Face of the force, Michael Katsounotos (Photo Christos Theodorides)

As police spokesman, Michael Katsounotos is the face of the force, although it a position he never planned on, he tells THEO PANAYIDES

Michael Katsounotos is a busy man. We only have half an hour, in the businesslike surroundings of the Press Office at Police Headquarters, and his mobile rings five times in that half-hour. The first and fourth times, he ignores the call after glancing at the number. The second time, it’s his wife Olga (“Sorry, I have to take this…”). The third time, it’s someone – presumably a journalist – asking about a case of antiquities theft that’s currently under investigation. The fifth time, it’s another journalist asking about the same case. Michael supplies information, but says there won’t be any official statement pending new developments. The journalist insists; Michael listens, trying to get a word in edgewise. “Can I ask you something?” he finally asks. “Why are you all so aggressive with me?”

It’s said with a smile, of course. The smile hardly ever leaves his face, often expanding into a toothy laugh. His is a complicated face, because the eyes aren’t the wide-open eyes you’d expect from someone who laughs so often; they’re almond-shaped, with a sly, sometimes calculating glint about them – yet the lower half of the face is lively and candid, inviting you to laugh along. The way he speaks also puts one at ease, peppering his eloquent Greek with “Can I tell you something?” or – as with that journalist on the phone – “Can I ask you something?” a (doubtless unconscious) formulation that works in two ways. First, in making you feel you have control, as if he’s asking your permission to proceed. Second, in making you feel special, as if what he’s about to say has been designed only for you.

It may seem like we’ve devoted too much space to irrelevant details – but in fact the details of how Michael Katsounotos communicates are relevant, because communication is his game. As anyone who watches TV will know, Michael is the Police Spokesperson, and he’s doing that job at a delicate time. “We’re in the midst of an effort to restore both the status of the Police and the trust of the public,” he admits, adding: “Every Cypriot citizen – in fact, the whole of Cyprus society – must trust and embrace the Police Force, because it’s an organisation that cares for the good of society, and is committed to social welfare.”

All this is fallout from the notorious Kitas case, which exposed deep fissures and corruption within the Force – hence Michael’s repeated insistence that “We’re in favour of full transparency”. Bad cops are being systematically identified and rooted out, he says; nothing will be swept under the carpet from now on. Still, there’s no doubt the Police are going through a time of radical restructuring, further complicated by EU accession and the new obligations it’s brought: there’s a real shortage of personnel, admits Michael, because new Departments have had to be created – an office to fight cyber-crime, another to combat terrorism – and cops pulled from ordinary police-work in order to staff them.

Radical times call for radical measures – hence perhaps his own appointment as the voice (and face) of the Force, accountable directly to the Chief. “I never expected,” he admits with a smile, “that I’d get to where I am so quickly.”

He’s 40 years old, and very much a policeman – he’s been part of the Force since 1991, now with the rank of Chief Inspector – but also, it turns out, an accidental policeman. “I won’t hide from you,” says Michael, “that I joined the Police by accident. It wasn’t really my wish, I just happened into it”. He hastens to add that, having joined, he loved the job from Day One – but I also get the impression that he saw it mostly as an opportunity, to “expand my horizons” as he puts it.

He’d been studying Hotel Management in the UK, did a Foundation course but subsequently had to drop out “for financial reasons”. He came back to Cyprus, barely out of his teens, probably ambitious (at least judging by his dynamic style as a 40-year-old) but lacking the funds to proceed with his ambitions – so he sat the Police exams, graduated from the Police Academy, then took advantage of the perks on offer to go to Athens Law School and get a Law degree. Most would’ve stopped there, using the degree as a weapon to bolster their career in the Force – but Michael went further, taking unpaid leave to work in a law office and earn himself a lawyer’s licence (he could quit the Police, renew his licence and practise Law tomorrow, if he wanted), then fortified himself even further with post-graduate courses. He did a stint at the FBI Academy, then attended the School of National Security in Greece for a course on ‘Strategy and Mapping of National Security Policy’.

It adds up to a pretty impressive CV, raising the obvious question: ‘What drives Michael Katsounotos, and where does he hope to end up?’ Unfortunately, this is where we hit a snag, because Michael doesn’t like to talk about himself much. He could wax lyrical on the New Improved Police Force all day – at least if he weren’t interrupted by those pesky phone calls – but ask him about his own beliefs and he’s suddenly coy: “That’s a difficult question,” he begins – not because he doesn’t know the answer, but because he isn’t sure how to phrase it. “I wouldn’t like to characterise myself…”

Well, is he liberal or conservative?

“I wouldn’t say I’m conservative, but on the other hand I wouldn’t say I go to extremes. Due to my position, I have to be very careful”.

So how would he describe himself?

“What I can say,” he replies with a wry smile, “is that I’m a workaholic. And I’m also a person with a great deal of stress.”

Much of that is down to his current job, with its constant demands and long hours – made even longer by the fact that he lives in Limassol (he comes from the village of Ypsonas), so he gets up at 4.30 every morning, leaves the house around 5.30 and comes to the office around 6.30, where he typically puts in a 12-hour day before commuting back and doing it all over again the next morning.

The impact of the job on his family life – he has two kids, 14-year-old Mary and 11-year-old Lambros – has been immense, admits Michael: “From the day I started as Media Spokesman, I’ve paid a price in terms of my personal life and social life… As you realise, I have no time left for myself, hardly any for my family, and none at all for social commitments. Before I came here I was very reliable in my social life, now I’ve become unreliable – and in fact I’m often criticised, so to speak, by friends and acquaintances for having completely deserted them!” The situation with his kids is even worse, he adds ruefully: “Every parent needs to offer both quality and quantity of time [to his children]. To be honest, I don’t – and I feel guilty.”

That reminds me of something he said earlier, about lack of respect for the Police being due (irrespective of mistakes that may have been made by the Police) to a “general loosening of social institutions” in Cyprus – including, of course, the family. His son Lambros will soon be at an age when he’ll be tempted by the kind of teenage bikers who recently clashed with police in Larnaca; Mary is presumably already lobbying to be allowed out till the wee hours. “When you go out and find young kids of 12 or 13, sitting on a pavement in a public place till 6 in the morning, what’s the responsibility of the parent who tolerates this?” Michael asks rhetorically. “When there’s no control in the family, how can someone grow up properly in society?” Yet, as he knows from his own experience, family life is hard to sustain in a modern society of high-pressure jobs and constant phone calls.

Maybe that’s the trouble with being Police Spokesperson – that, for all of Michael’s eloquence, even a reformed Force will never quite regain the status it used to have, simply because Cyprus is no longer the place it used to be. “Let me tell you something, and you can write it any way you want,” he asserts: “I like to call the Police Force the spine of the nation… And once you start removing spinal discs one by one, you weaken and disorganise it – and the price will be heavy, not just for the Force but Society as a whole”. Strong words indeed, yet (he adds) the media often seem determined to break that spine, manipulating public opinion against the Police. The Kitas case was one example, with (some) sectors of the media constantly harping on about corruption, painting a picture of “an organisation of 6,500 corrupt individuals” instead of concentrating on the small minority of crooked cops. Football hooliganism is another example, a case where the Force is damned either for doing too much or too little. There’s a certain edge – almost a resentment – behind the ready smile of Michael Katsounotos.

Is it worth it, sacrificing so much just to be everyone’s whipping boy? “To be honest, I don’t wish to stay [in this job] for a long time,” he admits quite candidly – though of course it depends on the Chief, and he’ll stay as long as he’s ordered. The only exception, he adds, might be if he ever had to make an official statement he found unacceptable, or contrary to “the principles that must characterise the Police Force”. If that ever happened, “I’m ready to pack up and go home”.

What would he do then? Become a lawyer, he replies. Is that all? Quite unexpectedly, it transpires that Michael’s late father was actually a politician, a party official for EDEK and an MP for 10 years, 1981-1991 (making it slightly surprising that the family faced financial problems, but that’s another story). Michael was never supposed to be a cop, even a high-flying cop; “My father,” he admits, “would’ve liked to see me go into politics – but things didn’t turn out the way he wanted”. But it’s not too late, surely? He gives another of those disarming laughs: “For politics? No, no … At the moment, there’s no such plan.”

Maybe not at the moment; but you have to wonder. Michael likes to read, when he finds the time – and he’s currently reading Body Language, a book on communication skills. What has he learned from this book? “You learn that when you want to communicate a message to the outside, you have to adjust both your facial expression and the tone of your voice in order to be credible,” he replies. “Your expression must fit what you’re saying. Otherwise it doesn’t convince.” Sounds like a tip that’ll come in handy – and not just for Police Spokesperson.