The Icon Hunter

by Tasoula Georgiou Hadjitofi

  “Good morning,” I call the meeting to order. Everyone sits at a rectangular table.

  Van Rijn sits next to me, asserting his position as my spokesman.

  “Gentlemen, thank you for receiving me today, and I want to thank Mr. Van Rijn for making this introduction. For the record, he neither represents the Church of Cyprus nor the Cypriot government, and it is for this reason that I wish to discuss the details about the Royal Doors without his presence.”

  Van Rijn is livid.

  Facing the lawyers, I say, “I come here in good faith without legal representation to make a personal plea on behalf of the people of Cyprus.”

  The lawyers and professors confirm that the Royal Doors are at the Kanazawa College of Art, and I am welcome to go and see them the next day. They tell me they were purchased from a gallery in Holland that belonged to Roozemond, and their position is that they had no idea that they were stolen. I tell the lawyers about the conflict and the cultural cleansing that took place in Cyprus. I show proof of provenance for the Royal Doors that Mr. Papageorgiou has supplied. They hold each piece of evidence up to the light to scrutinize. They are not convinced that the records are authentic, and through their interpreter they ask to see documents that are officially stamped by the government, along with photographs of the doors prior to the war. And sadly, this kind of photograph does not exist in our records, and so I must try another angle.

  “You know, gentlemen, that in 1990 Cyprus won a landmark case, which set the precedent that once something is proven stolen it cannot receive good title.”

  “That is American law, Madame. I would like to read about this case. Perhaps you can send a copy to me. We will also require proof of your consulship and a power of attorney to confirm that you have permission to negotiate on the Church’s behalf,” says Shiro Kuniya, the spokesperson for the legal team.

  “You’ll have all the documentation you need this afternoon, but in return I would like to see the Royal Doors,” I say.

  “We have scheduled an appointment for you at eleven A.M. tomorrow.”

  From my hotel room, I spend the rest of the afternoon confirming what transpired in my meeting with the lawyers representing Kanazawa College and secure the requested paperwork.17 Feeling guilty about the fact that Michael is stuck in the hotel room helping me, I ask reception to recommend an authentic local restaurant, not one catering to tourists. She writes the name of a restaurant in Japanese, which we hand to a taxi driver.

  A short distance away in the middle of a busy shopping area, we find the door to the restaurant to be so low that Michael and I practically bend in half to enter. The restaurant is informal in style with a large circular sushi train dominating the room. Michael and I take seats and eye the individual dishes of sushi and sashimi as they move slowly past us on the conveyor belt. Although Michael and I often eat sushi, there is such a great variety of fresh fish, and many of the dishes are unknown to us. This restaurant has stimulated our taste buds, and Michael and I are grateful for some much needed time to relax together.

  “I can’t believe what you are up against between the lawyers, the games that Van Rijn plays, and the fact that the law itself doesn’t side with you. A college of art should know to do their due diligence and should be held accountable for purchasing stolen property,” Michael says.

  “Let’s see what tomorrow brings.”

  We take our empty plates to the cashier, who charges by the dish for the dinner.

  Michael places his arm around me.

  “It means the world to me that you are here, my darling,” I say, placing my head on his shoulder. He maneuvers his body to kiss me, and as he pulls away he says, “One day at a time, my love.”

  KANAZAWA COLLEGE OF ART

  As we travel to the college, Van Rijn says to Michael, “Did Tazulaah tell you how she embarrassed me yesterday? Kicked me out of the meeting like a dog.” He turns to me and says, “You are not going to do that to me today. I won’t allow that.”

  “Outside is exactly where you will be during this meeting again. If you want your money, you will let me finish my business,” I say. I realize that he has lied to me once again and that the Japanese lawyers are not ready to give the doors back, contrary to what Van Rijn initially said.

  He turns to Michael and says, “Can you please tell her this is no way to treat the person who is here to help her?”

  I make a facial expression that lets Van Rijn know he is not the help he believes himself to be. He has had his hand in and has made money from every stolen artifact, including the Royal Doors. He has led me around the world with the understanding that the Japanese would hand the doors over freely, and now I face a possible civil case in Japan, too. “She is the honorary consul. She calls the shots. I will remain outside here with you,” says Michael, not taking the bait.

  Kanazawa College of Art is a small municipal college for art and industrial design which is a several hour train ride from Osaka. The city of Kanazawa itself is admired as a cultural center of traditional arts and crafts. We are led inside a series of rooms decorated with sculptures by the French artist Auguste Rodin. I see the Royal Doors mounted upright on a transparent base supported with wire and provided with a Japanese plaque. The doors, with their Byzantine detail, look so out of place. Just the sight of them brings back so many memories from my childhood in Famagusta. Seeing them among these relatively modern paintings stirs my emotions. These are the doors that my grandmother and mother prayed before. I visualize them inside the church from which they came, and it unnerves me. Van Rijn asks me to stand next to them, and he takes a photograph for me. We admire them for a few minutes. Van Rijn and Michael stay behind as I move on to join the awaiting professors.

  Professors Tsuneo Ueda and Katsuyuki Nakanishi are present but the director of the university is not in attendance.

  “Where is the director?” I ask.

  Mr. Nakanishi replies, “He is busy. He sends his apologies, but he can’t meet you today.”

  “What about his deputy or the secretary of the college?”

  “They are busy, too,” says Mr. Ueda. “You should speak to Mr. Kuniya, the attorney representing the university.”

  “I came here to discuss this with the director of the college to see if we can find an amicable way to end this dispute.”

  “That is a decision that only the mayor of Kanazawa can take, because the doors were purchased with taxpayer money, as we are a municipal college. Unless we are compensated for the money we spent, we cannot return them.”

  Although the lawyer is not present today, the response to every question about their intentions is for me to contact their attorney. I, in turn, request a copy of the legal export license and a receipt of purchase that they would have had to have received from Cyprus in order to prove that the university purchased the doors legally. Negotiations continue to deteriorate, and I end the meeting by giving them forty-eight hours to decide whether the mayor will be handling things or their lawyer.

  Van Rijn goes on to Tokyo to promote his book launch there. Michael and I take the train back to the hotel, where he tells me that Van Rijn confessed to him that the Rodins that the rooms at the college filled with were all fake.

  “We are expecting them to know about Byzantine art from the churches of Cyprus, and here they are teaching modern art, and they can’t tell a fake Rodin from a real one,” I say.

  When I arrive back at the hotel, I call the mayor of Kanazawa’s office asking for a meeting. His assistant tries to fit in an appointment.18 An hour later the mayor’s assistant calls, saying, “The Kanasawa College of Art says there is no need for you to meet the mayor; they will deal with you directly.”

  I feel that they are hiding behind each other forcing me to start a civil case.

  Van Rijn sends a fax to the hotel: “Dear Golden Couple, Tazulaah would have made a great art dealer who would put me out of business.” Van Rijn goes on to brag that he does not rely on the archbishop’s money, that he installed a
fax machine in his private hotel suite in Tokyo, and that he will not leave Japan until he hears about the latest developments.19

  The following morning Michael and I are preparing to leave for the airport when Van Rijn calls the hotel.

  “You are famous in Japan, woman! The Asahi Shimbun is the largest newspaper in Japan, and you and the Royal Doors are all over it.”

  I arrange for the hotel to send me up a copy, and there is a picture of me standing next to the Royal Doors and an article about how Van Rijn discovered the stolen artifacts and led me as honorary consul to repatriate them. His motives become perfectly clear. I always knew that it’s been about the launch of his book, but now I see his motives for wanting to try to negotiate for the Royal Doors. The Royal Doors enabled him to receive the news coverage he wanted to promote his book. Plus, the more he associates himself with me, the more he sells himself as being legitimate.20 The Asahi Shimbun news coverage could have put some embarrassing pressure on the university, but instead it deepened the line in the sand between us.

  Sixteen

  NO PEACE

  As the tulip season fades in the Netherlands, the Royal Doors impasse with Kanazawa College continues to develop. For the past several months, I have appealed to the people of Cyprus to sign a petition for the return of the Royal Doors, reached out to Cypriot groups to organize demonstrations at the college, and gained the interest of a Japanese journalist, Kunihiro Yamada. I hope to place pressure on the Japanese to come to the table to negotiate so that the Church does not have to initiate a civil suit.1, 2 The Japanese court will have jurisdiction over this case. Since the Dutch and Japanese laws are similar with regards to “good faith,” it will come down to the reputation of the dealer and the method in which the doors were purchased. In this case, despite what I know about Roozemond, I can’t prove that he is not a legitimate dealer, and the professor from Kanazawa who purchased the doors from Roozemond professes his innocence about their history and feels they are not required by law to return the doors to Cyprus. This gives us no other choice but to threaten legal action unless they cooperate.3 The cost of a trial in Japan will be substantial and it could drag on for years.4 I report to the ministry on the steps taken and what evidence has been provided and request that all media for this case be co-coordinated through me.5

  Vara television in the Netherlands is producing a program for their series Zembla which will highlight the illicit art trade and interview me, Polak, and the archbishop in relation to the Lans case.6 Van Rijn approaches Geraldine Norman, a renowned English writer from the Independent, regarding the case of the Royal Doors.7 Although pleased to have an introduction, I ask him to stop reaching out to the media on my behalf. As much as I welcome publicity for the cases, I must protect my reputation. Four days later Van Rijn is prevented from entering Malta because he is on a special “swindlers list” of Interpol.8

  The mounting legal fees of the Church influence me to start petitioning the Cypriot government for support. There is resistance from the government yet again. I’m constantly asked by bureaucrats to provide summary explanations of the issues, and most of the time they go unaddressed. Now we have the Lans case in the Netherlands, a possible case emerging in Japan, and a civil case that has already been lingering in the courts for six years in Greece under Kyprianou’s supervision.

  As long as the Lans civil case is ongoing, the government of Holland will not intercede in the case. Polak advises that if he drops the civil case on behalf of the Church, the Dutch government will then be able to invoke the protocol. The new minister of foreign affairs, Ioannis Kasoulides, will have to repeat the steps of his predecessor and send another letter to the Dutch government requesting them to invoke the protocol.

  In June, Polak and I meet with Dutch cultural and legal advisers to discuss the Lans case further. It turns out that the minister’s advisers take the position that the Protocol needs to be implemented in Dutch law in order to be effective, a step the Netherlands had never taken, despite the fact that it ratified the Protocol in 1958 and it entered into force in 1959. We take the position that no implementation is needed, feeling the Protocol is self-executing. The meetings end in a stalemate.9 Polak and I continue to search for a way forward.

  Despite continuous efforts by our attorney in Japan to entice Kanazawa College to work with us, it claims that we have not fully demonstrated the identity of the Royal Doors. The college intimates that they might be open to accept an exchange for another icon.10 Polak knows the technicality of the laws and asks the Japanese law firm to investigate if, under Japanese conflict of law rules, Cypriot law may apply. Mr. Polak is implying that Cypriot export prohibition rules must actually be followed in Japan, in the event that the doctrine of “Eingriffsnormen” (super mandatory law) is applied, meaning foreign law would take precedence in lieu of what would normally be governed by Japanese law.11

  On June 26, I send additional documents of identification for the Royal Doors along with information about Roozemond’s knowledge that the doors belonged to Cyprus. The Church counters their request for another “icon” with an option to exchange the Royal Doors for a famous copy of an icon that will be specially made for them by Cypriot monks. The archbishop also offers to host two Japanese representatives to return the doors to Cyprus.12 The Japanese college declines my offer to exchange the Royal Doors for an icon replica. The Japanese paid 14 million yen ($140,000) for the Royal Doors, and if they are reimbursed for that amount, they will consider returning the doors to Cyprus.13 Even the former president of Cyprus, George Vassiliou gets involved in trying to secure the return of the Royal Doors and instructs one of his personal contacts to intercede on his behalf.14 The president’s contact believes the Japanese will come around,15 but then a few days later I am informed that the college will not return the Royal Doors. Every other option seems to be exhausted. If Cyprus wants the doors, they will have to take legal action.16

  With challenges continuing to mount, I become cognizant of the bitter fact that being on the side of right does not guarantee justice. I suggest that journalist Willem van der Post from Algemeen Dagblad do a story about the cultural cleansing that took place in Cyprus following the war, and I set up interviews for him with the archbishop, Cypriot government officials, and attorney Polak, hoping that at least telling the story to the wider public will be a ray of positive light to our situation in the midst of all the mounting legal battles.

  In the article, the archbishop does not name the Dutch dealers in order to prevent further legal action. He does say that the same two Dutch dealers’ names appear repeatedly whenever there are cases to do with stolen icons from Cyprus and profiles me as a worldwide coordinator of repatriation cases. When the journalist questions the minister of foreign affairs in Cyprus about the government’s involvement in the repatriation efforts, Alecos Shambos responds that in the fall the Cypriots will establish an embassy in The Hague, and one of the duties of the new ambassador will be seeing to the return of stolen icons.17

  My eyes circle back to reread the section again. How is it possible that I would not be given the courtesy of a phone call telling me that an ambassadorial position is being created in The Hague and specifically that one of the roles of the new diplomat will be handling repatriation efforts for stolen Cypriot artifacts? The archbishop is also unaware.

  “I’m not surprised,” the archbishop says. “As an honorary consul, you are not supposed to outshine paid career diplomats, and this is what you are guilty of.”

  I place a call to the ministry to inquire about the issue.

  “We are opening embassies in all European Union countries to support our entry into the European Union. I expect you to give the new ambassador your cooperation and help him to establish himself,” says the director.

  “Of course,” I say. “May I inquire about the status of the MFA’s letter to invoke the protocol in the case of the Lanses?” I say.

  “Take it up with the new ambassador when he arrives,” he says.

>   Alecos Zenon, the son-in-law of Judge Andreas Loizou, whom I greatly admire, is the new ambassador to the Netherlands. Judge Loizou was the president of the Supreme Court and a catalyst in my appointment as honorary consul. I volunteer to establish the new Cyprus embassy in The Hague, and handle the countless professional and personal details involved in making the ambassador’s relocation a smooth transition. By the time the ambassador arrives in early October, everything is ready for him to begin his work. I hold the belief that the friendship I once established with the judge and his family will make for a positive working relationship between the new ambassador and me.

  To my surprise, dealer Robert Roozemond reacts to the Algemeen Dagblad article condemning the archbishop and me in an open letter to the Archbishop.18 Roozemond takes great offense at the archbishop’s comments, feeling that he will be unfairly regarded with suspicion as one of the two unnamed Dutch art dealers cited by the archbishop in the article. Roozemond accuses me of damaging the interests of Cyprus as honorary consul and names Van Rijn as the dealer involved with stolen Cypriot art. He says that my association with Van Rijn taints me as being involved with the international criminal trade.19

  Roozemond’s open letter to the archbishop and comments to Vara are very upsetting to me. I fax the letter to Polak, and we decide to respond strongly to Roozemond’s slander and libelous statements.20 The archbishop supports me with the full power of his office and responds with a point-by-point rebuttal of Roozemond’s accusations.21 Despite the absurdity of Roozemond’s statement, the timing of his letter could not be worse. The Roozemond letter will not help our position concerning the Royal Doors, as it will divert attention away from the important issue. Roozemond manages to give me the equivalent of an emotional knockout. I choose not to retaliate against Roozemond with a lawsuit needing instead to conserve all my energy for the repatriation cases.