When the Italian ambassador presented then Greek prime minister (a dictator in all but name) Ioannis Metaxas with a list of demands to open the country’s strategic places to Italian forces, the reply has gone down in legend as a short, simple “No” or “Ohi” – no explanations, no excuses, no room for misunderstanding or manoeuvre.
Ultimatums in history and their replies usually come at the end of a range of diplomatic manoeuvrings that have failed. The answers usually determine one of only to possible outcomes: Peace or war. No compromise is possible.
The words that Metaxas actually uttered in the early hours of 28 October, 1940, were delivered in French, the language of diplomacy and their tone were more pragmatic than defiant : “Alors, c’est la guerre” (Then it is war). His wife, Lela, is credited with spreading the story that his response to the ambassador, Emanuele Grazzi, was: “Grazzi, Ohi”.
That “Ohi” perfectly expressed the mood of defiance that Greeks felt after the sinking of the Greek navy cruiser Elli on 15 August. At that time, the Greek government claimed not to know who was responsible for the sneak submarine attack on the warship, despite the fact that the torpedo fragments recovered were of Italian design.
Metaxas had long been suspicious of Italian dictator Benito Mussolini’s designs on Greece. He had tried to strengthen Greece’s position through various means, including the possibility a defensive pact with Turkey, but the Italian ultimatum brought all of that to nothing. The gloves were off, time for war.
READ MORE: The importance of Ochi Day to Greeks
Greek history have many examples of short,punchy responses and the Spartans are credited with a few good ones.
As famous as “Ohi” was King Leonidas’ reply at Thermopylae to King Xerxes’ demand that the Greek forces opposed to him hand over their weapons. Leonidas’ spared two words in his answer. “Molon lave” put simply “Come and get them”. The rest is history.
That answer at least was a bit more diplomatic than the one received 10 years earlier by Xerxes’ father, Darius, who had sent emissaries to cities in Greece which had helped in rebellions against his rule on Asia Minor.
The Persian ambassadors came to the Greek states seeking a “gift of earth and water” – poetic symbols of submission to Persian rule. The response was not diplomatic. The Athenians put the ambassadors on trial and executed them. The Spartans wasted no words and flung them into a pit (the film “300” got that one wrong). Darius sent an invasion force which landed on a beach at Marathon.
Nearly two centuries later, Macedonia under Philip II rose to challenge the power of Sparta in Greece. His army invaded the Peloponissos and warned the Spartans in a message: “If I invade Laconia, you will be destroyed, never to rise again.” .
Ever short on words, the Spartans responded with a single-word, open-ended reply to the Macedonian ultimatum: “If …”
The upshot to that “laconic” reply was that while Philip and his son, Alexander, united Greece under the Macedonian banner, they did not try to capture Sparta.
READ MORE: ‘The Hour of Greece’, the impact of Ohi Day on American public opinion
Ultimatums have peppered history and the responses to them have given a punchy flavour to events.
In the American War of Independence, the American commander of the USS Bonhomme, John Paul Jones, engaged two English warships and could not realistically win. He was offered a chance to give up the fight and surrender before things got serious.
He replied: “I have not yet begun to fight!”. When he did fight, he lost his ship but in the process captured the HMS Serapis and the Countess of Scarborough.
In 1944, 165 years later, US general Anthony McAuliffe was faced by overwhelming German forces at the Battle of Bulge. He spurned German offers of surrender with one simple word: “Nuts”. The Americans held out at Bastogne long enough for reinforcements to arrive and turn back the Germans. It was their last major counter-attack in the Second World War.
The French had their own famous reply to an ultimatum. At the Battle or Waterloo, when it was clear that Napoleon’s great comeback was finally at end, his beloved Old Guard were offered terms of surrender. Their commander, Pierre Cambronne, was said to have replied: “La Garde meurt, elle ne se rend pas!” or “The Guard dies, it does not surrender”.
As with “Ochi”, the Old Guard’s reply was whittled down by legend to a simple response: “Merde” or “Shit”. General Cambronne, who was captured after the battle, denied uttering any response.
The last words go to an ultimatum that US president Theodore Roosevelt issued to the ruler of Morocco in 1904. A rich, American-born and naturalised Greek playboy, Ion Perdicaris, had been kidnapped by a Moroccan, Ahmed ibn-Muhammed Raisuli.
Roosevelt was not one to mince his words which in this case were: “Perdicaris alive or Raisuli dead.” Perdicaris was released and the incident boosted Roosevelt’s successful re-election campaign.
Incidentally the first time Ohi Day was celebrated at the University of Athens on the first anniversary, 28 October, 1941, under the noses of the occupying forces. The following year, the Greek resistance organised a celebration on Syntagma Square and in other cities in Greece. The people of Piraeus gathered in small groups to listen to speakers standing on chairs who delivered short speeches and then quickly dispersed so as not to attract the attention of the occupiers.
