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A huge Christmas tree, decorated with the finest in kitschy bells, golden angels and red balls, soared above the parliament steps, where the soldiers, wearing kilts and heavy clogs with pompons, stood guard. Below it, in the square, sat Ayios Vasilis, the local Santa Claus, next to a brown reindeer seesaw. Little children waited to be photographed on the reindeer next to Ayios Vasilis, before moving on to the traditional Christmas stalls in the square.
This is where old Greece raised its head in pride. At every stall, grandmothers bought their grandchildren candy hard to find in Western stores. With sticky, sugar-coated hands and sparkling eyes, the little ones demanded to be whirled around on the antique pink-and-turquoise carousel, with its wooden horses from grandma's childhood moving to the sound of lively music. But - anguish to our ears - the tune was an echo of the American street: "All I want for Christmas is you!" the loudspeakers pleaded, and the young people sang along.
Ten minutes away by foot is the beautiful Psiri neighborhood. This was a hotbed of drugs, prostitution and crime, but has undergone an enviable face-lift over the last few years. Here, Western signs of Christmas vanished, and tradition peeped out. At the entrance to the Psiri Taverna, a venerable, simple restaurant, an elegant sailing ship of wood and white fabric was beautifully arranged on a high, cloth-covered table. The ship was decorated with thin strings of colored lights. At the foot of the ship, an old Greek Christmas symbol, the proprietor put a bowl of candy. (The Orthodox Christmas falls at the beginning of January; the choice to celebrate the Western date of December 25 is a civilian, not a religious, decision.)
Thus, between the candy stalls and the ship, the heart of tradition beats on. From mid-December, the Greeks are accustomed to plying each other with sweets and greeting cards. True, Athens is Greece like Paris is France, but even outside the capital there has been considerable changes, and America is only part of the picture. Since 1981, when Europe accepted Greece as the 10th member of its community (after a ruinous delay because of the regime of the colonels, from 1967 to 1974), Greece has undergone a revolution whose dramatic consequences have been particularly amazing in the last five years.
It is doubtful whether Shirley Valentine, the delightful (fictional) Englishwoman who fell in love with Greece because of her unctuous lover, would recognize her dream country today. The currency is the euro, far more Greeks speak much better English (the old elite also speaks French), many more young people study at good universities abroad, and English dominates the press and, of course, the Internet. European names and terms are written in Latin letters. In the clubs they no longer break plates, but instead throw flowers and paper napkins, and jazz and pop concerts draw larger audiences than the heavy rembetiko. Even someone who twirls komboloi, Greek beads, is likely to be - as we already discovered - an educated, feminist, European foreign minister.
The extent of the change is obvious in the corridors of government. Prime Minister Konstandinos Karamanlis, a highly articulate lawyer, addressed the United Nations General Assembly in New York in fluent English. His body language, and his choice of words and illustrations, showed he felt no less European than the French or Germans sitting next to him. Foreign minister Dora Bakoyianni left a similar impression. The two leaders admittedly come from elite political families and spent many years outside Greece, but the Western atmosphere pervades their professional circles as well.
Two of Bakoyianni's close aides are graduates of first-rate American universities (one is her son, Kostas Bakoyianni, the other the daughter of emigres who returned to Greece as an adult). Secretary general of information Panos Leivadas studied and worked in the United States, and was a successful businessman until his appointment to his current position.
Leivadas is one of the more interesting representatives of the new Greece. In a speech a month and a half ago at an economic conference in New York, he described his country's renewed importance unemotionally, but with undisguised pride. "Brisk extroverted growth and geography make Greece a contemporary gateway to southeastern Europe," he said, adding: "With a brisk growth rate of 4.3 percent during the first quarter of 2006, the general budget deficit [is] expected [to be] a low 2.6 percent in 2006 from a high 6.9 percent in 2004, unemployment [has fallen] to 9.7 percent from 11 percent in 2004, and inflation [is] down to 2.8 percent."
More good news that Leivadas did not mention is the double-digit growth in tourism - 10 percent since 2004. Fifteen million tourists now visit Greece annually. Despite rising prices, the Greek tourist industry has become more professional and has adapted itself to a range of demands, offering far more than just enchanting views and good food. There has been an infrastructure revolution - roads, tunnels, a sophisticated and efficient metro that rescued Athens from its traffic jams and appalling pollution in less than two years, and of course the excellent Olympic sport facilities. Greece intends to continue the momentum with a renovation of all its sea ports, at a cost of 3 billion euros.
Not everyone is equally enthusiastic. Greeks complain about the high cost of living and the growing economic gap, and are afraid the government is leaning toward privatization. Tilemachos Hitiris is a poet and parliament member for the PASOK (Socialist) party. He filled Leivadas' position in 1987, and is currently deputy minister for press and mass media. He says his party lost power because it concentrated on political matters and neglected domestic issues. Now, it may sweep back into power in the next elections, on a wave of social protest.
Hitiris gives voice to the grievances expressed in the press, focusing on the education crisis (the relatively low level of the universities and public schools, and the government's intention to establish a private university), the cost of living and immigration. But even he, like the ministers of Karamanlis' government, is careful to present a rosy picture of successful assimilation. Educators and welfare agencies report on the clear gap between immigrants who work and whose children have excelled in school, and the poor whose children have dropped out and can barely read or write. Hitiris concedes that the European Union as a whole will be forced to create mechanisms to limit immigration.
Not far from Hitiris' comfortable office, there was a mass demonstration on Christmas eve protesting the privatization of the national telecommunications company. "The public understands that privatization is too easy a solution, and that improving efficiency would be enough," he says with satisfaction. "It is obvious that a private company is not going to take the trouble to provide a telephone line for some farmer on a remote island. It will operate for only the strong."
The softening of the leftist line and the new blood in its ranks notwithstanding, the differences between the two parties are still clear: "We are against sweeping privatization and in favor of a mixed economy - free, modern, but still the responsibility of the state - and in particular we believe in a welfare state. That is the European legacy, and we must not deteriorate to an Americanized system where all the resources are transferred to the rich."
Nevertheless, even Hitiris concedes that Greece's luck has changed for the better. People have long since forgotten the cynics who predicted a humiliating fiasco in the organization of the Olympics, warned of a terrorist attack, and did not believe the organizers would stay on schedule. Even the Greeks themselves, grumblers by nature, admit the series of successes in national projects, sports and even the Eurovision song contest, has them standing proud.
It should not be forgotten how different it was once. Modern Greece achieved independence only in the early 19th century, and suffered national and social traumas ever since. Its chronicle of blood and pain includes its collapse in the war in Anatolia (1922-23), which resulted in the mass exile of 1.5 million Greeks from Asia Minor to Greece itself; the Nazi occupation in 1941; the civil war between royalists and communists right after liberation; and, finally, the military junta that ruled Greece from 1967 to 1974, which fell because of economic collapse and the failed coup in Cyprus (which led to the Turkish invasion of the northern part of the island).
The United States and the Cold War played a central role in this tragic history, which remains etched into the wounded consciousness of Greeks to this day. The Truman administration's interference in Greek politics was primarily aimed at strengthening anti-communist elements, to the extent of issuing "politically reliable" cards to Greek citizens (and the blatant exclusion of communists).
"The hatred of America is so great," says political science professor Amikam Nachmani of Bar-Ilan University, "that even Clinton, as president, was the target of curses at the annual demonstration outside the Polytechnic on the memorial day for students killed in 1973." Greek government officials were quoted this week as saying that relations with the United States were improving; off the record, they said the U.S. aroused opposition because of its interference around the world.
The historical wound is still open, and the current success has not healed it. In literature, theater and even popular songs, there are cautious and uneasy references to it, like a family that despite its love of life, suffers from loss, shame and anxiety. It provides an important key to understanding the complexity of modern Greek society and politics. Greece is made up of an impassioned mixture of unlimited freedom and democracy (Athens has mass anti-government demonstrations once a week, on average) and a powerful national and religious identity.
"A Greek is born 100 percent Orthodox," says Nachmani, "but now, when they talk about one million foreigners, most of them Albanian Muslims, there has been a reassessment. Add to that a painful historical memory and a tendency toward repression, but also a glorious past and a colorful legacy that form the basis of Western culture, and a reason for pretensions to eternal superiority."
The perception of absolute justice, and the long years under foreign oppression, have sharpened the Greeks' deep identification with all conquered peoples, whoever they may be. That inevitably led to a cooling in relations between Israel and Greece. In recent years, the equation has been questioned, mostly because of Islamic terror; and in the street (especially on the Greek islands closer to Turkey), one hears murmurs of support for Israel among those who see it as the West's representative against Hamas and Hezbollah. There are, however, other factors that explain the rapprochement with Israel since the early 1990s: the new balance between Greece and the United States, the dismantling of communism, the reduction in dependence on Arab oil and the development of close ties between Israel and Turkey. The improvement in Israeli-Greek relations is clear in the economic and military spheres, but even more so in the cultural sphere, thanks in part to talented diplomats on both sides.
"What is still missing," says Nachmani, "is academic cooperation." The coalition of anti-Israel sentiment is found precisely in academia and cultural life, but several passionate individuals have successfully cultivated relations even there. A writer exchange program is in its fourth year, and last winter the Greek state channel aired a program on Greek-music lovers in Israel. The program's veteran editor/presenter was flabbergasted; when Israeli singer Yehuda Poliker sang the love song to Salonika (Thessaloniki) he had learned from his father, the presenter was moved to tears. On Wednesday, January 17, Greek criminologist Dr. Maria Alvanou will give a lecture at the University of Haifa's Program for Modern Greek Studies on Issues in Contemporary Terror in the European Union.
"We are so similar," said a senior Greek government official this week, "both in our pretensions and in our shortcomings, and in particular in the fascinating mix of East and West." The difference, he admits, lies in Israel's complicated situation today. And one other thing: "We always have somewhere to escape to when we're feeling bad. You don't have a single island. Is that true, or am I mistaken?" |
