We’re not trying to be condescending here, but JUST IN CASE YOU DON’T KNOW, everyone in Greece is very angry at the moment. Mostly because the country is so extremely dirt poor it’s becoming the IMF’s bitch. Our friend was protesting out there yesterday and sent us these words and pictures.
On Tuesday morning I woke up as usual at around 8:30 AM to finish some sketches for work. By 10:30, though, I was out on Syntagma Square. The 48-hour national strike was commencing, and within half an hour of my arrival, the square—which has become a base camp for everyone who’s Greek and disgruntled—was full. Full of trade unionists, anarchists, junkies, militant students, police, and others who may or may not have been hired by the police to crack protester skulls.
Mainly, though, it was full of Indignados: average people. It’s not often that the average are awarded their own quasi-mystical moniker. It’s also not often that they are able or willing to come together under the same banner, especially a banner that was first held aloft by the Spanish. I’m sure some people would like to believe that this signified a European Spring, but I don’t know about that.
The Indignados have been residents of Syntagma Square for over a month now, and as time has worn on the spirit of resistance has gradually quietened. Monday was an extremely quiet day, but given everything that’s happened since then, I guess there’s a reason the phrase “calm before the storm” exists.
It wasn’t long before police threw the first round of tear gas bombs in our direction. They came from out of the blue and quickly sparked everyone into action. The crowd went berserk. It’s always this way. I know for a fact that yesterday the police were ordered to disperse the crowd at whatever cost, so when they began their assault, they did it extremely quickly.
Frankly, at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if someone died. There’s even talk of organizations being hired by the police to fight protesters in plain clothes and with weapons cops are not allowed to use. The police in Greece operate autonomously now. All ties with the Ministry of Public Order seem to have been severed. They do what they want.
I was on Vasilissis Sofias street yesterday, and all of a sudden the road was swarmed by an army of police motorcycles. There must have been 500 of them, all driving towards us. One would have thought a coup was taking place.
After that, it was chaos. Everywhere I looked small groups of people were fighting, throwing stones, and breaking windows as well as pretty much everything else they encountered. As a witness, I can’t really tell one person from another, but there are certain faces I see all the time. At times, the police and the protesters seemed to call each other by name, and whenever the more militant sections of the crowd or the Indignados would break something, they’d do it in a relatively controlled manner. It was like a strange theater was playing out in Athens, one exploring the themes of human frustration, the nature of farce, and how bad tear gas tastes.
In Athens people are always giving the finger, calling each other out, and running around like lunatics in handmade masks. The thing that’s impressed me most is the hardening of the photographers. A few months ago they wouldn’t dare come down to the protests, but now they stand right in the middle of things, with stones and gas bombs continuously raining down on them. The stones are the craziest things of all—they’re less stones, more gigantic pieces of rock. If you turned your eyes to the ground of Filellinon and Amalias street on Tuesday, you’d feel like you were standing on a pebble beach.
By 7 PM the riots had stopped and the crowd had started gathering at the square again. This time it was families who had come for the 9 PM concert. There was no concert, though. An hour after the rioting had stopped, and just as the speakers were calling for people to gather to hear the music—played by 80s and 90s Greek rock bands like Tiger Lilies, Vangelis Germanos, and Vasilis Papakonstantinou—the police started another tear gas bombardment. The crowd dispersed, and this time there was no violence.
By 10 PM people were camping in the square again. I couldn’t sleep Tuesday night—I guess I was still loaded with the day’s adrenaline—and as I write, I know that tomorrow will be eventful as well. It’s almost July, and people have been on the square for 35 days.
WORDS: STUPID GREG
PHOTOS: ACROPOLIS NOW
Today the latest austerity bill was passed through the Greek parliament by 155 votes to 138. If a second vote on Thursday—aimed at reforming the laws that currently prevent the new austerity measures being implemented—is passed, a £98bn EU and IMF loan will give Greece another six months to turn its economy around or completely run out of money.
Popular feeling seems to suggest that the more likely scenario is the latter, which isn’t gonna do much for a government’s popularity when its already slashing public sector salaries and pensions, and attempting to impose sweeping tax hikes upon a population currently experiencing 16 percent unemployment.
Check back on Viceland tomorrow for more news.
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