Democratic indignance in action

The day before authorities began removing the last of the ‘indignant’ protesters from Syntagma Square, Thomas Andronas tried to make sense of the situation

There’s something strange happening in Syntagma Square.

Here, in the heart of Athens, in the shadows of the halls of power where the official politics are done, an unofficial parliament has gathered. They’ve been living here since May, refusing to leave until the problem is solved. The problem is the omnipresent economic and political crisis that Greece is enduring. The resolution is yet to be found, yet here, democracy is in action; the people are having their say.

The square itself is full of tents. Pitched in the shade of the trees they are for sleeping, eating and discussing. There are information tents, propaganda tents and even a radio station tent. The people that inhabit these tents are called the ‘Indignants’ – a raggedy, semi-organised collective of leftist organisations, doing what they do best – talking. It’s impossible to put a number on exactly how many people there are living here, it could be a hundred, maybe more or less, but every patch of dirt is covered by a tent. It’s also difficult to ascertain exactly who is represented here.

It appears the regular activist types are here, the unemployed are here, and occasionally a smartly dressed professional appears. This last group tends to appear during the evening, when the ‘Indignants’ begin to gather for the evening’s ‘people’s assembly’. They are relatively well organised with a group called Real Democracy Now taking control and dividing them into groups, based on their professions and skills.

The idea is that the protesters spend their days discussing and debating the issues they are assigned, before bringing their findings and resolutions to the assembly. Around 8 pm the teams start to gather in groups around the tents and about an hour later they are invited to bring their discussion points to the assembly, which is meant to be gathered in the middle of the square, though on the evening I attend – a balmy evening in late July – they take their time. The clock ticks round to 9:30 pm and still nothing has happened, despite being urged by one of the organisers, who becomes so agitated that he places the teams’ unwillingness to attend the assembly on the agenda for discussion. When the teams finally arrive, the assembly begins.

A small crowd of about 50 people sit and stand in a semi-circle around a solitary microphone, in a scene reminiscent of what the nearby rock of Areopagus must have looked like in ancient times. The first speaker, from the Artists Team, comes forward and proposes that the assembly adopt as their anthem The Song of the Square, a song recently recorded by veteran Greek rocker Vasilis Papakonstantinou, a supporter of the cause. This proposal is then opened up to discussion, questions and rebuttal. One critic stands up and queries the ethics of accepting donations from one of the ‘filthy rich’ who many Greeks blame for the current crisis. “We’re not forcing him into any sort of economic involvement, more that we’re inviting him to become actively involved, as if to say, ‘come friend, sing with us… we don’t want your money, just come along’,” the original speaker says.

Ultimately, a vote is held, though the outcome in this case is unclear. Members of the assembly cast their vote by a gesture of the hand. Thumbs down means the proposal is rejected, fluttering fingers means the proposal is approved, and rolling hands signals ‘we’ve heard this before’. Another man stands up and argues the point further, suggesting that perhaps it would be best not to reject the contribution of a successful artist who has the ability to fill concert halls and assist the cause. His words are met with thumbs down.

The forum continues in this manner for hours with team after team presenting their points, questions being asked, and votes being held. It’s real democracy – governance by the people – though it’s questionable whether the resolutions made here hold any potency, whether the passion and determination of these people even registers with the official lawmakers.

Then, suddenly, I am approached by one of the organisers, and asked to stop recording the assembly. After a brief discussion about the undemocratic nature of the control of information, the assembly’s collective scepticism towards the press becomes clear. “We do not control the information, the information is [on our] sites for everybody to see and read, so whoever really wants to get the information, the information is there,” the woman, who identifies herself only as Maria, says. I stop recording.

It’s easy to think negatively about what’s happening in Syntagma Square.