Anti dictatorial craftmanship
Stories narrated by the philologist Virginia Vergi - Neri to her pupil Ioannis Kallianiotis and vice versa
Anti-dictatorial craftsmanship 1967 – 2017, fifty years later (Athens – Amorgos – Alexandria – Geneva – Rome – Paris – London)
Text and photos © Ioannis Kallianiotis, except where otherwise noted
DOWN WITH THE JUNTA
When one goes back to events that occurred fifty years ago or more, one approaches them from a different perspective, which is due not only to the temporal distance, but also to their integration into a broader narrative, which includes many different parameters, depending on the mood, readings, or phase of introspection of the observer.
Meanwhile, over time, information sometimes diminishes, because people move away geographically or inevitably, and with them their memories, and other times it becomes more abundant, because an archive is opened, or someone involved decides to record what they experienced, or even what they heard.
In the story that will follow, someone again chose to see the timeless influence of Hellenism's modes of action, on the occasion of a minor episode, amidst the many turbulent circumstances of this country and the people speaking the Greek language.
Nothing is missing from this story. There is the sly half-learned person, the noble-minded patriot, the young man's noble struggle, the craggy island, the folk wisdom, the spiritual fortitude, the citizen of the world, the benevolent West and, preeminently, omnipresent, the sense of hospitality. It is permeated by the desire for freedom, the centuries' longing of this language, of this part of the world.
Well, it was one day in 1968, when the news reached the two-story house in Chora, Amorgos: two exiles, a brigadier general and a politician, former minister, arrived in Amorgos by ship. The master of the house invited them to come up and offer them a cup of coffee. Shortly, they were climbing the steep staircase.
Nikolaos Neris, who had invited them, already had a significant career in public affairs, belonging to the not-so-numerous group of functionaries who, with education and dedication, had fortified the state apparatus. It was the era of the First Hellenic Republic (1924-1932), when Eleftherios Venizelos had summoned European experts to reorganize sectors of the state apparatus. An Englishman had been chosen for the Police, He had requested to be surrounded exclusively by University graduates. Neris, a law graduate, speaking French, was his personal choice.
But the Police? But how will we cooperate? I only speak French.
- I'll get you a translator!
( l995 pastel from a 1920's photo)
Much later, after the turmoil of the civil war (ended in 1949), he was summoned by King Paul. There, he “ascended to the Palace,” according to the expression of these times, and the King informed him of an important donation that wealthy Greeks of Egypt had made available to him. He intended to use it to establish a Foundation to encourage philosophical pursuits aiming towards a spiritual renaissance of the country.
"You know, Your Majesty," Neris observed, "most of the infrastructure has been destroyed and there is a significant number of unemployed young people who are scattered jobless in the territory. Perhaps the establishment of technical schools for their vocational training could offer many benefits at this juncture."
This was the beginning of the "King Paul" Foundation, which Nikolaos Neris directed for a number of years.
Later, Neris was marginalized from the so-called court environment and experienced firsthand the “ingratitude of the Kings.” This led him to the Tourist Police’s Tourist Facilities Inspection. During that period he met his future wife, philologist Virginia Vergi.
(photo taken in the Amorgos house)
So, that morning in 1968, the Deputy Minister of Education of the Government of "Old Man" Georgios Papandreou, Georgios Mylonas, and the Brigadier General of the Gendarmerie, Rouggieris, met Nikolaos Neris and his wife Virginia Vergi. Neris expresses his regret for their suffering, which is also that of the country, and offers to give them the house for as long as they remain in exile .
Being two-story, it will be able to accommodate you on separate floors as well as your families, when they come to visit. Of course, it does not have urban amenities, but it has electricity, water, (from the cistern for the moment) and most importantly, you will have your peace and quiet.
The exiles thanked him and offered to rent the house. Then, I withdraw the offer, Neris replies.
However, they will not be able to move in together, as the police prefer them to be isolated. Eventually, Mylonas will live in the house.
(rare period photo at the Amorgos house)
At the meeting, he will notice next to the photo of Neris' grandfather in national costume a saying crocheted on a hook: "THIS WILL PASS TOO" it read. Mylonas smiled bitterly.
"You know," said the hostess, "housewives weave folk wisdoms and decorate their homes. "Do you know," asked Mylonas, "if I could buy something similar?"
No, they don't sell them, but I'll knit them for you. I'm good with crochet, I haven't knitted letters yet, but I'll try.
Virginia Vergi-Neri, a Cretan, born in Fodele, the legendary homeland of Domenico Theotokopoulos, was fond of literature from a young age. The war forced her to leave school to help support her twin infant siblings, but as soon as circumstances allowed, she returned to her studies with vigor and graduated in philology from the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki.
She was a student of Stylianos Alexiou and a researcher on Kazantzakis. She taught in Greece and the Greek diaspora and traveled to the Cavafy Hellenistic territory, enriching her teaching and her lectures to the Greek diaspora.
Virginia Vergi-Neri during the dictatorship
( 1995 pastel from a photo of the times)
On her next trip to Amorgos, she had already woven "THIS WILL PASS TOO"
Shortly after, she made for the Brigadier General, "GOOD FREEDOM". Let me ask you a favor, he said, moved. Add one more thing: "AND QUICKLY". He had apparently a feeling, that he wouldn't survive the end of the dictatorship. He died in Corfu, in the summer of 1973, at the age of 57.
Mylonas had many discussions with the philologist and a trust was established between them. So one day he confided in her that friends were organizing his escape from the island, around the end of September 1969.
The philologist was working at the historic Averoff High School in Alexandria, Egypt at the time. She and Neris were staying at the mansion of his friend Loukas Benakis, who had left Egypt years ago, but maintained the mansion, mainly for the sake of the servants, whose salaries he paid without fail.
So in the evenings, as happened to many Greeks everywhere, it was time for "Deutsche Welle" and its Greek broadcast with the news of Greece, held captive by the junta. September was passing and Mylonas was not heard οf. The wait lasted until the end of October, when the obstacles that had arisen were removed and Mylonas, via Turkey, had arrived in Geneva where his friend Kostas Mitsotakis was waiting for him.
It is not at all unnecessary to underline that the idea of the escape and the inspiration of its executive core were Marika Mitsotakis' (wife of Kostas and mother of the actual Prime Minister of Greece Kyriakos Mitsotakis).
Georgios Mylonas photographed by his daughter in Amorgos
Soon Mylonas announced that he would like to correspond with the philologist in Alexandria, but under a code. Indeed, letters from Mylonas began to arrive at the Post Restante in Alexandria following the code of … handicraft.
He was supposedly an old female classmate, who had decided not only to get involved in crafts, but also to establish a group of craftswomen, with the aim of exchanging designs and producing a significant amount of work.
In this way and in… parables, he informed the Cretan philologist about the efforts to unite resistance groups in Europe against the junta. Among the… embroiderers who troubled him in plans and programming, one stood out… a girl from Patras ( read Andreas Papandreou), with a characteristic inconsistency, which was destined to trouble many for a long time.
Much later, the Neri couple learned details of the escape, which were published in magazines and newspapers in England and America. After all, one of the perpetrators was a Greek who had studied in America, Ilias Kouloukoundis, then the husband of Mylonas' daughter, Eleni ( today, an important visual artist).
A typical seafaring figure, the scion of a family of shipowners, exclusively English-speaking at that time, with an anti-dictatorial conscience, he exudes something Homeric.
It began with a group that had been formed in Italy, for the escape of Christos Sartzetakis (former public prosecutor in the Lambrakis, "Z", affair, and future President of the Hellenic Republic), who, uninvolved in the plan, had no intention of moving outside of Greece.
So the team set off on a nine and a half meter sailboat, for Amorgos and Mylonas. At the bow of the boat shone an impressive blonde girl, who stood out among the otherwise male crew and fueled speculation and discussions at the docks.
During a visit by the exile's daughter, the tavern where both Mylonas and the gendarmes ate every lunchtime had been agreed upon as a meeting place.
The sign of recognition was a copy of the book in English, "The Tragedy of Lyndon Johnson", a book that was rightly judged politically neutral but distinctive enough to rule out mistaken identity.
There were many delays for technical and other reasons, and as autumn progressed, the seas became less predictable and, most importantly, the days became shorter.
Finally, towards mid-October, the group set off. Ilias Kouloukountis, who had already visited Mylonas in Amorgos, was left in the deserted island of Antikeros.
The group of Italian…tourists made a remarkable entrance to the island and asked about the sights. At noon, they sat down at the agreed-upon tavern and made sure that “The Tragedy of Lyndon Johnson” was in a prominent place.
A few glances, a grimace, the recognition was done and everyone left silently, awaiting for dusk.
After his afternoon walk and the obligatory police check-in - with a signature, please - Mylonas retired to his house, from where he slipped away in the dusk towards the agreed-upon stream. Its dried-up bed would lead him to the spot where the sailboat would wait with its lights off.
Kouloukoundis' restless spirit and financial means had provided the latest technology of the times. A walkie-talkie for exile-ship communication and a timer for the house's electricity to give the impression of movement and life to the empty spaces.
Everything went as planned and Mylonas soon greeted his Italian saviors with a cosmopolitan "Bonjour les amis".
They sailed for Antikeros, where Kouloukountis was waiting patiently, and from there to Turkey.
There, in a seaside hotel, the Swedish diplomat who would receive Mylonas and accompany him to Constantinople had been awaiting for many days.
There, they checked-in, gloriously, at the Hilton Hotel.
The diplomat had provided for a passport and the family for clothes. However, they had forgotten the shoes and the combination of a city suit with Amorgos mountaineering boots could have betrayed the fugitive. The experienced diplomat also took it upon himself to buy shoes.
At the Hilton restaurant, the exile, after the gastronomic austerity of Amorgos, found himself faced with "the goods of Abraham and Isaac" and the orders followed one another, so much so, that they alienated the French-speaking waiters.
He pretended not to understand. Fortunately, because the waiters said something like… “insatiable”… in Greek!
The next day he flew to Geneva. But then the plane broke down! Fortunately, they had crossed Greek airspace and so, according to international law, they headed and landed in Rome. From there, the roads were open.
The escape was almost thwarted, due to the attention the exile received from the publication of an extensive op-ed by the New York Times Magazine on September 21, signed by Nicholas Cage , with "illegal" photos that his daughter had given to the journalist, calculating that the escape would have been preceded. Despite the poor coordination, it seems that Greek Security Services had other priorities and did not deal with the case.
The correspondence with the Cretan hostess of Amorgos continued until the end of the dictatorship, always with the same code of craftsmanship, since her letters were opened as far away as Alexandria. A colleague of hers at Averoff High School, who was a Greek/ Arabic scholar, was assigned by the local Security Service to read the letters that arrived written in Greek. A typewritten strip in Arabic, glued to the envelope, informed (?) the recipient accordingly.
The following is a letter from 1970 by G. Mylonas with an allegorical reference to his escape from Amorgos as "adventures of the cute one".
Letter by G. Mylonas, where he allegorically refers to the effort of joint resistance action by exiles of different political tendencies, "a handiwork with red and blue threads and all colors trying to create a harmonious whole. I found some good embroiderers who help me, but there are also some, especially that one from Patras (Andreas Papandreou) who are all talk and don't even stitch. Let alone that they are dangerous with their chatter. What can be done, that's how we girls are!"
In Alexandria again, the life of the Greek Community continued focusing on the Schools, the Patriarchate, the Consulate, and were closely supervised by the National Center (junta). In 1968, on the occasion of the Patriarchal election, the junta struggles to impose its own candidate, Iakovos Bishop of Mytilene, with the siege ram of the Alexandrian newspaper "Tachydromos" and all the means at its disposal. The Clergy and Laic Assembly will, however, elect the candidate of the "climate" of the Patriarchate (i.e. from within) the rather colorless Nicholas VI!
In Averoff High School, we receive the teaching of "Antigone": I was born to love and not to hate! Ah, remarkable and ultimately unforgettable!
Our philologist is Ms. Vergi. During the Christmas holidays, she does not travel "to Athens". Once she goes to Palmyra in Syria and returns with deeper reflections of the Hellenistic territory in Cavafy. Next time she goes to Persia (Iran), where in the name of Iskandar - Alexander the Great, people vibrate and greet.
Rich lessons, approaches unprecedented to us, despite the two and three generations in Egypt of thoughtful and other adjustments (according to Cavafy).
On the anniversaries of "NO" (the anti-fascist war of 1940) and the 1821 Revolution against the Ottomans, we go to church with our flags, we perform theatrical plays dedicated to" freedom"...
First row from left, Ioannis Kallianiotis, Rena Koufoudaki, Philippos Tripydakis.
Second row, Ioannis Papakonstantinou, Efi Pantetsi, Giorgos Dilaveris
Third row, ...Stavros Koutalidis,..., Doris Vloutis, Eva Simopoulou.
But what happens in the homeland? At home we buy Athenian newspapers once in a while. They are brought to our apartment by a giant with a shaved head and a thick whitish mustache, today we would describe him as a clochard. The "Acropolis", the "Apogevmatini". He also has magazines: Romantzo, Thesaurus. Of course, every afternoon, father brings home the Alexandrian newspaper "Tachydromos ". For the first read we kind of argue with my brother. There is formal information, but a big silence prevails. B.B.C , Deutsche Welle, we do not tune to. Our father is the Interpreter of the Greek Consulate with the rank of Chancellor and from some queues exchanged by our parents we understand that he is stressed at his job. He survives a heart attack. In church, he's on the left of the Consul General. It has been a while since any solemn discourse has been delivered. Only: "Long live the Nation"! ... Long live !
From the left, Sotirios Ellinas, Consul General of Cyprus, Mrs. Ch. Papadopoulou, Charalambos Papadopoulos, Consul General of Greece, Spyros Kallianiotis, ..., ... Behind Mrs. Ch. Papadopoulou on the left Sofoklis Christofides, Ioannis Straftis. Behind Sp. Kallianiotis, Kostas Kartsonakis Giorgos Christodoulides, Consular employees.
In the third grade of high school, I have read all the "revolutionary" (pro junta) propaganda and in a related report I got a 20/20! My report was read in class. However, as I grow older, something seems not to sit well within and in the fifth grade I begin my political differentiation...
One of the topics of the report that our philologist Virginia Vergi will give us will be “Interview with a personality of our times”. I chose in this year 1972. H.E. the Viceroy and Prime Minister Mr. G. Papadopoulos (dictator of Greece). The interview is serious, the answers are expected, when the personality asks for a short break. The specialist has arrived, so that our hero can try on the vestments of the Archbishop…as he will soon assume this position as well…Brilliant report(…).
Eternally naive, I expected my teacher to laugh at my joke and perhaps even make me read my witticisms to the class so that all could laugh. Publicly, my report was completely ignored.
As I was leaving the class, my teacher called me over discreetly to tell me that she would be holding my report at her house and that I should think about the position of my father, who could be…exposed by a similar text.
I couldn't imagine then, what she was making at home with her crochet hook.
There in Alexandria, she remembered what she was knitting for the exiles of Amorgos and picked up the crochet hook again.
She remembered the slogans they shouted following the funeral of "The Old Man" in Athens in 1968, whilst passing in front of the closed Parliament.
UNLOCK THE PARLIAMENT
The funeral of George Papandreou, a politician who was at the center of controversy in 1944 and 1965, was the first major anti-dictatorship gathering in Athens, acting on multiple levels and in a unifying manner.
The immense crowd surrounding the hearse
Kyveli, the grand star of the Hellenic theatre, since the beginning of the century, widow of George Papandreou at the funeral. His son Andreas and the rest of the exiled family were not granted a permit to assist.
The dictatorial regime offered a national funeral, but Kyveli (separated since long ago from the "Old Man") refused and bore all expenses.
"No" was the legendary answer of the Greeks facing fascism in the 1940 war.
The coffin of the "Old Man" exits the Cathedral
And the crochet hook will continue to knit until:
17th of November 1973, day of the repression of the students' revolt
The same slogans were met by her student, who fared to Athens, the Metropolis of Hellenism and passed the exams of the School of Chemical Engineering at the National Technical University of Athens
After saying goodbye to Alexandria
The graduates of Averoff High School and Salvago Commercial School, 1972 .
First row seated: Stratos Kassimis, Konstantinos Astor (Salvago), Grigoris Saatsoglou (S), Notis Lyssaios (Classical), Ioannis Kallianiotis (Practical), Philippos Tripydakis (P), Ignatios Notias (C), Nassos Rittas (C), Giorgos Delaveris (C), M. Papasavvas (C), Nikos Marmaras (C).
1st row standing: Anna Xenoudaki (S), Jenny Dayanti (K), Virna Manolaki (K), Virginia Vergi, our professor (not yet Neri), our Gymnast, Symeon Symeonidis Director of Salvago School, Dimitrios Ravanis Principal of Averoff High School, Adamopoulou philologist, Athina Retou philologist, Rena Koufoudaki (K), Tina Papassideri (K), Mary Apostolou (S)
2nd row: Behind Mr. Symeonidis Antonis Economakis, philologist, Theophanis Bousoulas, mathematician, Panagiotis Karmatzos, philologist, Mary Synodinou, professor in English, Stamatia Konstantinidou (P), Dimitra Papaioannou (C), Maro Drevenitsou (C)
Behind Ms. Synodinou, Nana Doudounaki (C), Eva Simopoulou (P),..., Papadopoulou (S).
Missing from the photo: Ioannis Antoniou (P), Apostolos Chionas (P), Giorgos Velentzas (P), Stavros Koutalidis (P).
(P) for practical section
(C) for Classical section
(S) for Salvago Commercial School
Below we see him in Athens Polytechnic, happy and naive at 17, with his fellow students each carrying their own cardboard box with the necessary lab supplies.
NTUA October 1972, 1st year Chemical Engineering
From the left: Ioannis Kallianiotis, Lena Grigoropoulou, George Sigaras, Leonidas Stergiou, George Drogaris, Eleni Antoniou, Nikos Skandalis, Zissis Grammoustianos
In the laboratory
Emmy Iliadou, Lena Grigoropoulou, Ioannis Kallianiotis
or for coffee at Patisserie Papaspyrou, Syntagma Square
From left: Ioannis Kallianiotis, Ludmilla Sverdleva, Emmy Iliadou, Pavlos Mavros,... Dimitris Perros, Eleni Athanassaki, Spyros Oikonomakos, Eleni Antoniou, Lena Grigoropoulou
It would take him the entire first year of studies, 1972-73, to recover from the exams, first the high school graduation exams in June, immediately after, the entrance exams to the Alexandria Polytechnic at his father's request, and then an intensive three-month preparation in Athens, and the entrance exams for expatriates in October.
There also he was saved by text exams, but only after private lessons from Mr. Theophylaktos, who taught him that he must write what the examiner wants to read… that is, a report of ideas, but not your own, but those that you assume the average examiner wants to read. And the topic in the exams was “Metron ariston” (Moderation is excellence)…
It will also take time to adapt to Athens, despite all the family warmth at my uncle and aunt's house.
First theatrical performance with the theater-loving aunt, Lorca's "Mariana Pineda" starring Anna Synodinou.
The audience was given a small leaflet with the lyrics of the show's iconic song and we all sang together, "A day full of sadness in Granada, even its stones cry, watching her die on the gallows because the beautiful Marianna did not betray."
I can still hear the music and the thunderous applause to the obviously anti-dictatorial spirit of the performance.
The academic year 1973-74 was, at least superficially, quiet at the Athens Polytechnic, while at the Law School the first anti-dictatorship protests were a fact.
On my first visit to Alexandria, the Consul General warned me in the presence of my father that if he heard anything about me, he would request that my studies in Athens be interrupted.
The protests continued into the fall of 1973, when elections were held in the country's student associations.
Most of the ballots were cooked in the Security premises, but for the Polytechnic, there were the exceptions of the Civil Engineers and the Chemical Engineers, who safeguarded the procedures and produced the only democratically legitimized students' councils, following historical General Assemblies in the Great Amphitheater of the School of Chemical Engineering, the famous MAX.
The dictatorship reacted by stopping the deferment of military service for elected council members as well as other "earmarked " students.
At the then still male-dominated Polytechnic, this was deemed sufficient, but they did not take into account the militancy of the many "passionarias" of the student movement that the measure could not touch. With these and more, the movement of questioning grew and came close to rebellion.
Daily demonstrations, occupation of the Polytechnic University and…
The Athens Polytechnic surrounded by crowds, November 1973
PEOPLE GIVE US YOUR SUPPORT
LONG LIVE DEMOCRACY
DOWN WITH THE DICTATORS
Protests in the Athens Polytechnic
Demotic Cretan song
Lots of people everywhere, most of them unorganized. A sense of celebration combined with anxiety about the outcome. For a few days, state forces withdraw from the spotlight, the people spread out and express themselves. But what are the possibilities? Are there any?
The mornings are somewhat quiet, things pick up somewhat at noon and in the afternoons people demonstrate in a frenzy. Sofia Vembo ( aged singer, symbol of the anti-fascist 1940 war), goes out on her balcony on Stournara Street (one of the streets surrounding the Polytechnic), smiles broadly and greets. Tear gas is fired down on the street. The blinded crowd smashes the windows of the entrance and pours in. Doors open and we are let into the apartments.
At home, Uncle Jim and Aunt Koula are anxious. They are responsible for the "child" and things are getting rough. Aunty will also find out one day, when she goes to the shops downtown. There, inside a police van, she thinks she sees her nephew with a small stream of blood on his forehead. She demands to enter in to the van. It's not him and fortunately the young person doesn't have anything serious. She will say something critical to the policeman and will come out again! Uncle's blood pressure gets high and the bathtub will turn red from his nosebleeds.
Uncle Jim and Aunt Koula Anastassopoulou
I cower. On the night of the 16th of November I sleep at home (like the rest of the nights, anyway).
YOU ARE OUR SIBLINGS
In the early hours of the 17th of November 1973, the tank crushes the gate of the Polytechnic
On the afternoon of July 23rd, day of general mobilization, the possibility of imminent war and no public transport available, my friend Lena and I, will hitchhike to Athens to donate blood to the "Evangélismos" Hospital.
We are stopped by the narrative from a transistor before the flower shops surrounding the Parliament.
The leaders of political parties up to then prohibited by the junta, have been summoned to a meeting by the crumbling military.
Panagiotis Kanellopoulos (last legitimate prime minister in 1967) will arrive, driving himself his grey Mercedes. The crowd grows, other politicians, Evangelos Averoff and Georgios Mavros arrive.
They decide to call the exiled in Paris statesman Konstantinos Karamanlis to take the reins of power.
Years later we would learn that among the crowd was Amalia Karamanlis (former wife of the leader and iconic member of Athens' social scene), wearing a scarf and large black glasses.
It's getting dark, some people are lighting candles. The first slogans are being chanted. Smiling police officers are keeping the streets open.
A shopkeeper says: imagine now seeing Despina (Papadopoulou, the dictator's wife) walking up the avenue with Domazos (the football star)...
Time to go home (walking a few Km...).
In the middle of the night we will hear the only plane that flew in that night and brought Konstantinos Karamanlis from Paris.
We will see better, hopeful days, with large gatherings for the Cyprus issue, the removal of pro-junta figureheads during historic assemblies at the MAX.
ELECTIONS! On the very day of the first anniversary of the Polytechnic revolt: 17/11/1974
A scent of spring persists and exudes from these memories of 1974 and 1975, like a vindication at last of Stratis Tsirkas' "Lost Spring" (iconic novel on hopes lost at the period before the dictatorship).
Epilogue
These stories and the exchanges of memories between the philologist and her student took place in 2017, 50 years after the declaration of the dictatorship.
And as Hadjidakis (iconic music composer Manos Hadjidakis) wrote about another loss:
In memory of an old photo, of a wall that has collapsed...
Photos and text © Ioannis Kallianiotis, except where otherwise noted
