Are we in this together? OXI.

It is said that the cruellest lie, is that of self-deception.

So, let’s fess up and stop kidding ourselves.

In our rush to bathe ourselves in perennial glory and a sense of exceptionalism, we of Greek descent, invariably approach events such as 28 October, OXI Day, with rose coloured glasses.

Our bias is so extreme, that the lie is encrypted on our psyche.

For me, 28 October 1940, symbolises the kick-off of one of the most disastrous decades in Greek history.

A decade that saw OUR motherland descend into a chaos of self-mutilation.

A decade that saw my father’s village burnt to a crisp by the Germans, villagers die of starvation and reprisals and my father’s young brothers die of malnutrition.

A decade that, in my father’s words quickly culminated in “ο πρώτος και ο δεύτερος εμφύλιος” – the first and second Civil Wars. He was there and yes there were two Civil Wars that each did far greater damage than WWII.

A decade that resulted in the forced expulsion of its sons and daughters, scattered to the four winds in search of safe harbour.

There is no doubt that Greece heroically withstood the Italian provocation on the Albanian-Greek border for the better part of six months.

One fascist, Ioannis Metaxas, resolutely stood up to another, Il Duce, Benito Mussolini.

The undermanned and poorly supplied Greek army held back the conceited Italians who were so convinced of easy victory, that soldiers packed contraceptives and silk stockings for their upcoming conquests!

The whole of Europe had succumbed to the Nazis and the western world was quick to celebrate the unlikely heroism of the Greek people in achieving the first recorded victory over the Axis powers.

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Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt ‘pissed in our pockets’ and spoke of heroism, liberty and lofty ideals. We have been reciting these, παπαγαλίστικα (like well-trained parrots), ever since.

The Greeks were featured on the front page of newspapers around the world and in Australia, Greeks were applauded and heralded for belonging to a unique race. And how we blushed.

The well-worn propaganda surrounding OXI Day, has somehow clouded, even erased from memory, the bloody betrayal of the Greek people and the atrocities that followed over the subsequent nine years.

The betrayal that was authored by the same individuals – the same western powers – that initially lauded the Greeks and their achievements.

For the επαρχιώτες (laypeople in the countryside) like my parents, the call to arms was met with nationalistic zeal. From 1821-1936, Greece seemed to be in a constant state of war – whether against The Ottomans, the Turks or against themselves.

Greeks were determined to defend their hard fought for homeland.

The initial outpouring of nationalistic goodwill quickly turned into reluctant resignation. However, the Greeks in the countryside (unlike their counterparts across Western Europe) did not roll over on their backs and asked to have their tummy tickled.

The Greek resistance movement formed quickly and spontaneously. The ferocity and tenacity of the resistance was driven by the underlying promise that Greeks were fighting a ‘holy war’, a war of liberty – «απελευθερωτικός πόλεμος».

After all, we had been here before.

For people in my father’s village the quid pro quo was clear. Resist the occupation forces with every sinew in one’s body and in turn, the great powers would smile upon the Greeks, the λαό, and be granted democratic rights post war.

For the Greeks in the mountains it was their chance to finally – for the first time in history – see their dignity rewarded with basic human rights.

My father clearly recalls the promise. «Ήταν ευκαιρία τελικά, να γραφτούμε και εμείς στο χάρτι της Ελλάδoς». (It was a chance for the mountain folk, forgotten about by each subsequent administration, to be finally included in the map of Greece – to be finally worthy of consideration!)

But no sooner had the resistance begun, it was fighting Italians, Germans as well as the right-wing armies of the collaborationist Greek Government. Before long it was the British backed monarchy. Immediately thereafter, Greece was sucked up into the vortex of geopolitical machinations of foreign powers and was the first theatre of the Cold War ably abetted by compliant Greek ruling class.

History has a remarkable tendency to repeat itself.

It was the war of emancipation against the Ottomans all over again – where the klephts fought the αρματωλούς (the armed Greek guerrillas paid by the Sultan) and the Δερβένακες (Muslim guerrilla armies also loyal to the Sultan) before even getting to the Sultan’s own army.

Talk about stacking the odds.

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Just as in 1821, the Greek response was not homogenous and foreign powers quickly found fertile ground for their well-worn game of divide and conquer. Sadly, Greeks were only too happy to oblige.

Civil War I & 2 were up close and personal. Villagers set upon each other, brother v brother and hangings from the lamp post in the town square were commonplace or as my father flippantly recites, “ψωμοτύρι”.

Eighty years and thousands of kilometers removed, ρουσφέτια (political favours), ολιγαρχία (oligarchy), διχασμός (division), προδοσιά (betrayal), αφέλεια (naivety), and ματαιότητα (futility) are sadly some of the words I associate with OXI Day.

OXI Day should be a sombre reminder of our capacity to allow those above to play us like a harp in the mistaken belief that we are in fact, all in this together.