Greece: The First 100 Days

Some fear is necessary these days to keep the people from doing silly things.

This is good for the people. When they are afraid, they behave themselves.

— Brig. Gen. Stylianos Pattakos Minister of the Interior The Greeks are behaving themselves all right, but what Greek can be happy if he never does silly things? After its first 100 days in power, the junta that took over Greece in a lightning coup has restored order to a country that was torn by political strife. It has done so at the expense of much of Greece’s exuberant, explosive spirit. The image of a surtaki-dancing, owzo-glass-smashing people is being replaced by that of a docile folk whose chief concern seems to be getting to church on time and keeping the young girls out of miniskirts. Not since Calvin put the fear of God into Geneva has any regime so devoted itself to reforming the moral character of its citizenry.

Down with Who’s Who. Special military courts-martial have been set up all over the country to punish Greeks who offend against king, church or junta. In Athens a worker was sentenced to one year in prison for “behaving like a Teddy boy,” a tradesman to six months for “disobedience to authorities.” Mikis Theodorakis, the noted leftist musician who composed the score for the film Zorba the Greek, last week was sentenced in absentia to 5¢ months in prison for offending the honor of the royal family. An estimated 150 to 200 Greeks are already behind bars on such charges, and more are arrested each week.

The junta also seeks to reform Greece by issuing an almost endless list of dos and don’ts. A few outlandish decrees, such as the ban on beards, were prudently withdrawn, but others have stuck. The junta has blacklisted the works of nearly 300 Greek and scores of foreign authors, some Red, but others simply liberal, such as Senator J. William Fulbright. They have stripped Actress Melina Mercouri and some 400 other Greeks abroad of their citizenship, because they have “lost their Greek soul and conscience.” They have banned Who’s Who in Greece; it devotes too many pages to former Greek politicians.

Summer is “the Season” in Greece, but this year it is dull. Tourism, Greece’s main source of foreign exchange, is off by 50%. A decree forbidding five or more persons to assemble without prior police permission has all but killed Athens’ social life. Many of the artists and troupes that were scheduled to perform at Greek festivals—including the Kiev Ballet and the Los Angeles Symphony Orchestra—have stayed away. Some of Athens’ theater audiences are peppered with relatives of army officers who get free tickets to keep the attendance up. Even so, the censors are vigilant. In a play in Athens, an actor drew unexpected applause when he recited, “I shall complain to my Deputy in Parliament.” Censors snipped out the line before the next performance. In another play, a woman whose husband had left her joyfully cried: “Now I am free!” The audience cheered. The line was quickly changed to “Now I am carefree.”

Recession Fears. Under Strongman Colonel George Papadopoulos, 48, the junta has made other changes in Greece. It has brought order, though of a far too repressive brand, to a country whose politics had grown dangerously faction-ridden and inflammatory. It has reduced the cost of living by cutting bus fares, scaling down some artificially high crop subsidies, and lowering the price of bread by 21 cents per loaf. Greece’s military rulers have made the trains, the mail, and the bureaucrats arrive on time. On the foreign front, they have begun promising negotiations with Turkey to end the long-standing dispute over Cyprus. Colonel Nicholas Mararezos, 47, the Minister of Coordination, who is the least conspicuous of the ruling triumvirate (Pattakos is the other member), has signed up nearly a dozen foreign companies, including Union Carbide, Litton and France’s Pechiney-Saint-Gobain, to build new plants or expand their activities in Greece. Still, the country is drifting into a recession, partly because of an almost complete standstill in the once buoyant construction industry, and the junta may be faced by fall with a full-scale economic crisis.

Royal Pressure. Almost to a man, Greece’s civilian politicians feel that organized resistance to the junta would only lead to repression and violence. They feel that the wisest course is to remain quiet and give young King Constantine a chance to work on the junta. The King at first opposed the coup, then decided to go along with the junta officers in hopes that he could influence them. The King has called for national elections some time soon after a commission of jurists finishes a new Greek constitution in early December. After the elections, he hopes that the junta will graciously step aside and allow Greece to become once more a functioning parliamentary monarchy.

The soldiers feel that their mission cannot be completed quite so quickly. Says Lieut. General Gregorios Spandidakis, 57, the Defense Minister: “The situation the old politicians left the country in was so bad that it will take a long time before we get Greece on the right path again.” Pattakos is more explicit. “We are under no obligation to hold elections,” he says. “We feel we restored normal conditions after the April 21st revolution. Why should we return to abnormal conditions?”

The King is touring the country to build up his prestige so that he can exert more leverage. The junta-controlled Greek press carefully plays down the King’s travels. In some towns the King finds that the microphone is suddenly missing when he wants to make a speech; in others he is greeted by mayoral speeches sent ahead from Athens that unctuously praise his support of the junta. In the past, King Constantine has referred to any Greek cabinet as “my government,” but he now calls the junta simply “the government.”