1 Introduction
Film studies, as a multidisciplinary field, has long been concerned with the interwoven issues of representation, ideology, spectatorship, and cultural memory. The intersection of film and history has produced a rich body of scholarship exploring how cinematic narratives not only depict the past but also mediate it, reshape collective memory, and contribute to the ongoing construction of national identity (Rosenstone Reference Rosenstone1995).
This article is based on a qualitative textual analysis of two contemporary television series, Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs (broadcast on TRT in 2021) and Famagusta (broadcast on MEGA TV in 2024), with the aim of examining how national narratives of the Cyprus conflict are constructed and made meaningful through popular historical dramas. Rather than attempting an exhaustive summary of the series, the analysis focuses on a close reading of the first five episodes of each production, resulting in a total of ten episodes analyzed.Footnote 1 In other words, methodologically, all scene-based examples and narrative patterns discussed in the following sections are drawn from the first five episodes of each series unless otherwise indicated. These opening episodes are analytically crucial, as they establish the narrative logic of the series: they introduce the central characters, define moral positions, select which historical moments are foregrounded, and set the terms through which the past is to be interpreted. Although both series consist of twenty-four episodes and follow conventional prime-time formats, concentrating on their beginnings makes it possible to identify the initial narrative and ideological frameworks that shape everything that follows. The analysis pays particular attention to recurring representational strategies, including character construction, melodramatic conventions, linguistic choices, and the temporal sequencing of events. These elements are approached as encoding practices through which collective memory is shaped and political meaning is organized. Further, the analysis employs a qualitative textual analysis that focuses on the encoding of narrative and visual tropes rather than a simple re-telling of political developments. This approach allows for an investigation into how the series organizes meaning and invites preferred readings that align viewers with particular national and political positions, effectively transforming historical discourse into naturalized myths.
The selection of Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta as the primary objects of study is driven by the unique opportunity they provide to observe how identical geographical spaces and shared historical actors are reconfigured into divergent, often antagonistic narratives. Furthermore, the rationale for selecting these two specific series is reinforced by their direct impact on contemporary diplomacy and media governance. As detailed in Section 3, Famagusta provoked significant backlash, leading to strategic lobbying by Turkish authorities that resulted in Netflix restricting the series’ availability to audiences outside of Greece.Footnote 2 This recent instance of “platform-based censorship” and diplomatic friction underscores the series’ role as an active political agent rather than a mere cultural artifact. Comparing Famagusta with Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs — a production born from a similar nationalist mindset — offers a unique opportunity for film and media studies to explore how competing historical simulations can trigger real-world political crises and shape the boundaries of transnational digital broadcasting. In this context, this article does not seek to establish an objective historical “truth” regarding the Cyprus conflict. By contrast, it investigates how the events in successive periods of time are mediated and reconstructed through the distinct lenses of different storytellers operating under specific political conjunctures. By bringing these two productions into direct dialogue, the study reveals how representations of the past are strategically differentiated to align with contemporary political atmospheres. Ultimately, this comparative approach demonstrates the extent to which current ideological climates dictate the framing of “reality,” turning the screen into a site where competing visions of national identity and sovereignty are performed and validated.
The two series choose to focus on different historical periods, each corresponding to the peak of national trauma for their respective communities. Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs centers its narrative around the events of 1963, a period marked by significant Turkish Cypriot losses and displacement following intercommunal violence (Özdür et al. Reference Özdür, Başaran and İnan2021). By contrast, Famagusta situates its story in 1974, a year that witnessed mass displacement and suffering among Greek Cypriots during and after the Turkish military intervention (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024). This selective temporal framing further reveals how each production prioritizes the era most resonant with its intended national audience’s collective memory of victimization.
Taken together, these theoretical traditions converge around a shared insight that media is not neutral. It constructs meaning, organizes memory, and regulates identity. Historical TV dramas like Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta are thus more than entertainment—they are ideological apparatuses through which nations are imagined (Anderson Reference Anderson1983), memories are shaped, and power is exercised. By combining insights from semiotics, discourse theory, constructionism, and memory studies, this article develops a critical framework for analyzing the ways these series articulate competing visions of history, identity, and belonging.
2 Research design and analytical framework
The analytical approach of the article is grounded primarily in Stuart Hall’s theory of representation (Hall Reference Hall and Stuart1997). Hall’s work is particularly useful for understanding historical television drama, as it treats media texts not as reflections of an already-given reality but as sites where meaning is actively produced. Hall’s work on representation reframes it not as a passive reflection of reality, but as an active and ideological process of meaning production. For Hall (1997), meaning is not found in objects themselves but is constructed through language, imagery, and cultural codes. Those who control representation also control meaning — and thus, power over how reality is interpreted (Hall Reference Hall and Stuart1997). This is especially significant for historical film and television, which do not simply recount events but actively construct and circulate dominant narratives and cultural identities. Hall’s encoding/decoding model highlights how audiences interpret texts in variable ways, depending on their own cultural positioning within or against dominant codes (Hall Reference Stuart, Dorothy Hobson, Love and Willis1980). Drawing on his encoding/decoding model, the analysis examines how the two series encode specific interpretations of the Cyprus conflict by privileging certain events, emotions, and perspectives while marginalizing others. In this sense, the focus is less on whether the series is “accurate” in a historical sense and more on how they organize meaning, invite preferred readings, and align viewers with particular national and political positions. The years most strongly emphasized in the series — 1963 in Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and 1974 in Famagusta — are therefore treated not simply as historical reference points but as representational choices that structure the narrative and moral universe of each production.
While Hall’s framework provides the main analytical spine of the article, it is supplemented by a small number of theoretical concepts that help clarify different dimensions of the representational process. Roland Barthes’ notion of myth (Reference Barthes and Lavers1972) is used to show how these encoded meanings become naturalized over time, transforming historically and politically contingent narratives into stories that appear self-evident or morally inevitable. In this context, myth does not operate independently of representation but rather describes the moment at which representational choices begin to look like common sense.
Similarly, Jean Baudrillard’s concept of hyperreality (1994) is employed to account for the highly aestheticized and emotionally charged nature of these dramatizations. The series does not simply narrate the past; they produce immersive and affective worlds that can feel more real to viewers than the complex and fragmented historical record itself. Here, hyperreality is not treated as a separate theoretical framework but as a condition that intensifies the effects of representation, reinforcing dominant readings through spectacle and emotional identification. In Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta TV series, what appears to be a revival of historical consciousness may instead be interpreted, following Jean Baudrillard, as a hyperreal simulation of history. Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta do not present history as an open site of inquiry or contested memory, but rather as a closed referential system — history not as lived experience, but as spectacle. These series revive a carefully constructed image of the past in a way that aligns with Baudrillard’s (Reference Baudrillard and Glaser1994) notion of the hyperreal: a representation that has no stable referent but produces the illusion of historical authenticity. The emotional weight, patriotic fervor, and visual fidelity seen in these series may be less about recovering the past and more about compensating for the loss of meaningful historical engagement in the present. Much like retro films that simulate the style and sentiment of a previous era, these historical dramas aestheticize national trauma and identity, transforming history into a nostalgic commodity stripped of political complexity (Baudrillard Reference Baudrillard and Glaser1994).
While the analysis utilizes Hall’s encoding/decoding as its primary spine, it ultimately moves toward Alison Landsberg’s (Reference Landsberg2004) concept of prosthetic memory. By doing so, the article argues that these television dramas do more than just represent the past; they manufacture a “portable” and affective memory for modern audiences. This prosthetic memory, reinforced through Baudrillardian spectacle and Barthesian myths, becomes a key tool for populist discourses to naturalize nationalistic claims over Cyprus today.
What distinguishes this article from much of the existing literature is its comparative focus. While previous studies have examined Turkish historical dramas or Greek memory narratives separately, this article brings Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta into direct dialogue (Papadopoulos Reference Papadopoulos and Göttsche2019a; Işık 2025). By comparing a production aired by Turkey’s state broadcaster (TRT) with a series produced for a major Greek private channel (MEGA TV), the article shows how different media systems and political contexts nonetheless rely on comparable representational mechanisms when addressing contested histories. Rather than treating the two series as isolated national texts, the analysis situates them within a shared transnational field of memory politics shaped by populism, geopolitical tension, and unresolved historical trauma. Moreover, what we learn from this comparative analysis is that these series do not merely represent history; they function as competing prosthetic memory devices (Landsberg Reference Landsberg2004). In the age of populism, the selective reconfiguration of the past (1963 for Turkey and 1974 for Greece) serves to create an affective, second-hand memory for audiences who did not live through these events, thereby legitimizing contemporary nationalisms through a mediated simulation of trauma.
By keeping representation at the center of the analysis, the article moves beyond the general observation that television can function as an ideological tool. Instead, it demonstrates how national memories of Cyprus are actively constructed through narrative form, how certain voices and experiences are privileged over others, and how popular television becomes a key site where political legitimacy and collective identity are negotiated.
3 Cultural production and political climate: Why now?
The television series examined in this study are deeply intertwined with their respective political contexts, as evidenced by the strong political reactions they provoked. These responses underscore the extent to which historical narratives about Cyprus continue to be highly sensitive and contested. Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta serve not merely as representations of historical events but as cultural productions that actively participate in the reproduction of dominant ideologies through selective storytelling and the construction of national myths.Footnote 3 By shaping collective memory and reinforcing national identities, these series illustrate how historical dramas can function as instruments of ideological formation rather than as neutral reflections of the past.
In October 2024, the presidential election in the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC) was held.Footnote 4 Ersin Tatar, who is a Turkish nationalist and supported by the government of Turkey, won the election. Tatar’s campaign received open support from the Turkish government, marking a significant shift in the political landscape of Northern Cyprus. His win over the incumbent, Mustafa Akıncı, who favored reunification under a federal system, signaled Ankara’s increasing influence in the region’s politics. The election was also notable for the controversial reopening of Varosha, a district of Famagusta, a move announced jointly by Tatar and Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan shortly before the vote, which was widely perceived as a strategic maneuver to bolster nationalist sentiments.Footnote 5
Further, a comprehensive report titled 2020 KKTC Cumhurbaşkanlığı Seçimi Hakkında Müdahale Raporu (Report on Interference in the 2020 TRNC Presidential Election) was published in 2021 by a group of academics, journalists, and civil society members.Footnote 6 The report documents various forms of interference, including allegations that Turkish intelligence officials pressured certain candidates to withdraw, and that media outlets were utilized to influence public opinion in favor of Tatar. These actions were perceived as undermining the democratic process and the political autonomy of the Turkish Cypriot community. The political climate following the 2020 elections, characterized by increased Turkish involvement in TRNC affairs and a shift towards a two-state solution narrative, created a fertile ground for cultural productions that align with these perspectives.
These political developments created a favorable environment for the release of Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs in April 2021. Produced by Turkey’s state broadcaster TRT, the series dramatized the historical suffering of Turkish Cypriots during the 1960s, particularly focusing on the period of intercommunal violence known as “Bloody Christmas” (Keser Reference Keser2011). Through its narrative, the show revisited the Greek Cypriot nationalist movement for Enosis (union with Greece), the Akritas Plan, and the collapse of the bi-communal Republic of Cyprus. The series aired for two seasons: the first centered on the events following “Bloody Christmas,” while the second shifted focus to the Erenköy Resistance, highlighting Turkish Cypriot students who left their studies in Ankara, Istanbul, and the UK to defend their homeland. Accordingly, the series title was changed to Kıbrıs: Zafere Doğru (Cyprus: Towards Victory) for its second season.Footnote 7
While Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan did not issue a direct comment about the series, his broader political rhetoric concerning Cyprus — particularly his emphasis on Turkish Cypriot sovereignty and a two-state solution — mirrors the ideological framing found in the show.Footnote 8 Moreover, the release of the series on TRT further underscores its role as part of a broader cultural strategy aimed at shaping collective memory in alignment with official state ideology. Rather than engaging in a nuanced exploration of the Cypriot conflict, Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs constructs a simplified moral binary that resonates more with Turkey’s domestic political landscape than with the complex historical realities on the island. This focus on the Turkish mainland audience is not only evident in the series’ narrative style and thematic framing but was also explicitly acknowledged by Turkish Cypriot President Ersin Tatar during his visit to the set of the production. In his statement, Tatar emphasized that the series is “primarily intended for viewers in Turkey” and highlighted its role in communicating the Turkish Cypriot struggle to Turkish and international audiences.Footnote 9 His public endorsement of the series reflects the extent to which Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs operates not just as entertainment but as a cultural tool aligned with Turkey’s national narrative and foreign policy positioning on the Cyprus issue.
The Famagusta series premiered in 2024 to mark the 50th anniversary of the 1974 events.Footnote 10 This series offers a contrasting narrative, focusing on the experiences and memories of Greek Cypriots during and after the Turkish military intervention. The release of Famagusta coincided with the 50th anniversary of the Turkish military intervention in Cyprus, a period marked by renewed interest in the island’s divided history. The series sparked controversy, particularly in Turkey, where officials criticized it for portraying the Turkish military as aggressors.Footnote 11 Turkish authorities reportedly lobbied Netflix to restrict the series’ availability outside Greece, leading to its limited release on the platform.Footnote 12 This reaction underscores the ongoing sensitivities surrounding the portrayal of historical events related to the Cyprus conflict.
The 2024 release of Famagusta coincided not only with the 50th anniversary of the 1974 Turkish military intervention in Cyprus but also with the renewed attention surrounding Varosha, a district of Famagusta that had remained closed since 1974. As mentioned, in 2020, parts of Varosha were reopened to the public, a move that was met with international criticism.Footnote 13 This reopening reignited discussions about the region’s contested status and the memories of displacement among Greek Cypriots. The series leverages this renewed focus, using Varosha not just as a backdrop but as a symbol of loss and the enduring impact of division. By intertwining personal narratives with the broader geopolitical developments, Famagusta offers viewers a poignant reflection on the past and its lingering effects on present-day Cyprus. In contrast to Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs , which primarily targets a Turkish audience and aligns with Turkey’s official narrative, Famagusta seeks to resonate with Greek Cypriot viewers by emphasizing themes of loss, memory, and the quest for justice. Both series exemplify how television dramas can serve as vehicles for national narratives, reflecting and shaping public perceptions of historical events.
3.1 Media, populism, and ideological narratives in Turkey and Greece
In Turkey and Greece, popular media have become vital instruments for constructing, transmitting, and legitimizing nationalist imaginaries. Historical dramas, in particular, operate as ideological battlegrounds where national identity and memory are negotiated through spectacle. Following Louis Althusser’s (Reference Althusser and Brewster1971) conceptualization of the media as an ideological state apparatus, both Turkish and Greek broadcasters engage in the reproduction of dominant ideologies, shaping collective consciousness through the selective representation of history. Comparative research shows that long-standing ideological and populist traditions strongly shape how media narrate national identity in both countries. In Greece, decades of embedded populism beginning in the post-1974 era and intensifying during the Eurozone crisis normalized a moralized lens of “the pure people versus the corrupt elite,” influencing how media articulate national struggles and historical memory (Pappas and Aslanidis Reference Pappas, Aslanidis, Kriesi and Pappas2015; Salgado et al. Reference Salgado, Luengo, Papathanassopoulos, Suiter and Stępińska2022). Meanwhile, in Turkey, the consolidation of state-aligned historical storytelling — particularly through TRT — positions televised history as a strategic tool for producing national identity in alignment with contemporary ideological projects (Dursun Reference Dursun2024).
This dynamic is particularly visible in Turkey, where the rise of the Justice and Development Party (AKP) has intertwined political power with cultural production, giving rise to a media environment characterized by populist rhetoric, neo-Ottoman nostalgia, and state influence. The AKP’s governance model can be considered as a form of authoritarian neoliberalism, where economic liberalization coexists with political centralization and control of media discourse (Yeşil Reference Yeşil2016). The structural transformation of Turkey’s media landscape since the 1980s has entrenched clientelism and cross-ownership, linking conglomerates and broadcasters to state patronage networks. Within this system, the state broadcaster TRT has emerged as a central ideological platform through which nationalist-Islamist narratives are disseminated. Since the early 2010s, Turkish television has witnessed a marked expansion of historical dramas, particularly on state and pro-government channels. Series such as Diriliş: Ertuğrul , Payitaht: Abdülhamid , Alparslan: Büyük Selçuklu , and Kut’ül Amare have established a dominant televisual mode in which Ottoman and Turkish history is re-narrated through nationalist, religious, and civilizational frameworks. This trend positions historical drama as a key cultural instrument for producing national identity, moral order, and political legitimacy under the AKP’s populist governance (Çevik Reference Çevik2019, Reference Çevik2020; Dursun Reference Dursun2024). Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs emerges directly from this televisual tradition and extends it beyond Anatolia, relocating the logic of neo-Ottoman historical narration to the geopolitically charged space of Cyprus.
Through state-backed productions, TRT does not merely narrate history but actively participates in shaping the symbolic boundaries of sovereignty and belonging in the Turkish Cypriot context. In this sense, Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs functions not only as a historical drama but as part of a broader strategy through which the AKP government reinforces its political, economic, and cultural influence over Northern Cyprus by framing the Cyprus conflict within a state-sanctioned memory regime (Çevik Reference Çevik2019; Algan and Kaptan Reference Algan and Kaptan2023). Studies of the 2019–2023 television landscape show that TRT’s emphasis on historical drama aligns closely with broader state discourses that link Ottoman history to contemporary geopolitical claims, including those surrounding Cyprus (Dursun Reference Dursun2024). Further, the approach of AKP did not rupture Turkey’s long authoritarian tradition but rearticulated it within a neoliberal framework that merges capitalism, Islamism, and nationalism (Yeşil Reference Yeşil2016). The resulting media economy functions simultaneously as a market-driven industry and a mechanism of ideological control.
This tension becomes most apparent at the point where domestic political control intersects with transnational television circulation. In Turkey, the international success of television dramas has developed alongside strengthened regulatory oversight and institutional coordination, meaning that global visibility often reinforces rather than loosens state influence over cultural production (Algan and Kaptan Reference Algan and Kaptan2023). A similar pattern can be observed in Greece, where long-standing political involvement in broadcasting, combined with the financial crisis’s destabilizing effects, has left both public and private television structurally dependent on state power, shaping historical representation even as content circulates beyond national borders (Iosifidis and Papathanassopoulos Reference Iosifidis and Papathanassopoulos2019; Podara and Matsiola Reference Podara and Matsiola2023).
Moreover, Turkey’s television industry operates within complex processes of global convergence and cultural diplomacy (Algan Reference Algan and Shawn2020; Yanardağoğlu and Turhallı Reference Yanardağoğlu, Turhallı, Kaptan and Algan2020). The global expansion of Turkish dramas reinforces this ideological reach. Since the early 2000s, Turkish series have become major cultural exports — broadcast in over 100 countries — and have shaped international perceptions of Turkey (Kuyucu Reference Kuyucu2014; Algan Reference Algan and Shawn2020). Their popularity in Greece, the Balkans, Latin America, and the Middle East demonstrates how transnational television flows operate simultaneously as economic commodities and soft-power instruments, allowing national narratives to circulate beyond domestic borders. However, this transnational reach should not be mistaken for ideological autonomy. In Turkey, the government has a documented history of clashing with global streaming platforms over politically sensitive content, most notably in the cancellation of Disney+’s Atatürk series. This case illustrates that platform-based productions remain subject to national political pressures, reinforcing the argument that global distribution does not guarantee narrative independence. Instead, platformization often intensifies ideological negotiation and anticipatory compliance rather than loosening state control (Bulut Reference Bulut2024; Ünür and Doğanyılmaz Duman Reference Ünür and Duman2024). Within this constrained environment, while Turkish dramas have achieved remarkable transnational success, their production and circulation remain shaped by political power. Turkish producers employ a range of “tactics” to navigate between state censorship and the demands of global markets. They manage this balance by aligning their content with the AKP’s nationalist discourse, which secures political legitimacy and international visibility (Algan Reference Algan and Shawn2020). Consequently, the convergence of domestic populism and transnational branding transforms Turkish television into both a global commodity and an ideological export.
Further, series such as Diriliş: Ertuğrul, Payitaht: Abdülhamid, and Kut’ül Amare present the Ottoman past as a moral and political template for the present (Çevik Reference Çevik2019, Reference Çevik2020). Using dramatization, these productions blur the boundaries between history and political myth, portraying righteous leaders defending the empire against traitors and foreign conspirators, allegorical figures for contemporary opposition and Western interference. Through what Kenneth Burke terms a “dramatistic” cycle of pollution, guilt, purification, and redemption, these series cast the nation’s struggles as perpetual moral battles (Çevik Reference Çevik2020). Loyalty to leadership and faith is thus equated with patriotism, while dissent and diversity are stigmatized. Çevik’s analysis demonstrates how TRT’s historical dramas serve as cultural vehicles for populist-nationalist ideology, normalizing authoritarianism through familiar melodramatic and heroic tropes.
Moreover, Josh Carney’s (Reference Carney2014, Reference Carney2018, Reference Carney2019) scholarship extends this analysis by exploring the affective and symbolic power of historical television. His concept of “prescriptive activation” describes how media texts are mobilized by political actors to shape public sentiment and align popular culture with state ideology. In his analysis of Diriliş: Ertuğrul , Carney (Reference Carney2018) links the show to necropolitics (Mbembe), where death and sacrifice are valorized as pillars of national identity. This affective dimension intersects with broader cultural currents of nostalgia. Scholars emphasize that Turkish historical dramas typically deploy “restorative nostalgia” that idealizes imperial heritage, while more critical or reflective depictions — like Muhteşem Yüzyıl — invited political backlash for challenging sanitized historical myths (Carney Reference Carney2014, Reference Carney2019; Boym Reference Boym2001). These contrasting modes reveal how struggles over the Ottoman past become symbolic contests over national identity and ideological legitimacy.
Through state-orchestrated events and commemorations, the drama’s imagery of martyrdom, loyalty, and resurrection has been embedded into political rituals, collapsing distinctions between fiction and governance. Carney’s earlier and later works (Reference Carney2014, Reference Carney2019) contrast Diriliş ’s restorative nostalgia with Muhteşem Yüzyıl ’s reflective nostalgia (Boym, Reference Boym2001), arguing that the former reinforces a purified, heroic Ottoman vision aligned with state ideology, while the latter provoked controversy by inviting critical reflection and irony. Together, these analyses reveal how nostalgia operates as both a cultural and political mode of legitimation.
The fusion between politics and media is sustained by deeper ideological currents described by Murat Ergin and Yağmur Karakaya (Reference Ergin and Karakaya2017) as the coexistence of neo-Ottomanism and Ottomania, two intertwined yet distinct frameworks. Neo-Ottomanism operates as a state-led political ideology that reclaims imperial grandeur as a legitimizing narrative, while Ottomania circulates in popular culture as a commodified fascination with the Ottoman aesthetic. A similar dynamic shapes Greek cultural productions, where literature and heritage television frequently turn to the Ottoman Belle Époque and Asia Minor as symbolic landscapes for negotiating displacement, trauma, and national identity (Papadopoulos, Reference Papadopoulos and Albrecht2019b).
Unlike Turkey, Greece has not experienced a sustained boom in state-driven historical television in the same form. However, periods of political and economic crisis — particularly following the 2009 financial collapse — have intensified media engagement with national trauma, displacement, and historical grievance. Within this context, Famagusta can be read as part of a broader turn toward memory-centered dramatization rather than as an isolated production. While it does not replicate Turkey’s neo-Ottoman televisual model, Famagusta operates within a similarly polarized media environment, where historical narration becomes a vehicle for articulating national suffering, sovereignty, and moral legitimacy (Grigoriadis Reference Grigoriadis2011, Reference Grigoriadis2020; Iosifidis and Papathanassopoulos Reference Iosifidis and Papathanassopoulos2019; Podara and Matsiola Reference Podara and Matsiola2023). These works blend nostalgia with selective historical representation, often idealizing coexistence while grappling with the ruptures of 1922. Historical memories documented by refugees themselves further show that late Ottoman coexistence was structured around everyday moral economies rather than rigid ethnic divisions (Doumanis, Reference Doumanis2013) — a contrast to later nationalist narratives. These cultural discourses shape how contemporary Greek media approach historical dramatization, including narratives about Cyprus.
The interaction between these frameworks enables both the politicization and commercialization of the past, where state-sponsored narratives and popular consumption reinforce each other. This process mirrors what Reyhan Ünal Çınar (Reference Ünal Çınar2020) terms Ersatz nostalgia — a marketized form of longing that transforms history into consumable spectacle. In contrast to genuine collective remembrance, Ersatz nostalgia turns the Ottoman past into a symbolic commodity, advancing the AKP’s “New Turkey” project by fusing memory politics with cultural production. Parallel developments can be observed in Greece, where populism and nationalism have also shaped media narratives and historical representation. Ioannis Grigoriadis (Reference Grigoriadis2011, Reference Grigoriadis2020) argues that Greek nationalism evolved from Enlightenment-inspired civic ideals toward exclusionary models grounded in Orthodoxy, language, and ethnicity. The financial crisis intensified these dynamics by weakening traditional parties and enabling populist rhetoric that framed foreign creditors and domestic elites as antagonists of the Greek people (Grigoriadis Reference Grigoriadis2020; Pappas and Aslanidis Reference Pappas, Aslanidis, Kriesi and Pappas2015). Media coverage during this period amplified populist discourse, giving greater visibility to anti-elite narratives, especially in contexts where populist parties gained electoral strength (Salgado et al. Reference Salgado, Luengo, Papathanassopoulos, Suiter and Stępińska2022). This polarized communicative environment directly shaped how historical dramas such as Famagusta interpret national sovereignty, trauma, and resistance.
The boundaries of belonging were reactivated through populist discourses in the wake of the financial crisis, particularly under SYRIZA’s left-wing populism. Like the AKP, SYRIZA mobilized an “us versus them” narrative, framing the people against corrupt elites and external enemies — here, European creditors and technocrats (Markou Reference Markou2017). While ideologically distinct, both Turkish and Greek populisms rely on emotional appeals to authenticity, victimhood, and national revival, using the media as a key channel of ideological articulation. In both contexts, popular culture becomes a medium through which collective trauma, sovereignty, and identity are dramatized. In Greece, the media system has historically been marked by political influence and clientelism, characterized by a strong state and a weak civil society. This troubled political history meant that the Hellenic Broadcasting Corporation (ERT) was long perceived by the public as a “state broadcaster” rather than a genuine “public service broadcaster” (Iosifidis and Papathanassopoulos Reference Iosifidis and Papathanassopoulos2019). The political tensions resulted in ERT being historically regarded as an “arm of the state,” where changes in government often led to corresponding changes in the broadcaster’s executives (Iosifidis and Papathanassopoulos Reference Iosifidis and Papathanassopoulos2019). This pattern reinforced the perception that a truly editorially, politically, and financially independent public service broadcaster never fully materialized in the country.
Taken together, these frameworks reveal that Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta are not isolated productions but parts of broader ideological ecosystems. Both series emerge within media systems marked by structural fragility, political polarization, and ideological contestation. In Turkey, TRT’s expansive historical-drama ecosystem reinforces neo-Ottoman discourses aligned with contemporary nation-building (Dursun Reference Dursun2024; Çevik Reference Çevik2019, Reference Çevik2020). In Greece, the decade-long financial crisis destabilized broadcasters — leading to the collapse or restructuring of major channels like MEGA TV — and intensified clientelist dependencies that shaped programming choices (Podara and Matsiola Reference Podara and Matsiola2023). In these environments, historical fiction becomes a vehicle through which national imaginaries are stabilized, contested, and reproduced. They operate within what Althusser (Reference Althusser and Brewster1971) would describe as overlapping ideological state apparatuses, state broadcasters, cultural institutions, and entertainment industries, that reproduce dominant national narratives under populist regimes. In Turkey, TRT’s historical dramas perpetuate neo-Ottoman imaginaries that align with the AKP’s vision of national destiny, while in Greece, MEGA TV’s Famagusta participates in similar mechanisms of mythmaking, albeit through a different ideological lens. The instability in the Greek media landscape further underscores the political dependence, revealing how even large private broadcasters highlight their reliance on state patronage and their embeddedness within a media system prone to clientelism. This shows that Famagusta airs on a private channel that is not ideologically neutral but is instead a product of a volatile economic and political environment. In this fragile ecosystem, the production of a historical drama that aligns with prevalent national sentiments serves not only commercial goals but also implicitly reinforces a specific version of national history and sovereignty during a period of ongoing ideological contestation. Thus, both cases demonstrate how historical fiction becomes a medium for reimagining nationhood in the age of populism and mediated nostalgia.
Understanding these intersecting dynamics of media, ideology, and populism clarifies why series such as Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta provoke strong political reactions. Both operate within institutional environments where national broadcasters serve as vehicles for state-sanctioned narratives, transforming historical memory into a site of ideological contestation. Taken together, these dynamics show that historical dramas operate within politically embedded media ecosystems in which visibility, memory, and authority are tightly intertwined. Whether circulating through state broadcasters or global platforms, historical narratives become flashpoints of ideological struggle when they engage contested pasts such as Cyprus. This structural condition helps explain why Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta provoked intense political reactions across Turkey, Greece, and Northern Cyprus (Althusser Reference Althusser and Brewster1971; Bulut Reference Bulut2024; Ünür and Doğanyılmaz Duman 2024). The next section examines how these tensions materialized in public controversies surrounding the two productions, revealing the broader stakes of representing Cyprus’s history on screen.
3.2 Political reactions and media controversies
The release of Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs was accompanied by overt political endorsement. High-ranking officials, including Turkish Vice President Fuat Oktay and Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC) President Ersin Tatar, attended the series premiere in Famagusta, publicly emphasizing the show’s role in reinforcing national consciousness and highlighting Turkish Cypriot resilience. TRT, Turkey’s state broadcaster, actively promoted the series, framing it as a contribution to collective memory and national solidarity. In a statement to TRT prior to the screening, Vice President Oktay emphasized the series’ educational value, particularly for younger generations. He noted that revisiting the historical realities of EOKA, the Enosis movement, and the Akritas Plan — especially during ongoing diplomatic efforts such as the “5+UN” talks — was crucial for understanding the past and envisioning a stronger future for Cyprus. He expressed gratitude to the production team, highlighting the show as a symbolic bridge between past and future.Footnote 14
Some critics in the north condemned officials for sending an inappropriate message by holding the premiere during the pandemic. The screening, which took place at the Rauf Raif Denktaş Culture and Congress Center, saw around 250 guests in attendance, despite the venue having a seating capacity of approximately 850. Meanwhile, Greek Cypriots also raised objections, with local media in the south describing the series as propaganda, particularly since it coincided with the Republic of Cyprus’s commemoration of EOKA Day.Footnote 15
Despite the series’ patriotic framing, Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs also drew criticism within Turkey for its technical execution and perceived historical simplifications. Some viewers voiced concerns over the absence of authentic Cypriot representation, noting the use of mainland Turkish accents and non-local actors, and criticized the production for presenting an overly nationalist and simplified narrative of the Cyprus conflict.Footnote 16
The Greek Cypriot drama Famagusta, produced by MEGA TV, premiered in January 2024 amid heightened political sensitivities surrounding the 50th anniversary of the 1974 Turkish military intervention in Cyprus.Footnote 17 Framed as a dramatization inspired by real events, the series revisits the traumatic experiences of Greek Cypriots during and after the intervention, with a particular focus on the city of Famagusta. Set across 24 episodes, Famagusta portrays emotionally charged scenes of civilian displacement, the bombing and occupation of the city, and the closure of the Varosha suburb — now a potent symbol of contested memory and unresolved conflict.
A trailer released on the 49th anniversary of the intervention already sparked controversy, portraying Turkish soldiers as perpetrators of violence, forcibly displacing Greek Cypriots, and committing atrocities. Against this backdrop, Famagusta seeks to dramatize personal stories, such as a young couple forced to flee their home after losing their baby, and a man who, after losing his family, relocates to London. Promotional material framed the Turkish intervention primarily through the lens of Greek Cypriot suffering. MEGA TV, along with director Giorgos Georgiou, later announced that both seasons of the series would become available on Netflix beginning September 20, 2024.Footnote 18
The series provoked significant backlash in Turkey and Northern Cyprus. Turkish Vice President Cevdet Yılmaz criticized Famagusta for presenting a distorted narrative, emphasizing that the 1974 intervention — termed the “Peace Operation” in Turkey — had brought stability to the island by halting atrocities committed against Turkish Cypriots by the Greek Cypriot paramilitary group EOKA. Turkish officials accused the series of serving as a tool of “black propaganda,” misrepresenting historical realities, and maligning the Turkish Armed Forces. Similarly, TRNC President Ersin Tatar denounced the series as “Greek propaganda,”Footnote 19 while the Turkish Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued a formal statement rejecting the depiction of Turkish forces as occupiers and highlighting efforts to counteract such narratives through alternative media productions, including 50th Anniversary Documentary and The Next Day, a TRT documentary highlighting atrocities committed by Greek forces during earlier conflicts.Footnote 20
TRNC Foreign Minister Tahsin Ertuğruloğlu was among the strongest critics of the series, arguing that it constructs a false historical narrative by portraying the Cyprus conflict as beginning with the 1974 intervention, ignoring the decade of intercommunal violence that preceded it. He accused the series of aiming to influence younger generations through an ideologically driven portrayal that marginalizes Turkish Cypriot experiences. Comparing Famagusta to TRT’s 2021 series Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs , Ertuğruloğlu stressed that the two productions were fundamentally different: whereas Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs was based on documented historical events, he claimed Famagusta was grounded in fabricated narratives. He called upon Turkish and Turkish Cypriot filmmakers to produce more works that preserve and promote the Turkish Cypriot perspective, citing historical atrocities like the Maratha, Santalaris, and Aloda massacres ( Muratağa, Sandallar ve Atlılar katliamı in Turkish) as potential subjects.Footnote 21
In response to the controversy, RTÜK President Ebubekir Şahin announced that the series would not be broadcast in Turkey. In a statement shared on social media, he confirmed that RTÜK had reached an agreement with Netflix to prevent Famagusta’s availability in Turkey and in other countries, except Greece. Şahin criticized the series for attempting to distort historical facts and malign the reputation of the Turkish nation and its armed forces.Footnote 22
In sum, the controversy surrounding Famagusta highlights the ongoing struggle over the historical memory of the Cyprus conflict and the influential role of television dramas in shaping national narratives. While Famagusta, produced by MEGA TV in Greece, presents the 1974 events through the lens of Greek Cypriot suffering and displacement, Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs , produced by Turkey’s state broadcaster TRT, dramatizes the experiences of Turkish Cypriots and reflects Turkey’s official historical perspective. The strong reactions from Turkish and Turkish Cypriot officials underscore the political sensitivities that cultural productions continue to provoke. However, these official responses do not necessarily represent the full diversity of opinions among the broader Turkish Cypriot community.
Together, these series demonstrate how dramatized representations of history can both reflect and reinforce national memories, but also simplify or selectively interpret complex historical realities. To fully understand the depth of these portrayals and the controversies they ignite, it is necessary to revisit the real historical background of the Cyprus conflict, including the events leading up to and following the critical year of 1974.
4 Historical background
While the primary aim of this article is not to provide a detailed examination of Cypriot history, a brief overview is necessary to better understand how and why filmmakers selectively use historical events in their narratives. The controversy surrounding television series such as Famagusta and Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs illustrates how dramatizations of historical moments serve broader political and cultural functions. To grasp why the Famagusta series focuses heavily on the events of 1974, while Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs emphasizes 1963 and the earlier periods of intercommunal violence, it is important first to revisit the basic contours of Cyprus’s modern history. This preliminary historical examination will not only clarify the selective framing adopted by each side but also provide insight into how political narratives and collective memories have been consciously constructed and mobilized for national and cultural purposes.Footnote 23
4.1 1963: The end of the Bi-communal Republic
British administration had ruled Cyprus since 1878, but by the 1950s, direct rule over Cyprus had started to become problematic. The British needed to find an exit road but also protect its benefits within the island. However, the decolonization process of Cyprus was different from that of other colonial territories. Unlike other cases, colonized Cyprus did not want to be independent, and two outside powers, Greece and Turkey, had an important impact on Greek Cypriot and Turkish Cypriot nationalists. Enosis , unification with Greece, and Taksim , unification of part of Cyprus with Turkey, were their main ideas about the future of the island. Cyprus is an exceptional case in British decolonization because the people did not ask for independence but instead wanted the island to join other countries, which later became the guarantors of the Republic of Cyprus (Varnava Reference Varnava2024).
The Republic of Cyprus was born out of the Zurich and London Agreements between Britain, Greece, and Turkey in 1960, and was designed as a bi-communal state where both Greek and Turkish Cypriots would share power (Faustmann Reference Faustmann2002). However, the main element of the republic, a common Cypriot identity, was not constructed (Kızılyürek Reference Kızılyürek2005). For this reason, the bi-communal Republic of Cyprus did not last long, and in December 1963, just three years after the republic was founded, violent clashes between Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots brought an abrupt end to their already fragile bi-communality within the state’s institutions. Following the breakdown, both sides began developing their own separate administrations, deepening the political and social divisions on the island (Varnava Reference Varnava2020). As attacks spread across the island, many Turkish Cypriot villages, whether directly targeted or located near conflict zones, were abandoned. Although most Turkish Cypriots had withdrawn into armed enclaves by early 1964, violence persisted through methods such as blockades, hostage situations, and armed clashes (Mansueto and Varnava Reference Mansueto and Varnava2024).
This period marks a critical turning point in Cypriot history, not only because it set the stage for the eventual division of the island, but also because it generated competing narratives of victimhood and resistance within both communities. In Turkish collective memory, 1963 is often remembered as the beginning of systemic exclusion and violence against Turkish Cypriots, a perception that plays a central role in the storyline of Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs , which opens with these traumatic events. The dramatization of 1963 in Turkish media thus reflects a broader effort to memorialize this turning point as a moment of suffering, resilience, and national awakening.
4.2 1974: The beginning of the never-ending separation
The summer of 1974 marked a profound rupture in the history of Cyprus, transforming a decade-long conflict into a permanent division. In July 1974, the Greek Junta in Greece decided to make another coup in Cyprus. The coup targeted the elected President of Cyprus, Archbishop Makarios, and proclaimed enosis on July 15. Makarios was deposed, and initial news reports falsely claimed that he had been killed (Çalışkan Reference Çalışkan2012). In contrast with the spreading news, he was not dead but had left the island. Nikos Sampson, appointed as the leader of the new regime, announced the establishment of the “Hellenic Republic of Cyprus” (Kapucu Reference Kapucu2020). Five days after the coup, on July 20, Turkey launched a military operation on the island as one of the guarantor powers of the Republic of Cyprus. Turkish Prime Minister of the period, Ecevit claimed that the intervention aimed to restore peace on the island not only for the Turkish Cypriots but also for the Greek Cypriots.Footnote 24
Following the coup and initial Turkish military intervention, negotiations regarding the future of Cyprus were promptly initiated in Geneva and London, with the participation of all relevant actors. During this period, Turkish forces established a strategic corridor connecting Kyrenia to the northern suburbs of Nicosia. According to British Foreign Secretary James Callaghan, who was directly involved in the talks, the diplomatic process reached an impasse by August 12, 1974, largely due to the uncompromising stance of the Turkish delegation led by Foreign Minister Turan Güneş (Fouskas Reference Fouskas2001). After the breakdown of negotiations, Turkey launched a second military operation on August 14, which resulted in control over approximately 37 percent of the island and the displacement of thousands of Cypriots. This second offensive raised international concerns and cast doubt on Turkey’s claim that its actions were solely intended to protect the Turkish Cypriot population. Furthermore, it strengthened Greece’s position that both military operations violated international law and the constitutional framework established in 1960 (Fouskas Reference Fouskas2001).
While the 1974 events are remembered in Turkish narratives as a “peace operation” undertaken to protect the Turkish Cypriot population, Greek Cypriot narratives overwhelmingly frame them as a “barbaric invasion” (Papadakis Reference Papadakis2003). The trauma and rupture of 1974 have remained central to Greek Cypriot collective memory, a theme that is powerfully echoed and dramatized in the Greek television series Famagusta.
5 Selective storytelling and the simulation of memory: A comparative analysis of Famagusta and Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs
The television series Famagusta and Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs offer contrasting narratives that reflect enduring divisions in how Greek and Turkish communities remember and interpret the past. This section undertakes a comparative textual reading of selected episodes, focusing on narrative strategies, thematic emphases, and representational choices through which each series constructs historical meaning, revealing how cultural productions function as sites of memory contestation in divided societies.
In Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs , the depiction of Turkish Cypriots emphasizes their vulnerability and helplessness in the face of Greek Cypriot aggression, reinforcing a narrative of dependency on mainland Turkey. The series constructs a framework in which the survival and liberation of Turkish Cypriots become possible only through the intervention of a Turkish hero figure sent from the mainland. Dr. Fazıl Küçük and Rauf Denktaş named the Turkish hero as Fevkalbeşer , which means superhuman in Turkish (Özdür et al. Reference Özdür, Başaran and İnan2021). Local resistance, represented through the Turkish Resistance Organization (TMT) fighters, is portrayed as valiant but ultimately ineffective, with many shown as either being killed or suffering defeat. Meanwhile, key historical figures such as Rauf Denktaş are initially sidelined, reduced to passive roles such as documenting events through photography, rather than leading or organizing resistance. By contrast, the Turkish agent, depicted with exaggerated strength and heroism, succeeds in reclaiming strategic positions single-handedly, illustrating the idea that salvation can only come through Turkish power (Özdür et al. Reference Özdür, Başaran and İnan2021). This narrative not only reaffirms a colonial gaze that diminishes Turkish Cypriot agency but also perpetuates the notion that Turkish Cypriots are inherently dependent on Turkey for their survival. By doing so, the series subtly legitimizes Turkey’s role as the protector and savior of Turkish Cypriots, while simultaneously reinforcing a hierarchical relationship between the mainland and the island.
This thematic construction becomes particularly evident in the early episodes of Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs , where the Turkish Cypriot community is depicted in an idyllic state of pre-conflict harmony. In their village, unaware of the dangers they will soon face, the inhabitants celebrate a local event. The narrative introduces the protagonist, Kemal, a notable figure among the community, and his family — comprising his wife, two daughters, parents, and sister. This family structure embodies an idealized model of social cohesion: the husband as breadwinner, the wife as a homemaker devoted to her husband’s family, maintaining familial harmony, and respectful of elders. However, lurking beneath this pastoral surface is the preparation for violence by Greek Cypriots aligned with EOKA, who secretly store weapons and even kill one of their own for defending Turkish neighbors. Without warning, EOKA launches a brutal assault on the Turkish Cypriot homes, killing indiscriminately — women, children, even babies in cradles. Kemal’s home is attacked; his wife and elder daughter are kidnapped by the antagonist Samson, despite the family’s desperate resistance. Meanwhile, Kemal, away on business, inadvertently carries his younger daughter, who has hidden in his car. Upon his return, he finds devastation: his father injured, his house burned, his friend’s family murdered. The survivors are forced to flee to safety, beginning a long journey of suffering (Özdür et al. Reference Özdür, Başaran and İnan2021, E01).
While concepts such as myth, simulation, and nostalgia help illuminate specific dimensions of these narratives, Hall’s framework provides the primary analytical structure through which representational choices and their ideological implications are interpreted (Hall Reference Hall and Stuart1997; Barthes Reference Barthes and Lavers1972; Baudrillard Reference Baudrillard and Glaser1994; Boym Reference Boym2001). This sequence can be read through Hall’s encoding/decoding model, where meaning is actively constructed by producers rather than passively mirrored (Hall Reference Hall and Stuart1997). Here, the encoding of Turkish Cypriots as innocent, idealized victims contrasts sharply with Greek Cypriots encoded as brutal aggressors, offering viewers a preferred reading aligned with nationalist sentiments. Furthermore, Jean Baudrillard’s notion of simulation is crucial: the idyllic Turkish Cypriot village and Kemal’s idealized family are not representations of a historical reality but simulacra — an imagined, purified community constructed to heighten emotional resonance and moral contrast (Baudrillard Reference Baudrillard and Glaser1994). The destruction of this simulacrum intensifies the call for Turkish mainland intervention as the only path to salvation. In this sense, the audience is not watching history but consuming a carefully curated simulation that feels more real than any complex, messy historical truth — a hallmark of Baudrillard’s concept of hyperreality.
Similarly, the narrative of Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs can be analyzed through Roland Barthes’ concept of myth. As Barthes argues, myth functions ideologically by naturalizing cultural constructions, transforming historical narratives into seemingly obvious, “natural” truths (Barthes Reference Barthes and Lavers1972). The portrayal of Turkish Cypriots as pure victims and Turkey as the heroic savior presents a historically contingent political relationship as if it were timeless, inevitable, and moral. By packaging history as myth, the series masks its ideological work, encouraging viewers to accept its version of events as commonsensical rather than politically constructed. Thus, Turkish intervention is rendered not as a complex geopolitical decision but as the only natural and righteous response to historical necessity.
It is important to note that at some point, Derviş and Kemal walk among the wreckage of their village, calling out to their Greek Cypriot neighbors to open their doors and help those suffering. Their unanswered pleas underscore the depiction of Greek Cypriots as betrayers who have abandoned moral and communal bonds (Özdür et al. Reference Özdür, Başaran and İnan2021, E01 55:50). In Pierre Nora’s terms, the ruined village becomes a lieu de mémoire — a material site where collective trauma is preserved, and memory becomes an active, political process rather than a natural continuation of lived experience (Nora Reference Nora1989).
Another notable aspect of Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs is its treatment of language and cultural authenticity. Despite portraying Turkish Cypriot characters, all the actors speak in standard Turkish with a mainland Turkish accent, rather than using the distinct Cypriot Turkish dialect. Ironically, it is often Greek Cypriot characters who mimic Cypriot Turkish accents, creating a distorted linguistic landscape that further marginalizes the authenticity of Turkish Cypriot identity. The limited presence of actors from Cyprus and the dominance of mainland Turkish speech patterns reflect a broader cultural erasure, presenting Turkish Cypriots through the lens — and the language — of mainland Turkey (Özdür et al. Reference Özdür, Başaran and İnan2021). This dynamic subtly reinforces the hierarchical relationship between Turkey and Cyprus, suggesting that Turkish Cypriot experiences are only valid or intelligible when mediated through Turkish mainland norms. This attitude is also evident in dialogue choices that belittle Cypriot culture. In one scene, the protagonist Kemal remarks to a British character, “You have become just like a Cypriot, putting a chair under your feet and napping all day.” (Özdür et al. Reference Özdür, Başaran and İnan2021, E01 20:18). Such lines perpetuate stereotypes of Turkish Cypriots as lazy, ineffective, and culturally inferior. Rather than presenting Turkish Cypriots as autonomous historical actors with their own distinctive identity, the series portrays them as passive figures in need of external rescue — both politically and symbolically — thus aligning with a broader colonial narrative that centers Turkey as the ultimate savior and civilizing force (Özdür et al. Reference Özdür, Başaran and İnan2021).
In a pivotal scene in Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs, Dr. Fazıl Küçük expresses frustration over Ankara’s failure to respond decisively to the violence in Cyprus, prompting Rauf Denktaş to remark, “if only a government could be established first.” (Özdür et al. Reference Özdür, Başaran and İnan2021, E03 20:19) While this line ostensibly refers to Turkey’s domestic political instability in 1963 — when a new coalition government led by İsmet İnönü had just been formed — it also serves a deeper ideological function within the series. Despite the establishment of a new government, Turkey’s intervention was limited to symbolic actions such as warning flights (Göktürk Reference Göktürk2014). By portraying Denktaş’s lament in this way, the series implicitly criticizes the inefficiencies of the former parliamentary system, which was marked by fragile coalitions and slow decision-making processes. This narrative framing subtly aligns with contemporary political discourse in Turkey that legitimizes the transition to a presidential system, portraying it as a necessary correction to the weaknesses of parliamentary governance. The dramatization suggests that only a strong, centralized leadership could have effectively protected Turkish Cypriots in times of crisis. By minimizing references to the historical caution of the İnönü government and emphasizing the paralysis of coalition politics, Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs retrospectively projects current political ideals onto past events, reinforcing nationalist narratives that favor decisive, unilateral action.
In Famagusta, the narrative constructs a more pluralistic and introspective account, foregrounding the Greek Cypriot experience of loss while also acknowledging the pain suffered by Turkish Cypriots. The series centers on the character of Christina, a successful academic who has dedicated her life to recovering lost Cypriot artifacts and memory. Christina lives with her husband Andreas, a respected lawyer, their three adult children, and her elderly father, who represents the older generation bearing direct memories of the island’s violent past. The family dynamic is shaped profoundly by trauma: Christina has spent nearly 50 years mourning her missing son, a baby who disappeared during the Turkish intervention of 1974. The unresolved fate of her child has rendered the entire family emotionally fragile, suspended between the present and a frozen moment of loss. Alongside the family, the series introduces Michael, a young Greek Cypriot journalist who returns to Cyprus to make a documentary about the island’s missing persons. His interviews with various survivors serve as a narrative device, allowing Famagusta to weave between past and present, individual and collective memory (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024).
The series explicitly distances itself from blanket ethnonationalism: characters speak of shared trauma, express a desire for mutual understanding, and refer to the Turkish Cypriot community with empathy — particularly in scenes addressing missing persons and postwar suffering. The opening credits symbolically divide the island with a tear across a paper map, underscoring the theme of irreversible fragmentation (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024).
In contrast to Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs , Famagusta employs a contemporary narrative frame that makes the series more accessible to a modern audience. Set in the present day, the story revisits the events of 1974 through the lens of a documentary project about the island’s missing persons, using interviews and flashbacks as narrative devices (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024). However, the portrayal of the pre-1974 period is notably simplified: the series largely omits the intercommunal violence of the 1960s and presents the Turkish intervention as a sudden and unprovoked act that divided the island. In one telling scene, a Greek Cypriot character remarks, “We never expected such a tragedy” (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024, E04 38:59), reinforcing a perception of abrupt victimization. While Famagusta does attempt a more inclusive narrative by acknowledging the suffering of Turkish Cypriots, it nonetheless portrays Turkish Cypriots as politically and militarily subordinate to Turkey. Turkish Cypriots appear as another group of victims who, despite their losses, are depicted as having no choice but to align with the Turkish mainland. This perspective is underscored when a Greek Cypriot character notes, “Only Turkish Cypriots who have also lost loved ones can truly understand our pain” (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024, E04 33:43). Turkish Cypriots are first mentioned explicitly only in the second episode, suggesting their secondary narrative status. Although the series shows efforts toward reconciliation — such as references to solidarity after the February 6, 2023, earthquake and calls for empathy across communities (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024, E04 34:12) — it simultaneously maintains an implicit hierarchy, with Turkish Cypriots portrayed as passive figures trapped between larger forces (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024). In this way, Famagusta blends a rhetoric of shared suffering with underlying assumptions about political dependency and historical innocence, subtly reinforcing Greek Cypriot perspectives on the conflict. Together, Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta illustrate how cultural productions selectively reconstruct collective memory in ways that align with contemporary national narratives. While Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs emphasizes Turkish Cypriot helplessness and frames salvation as achievable only through Turkish mainland intervention, thereby reinforcing a narrative of dependency, Famagusta seeks to universalize suffering but simultaneously marginalizes Turkish Cypriots by portraying them as politically subordinate and historically secondary.
This empathetic yet selective memory construction is rooted in Svetlana Boym’s concept of reflective nostalgia — a mourning of the irretrievable past rather than a desire for its full restoration (Boym Reference Boym2001). Set in modern-day Cyprus, Famagusta presents its narrative through flashbacks and contemporary interviews, blending personal memory with historical events. Christina, a successful academic, represents a family devastated by the loss of her baby during the 1974 intervention. The absence of closure surrounding her son — classified among the missing — structures the family’s emotional and psychological life, symbolizing how national traumas shape private lives across generations (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024).
In the first episode, Christina revisits her ruined family home in Famagusta, finding remnants of her lost life: furniture broken, photographs scattered, the baby’s cradle still standing amidst the debris (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024, E01 27:08). Simultaneously, the screen shows an interview with a Greek Cypriot woman who recounts the execution of the men in her neighborhood by Turkish soldiers, yet also recalls a Turkish soldier who helped them, whom she likens to an angel sent by God (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024, E01 47:10). This complex portrayal acknowledges moments of human solidarity even amidst collective violence, complicating the binary victim-aggressor narrative.
Nevertheless, the dominant interviews conducted by Michael portray Turkish forces as executing cold-blooded violence against Greek Cypriots. Turkish Cypriots are occasionally acknowledged as fellow sufferers, suggesting a limited solidarity, but their political agency remains marginalized (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024). In Baudrillard’s terms, Famagusta presents a hyperreal Cyprus: a Cyprus where suffering is real but mediated through layers of narrative simplifications that ultimately reinforce Greek Cypriot perspectives (Baudrillard Reference Baudrillard and Glaser1994).
Moreover, following Barthes’ concept of myth, Famagusta transforms the collective trauma of the Greek Cypriot community into a broader myth of innocence and victimhood. By omitting the complexity of earlier intercommunal violence and simplifying the Turkish intervention into a unilateral act of brutality, the series naturalizes Greek Cypriot moral superiority as an unquestionable truth (Barthes Reference Barthes and Lavers1972). The constructed narrative thus becomes a cultural myth that serves contemporary needs for political legitimacy and international sympathy, rather than a nuanced historical engagement.
In contrast to Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs , which frames Archbishop Makarios as complicit in EOKA’s violence and Greek nationalist ambitions, Famagusta presents him as a moderating figure who opposes the extremism of the Greek junta, and the violence associated with EOKA (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024, E5 02:44). This narrative choice reflects Famagusta’s broader attempt to reclaim Makarios as a symbol of peaceful resistance and a lost Cyprus of coexistence. Rather than depicting him solely as a political actor aligned with nationalism, the series positions Makarios as a tragic figure caught between conflicting forces (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024). This reimagining resonates with Svetlana Boym’s concept of reflective nostalgia, where the past is not idealized for restoration but mourned as irrecoverable, evoking a longing for a fragmented, pluralistic world that can no longer be fully retrieved (Boym Reference Boym2001). By framing Makarios as a figure of failed coexistence rather than a pure nationalist, Famagusta aligns itself with a vision of memory that is introspective and self-critical, contrasting sharply with the restorative and heroic memory frameworks observed in Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs .
Both Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta engage with the colonial legacies embedded in the Cyprus conflict, yet they do so from opposing ideological standpoints. In Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs , Turkey is portrayed as a liberating force, yet the narrative inadvertently reasserts a colonial dynamic by framing Turkish Cypriots as dependent, culturally subordinate, and politically passive. The series reproduces a hierarchy in which salvation, agency, and legitimacy originate solely from the Turkish mainland, echoing colonial patterns of protectorate relationships masked under the rhetoric of brotherhood and unity.
Conversely, Famagusta presents Turkey’s 1974 intervention as an imperial act, depicting Turkish forces as aggressors who unilaterally reshape the island’s demographic and political landscape. While the series critiques Greek nationalism — especially through its portrayal of Makarios as a moderating figure — it simultaneously positions Turkish Cypriots as peripheral to the main narrative of victimhood and resistance (Dimitriou and Georgiou Reference Dimitriou and Georgiou2024). This framing mirrors colonial narratives wherein one community’s suffering legitimizes the marginalization of another.
Thus, both series reflect and reproduce colonial legacies: Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs internalizes and normalizes a hierarchical relationship under the guise of rescue, while Famagusta externalizes Turkey’s role as an occupying imperial power. In doing so, each production mobilizes historical memory to sustain contemporary political discourses rooted in national identity, territorial legitimacy, and collective victimhood.
6 Conclusion
This comparative analysis of Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta demonstrates how historical television dramas serve as critical sites for the negotiation and contestation of national narratives, colonial legacies, and political discourses. Far from being neutral retellings of the past, both series engage in strategic representations that selectively frame historical events to align with contemporary political agendas in Turkey and Greece, respectively.
Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs constructs a mythologized narrative wherein Turkish Cypriots are portrayed as vulnerable dependents requiring salvation by the Turkish mainland, thus reinforcing a paternalistic, neo-colonial relationship disguised under the rhetoric of fraternity and protection. The instrumentalization of historical drama on TRT extends beyond cultural representation. It functions as a strategic component of Turkey’s broader political-economic influence over the Turkish Cypriot community. By framing the Cyprus conflict through a state-sanctioned memory regime, Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs serves to synchronize Northern Cyprus’s domestic narrative with Ankara’s “two-state solution” policy. This televisual intervention aligns with the AKP regime’s increasing involvement in TRNC affairs, where cultural production acts as a tool of “soft power” that reinforces a hierarchical, protectorate relationship. Moreover, through the construction of Turkish Cypriots primarily as “victimized subjects” in need of salvation, the series reproduces the contemporary isolation of the community, reinforcing the narrative that they are inherently alone and that Turkey is their only possible savior. This portrayal suggests that without Turkey’s intervention, Northern Cyprus and its people are reduced to perpetual victimhood. Consequently, this narrative serves to legitimize any form of intervention, political pressure, or influence exercised by Ankara over the TRNC’s internal affairs, presenting such actions not as a breach of autonomy but as a justified and necessary extension of Turkey’s historical role as a protector. The series does not merely narrate the past; it actively shapes the symbolic boundaries of sovereignty, effectively utilizing state media to secure political legitimacy for Turkey’s contemporary geopolitical claims and its enduring economic and institutional presence on the island.
Similarly, although Famagusta was produced for a private broadcaster (MEGA TV), its alignment with the Greek state’s official 50th anniversary commemorative agenda illustrates a comparable instrumentalization of historical memory. In the context of Greece’s post-crisis media landscape, where private channels often operate within fragile economic structures and maintain close ties to political patronage, the production of such high-stakes historical drama serves both commercial interests and national ideological stabilization. Accordingly, Famagusta foregrounds Greek Cypriot victimhood, aestheticizing loss and displacement while marginalizing the experiences of Turkish Cypriots, thereby reinforcing a one-dimensional narrative of unilateral suffering and moral innocence.
Both series employ narrative strategies that transform complex historical realities into simplified, emotionally resonant myths, aligning closely with Roland Barthes’s notion of myth as a naturalized ideological structure and Jean Baudrillard’s concept of hyperreality, where mediated representations increasingly substitute for historical reality itself. By aestheticizing trauma and national identity, these dramas do not merely recall the past — they reconstruct it according to the demands of contemporary cultural diplomacy, memory politics, and national identity formation.
Importantly, access to these cultural products reflects the different political sensitivities surrounding them: Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs remains widely accessible internationally through platforms like YouTube, reaching a broad Turkish-speaking audience, whereas Famagusta was released only within Greece, with its access limited outside the country due to political pressure, particularly from Turkey. While both series consist of 24 episodes, their production trajectories diverged significantly. Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs was prematurely ended due to declining domestic ratings, resulting in a rushed conclusion where the critical historical moment of the 1974 intervention is only fleetingly depicted. In the final episode, viewers do not see the direct depiction of the 1974 events; instead, the intervention is represented through indirect means — such as the sounds of jets flying overhead and characters reacting to unseen arrivals — suggesting a conscious decision to avoid complex visual dramatization, possibly influenced by the broadcaster’s decision to conclude the series early (Özdür et al. Reference Özdür, Başaran and İnan2021, E24). By contrast, Famagusta was intentionally structured to culminate in the 50th anniversary of the 1974 intervention, giving it a more deliberate narrative closure aligned with commemorative practices and national memory politics.
The political controversies surrounding the releases of Bir Zamanlar Kıbrıs and Famagusta further highlight their instrumentalization in the broader struggle over historical memory and legitimacy. As cultural artifacts, both series illustrate how media can simultaneously revive colonial narratives and fuel contemporary geopolitical tensions. Through selective storytelling, emotional appeals, and symbolic framing, television dramas like these not only shape collective memory but also contribute to the ongoing contestation of identity, sovereignty, and justice in post-conflict Cyprus.
Ultimately, this study highlights that the use of history in contemporary media is not about faithfully recovering the past, but about reimagining it to serve present needs. In divided societies like Cyprus, where memory itself is a battleground, historical dramas become crucial instruments for articulating, contesting, and sustaining national myths — myths that continue to shape identities, influence political discourse, and structure the possibilities for reconciliation or continued division.
Acknowledgments
This work was presented at the 29th Annual World Convention of ASN before being turned into an article. We would like to thank the panelists at the convention and TÜBİTAK (the Scientific and Technological Research Council of Turkey) for providing financial support to participate.
Disclosure
None.
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