A tale of two cultures - Tarnished ideals and skepticism color some Greeks� views of the 2004 Olympics
By John Ross - Kathimerini English Edition
Easter links Christendom as do few other events. The slow and painful death of Christ on the cross, and
the miraculous story of the resurrection afterward, is about as central a tenet to the Christian faith as
they come. It is celebrated in spring, another timely reminder that life springs eternal.
Yet any Westerner in Greece during Megali Evdomada (Holy Week) needs no reminding that Easter
also accentuates the dissimilarities between the Occidental and Orthodox Christian worlds. In Greece,
even in 2002, you really feel it, feel the quiet heaviness, hear the slow tolling of the bells, see the
normally disinclined flock to church daily, sense the absence of lighthearted activities. All this peaks this
evening, Good Friday, with the mournful carrying of the Epitapheios around town and city
neighborhoods, followed by the faithful bearing candles.
Just as Britain and America are separated by an ocean and a language, so too does the Orthodox
Easter Week contrast with the brief, chocolate-rabbit-and-jelly-bean-based one in the West. The two
Easters are separated by differences in customs but a gulf in meaning and scale, if not exactly on the
scale of Samuel Huntington's �Clash of Civilizations.� And this year's five-week gap between the two
has merely underscored this reality. Late March is still late winter; by early May it's practically
summertime.
Easter is scarcely the Olympics, and, in fact, offers a welcome break from preparing for (and reading
about) Games over two years away. But Easter's dual role as both a bridge and a divider between the
two worlds offers a lesson for understanding the continuing hesitancy by many Greeks to embrace the
coming Games with abandon. This theme was taken up a few weeks ago; now I'll resurrect it again,
hard as it is to try to look into a nation's soul and then express what you see (though somebody's got to
do the dirty work).
Natural skepticism
Skepticism may be the most useful description for a large segment of Greek opinion - a term which,
building on this theme of duality, itself has a dual meaning. In English, �skeptical� means dubious or
doubtful of any received wisdom, but its Greek equivalent is closer to investigation or thought, learning
by means of questioning, assuming the absence of absolute knowledge (skeptikos = thoughtful,
pensive). And the word even has quasi-Olympic connections. A Skeptic was a member of the
eponymous school of ancient Greek thought - associated with Pyrrho of Elis, who lived in the 4th-3rd
centuries BC. Elis was the province in the northeastern Peloponnese where ancient Olympia was
located. By accident of geography if nothing else, the ancient Olympians were skeptics of the purest
kind, it seems.
In a fitting link across the centuries, their modern descendants, scattered around this ancient land but
concentrated to an excessive degree in the Attic basin, have been reluctant to embrace the Games that
will increasingly dominate public life until late 2004. Undoubtedly, many are just fed up with the
practicalities of preparing: the ever-present construction sites, dust, traffic, squabbling politicians, and
heavy costs. Even so, something else is at work too; despite the strenuous efforts made by Athens 2004
and undeniable progress in recent months, and in spite of what's involved, many who aren't opposed
are yawning. Why?
Much of the reason is likely abstract or metaphysical as opposed to something specific or concrete. In
terms of the Olympics, at least, Greeks are Platonists at heart, not Aristotelians; they are true believers
who question others' interpretations, and their belief (but also skepticism) is deeply rooted and
fundamental, not just based on relativist logic. Their concern also relates to what the Olympics
themselves mean.
It works something like this. The Olympics were born here and helped delineate the ancient Greek
world for nearly a millennium in a locational, religious/pilgrimage, architectural, and even
war-and-peace kind of way that long predated their athletic component. Classical education's decline
means that fewer and fewer Greeks (not to mention others) know the details of their ancient culture, but
that doesn't matter at all in this context. In fact, the sloughing-off of the detail merely reinforces the
Olympics' value as a generalized ideal. They are central to the national treasury and national psyche,
much more (because of their great duration) than even pivotal events for countries in the West, where
names like Hastings, Valley Forge, and Bastille have achieved near-universal, quasi-mythical
recognition in people's minds and hearts.
In 1896, the Olympics were revived out of this mix of fact and legend, developed in an age of
nationalism, and expanded further in a postwar world of dizzying economic growth and the blending of
commercial with political life. The contemporary Olympics movement is part of the globalization
phenomenon itself, with its blizzard of images, money, drugs, commercialism, offbeat sports, and word
inflation. The Olympics of today have matured, but they are also unwieldy, like an errant child.
The family analogy is indeed useful. The Olympics are Greece's metaphorical baby which was lured
away and fed by others less committed to the original; not just adopted but co-opted, snatched, and
gradually adulterated and doctored, like an overzealous plastic surgeon, so that the end result bears
scant resemblance to the original version. Now the long-lost child is heading back home. But the child,
hazily remembered as a cute, unspoiled, shy little boy, is returning as a brash, spiky-haired late teen
with an attitude. The returnee - same genes, but now in (torn) jeans - is somehow familiar, yet has
changed and grown beyond all recognition. The parents don't know quite what to make of him, yet
have little choice but to put on a brave face and put up with him as long as required. Love of a sort is
still there; but things have changed, and suspicion and dubiety rather than unquestioned acceptance
become the operative emotions.
Mixed emotions
The result is a mixed bag of unfocused but very real emotion in the host nation. There is no longer the
sense of haughty entitlement that left the bid for the 1996 Golden Olympics in tears. Rather, there is a
sense of the pressure of it, as if Greece not only has to host competent Games but also must somehow
do justice to the ancient version - even while its congested capital city tries to compete with the
Sydneys and Atlantas and Beijings of the modern world. There is a sense of acute inconvenience, as
long-delayed infrastructure works are raced into place and new roadworks give massive headaches to
the capital's long-suffering commuters (however crucial for the future). There is a sense of outrage over
modern (drug, commercial) excesses. And there is a sense of annoyance over foreigners moving in to
tell the Greeks - the keepers of the flame - how to run an updated version of their own ancient festival.
Parents never, ever like to be told how to raise their child, no matter if he's been away for years and is
practically unrecognizable.
In other words, there is an abiding sense for Greeks of the purity or nobility of the Olympics ideal. This
element may not be logical but it is real enough when considering Games whose size has ballooned
but whose high principles have seemingly shrivelled. Above all, perhaps, Greece's hosting of the
Games represents a necessary or inevitable discharging of a long-borne and heavy obligation. And with
2,700 years of history on their collective shoulders, not to mention the practical problems involved,
many Greeks understandably find it difficult to throw their arms up in joy about the whole enterprise.
The reaction to last month's unveiling of the Olympics mascots, Phevos and Athena, was typical; most
criticism seemed to center around the fact that they reminded one of �The Simpsons� TV characters
rather than whether they were attractive or marketable. I think there will be plenty of joy around when
the Games come around, but not yet.
Overcritical foreigners need to cut Greece some slack when it comes to the Olympic Games. And
Greeks, for their part, may need to lighten up just a little. We can't even go back to the world before
September 11, much less to the ancient Games, and what matters now is doing what needs to be done
while making these Games Greece's own celebration. It doesn't have to be like loving your tormentor; it
can be more like learning to love your fate - amour fati - which can be a great comfort in life. That's not
such a bad recognition here at (Orthodox) Easter.
http://www.ekathimerini.com/4dcgi/_w_articles_politics_442628_03/05/2002_16081