The despair is over! Now the service begins! For the Athenians trapped in the slug-shaped tram, crawling beachward on a sweltering Saturday afternoon in late July 2004, the slogan emblazoned on the new trams shiny interior seems like a cruel joke. Transport ministry officials put these early delays (ninety minutes instead of the promised twenty from the city centre to the seaside) down to teething pains. At least the trams slothful pace makes its collisions with several wayward bikers and startled pedestrians less painful.
For Athenians, these incidents are just part of the thrilling, irksome, and often surreal experience of hosting this summers Olympic Games, which open somewhat inauspiciously on Friday 13 August. But for once, superstition is the least of Greeks worries: there are more practical concerns like putting the finishing touches to stadiums and metro stations and testing security systems to keep their worry beads clacking around the clock. The whine of the pneumatic drill has become as integral to the citys soundscape as the whirr of cicadas. Politicians have pleaded for patience from frustrated locals forced to negotiate traffic gridlock and construction chaos.
A fever of preparation
After seven long years of dust and detours, bickering and false starts, Athenians can hardly believe the Olympics are finally coming home. There was a similar sense of incredulity when Greece won the bid to host the games, after several unsuccessful attempts, back in 1997. But unadulterated euphoria was succeeded by resentment over mismanaged resources and dodgy excuses.
Even party-loving Greeks are finding it hard to justify a snowballing budget of around 10 billion for a two-week extravaganza of sports and culture. And with the international media vying in vitriol in their coverage of the approach to the Olympics, Greeks are finding it hard to feel positive about their impact. A mammoth rebranding operation for the nation has turned into a logistical nightmare, which has run the risk of reinforcing negative stereotypes not just in terms of how others see Greece, but also how Greeks see themselves.
The major infrastructure projects the Greek capital needed have been painfully slow to materialise. By the year 2000, things were so far behind schedule that the International Olympic Committee (IOC) threatened to move the Games elsewhere. The prospect of national humiliation convinced the government to take drastic measures: it appointed the formidable Gianna Angelopoulou as head of the Athens 2004 Organising Committee (Athoc). Mrs A a sort of Hellenic Margaret Thatcher with bigger hair, tighter abs, and robotic Greek accent seized the job with the ferocious zeal of the extremely rich and ruthlessly ambitious.
For sheer tenacity, Mrs. A would have given Sisyphus a run for his money. She and her corporate staff of thousands, including many young guns recruited from the Greek diaspora, had to take on a state system bogged down in bureaucracy, a civil service with no sense of collective responsibility, and a national press that careens between jingoism and self-loathing.
At times, Athoc staff must have felt they were running a hurdles race with new obstacles appearing from nowhere. Several construction projects had to be cut back or cancelled. The marathon route was delayed when the contractor went bankrupt, the roof over the swimming stadium was abandoned, and sections of the suburban light railway shelved because of battles with local authorities. The National Archaeological Museum will remain partially closed this summer while renovations continue. The new Acropolis Museum, designed to blackmail Britain into returning the Parthenon marbles, is still a building-site. With a record-breaking injection of both financial and human capital into the country for the Olympics, the Greeks can only blame themselves for failing to deliver on these projects.
Perhaps this explains why in the March 2004 election campaign, the then-ruling (and floundering) Pasok party did not use the Olympics as political leverage. When the conservative New Democracy party won the elections, ending twenty years of socialist rule, many feared that political upheavals in a notoriously nepotistic country would further stall progress just five months before kick-off. Instead, the flabby new prime minister, Costas Karamanlis, appointed himself minister of culture and took personal responsibility for supervising the games. He urged his opponents to unite around this national issue whose success or failure would reflect on all Greeks cannily taking credit for the previous governments work into the bargain.
Despite the palpable urgency to fast-track projects to completion, organisers are nonchalantly claiming that cutting it fine is a national art and politicians have been quick to spin the last-minute scramble as something to be proud of.
In Greece, were like the sirtaki dance we start very slowly, then we speed up. At the end, you cannot even follow how quickly it goes, says Dora Bakoyianni, Athens mayor. The tall, no-nonsense daughter of former prime minister Constantine Mitsotakis, Bakoyianni is one of a new breed of feisty female politicians. The third female contender, and equally determined to steal the limelight from Gianna Angelopoulou, is Fani Palli-Petralia, plastic surgery casualty and deputy minister of culture. She is less media-savvy: Some may say these projects were long overdue. Thats correct. But at least they are getting done now is only one of her embarrassing public statements.
The national conversation has even included Archbishop Christodoulos, who departed from his normal reputation as the medieval mouthpiece of Orthodoxy with an uncharacteristically 21st century soundbite about the Olympics preparations: This is how should I put it...? A Greek bahalo, which is a national trait, but in some miraculous way it produces good results. The nearest English approximation to the untranslatable bahalo is cock-up).
In the name of security
Greece is the smallest nation ever to host an Olympics of this magnitude. When the first modern Olympics were held in Athens in 1896, the city had a population of about 100,000, but the games were tiny too. Now, Greeces chances of reaping rewards from the most expensive PR campaign in its history have also been hit by security concerns surrounding the first post-9/11 Olympics. Although intelligence agencies have consistently denied there is any evidence of a terrorist threat in Athens, relentless scare stories in the international media have kept many foreign spectators away.
In a spectacular show of bad timing, the IOC has taken out a 143 million insurance policy in case the Olympics are cancelled due to war, terrorism, earthquakes or floods. Although the IOC had been negotiating for insurance coverage for years, it doesnt look like a vote of confidence for Greece.
For Greeks, who are traditionally pacifist and pro-Arab yet perfectly used to protestors rampaging through the capital, the threat of a terrorist attack seems remote. Athens is undeniably one of the safest cities in Europe. Yet the land of the Olympic Truce the longest peace treaty in history, and the reason behind the original Olympics is now faced with a security budget of 1 billion euros and counting. This is five times more than the equivalent budget for the Sydney Olympics in 2000, and three times more than Athens initially budgeted for.
The public order minister Giorgos Voulgarakis claims this will turn Greece into a security superpower though what good that will do in the long run is anyones guess. Whether or not the state-of-the-art security systems will be thoroughly tested, given the delays in installing them, is another moot point. The real point is that Greece must be seen to be doing everything humanly possible to deter political crazies from gatecrashing the worlds biggest party.
As Dora Bakoyianni recently pointed out: To put it bluntly, were paying the price for 9/11. But ironically it is home-grown anarchist groups rather than al-Qaida who have posed the biggest security threat so far, detonating small explosives outside police stations and British and American banks to demonstrate their opposition to imperialist Olympic capitalism.
Such incidents, a regular occurrence in Athens, are designed to make headlines rather than cause casualties. Following the conviction last year of nineteen members of the notorious November 17 group, the threat posed by domestic terrorism is minimal. But if a couple of hooligans with a Molotov cocktail can penetrate the worlds most expensive security system, what might trained terrorists do?
The presence of underwater frogmen patrolling the port of Piraeus, Nato warships cruising the Greek islands, 1,400 surveillance cameras planted around Athens (give or take a few that have already been smashed by demonstrators), and a chemical-detecting Zeppelin hovering above the smog-screened capital all have been decried by local activists like the Anti-2004 Campaign as an infringement of civil liberties.
Diehard conspiracy theorists, of whom Greece has an inordinate number, claim the CIA has designed the whole security operation so that American companies can win lucrative defence contracts and the US government can spy on Greece. Extreme pressure by the United States and Israel on the Greek government to bring their own armed security guards to Athens, in violation of the Greek constitution, has further fuelled the anti-Americanism that simmers just below the surface of the Greek psyche. No sheriffs from Texas! and Rambo Go Home! are among the graffiti sprayed on the freshly-painted walls of Olympic venues. Some American tourists who have ventured to Greece this summer have resorted to calling themselves Canadians.
A domestic passion
The Olympics may be billed as a celebration of peaceful cooperation and good sportsmanship, but these games have triggered a volley of politically contentious issues. Right-wing groups are already demanding to know what will happen to the thousands of migrant workers recruited to construct Olympic venues on the cheap.
There has been alarmingly little national outcry about the workers who have died in the process as a result of inadequate safety measures. Officially, the death toll is fourteen; union leaders claim the actual figure is closer to forty. Environmentalists have been vocal opponents of the ecologically damaging consequences of Olympic-related projects, and growing resentment over spiralling costs has prompted trade unionists from ambulance drivers to hotel staff to threaten strikes during the games if their demands for Olympic overtime are not met. With salaries in Greece as low as 500 a month, one can hardly blame them.
Analysts claim the total cost of the Athens Olympics could hit 10 billion, not counting the estimated 20 billion on infrastructure projects like the new airport, metro, ring road and tram. Understandably, Greeks are anxious that they will be paying the price in taxes and inflation for at least fifteen years.
The finance minister, Giorgos Alogoskoufis, did not help to assuage peoples fears when he announced recently that, if Greece were to bid for the Olympics today, I dont think wed be as excited. Arguably, hosting the games are never going to be a money-spinner, but done right they can change global public opinion about the host country, which is a great investment for the future particularly in a country like Greece that depends on tourism.
The Olympics may have put Greece in the global media spotlight, but far from enhancing the countrys reputation abroad the malicious media coverage has compounded all the negative stereotypes. From the (London) Times reporter who deliberately broke into the main Olympic stadium while it was still under construction (prompting the Greek daily Eleftherotypia to run the front-page headline, O tempora, o mores!), to the Australian adverts showing athletes sprinting around construction sites while carpet-chested Greek builders idly munch crisps, a recurring theme has emerged: the world wants Greece to fail. This Schadenfreude has reinforced Greeks own self-image as a nation of underdogs.
The fact that the Greek press not only reproduces but inflates anything written in the international media reflects the extent to which national identity is defined by international perceptions. The number of Greek journalists on the Olympic payroll further discourages impartial coverage at home. Even the first global Olympic Torch Relay, which could have been a powerful source of positive identification for Greeks (Our flame unites the world), has failed to ignite the popular imagination. Perhaps this is because the glossy adverts on CNN, proudly sponsored by Japanese car firms and American soft drinks, bear little connection with Greece.
Greece holds its breath
Greeks long to shrug off the stigma of being Balkan, a hangover from the cold war decades when their country was separated from central Europe by Soviet-bloc states, and to be accepted as fully-fledged Europeans. At the same time, they cling to their ancient heritage because it is the one thing that allows them to feel superior not only to their fellow Europeans, but to the whole world.
This kitsch fixation with Greeks ancient past is often tied in with modern success stories. The Aiolos Kenteris high-speed ferryboat is named after both the god of wind and Greeces 200-metre champion, Costas Kenteris. Ancient Greek chic is very now, thanks to Olympic costume designer Sophia Kokosalaki, whose draped jersey dresses are all the rage.
This is good news for the coiffed Athenian ladies who have had to forsake their stilettos for leather sandals, as the capitals impassable pavements are disembowelled for the fourth time in as many months. After the fibre-optic telecoms cables, the electricity lines, and natural gas pipes, came the blind paths for the Paralympics on 17-28 September. But try following one of these Braille trails and before long you walk smack into a lamppost.
Then there are the posters of the Greek national football team, plastered in every village kafeneion since their unexpected triumph at the European football championship in July: In Ancient Greece there were twelve gods. In modern Greece there are eleven.
Greeces astonishing football scoop provoked a frenzy of excitement nationwide. The streets of every village and city seethed with hundreds of thousands ecstatic fans, from teenage girls to sozzled pensioners honking their horns. The lewd chants (I poutsa tou tsolia einai varia, loosely the national guards dick is heavy) were like a crude settling of national scores at last the Greeks had screwed all those smug bastards who didnt think they could do it.
Sparkly t-shirts stamped with the Greek flag spawned by Sakis Rouvas, Greeces hip-grinding Eurovision hopeful who made third place with his smash hit Shake it became the summers fashion statement. The blue-and-white flag still flutters from cars and balconies, and is sported on belts, scarves, caps, even tattoos.
This turbo-boost of patriotism came at just the right moment to rally popular support for the Olympics. As the final countdown to 13 August begins, Athenians are at last experiencing the positive side-effects. Scaffolding is dismantled to reveal neo-classical mansions, magnificent without their customary coating of grime. Single-lane traffic jams have given way to highways that still reek of melting tar. New parks and pedestrian zones, museums and metro stations, are emerging. Locals do double-takes as they pass ancient monuments, freshly illuminated by French lighting guru Pierre Bideau.
As the pieces of this mind-bogglingly complex operation finally fall into place, Athenians are wondering whether years of disruption and corruption have been worth it. Although they love to moan, Greeks are innately optimistic. Most people are confident that Athens will pull it off. But after seven years of hype, the big event almost feels like an anti-climax. That will surely change the moment the floodlights flash on in Santiago Calatravas Olympic Stadium. When the shot-putters run into the ancient stadium at Olympia, fans line the original Marathon route, and cyclists race around the new pedestrian zone circling the Parthenon, nobody will dispute the magical trademarks of Greece its glorious history, natural beauty, and life-affirming spirit.
But what legacy will the games leave for Greece, beyond national debts and post-natal depression? There are social benefits: the 240 million Olympic Village will provide affordable housing for 10,500 low-income families after the athletes go home. Medical equipment, laptops, mobile phones, beds, and speedboats will be distributed among regional hospitals and schools, tax offices and coastguards. These resources could really improve the infrastructure in state institutions in the underdeveloped provinces.
The Paralympics have generated a major improvement in disabled access (even if the elevator to the Acropolis never materialised and the pavements are wonky). Long before the stunted olive saplings planted just a few weeks ago grow to their full height, Athens will enjoy better public transport and security systems, a rich pool of specially trained personnel, and twenty-seven state-of-the-art sports venues.
Some of these stadiums will be turned into conference centres, or knocked down to make way for urban development; others will stand as reminders of what the nation was for two weeks in August 2004 the centre of attention of the western world. The hope is that they will be used, and not stand as empty temples of an identification with an antique past.
