of course it’s no secret that the United Democrats were among the few who campaigned for a ‘Yes’ vote in the 2004 referendum. She’s also the author – along with Ozlem Oguz Cilsal and Fiona Mullen, a team of female economists who’ve come to be known as ‘The Three Ladies’ – of ‘The Day After: Commercial opportunities following a solution to the Cyprus problem’, a study pointing out the economic benefits of reunification which won a Stelios Haji-Ioannou Award for Business Co-operation in Cyprus.
Her CV is actually quite strong, including that award-winning study as well as five years in the thick of the EU accession process, co-ordinating the Central Bank’s preparatory work. There’s no doubt she could’ve seen out her time as a civil servant and made an excellent living – but something drew her on, whether political idealism or just that old childhood desire to be a performer. Despite her self-effacing caution in interview mode, there’s no doubting the buzz of excitement at the Ministry of Commerce – from the secretaries sorting letters of congratulation (“I put them in a box file, in case she wants to see them,” I overhear one saying to another, making me wonder how many letters there must be to necessitate a box file) to the Minister’s own avid energy as she meets and greets. “Theodoros! Just like my son!” she says charmingly when I introduce myself. Even the burly security guys seem happy to be there.
Still, it’s going to be a challenge – not just because she comes from a small party, not just because we’re in crisis (oh yes we are), but also for the simple reason that the working hours are brutal, especially for someone who describes herself as a homebody: “I like to spend time with my family, my dog, my garden…” Late nights aren’t Praxoulla Antoniadou’s strong point. “I’m a day person,” she insists. “Certainly a day person. I am very productive in the morning, during the day. I need to sleep at least seven hours at night.” She pauses, looking pained: “Of course, since the day I assumed my duties here, I don’t sleep more than five hours, because there’s no time.”
There’s no honeymoon period, she admits with a smile, no period of adjustment to her new reality. Just a few days after becoming Minister she’d already submitted three proposals to the Cabinet, two of which had to be prepared from scratch (they were emergency measures, like extending the limit of the overdraft which the EAC can legally obtain from commercial banks). “I had to make all the contacts, exchange views, decide and draft in three days. Also meet all the people involved, meet delegations from abroad, give interviews, forget my family. Tonight I’m attending a meeting of the Executive Secretariat of my party, because they’ve started complaining that I’m neglecting them” – there’s that laugh again – “and then I’m attending a social event in the evening, the first social event in my capacity as a Minister. And I have meetings also during the weekend.”
That’s the double bind of being a politician: few jobs make such inordinate demands on one’s life – yet few jobs impose such a rigid code of conduct, any glimpse of ordinary human doubt likely to be read as a sign of weakness. No wonder they’re hard to talk to. No wonder they tend to speak in platitudes. “My ultimate aim is to be able to deliver to my children, and hence to the young generation of Cypriots, a better world. A world where they can feel safe and free to develop themselves, so they can contribute to society but also prosper,” says Praxoulla Antoniadou – a very noble speech yet I wonder how much of the real woman it contains, the woman who thrust herself into politics, who tried (and failed) three times to be elected MP then tried again for Euro MP, the woman who looks me in the eye and declares: “I am not a person that shies away from challenges.” I guess it’s all part of being politicised.
