Marking big anniversaries for many purposes
In Greece, ‘intersecting’ historical milestones has ignited public confrontations for years. Four historians answer questions about them
One could paraphrase Winston Churchill to say that Greeks “produce more history than they can consume,” and stick to that cliche.
In reality, however, the Greece of the 21st century was shaped over a long period of time by consecutive, big historical events. Some of these events have created a sense of unity, such as the Greek Revolution of 1821. Others, such as the Battle for Athens (a series of clashes fought from December 1944 to January 1945, commonly known as the Dekemvriana), the Civil War (1946-49) that ensued or the Athens Polytechnic Uprising (November 1973), continue – even today – to be deeply divisive. However, these are events that, like history as a whole, produce ideology and form national (and other) identities.
Within an unprecedentedly short period of time, the country celebrated four significant anniversaries of such events: the 200th anniversary of the start of the 1821 Greek Revolution against Ottoman rule, the 100th of the Asia Minor Catastrophe (also known as the Greco-Turkish War of 1919-1922), the 50th of the restoration of democracy in 1973-4 (known in Greece as the Metapolitefsi), and, a few months prior, the 50th anniversary of the Polytechnic Uprising. The first conclusion of this condensed recall of the past is that Greeks showed a special interest in their history, perhaps attempting to reinvent themselves.
“These are exercises in collective self-awareness that are decisively influenced by the anxieties and goals of the present, which is why they are sometimes self-satisfied, sometimes self-pitying and at other times reflective,” Harris Athanasiades, professor of public history at Panteion University and co-author of the book “National Anniversaries: Forms of Managing Memory and History,” told Kathimerini.
The collective engagement with history seems to be more intense when the events, and thus the memory, are still “alive,” together with their main protagonists. “Interest is enhanced if it is an anniversary that carries contradictory interpretations and understandings,” points out Christina Koulouri, professor of modern and contemporary history and rector at Panteion University, adding that this “is clear in the case of the Polytechnic and the Metapolitefsi. However, it also applies in the case of the Asia Minor Catastrophe, because it is a deep national trauma, a stain on national history.”
Divisive questions
The second, clearly more interesting, conclusion is that, in 2024, Greeks are still fascinated by the war over historical memory. They like the contradictory – or even better – the divisive questions and views, which have resurfaced due to the consecutive anniversaries and the related cultural production. Who is to blame for the Battle of Athens? Was it the Polytechnic Uprising or the Turkish invasion of Cyprus that brought down the Greek military dictatorship? Konstantinos Karamanlis or Andreas Papandreou? What was, after all, the Metapolitefsi? An achievement or a slide into chaos?
“You are right when you note that the recent anniversaries still cause many debates and conflicts,” says Vangelis Karamanolakis, associate professor of theory and history of historiography at the National and Kapodistrian University of Athens (NKUA), adding that this is not unreasonable because essentially no anniversary is about the past, but about the present and the future. “We always read about yesterday with the eyes of today, we always look for genealogies, continuities and intersections. Why do some people today understand the Metapolitefsi as a period of decline? Because of the intervening economic crisis and experience of the bailouts,” he says. “A discussion about whether the Metapolitefsi led to populism is not about 1974, but how, in the year 2024, we deal with workers’ demands.”
Koulouri shares Karamanolakis’ view, explaining that the uses of anniversaries depend on the experience of the present. “For example, the anniversary of the Polytechnic took on different meanings in the 1980s, others in the 1990s or after 2008, offering a field of expression to social protest,” she says.
“The Polytechnic was recognized from the beginning as the preeminent place of memory of resistance and democracy,” Athanasiades adds, arguing that in those autumn days of 1973, the then-ongoing experiment with controlled democratization and people’s familiarity with an incomplete democracy – as the period after the Civil War was described by the late political scientist and electoral analyst Ilias Nikolakopoulos – was canceled. “Even without the Cyprus invasion, the dictatorship had no future,” he says. “It is these uplifting events that give societies dignity and self-respect again. Without these, societies languish, die spiritually. I think we will agree that the far-right has many reasons to question and discredit the Polytechnic Uprising.”
Vlasis Vlasidis, associate professor at the Department of Balkan, Slavic and Oriental Studies at the University of Macedonia, who has also dealt with issues of identity and the use of history in modern communication, offers a different perspective, arguing that there are self-appointed “custodians” of specific anniversaries who claim exclusive rights in the respective celebrations.
‘As the well-known historian Marc Ferro wrote, “the control of the past has always contributed to the control of the present,”’ historian Christina Koulouri says
“The events to mark the 50th anniversary of the Polytechnic Uprising and the restoration of democracy or the 100th anniversary of the Asia Minor Catastrophe caused a lot of discussion, as there are still today organizations and individuals who consider themselves the custodians of that memory, and a number of individuals who are ready to accept or to reject the meaning and symbolism of each anniversary.”
Weaponized memory
However, apart from the “innocent” disagreements among friends, in social media or between the associations that claim the legacy of such events, the memory wars often acquire a distinct political dimension and history is used to shape collective consciousness. Thus, every anniversary, the milestones especially function as an opportunity for political and social forces to express themselves.
“Everyone wants to link the anniversary celebration with their own politics. To show that their own choices in the past were the right ones – so the public should follow their own choices in the present and in the future,” Vlasidis says, adding that since parties and social groups operate on the basis of conflict and not of unity, “they transfer their disagreements to the issues of the past.”
“Every government, but also collective bodies, parties, youth groups etc invest in the collective memory, often looking to them for their legitimation,” Karamanolakis adds.
Koulouri also agrees that the management of historical memory includes a political and ideological aspect. This happens “for a variety of purposes and depending on the users,” she says. “Generally, the goal can be to legitimize, to manipulate, to prove something.” The above is seen much more clearly when we are faced with the eminently divisive events, such as the Dekemvriana (Battle of Athens), the start of which will have its 80th anniversary this December. So that’s another one coming up.
Recalling such events may not help national unity – which is the goal of an anniversary – however, as Athanasiades points out, choosing to forget it is not the most productive option for society. “First of all, because it accustoms people to the notion that the embellished [version of history] is national history, instead of the real one,” he says, adding that society must deal with divisive events of the past. “Not to incite hatred, but to understand it, explain it and not repeat it.”
Vlasidis believes that the public is not mobilized through the logic of consensus, but of division, noting however that this does not only happen only in Greece and does not concern only specific bodies. He notes the example of the Spanish Civil War, and the fact that the northern provinces of the country still see Catalonia as a disruptive element. “The same is true of national independence celebrations in the Baltic countries, which are also linked with the collusion with the Nazis in World War II against the Soviet occupiers in Ukraine and elsewhere,” he says.
Karamanolakis, of course, connects the concept of a divisive event with that of trauma and it poses the crucial question: Who recalls the historical memory each time and what do they want to do with it? “Today we cannot talk about the Civil War in terms of a living trauma, the suffering it caused has long passed. What matters is recalling the memory of the Civil War as part of a political identity, as an element of separation in the present,” he says.
When memory hurts
On the other hand, it is extremely difficult to imagine a neutral management of a historical memory. Or rather, there are events framed by such contrasting narratives and corresponding testimonies in Greek historiography that any attempt to ideologically sterilize their contemporary reflections is almost futile.
“A neutral management of historical memory can only be achieved when someone is outside the public sphere,” argues Vlasidis, pointing to the example of prominent British historian Mark Mazower and his book “Salonica, City of Ghosts.”
“How can there be neutral management, when memory is full of emotions, hurts, makes us happy, proud, ashamed?” Karamanolakis adds.
Koulouri agrees that there is no such thing as neutral management of memory. “As the well-known historian Mark Ferro wrote, ‘the control of the past has always contributed to the control of the present,’” she says.
Along with the debate on neutrality comes the eternal question: Who writes history, after all? The answer, especially in the era of absolute social networking and the apotheosis of the moment, is almost spontaneous: History is written both from above and from below. On the one hand, that is, from the professional historians with the appropriate documentation, on the other hand, from the bearers of memory themselves – i.e. the protagonists of the events. The truths of each side are often in conflict with each other.
