Seeds in a concrete desert
The surprise raising of the Greek flag during the Paris Olympics’ closing ceremony, at a moment in which darkness dominated the otherworldly setting in the Stade de France, was intended to symbolize the birth – and rebirth – of an idea. It declared that in the wasteland we might find a flame, the colors of the blinding white sky and dark blue sea of the land that gave the world the Olympic Games and so many other ideas now common to humanity. We stand on the shoulders of giants, I thought. Which other nation of similar size enjoys such international recognition for the accomplishments of its ancestors? We have a head start.
Do we use it wisely, with foresight and consensus, or do we squander it? This question has tortured the Greeks from the years of Ottoman occupation, through the Revolution, through the unfinished, laborious task of building a state, through the management of the matrix of our relations with the world. And it should always concern us, as the gifts of the past are a great weight and a great responsibility, but also an inexhaustible school. The ancient Greeks did not survive, did not excel, did not create so much just because of Fortune (though she did play a role), but because they saw clearly the dangers and opportunities around them. Because they could unite (to a sufficient degree) at critical moments, because they found a way to coexist even when they did not like each other.
In the days since the Olympics’ closing ceremony, we have seen the blue and white flag, the flag of the modern Greek state, in our land, far from symbolism and myth, on ships and on bumper stickers, on the uniforms of firefighters and members of the armed forces, on balconies – everywhere, the background of our lives, our reality, with all its good and all its catastrophes. We saw multitudes of visitors enjoying our land and our history, but we also saw the lack of infrastructure and lack of foresight which alienates locals and foreigners alike.
We have lost control and the measure of things; excess destroys the beauty on which we rely so as to maintain our excesses. Extreme behavior is the norm
Despite the evident dangers and bitter lessons of the past, despite the protests, we saw gardens, hillsides, mountain ridges and plains being consumed by cement monsters and insatiable greed. We have lost control and the measure of things; excess destroys the beauty on which we rely so as to maintain our excesses. Extreme behavior is the norm. Decency and kindness, now noteworthy exceptions, find response among fewer and fewer. And yet, in the chaos of sloppiness, illegality and impunity, these people are more than we imagine. They create new beauty and maintain traditions (often with the necessary revitalization). They create bonds which keep alive the love that people feel for our land. Whether professionals or volunteers, they fight against fires and official and private impunity, when others observe from a distance, through lenses of bile.
The flag waves over every public building, whether those inside honor their position or exploit it to the benefit of friends and themselves. In politics, which have the responsibility and the ability to change things, strife rules. The well-known, ever-present Eris of Homeric times, the temptation to stab allies in the back, to wipe out rivals, to succumb to the pleasure of conflict and momentary domination.
As in society, so in our politics, grabbing an ephemeral opportunity takes precedence over the planning and hard work that will secure the future. And yet, in every corner of the land and every profession, in villages and on islands, on sea and on land, there are women, children and men who keep the whole together, who join yesterday with tomorrow. They are seeds on increasingly barren land, but seeds nonetheless.
