(this is an article i submitted for the 2011 Economist/FT Nico Colchester Journalism Competition "Will the Euro survive?" - didn't achieve any success, but still i like it)
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| Cyclops, Redon |
Nobody
is aware of this story!
Some
could argue that the poet avoided including this part in his epic,
because he didn’t want to insult Poseidon, but I can guarantee you
that it was simply because he didn’t want the cow to steal the
glory from the horse!
As
soon as they landed on that rocky island, they decided that an
initial fellowship of twelve Sintrofi
would
set out to find supplies. After wandering for hours, climbing sharp
rocky cliffs, crossing muddy paths and suffering an Aeolian curse
they decided that the huge dark cave in front of them would provide
them shelter for the night. And they were so exhausted, that Morpheus
travelled their minds back home whispering promising Alexandrian
poems:
When
you set sail for Ithaca/
wish
for the road to be long/
full
of adventures, full of knowledge…
The
torch’s heat warmed their faces so much as if Hephaestus himself
was kissing them with passion. They covered their eyes screaming in
pain and when the heat wave disappeared, the deafening sound of a
huge rolling stone covering the entrance made them turn; turn towards
the intruder.
“Welcome
to my home, strangers!”,
the voice of a smiling Cyclop echoed violently in the cave making
their hearts shake to each of his syllable and each of his blink.
Standing over them, around five bodies tall, the gigantic one-eyed
beast, carrying an oversized cow on his hairy neck, was expecting a
careful answer.
“We
are no strangers, Cyclop! My name is Kanenas* and I bring you pure
wine to honour the Gods!”
the leader of the Sintrofi replied bravely lifting up his amphora.
The Cyclop dropped the cow to a corner and enjoyed the offer. The
wine was powerful and, before passing out to the ground, he shouted:
“But
I need food along with my wine… Nobody, you offered me wine, so I
will eat you last…last…”
The
first days, when the economic crisis monopolized the daily 8pm
television news programs, nobody in Greece was actually panicked. We
are so used in watching daily one-hour prime time “breaking news”
for any issue you can imagine - from genetically modified tomatoes to
top-models filming porn – that the crisis was nothing more than the
next morning’s coffee-in-the-office hot topic.
We
love the sun, we love the sea, but above all we love philosophizing
using new words and names to impress each other: “Kalimera!
The Greek CDS rose dangerously yesterday and I believe that the IMF
destroyed Argentina…”,
“Kalimera!
I heard about it, but yesterday Papandreou had private meetings with
Strauss-Kahn, Merkel and Obama explaining them the issue in fluent
English!”
Of
course, after few months, when the EU and the IMF financial
guidelines were cheerfully voted in the Greek Parliament the crisis
became more than a television debate. My sister, for example, who
works for the public sector, immediately experienced a salary
decrease of around 20%. She doesn’t care if it is in Euro, Drachmas
or potatoes; she simply wants her standard of living back.
Greeks
got upset with the political system, the same system that they have
been feeding relentlessly for the past thirty five years. All
ideologies (for sure, please also include in the list the paneuropean
idea) collapsed and uncertainty for the future prevailed.
Demonstrations, riots, anger and fear…
We
were not actually the weakest link, but geographically, standing at
the corner of Europe with no borders to any other Eurozone member,
the most vulnerable. Apparently, since the huge Greek debt is an old
story, some powerful forces decided that now was the appropriate time
to kill the Euro. In our times, is hard to say if these Cyclops are
economic centers serving national interests, company profits, elite
clubs caprices or even simple individual vanities (o
tempora, o mores!). In
the end, the Greek economy crisis was nothing but a Trojan horse and,
as you remember, the Trojan horse was carried inside the castle by
the Trojans themselves. The classic trick worked: the Greek issue
became a European issue and the horse was carried to Brussels.
But
do you really think that Brussels has more power over the national
governments? Perhaps has more than Athens, Dublin or Helsinki, but
for sure not more than Berlin, Paris or Rome. The national interests
of the last ones will prevail over any paneuropean idea and the
wooden horse will go back to where it came from. Well, unless they
burn it there so as to have total control of the fire…
Nobody
gathered the Sintrofi and explained them the clever plan in detail:
They would blind the Cyclop with the huge torch. The Cyclop would
wake up screaming and, in his despair that he couldn’t find them,
he would shout for help. The other Cyclops would come and ask him who
blinded him. He would reply: “Nobody
blinded me!”
and they would leave pissed off that he woke them up in the middle of
the night. In the meantime, they would tie themselves to the
underside of the huge cow and when the Cyclop would decide to take
the cow out, they would be freed.
It
sounded like the perfect plan and all Sintrofi agreed except one
young boy, who posed the most unexpected question: “What’s
the name of the cow?”
The Sintrofi were confused. “This
cow is Zeus’ gift. We must pay tribute to him!”
the boy continued with more courage. Nobody nodded and proudly
proposed: “The
King of Olympus once assumed the form of a dazzling white bull to
abduct the gorgeous princess Europi**, so since we fight with a
broad-eyed beast, Europi is the perfect name!”
“I
will call her Euro…her nickname!”
the young boy added and all the Sintrofi laughed loudly making the
sleeping beast breath unpleasantly. Nobody ordered them to be silent
and to protect the divine cow.
So,
this is my point: Facing the Cyclops, Nobody
really needs Euro to survive.
Dimitrios
Athanasiadis,
Poznan,
March
2011
(*)
Nobody
(**)
broad eye