Greece has a self-image as a country that says “no”. On October 28th every year the country celebrates “no day” (oxi day), remembering the occasion in 1940 when General Ioannis Metaxas refused to allow the Italians and Germans to occupy Greece without a fight. This brought Greece into the war – in fact, for a while in 1940 Greece was Britain’s only ally, and the Greek armed forces (which had been expected to simply roll over and accept subjugation) met with some early substantial successes, rolling the Axis powers quite some way back into Albania. Greece’s small army didn’t stand a chance in the long term, and the country was occupied from 1941 until the end of the war, but that moment of stubbornness was internalised as a national truth.
National identify can inform the behaviour of its citizens. Greek students have always been a bolshy lot – the University of Athens has long been a stronghold of the Greek Communist Party, the unions are punchy, and protests (bordering on the riotous) are a common fixture of the streets around Syntagma Square, the seat of Greece’s parliament. The population mainly reacted with delight when their politicians took the country into the Euro in 2001; it was widely known that the Greek government had cooked the books in order to qualify, but this was perceived as the wily Greeks getting one over on the stuffed shirts of Brussels. Mutterings in Berlin about chickens coming home to roost are not without justification.
Last night the Greek government passed an austerity bill (after a torturous negotiation process) that cuts another 150,000 public service jobs and slashes the national minimum wage. The response has been muted; social unrest has been restrained (by Greek standards; reports of 80,000 on the streets yesterday is big for any other European country but the fact that they were only out for a day or two speaks volumes), despite the lurid images being broadcast to the rest of Europe. The country of no seems beaten into submission.
Greece’s role in all of this is to be the sacrificial goat. Greece has the option of default, ejection from the Euro and an internal restructuring – which would be painful in the medium term, when the country has restructured enough to want to go back to the bond markets, but far less painful in both the short and long terms than the current retrenchment being enforced upon it. Greece can’t grow, and will thus never be able to pay its debts under the current status quo. But Greece’s parliament has been persuaded that the Euro crisis is Greece’s fault, and that its sacrifice is necessary for the sake of the Euro. And so it falls on its sword.
Unquestionable, however, is the claim that a Greek default would cause massive contagion. Talk of a Greek collapse triggering a tumble in Spain, Italy and even France is not scaremongering; it’s a very real and present threat. The ECB’s strategy is not to prevent a Greek collapse; it’s simply to stave it off for long enough to make sure that the fire won’t spread.
In 1940, when Greece was the only country in mainland Europe to stand up to Hitler and Mussolini, its spirited intransigence was hailed as a moment of national identity shining through. In 2012, Greece is once again singled out. I doubt that “yes day” will be remembered with quite as much fondness.
