An anniversary devoid of answers
What could the government have announced on the first anniversary of the deadly Tempe rail crash on February 28? That the country’s rail network is now safe and the ways in which this was achieved. If this was too demanding a task, it could have offered assurances that the railway is, at the very least, safer than it was. Alternatively, if such announcements demanded work that has not been done, it could have spoken about what has been done in terms of infrastructure, technology and accident prevention, even if progress in these areas has not been spectacular.
We could have finally learned, from official lips, what was lacking in our railways and what was done in the space of a year to make up for it. Was the signal lighting system fixed? Was the remote operating system installed? Anything. The government didn’t need to go into subjects related to the ongoing judicial investigations into the crash; it could have stuck to the basics, to technical matters, just enough to tell us that it did what needed to be done to address the practical matters that led to the scandalous death of 57 people. Yet, nothing even close to any of this was said. All we got from the government was mournful platitudes and assurances that the state apparatus is, apparently, changing. How is it changing? And if it were, wouldn’t we know something about it? If it is true, then we eagerly await details on how this is being done – we will be studying them closely.
A stereotype confirmed
It’s hard to stomach how often the pessimistic stereotype about Greece is confirmed by the reality in this country. “Nothing changes in Greece” may be a cliche, but it is well-founded in the common experience of suffocating and persistent backwardness. Apart from its unbearable reality, Tempe is a grave that symbolizes a state mired in inefficiencies, a necrotic state-citizen relationship and the end of trust in the institutions. Citizens are not demanding that the dead be brought back to life; they just want a few assurances that the living are being protected. We know there’s little that can be done against an asteroid hit or a 10-magnitude earthquake, but we cannot accept that we’re in mortal danger on a train whose safety can and must be taken for granted. Society has been waiting a year for the state to give some sign that it knows which way is up, but the state has proved unable to do so. The political forces, in the meantime, philosophically ponder such questions as: Why is voter turnout so low? What’s to blame for rising populism and radicalization?
Crime and punishment
If politicians could be taken to court as easily as ordinary citizens, they’d be doing little else all day. This, however, does not mean that politicians should enjoy the kind of legal safeguards that make prosecution almost impossible. There’s a big difference between protecting elected representatives of the people from the rage of the masses and turning them into untouchables who have free rein to mess up. The impunity enjoyed by politicians, and especially those in ministerial posts, is the cornerstone of public skepticism in the political system. It is the reason why an alarming number of citizens think politics is a fraud. The case of Tempe confirms these beliefs. Because above the quagmire of bureaucracy, human error, corruption and operational oversights, there is always a politician whose job is to oversee and regulate, and if accidents like the one at Tempe are causally connected to failures in doing this job, the responsibility needs to be more than just “political.” It doesn’t matter if this demand echoes those seeking retribution or those seeking justice: Sometimes, punishment fits every bill.
