It is received wisdom that the Greek political system and the world it dominates are products of the 19th century. (Extremists hold both are antediluvian.) Now, with the unheard-of alliance between right and left, Greek politics are perceived, here and abroad, to be off the sidings, back on the main track, and by putting grassroots glasnost to work, is moving into the fast lane.
“There is no place like Greece,” blare the tourist posters, sometimes with unintentional irony. Yet truer words were never said. Among unique characteristics too endless to list, a caretaker government is stapled together during the election campaigns. This happens when the chief of state gets into a powwow with party leaders and they choose an interim prime minister, usually a member of the judiciary who is as uncolorful as possible and has the trust of all parties. In turn, a cabinet is formed of equally respected persons who, ideally, are unknown to most voters. It’s always harder to manipulate people you don’t know. In this way, no one can get overly excited by the machinations of government at election time in a country where vote-rigging, double-registration and other irregular arts are highly developed.
It is a very sensible system and one that can be heartily recommended to the majority of nations in this far from perfect world. In its authoritarian way, PASOK in 1985 avoided the caretaker period and was roundly, and justly, criticized. This time around, only Aliki Yiotopoulou-Marangopoulou of the International Union of Women objected, and then only to the cabinet’s composition: not a single woman on the 21-man cabinet. Bravo to Ms Marangopoulou, and may she herself be appointed to the next caretaker government which, alas, may hatch in January.
Yet, in all other ways, Mr Yiannis Grivas, President of the Supreme Court, is perfectly suited for the job: Grivas is shortish, stocky and avuncular – a man who might well say: “Now let’s get on with this in a straightforward, above-board way with a minimum of fuss; then I can get back to the law books.”
President Sartzetakis is to be commended for the apparently amicable way all this was accomplished.
The cowardly and abhorrent murder of a member of parliament by terrorists shortly before the last government’s resignation, and acts of violence during the current campaign, are looking more and more like the desperate doings of inverted fanatics increasingly isolated from the mainstream. With 19 assassinations under its belt since 1975, 17 Ν remains as mysterious as its manifestos are grotesquely out-of-date? Whether it is a big, well-trained network or a sorry handful of radical socialists who have spent too much time prowling in dusty Ippokratous Street bookshops, depends (as yet) on .one’s predilections: harboring a secret love of conspiracy theories or making parallels with earlier Italian and Western terrorist gangs which were small. Yet fanaticism has flourished these last years, arousing hatred and encouraging political polarization, which is what fanaticism requires. It’s a great pity (to say the least) that the police have never turned up even a suspect. It’s hoped, too, that when Premier Grivas attended a ceremony on 20 October, the Feast of Artemios, patron saint of police, and lit a candle in the holy man’s honor, he earnestly prayed that a clue would turn up.
Yet out of recent fanaticism and atrophy, compromise and flexibility seem to have emerged. Over the heads of these ‘cults of personality’ so fertile in societies politically immature, winds of change are blowing. Hearty egos with little ideas who stalked off to the beat of different drummers have returned almost sheepishly. Mr Arsenis and Mr Simitis, who strayed from the pleasure gardens of PASOK have come back (for a bit, at least). Former premier Rallis has also rejoined his own fold. Mr Stefanopoulos, whose Democratic Renewal did everything but renew, has cancelled his subscription.
Most flamboyant is Mikis Theodorakis, the celebrated composer of “Spread Out Your Mattress For Two,” who has played cuckoo in just about everybody’s political nest in the last few years. The left wing Sousa who wrote such rousing stuff during the junta, became a communist MP for a bit and then left in a huff. Then this latter-day Alcibiades of the welfare state dropped some oratorio-or-other to hook up with Papandreou when the spirit of Davos was brooding over the land. After it blew over (and he finished his oratorio) he was found one day in a church in Hania, next to Mitsotakis, praising God in unison. Now he’s on the list of Deputies of State for the conservatives. The two tallest Greeks who aren’t stringers on a basketball team look pretty unbeatable.
But don’t underestimate the wiles of Mr Papandreou, who took great umbrage at this infringement on his own turf: the personalized style of politics. Clambering upon his striped charger (a popular PASOK poster of a blue zebra carrying off the youth of Greece to socialist paradise) he went off to Paris right in the middle of the election campaign with spokesman Kostas Laliotis saying “a great and pleasant political surprise” would emerge.
It was never made clear what this was, and even the visit, claimed here as official, was denied in Paris, and called private. In all this Levantine flap, Mr Mitterrand maintained his admirable cool and showed no intention of getting involved in Greek politics, especially during an election campaign. Mr Papandreou is said to have returned in an unsociable mood. With his devoted Melina right there in the VIP lounge, he left by another exit and came straight home.
