The oddities of Greek political reality understandably become particularly manifest at this time. In many countries during the campaign period, the thorny issue arises of ‘equal time’ on television, so that each party gets a just airing in presenting its policies before the public. But not in Greece.
In their Platonic pursuit of ideal justice, the directors of the television networks have decided to ban all political statements and manifestations from the box. The decision came — it is said — after certain opposition political rallies in certain towns around Greece appeared on the screen to be better attended and more enthusiastic than government ones. It is true that films showing public servants ranting from festooned balconies at crowds equally adept at histrionic display are not very informative. On the other hand, this Draconian measure effectively prevents Greek television from playing the adult and, one might say, essential role that it could in these upcoming elections. Banner-waving and crowd reaction are not the only means of presenting political realities. The presentation of debates, of political platforms, of roundtable discussions is the obligation of publicly owned channels during the campaign period. It is also an opportune time to inform the public on the importance of the democratic process, and of its vicissitudes and developments in the past. The directors of the most powerful medium for the dissemination of information, however, have decided that it should play deaf – and especially – dumb, which some feel is itself a political act. The result of this decision is that the expression of political sentiment must find other fields to play in. So far, poster art has not yet entered the campaign, perhaps in recollection of the warnings of the mayor of Athens who, after the last election, threatened to sue political parties which did not clean up the litter they had pasted up. In mid-July, however, placards far larger than posters were springing up in front of many open areas in Athens. These, set up by the Ministry of Environment, all began with the admonishment, “This Work Belongs to You – Love It!” Each placard then states exactly how many millions of drachmas are to be expended on the beautification of each area, and is signed in bold letters, “Minister George Plytas”. Although the noble intent of these public works could only be questioned by the mean-spirited, some were puzzled at why 34 millions should be slated for Alsos Pangrati, for example, which is already in perfect condition. Or why even a paltry 1.5 million be spent for the park in Ekali which never has more than two children in it, since all the villas in the area have playgrounds of their own. Or why there should be no placard in a certain desolate area in Peristeri which looks particularly unloved. Like certain allergies, politics suppressed in one area has the tendency to erupt in another.
One medium where politics is having a fine airing is in the theater, and the political revues are blooming all over town. At the Kalouta Theater they are even running a Gallup poll of their own. There, PASOK is running ahead every night with 47% of the vote but, then, isn’t theater the art of make-believe?
Dimitris Hatzis
Dimitris Hatzis, who died at the age of 67 on July 20, was one of the leading prose writers who emerged just after World War II. Born in Yannina in 1914, he was the second of six children. His father, also a writer, journalist, and an editor of a local newspaper, died when Hatzis was a boy. He joined the Communist Party before the war, fought in the resistance with EAM and was a reporter for the newspaper of the Democratic Army. His first book / Fotia, which came out in 1946, was the first important novel devoted to the subject of the Resistance, published just after the events which it described had taken place. The court martial and execution of his brother Angelos in Yannina in 1949 (one of the judges was Pattakos, later of Junta fame) scarred Dimitris for life.
In the same year, he fled from his homeland to East Berlin where he took a doctoral degree in Byzantine philology after a long hiatus in his upper education which had begun with the study of law at the University of Athens in the 1930s. He later moved to Hungary where he taught Byzantine civilization at the University of Budapest. Here he became an editor of the Europa Publishing House, introduced contemporary Greek authors to the Hungarian public and compiled an anthology of modern Greek poetry. Devoted to his country, Hatzis suffered exile for 25 years, during which time he wrote most of his small but influential literary output
and kept in close communion with his fellow Greeks-in-exile, such as the eminent sculptor, Memos Makris. He returned to Greece in November, 1974, after the fall of the Junta. During his quarter century-long fugitive years, Hatzis never forgot or lost his affection for, or his balanced view of, his homeland and its problems. In his later years he earned the respect of people of all political persuasions — of which he remained often critical – for those personal qualities which continue to live in his works: a sharpness of mind combined with a warm and affectionate heart.
Returns from Ithaca
Last month a referendum was held on the island of Ithaca as a result of the efforts made by the local government headed by Mayor Arsenis and the endorsement of the Ministry of Environment. As a legal precedent, the referendum itself was unique since the constitution makes no provision for this kind of local franchise. The conservation issue put up to vote, however, was rightly considered of particular importance and one in which the local inhabitants should have their say, since the government’s policy towards areas designated for protection has caused confusion and controversy.
On July 19 the inhabitants of Ithaca were given the choice between a blue ballot which favored the measure — that is, the preservation of the island’s architectural heritage along with the establishment of an organized, overall plan for measured development, and a black b allot which meant a vote against the proposal; that is, in favor of free unimpeded development, such as the constructing of high-rise buildings and the razing of traditional ones.
Prior to the referendum,. Mayor Arsenis in no way disguised the side on which he stood. In trying to inform the people of the importance of preserving the island’s architectural heritage, he brought to Ithaca the best-informed specialists: architects, engineers, town planners; members of environmental societies and representatives of all political parties.
The outcome of the referendum was extremely clear — of the 934 ballots cast, 264, or 29%, favored protection of the traditional along with controlled development, while 667 ballots, or 71%, favored free development. The presentation and the execution of the referendum were above reproach. The democratic process under which it took place was everywhere warmly praised. The results, however, produced a reaction that varied from disappointment to despair.
What became evident with the outcome of the referendum was that either the concerted efforts in the last few years by individuals, conservation groups, publications, etc. had fallen on deaf ears, or that these efforts had not been presented in an effective way. It was clear in the results that the importance of the conservation of living habitats has convinced far too small an audience: intellectuals; urban dwellers who live in over-crowded, noisy and polluted areas; and those who have taken up the cause of preservation more because it is the fashion in upper-class circles to do so than out of inner conviction. It has not succeeded in becoming a part of the national consciousness, and it has not convinced most of those who are in a position to protect the environment in which they themselves live. The general post-Ithaca reappraisal was that basic, clear and positive information has not reached those on whom the success of the preservation of traditional habitats ultimately depends – namely, those who now live in them. They see the concept of preservation as a kind of confinement or punishment, a bureaucratic directive from above which deprives them of using their own property as they see fit, a complex of prohibitions, a command without choices, a means by which living areas are converted into picturesque but dead museums. The benefits are either obscured or unseen: that financial help exists, that practical alternatives are available, that planned development is desirable, that traditional habitats are life-enhancing in the way that cement cities — which, seen at a distance seem desirable and profitable — are not, that the kind of established steady tourism which is most profitable to local inhabitants in the long run is repelled rather than attracted by indiscriminate construction.
It was immediately observed that a small-scale referendum such as took place in Ithaca does not bind the government to raising restrictions on indiscriminate development there or elsewhere. It has also been claimed that preservation groups which have been organized throughout the country to protect areas from industrial development without any official endorsement invalidate Ithaca’s right to protest the restrictions placed on areas felt to be worthy of preservation. Nonetheless, without the sincere approval of people living in such areas, the cause of preservation cannot survive. The campaign to save traditional communities is in need of a far more positive and practical approach, and if the recent referendum in Ithaca is any indication of similar sentiment in similar areas — and there is no reason to think that it is not — that goal seems to be still a long distance off. The example of Ithaca may be salutary and bring the preservation issue from the level of “theoretical promises” down to practical terms, defining living areas and not dead monuments. In this way the preservationists may learn a great deal in their efforts to win the confidence of the people of Ithaca. Hence, the words of Cavafy may take on a new level of meaning:
And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you. So wise have you become, of such experience, That already you will have learned what these Ithacas mean.
