Greece: Then and Now, Part 5
by Marry Wakefield Buxton
Urbanna, Va.— Greece teaches history and economics like a textbook. As I walked the remains of the Greek Agora remembering that such great thinkers as Socrates, Plato, Aristotle and even St. Paul had walked the same paths, I realized their tragedy. Greece had never again reached heights of its “Golden Age of Pericles” 500 years B.C. when arts, sciences, architecture, philosophy flourished. Since then Greece has been plagued by foreign conquest, including over 400 years of rule by the Turks.
What do we know about Greece? Some may remember reading Greek history, philosophy and literature, such as the early Greek plays and mythology. Many can relate to WWII when Mussolini’s army over-ran the nation and the Greeks drove the Italians out. But, then, came the Germans. There was no driving out the Nazis until the liberation.
The Marshall plan helped rebuild Greece after the devastation of the war. There is a statue of President Truman in Athens commemorating U.S. help. In 1967 a military coup took over the country, and in the 1970s the Greeks voted to end their royal family. Today the nation has a democracy but socialists have been in power for years. The Papandreou family—grandfather, father, and grandson—ruled until last month when impending bankruptcy forced the grandson to resign. Whether new leadership can return Greece to solvency is yet to be discovered.
Besides a bankrupted government and severely recessed business community, Greece has many other problems. Athens has too many people. A nation of 10 million, over half live in Athens. Overpopulation has put too many cars on narrow streets with too few parking spaces. People leave their cars lined up next to the legally parked, penning them in. I heard many horns blowing in vain from those who hoped someone would come to move his offending car.
Graffiti is everywhere and ruins the beauty of the city. It’s sickening to see paint scribbled over marble buildings. A nation that cannot control graffiti is a nation that cannot balance its budget. If I were prime minister, I would lead a national day to clean up all the graffiti and ask every Greek citizen… student, merchant, housewife, politician, government employee to help erase all the graffiti. That could be a first step to rebirth of pride and self-empowerment to this beleaguered nation.
The Greek Parliament at the site of the old royal palace is made up of 300 representatives, a president and prime minister. The parliament is guarded by soldiers who dress in traditional Greek white uniforms. It is a special honor to be selected and the posts are reserved for exceptionally tall men.
We watched the changing of the guard on Sunday morning, which came with marching band and parade of the regiment. They marched down Syntagma Square in a slow-motion goose step. A dog led the procession and it was laugh-out-loud splendid. The dogs are everywhere and free to roam at will, and they make a visit to Athens a very happy event.
Greece enjoys religious unity as 95% of the nation is of the Greek Orthodox religion. However, illegals coming in across the Turkish border cause severe problems. There are no jobs, so illegals beg on the street, hop on and off trams and subways asking for money—always a male and a female, the female begging in her Muslim garb, the male playing an accordion or some other instrument and dominating the female.
I tried casting a cold eye on them. First, a little girl with big dark eyes and braids came to me holding up a cup and pleading for money while the male played an accordion. “Please, lady, please, give me a Euro,” she said with eyes that gazed at me that knew more of the world than I had ever known. I gave her money. Next was a woman with an infant tied around her shoulders while the watchful male played his accordion. And so on. Soon I was out of money and had to return to the hotel. No beggars at the Grand Bretagne Hotel.
It’s a sad world out there beyond the walls of the Grand Bretagne Hotel; beyond the loving, smiling, caring staff that meets our every need… beyond the unctuous service, sumptuous food and drink, polished marble floors, shimmering crystal chandeliers, heavy damask drapes and silk covered walls.
I suffered this truth in spite of my need to rest and recharge myself for my own life of work and paying taxes in Virginia to support my own country. Yet, I see pain of my fellow humanity every time I set foot on Syntagma Square and beyond, and illusions of happiness while others suffer are just that and nothing more.
Conclusion.
(Mary Wakefield Buxton wishes her readers a very merry Christmas. Her column will return in the spring.)
