Democracy and lawlessness

After the end of the 1967-1974 military dictatorship, we, as a society, decided that authoritarianism and the unchecked actions of the state’s repressive mechanisms had to be brought to an end – and rightly so. The gendarme had to be removed from the life of the Greek citizen, both literally and figuratively. We also accepted that democracy would not be cost-free.

Then came the compromises and a flexible interpretation of when and how the law should be enforced.

Whenever a fare inspector caught someone without a ticket on public transport, other passengers would rush to their defense, saying, “Leave the kid alone, he didn’t do anything.” When people vandalized public property – tarnishing university halls or the historic Trilogy buildings in central Athens – the chorus of the defenders of lawlessness would chant the familiar refrain about protecting freedom of expression.

Entire areas became havens of delinquency and crime.

Organized crime became disguised behind false ideologies, while certain groups of citizens created large zones of criminal activity and blatantly violated the law in public view. Anyone who dared to speak or write about it was immediately branded a racist or fascist by endless public tribunals.

To be fair, the ruling class of the country had a strong penchant for flouting the law with provocative impunity. In the 1980s, alongside the university vandals, the typical businessman would flaunt his status by driving with a police siren blaring, ignoring all regulations. This is how we arrived at the present situation. Our universities are far cry from their European counterparts; they are a sad exception. Meanwhile, gangs make off with anything from manhole covers in the city center to railway tracks.