Divided island joins in grim quest to find out fate of missing loved ones

FAMILIES of hundreds of Cypriots who went missing in conflict decades ago were condemned to live in agonising limbo. This week, in a momentous event, some will finally get answers about their loved ones' fate.

Greek and Turkish Cypriots have spent months excavating unmarked graves on both sides of the divide. Bodies were found dumped in wells or bulldozed into trenches. The first remains have been identified and are ready to be returned for proper religious burial.

Nicos Serghides, whose brother, Joseph, is among the missing, said: "We feel if we know with concrete evidence they are dead, there will be a relief of the agony. Not knowing whether your loved one is alive is what kills the families."

Until now, the relatives had only sad mementos: photos of young men with Donny Osmond haircuts and wide lapels, arms clasped protectively around fresh-faced women sporting beehives or bobs.

Oran Finnegan, an Irish forensic anthropologist on the project, said: "It doesn't matter how much time has passed, a lot of people can't move on without the remains."

Mr Serghides faces a dilemma if he learns his brother's remains have been found. Even now his octogenarian mother, Elena, clings to the hope that he is alive and has told all her sons: "If you hear your brother is dead, don't tell me - let me die believing he is alive."

Joseph is one of 1,468 Greek Cypriots who went missing in 1974 when Turkey invaded northern Cyprus after a coup in Nicosia engineered by the military junta that ruled Greece. There are also 502 Turkish Cypriots missing, mostly from inter-communal violence in 1963 and 1964.

The breakthrough comes despite the deadlock in unifying Cyprus, but diplomats hope it will help heal the rift. Christophe Girod, a Swiss member of the UN-backed Committee of Missing Persons (CMP), said: "It could lead to mutual accusations or an opportunity to look at the past and try to heal it."

Hope was not always unrealistic because many of those missing were reported alive after disappearing. Joseph Serghides was 21 when he and some 30 other Greek Cypriot soldiers were captured by Turkish forces, 1974, his brother said. All were missing except two who were sent to Turkey as prisoners of war. "These two came back and said the others were well when they last saw them."

Remains are reassembled for identification at a purpose-built anthropological laboratory in the UN-controlled buffer zone dividing Nicosia. Few skeletons are complete. Some are without skulls, ribs or limbs. Others come with personal effects that could help identify them - the occasional item of jewellery, a decayed leather shoe or a rag of clothing.

Any evidence gleaned from the skeleton or the grave is cross-checked against information provided by relatives. Finally, DNA testing ensures verification beyond doubt: bone samples are tested against blood supplied by relatives.

The CMP has exhumed some 270 bodies and believes it has found graves for more than half the missing. It could take three years to recover all the bodies.

Greek Cypriot authorities refused to declare their missing dead without proof. Turkish Cypriot leaders encouraged relatives to presume loved ones were dead.

This was easier said than done. Kutlay Erk, a Turkish Cypriot engineer whose father went missing nearly half a century ago, said: "Without the remains for burial, the families will keep their hopes."

Mr Erk was 11 when he last saw his father, Mustafa Arif, in December 1963. Inter-communal fighting had erupted.

His father, a 45-year-old prison warden, had a heart attack and was taken to hospital. After the first two days, he urged his family not to visit, warning: "It's not safe outside. Don't come tomorrow."

His family never saw him again, and his son believes he was abducted by Greek Cypriot gunmen.

"We have information in 1964 or 1965 that he was shot dead soon after, by the riverbank near the hospital, but we never had confirmation."

Two months before Mr Erk's mother died in 1999, the family was out for a drive when she spotted holiday homes being built. "Why don't you buy a house for us?" she asked her son, who replied: "Us? What do you mean?" His mother said: "For me and your father." Mr Erk said after 36 years she could not be serious, but she replied: "You never know, he may come back."