There’s a description repeated with increasing frequency in the Greek public discourse which is simplistic to the point of falsehood. A description that paints political leaderships, on the one hand, as mired in their party’s internal affairs and squabbles, and “society” on the other as removed from politics and either inert or active in its own—different—sphere. In reality, though, Politics and Society have engaged with the same complex, volatile environment since Greece left the calm, albeit often paradoxical, post-dictatorship era behind fifteen years ago and entered a tumultuous era marked by multiple crisis. In this new historical context, there is a need to stress an event that has remained in the shadows. Because Greece’s recent history has led three different and overlapping “temporal realities” to coexist and intertwine in both the national agenda and—primarily—the experiences and representations of the Greeks themselves: the Memory of Bankruptcy; the Slow-burning Effects of Bankruptcy; and Future Threats that Impinge on the Present. Each of the three corresponds to a different psychological state and feeds into different perceptions of events and different expectations. And, being both intertwined and mutually conflicting, they make the period increasingly complex. This is, after all, what happens in periods of transition, like the one we are currently living through here in Greece and around the world.
For the vast majority of Greek society, including some SYRIZA voters, the memory of the bankruptcy decade has crystallized into a refutation of the “anti-memorandum” movement. The political change of 2019, the defeat of SYRIZA and its leader, Alexis Tsipras, was experienced as a return to “normality” and a rejection of perilous and ultimately futile choices. And it really has been a return to “political normality”, in the sense that the European democratic acquis of the post-dictatorship period has been reaffirmed. The psychological impact of the political shift was not really about the vindication felt by those who had joined forces so Greece would “remain Europe”. Rather, it fed into a broader psychological shift that would become a groundswell in the next round of elections, resulting in the liquidation of the party that represented and expressed opposition to the memoranda. The subsequent election of a tourist to lead the party—an enormous embarrassment for the Left—and defeat of the New Left—meaning the leadership of SYRIZA during its term in government, 2015-2019—shed light on the deep-seated impression the period had left on the social majority. At the same time, however, it was laying a psychological trap: the impression that the adventure was over, that “normality” had returned and life would go on as—or almost like—before.
It was the realization that this optimism was misplaced that ushered in the second “temporal reality”, as society has begun to grasp the long-term, slow-burn effects of the bankruptcy. Not only at the level of incomes, which was obvious, because everyone knows what they can and cannot afford, but also in the deterioration of infrastructure, social services and public goods, and in underinvestment. Because it wasn’t just the Greek people who slipped into poverty during the Crisis; the country itself became impoverished, too. Could society have been better prepared for the difficult post-memorandum reality? Yes, if New Democracy and PASOK had managed not only to defeat the anti-memorandum forces, but also to prevail ideologically and usher in a psychological climate of national reconstruction in Greek society. However, it would seem that New Democracy is incapable of waging ideological battles of this sort as a party, which is why, at the first sight of difficulties, the old discourses of insular nationalism and party-political parochialism re-emerged within its ranks. For its part, PASOK has regressed, squandering its hard-earned reputation for national responsibility in preference for an obsolete and fruitless Eighties-style anti-rightist stance. There is a real risk, in other words, that the pathologies of the past will become ossified obstacles to progress in the present. We know full well what needs to be done to put the country on a new track: investment, extroversion, more industry, bigger enterprises, innovation, schools that prepare children for tomorrow and not for a world that has gone for good, technological and professional aptitude and education, smart synergies between the public and private sectors, a radical restructuring of the agricultural sector, the organized reception of migrants. Obviously, goals such as these can be achieved through a range of policies with different priorities; each party is supposed to have its own, but the degree of variation isn’t as broad as the extreme polarization of party politics might lead us to believe. After all, all the main players accept the European social model, just as they all reject the Far Right and will work to stop it growing in strength in Greece. Still, it’s a difficult undertaking, as it requires in essence both structural changes to be made to Greek capitalism and the abandonment of political behaviors that have been entrenched since the restoration of democracy.
The landscape is further complicated by the emergence in the present of future threats. This became clear to us all this summer, when the impacts of the climate crisis both weighed heavily on our daily lives and created new and demanding challenges at a state level in a country that is not renowned for its effectiveness. This is the third “temporal reality” society is living through. Will we experience it as a dystopia that discourages us from looking ahead to the future, since “we’re all going to fry anyway”, as the young people say, or will the sense of threat activate our survival reflex and drive structural reforms now, in the present, to prevent the worst happening in the future?
The real challenge for political leaders, and above all for the government, lies in unifying these three different temporal realities into a single framework encompassing national strategy, collective psychology and collective expectations. Here, the memory of bankruptcy should serve as an alarm bell. Every serious analysis of the Crisis period agree that Greece paid a higher price than any other nation for the international crisis, and that this was due to its economic weaknesses, but also to the extreme political polarization, demagoguery and misguided political choices it experienced. Or, put another way, the political system itself became an aggravating factor in the crisis. This is a useful reminder in light of the new round of national difficulties that lie ahead, in which the doom-mongering, demagoguery and neurotic frenzy of parties and journalists could easily lead Greece down the road to new trials and tribulations. But the recent past has also bequeathed us something more positive. Through the crisis and despite it, we have formed a more dynamic national awareness of Greece’s history in modernity—one that leaves behind the old clichés of an impoverished nation doomed to underdevelopment and backwardness. Having now entered the new era of multi-crises and major geopolitical upheavals, we have no reason to return to old stereotypes and to belittling ourselves, as has become increasingly common of late. We now know that Greece managed to progress, but that the journey was precarious and marked by stops and starts, because it depended to a large extent on that unpredictable and uncertain factor we call the quality of Politics and Leadership. And that is another very useful warning to parties and citizens.
Yannis Voulgaris is Professor Emeritus of Political Sociology at Panteion University
