This being so, the Nomarch of Attica can only be commended for making a proposal at this time which, admittedly, came as something of a shock to people not given much to thinking about spiritual matters. The nomarch has not only taken resurrection literally, he proposes to act on it, if not in a universal, at least in a metropolitan, way. In brief, he is suggesting to his council that the numerous Athenian dead be disinterred and all existing cemeteries moved out of the city.
Although the logistics of this plan appear formidable, one can hardly fault it for its humane aspects and its sense of fair play. The living, after all, have been getting out of Athens on weekends and holidays for years and enjoying themselves in the country. It’s only justice that the dead now get their chance for a mass exodus. Everyone knows that living conditions in Athens are bad, but few realize that existing conditions for the dead are in some ways worse. The density of population in areas like the First Cemetery is greater than in Kolonaki, and a narrow plot of one’s own is equal in cost to a three-room flat plus telephone on Patriarchou Ioachim. It is true that the departed have more greenery around them, but ozone is not one of their needs, and one suspects that these cypress-lined walks and sculptured hedges exist more to console mourners than to please the dead. Demographically speaking, the situation is more serious. The influx of population into Athens is diminishing while the rate of influx into its cemeteries continues to increase. In some cemeteries, high rise mortuaries are beginning to resemble the standard Athenian apartment block.
In Greece, even spiritual matters quickly take on a political coloring. In this case, the nomarchy, or prefecture, is casting a suspicious eye on the municipal government, believing that it is making a pretty penny profiteering in the cemetery business and does not want to see this lucrative trade lost. On the other hand, decentralization is a favored plank in the present government’s platform, and there is no reason to keep the dead out of it.
Transplanting several cities of the dead, some more populous than Patras, is a massive undertaking, requiring federal intervention. Indeed, it would need a degree of planning and forethought that no government has shown itself capable of within recent memory. If one recalls how long it took to move the Supreme Court, let alone a mere six Caryatids from the Erechtheum, at least another generation of Athenians will have expired before this undertaking gets off the ground. Yet, if the Ministries of Social Welfare, Public Works and Transportation – they seem to be the most appropriate agencies – joined forces with determination, the task could be considered a possibility, particularly if it were financed by funds set aside for moving the airport, a project which itself is ready for burial. The land appropriated for this purpose at Spata could easily accommodate all the Athenian dead, and the ground there is freshly bulldozed and ‘ready to receive’.
A major question immediately arises: should the mausoleums accompany the dead to the country? Moving the remains of Heinrich Schliemann is one thing, but moving all of Troy out to Spata with him would need the genius of a Cecil B. De Mille. The nomarch’s proposal implies that this will not be necessary insofar as he suggests that the vacated cemeteries be turned into children’s playgrounds. No doubt he means that all the obelisks, pyramids, stelae, mini-doric temples and reclining statuary should stay to increase the amusements of childish sport.
A city without cemeteries would raise the morale of adult Athenians, too, who do not share with Protestants a passion for graveyards. They only go there when they have to: bury, be buried or eat kolyva at memorial services. It should also raise real estate values. Athenians do not even care to live near cemeteries, so when those who have passed away have been passed even farther away, a quarter like the First Cemetery area should become as fashionable for the living as it is today for the dead.
When, and if, cemetery-removal legislation gets to Parliament, a rider should be attached (the present government is very fond of riders), preferably late at night on Halloween, making an exception for the Unknown Soldier lying in front of Parliament. It is a popular attraction, and nothing should be done to discourage tourism. Five million annual visitors, few of whom stay long enough to die here, can only be called a pure profit. Indeed, advertising Athens as a city for the living only, like ancient Egyptian Thebes, is something that the public relations people at the National Tourist Organization should get to work on.
This proposal on the part of the nomarch needs serious consideration and the Easter holiday is a fitting time to do this. And, with all the living out of town, even the dead will have a period of quiet to think it over.
