-But for the Germans, the Greeks would be living on olives and black bread and the Irish on potatoes
CONFUCIUS said, “When prosperity comes, do not use it all.”
A European country that lost two world wars in the 20th century has now, after only the first decade of the 21st, won the peace. Where military might failed twice, industry and accumulated wealth have made them Europe’s leading nation.
Without the acquiescence of the Deutsche Bundesbank, Greece would not have been bailed out and our brother Greeks would be living on a daily diet of black bread and a handful of olives, the Irish on potatoes, the Portuguese on vino verde and the Spanish on paella without those succulent cuts of chicken or king prawns.
Wunderbar, und vielen Dank liebe Frau Merkel!
Where would Europe be without the Germans? We should hail them as our saviours. We should, out of gratitude and respect, learn to speak their language. Had they won the last war we, here in Cyprus, would be tri-lingual, Greek, Turkish and German – English, like Hittite, despatched to our long and colourful historical dustbin.
Yet today’s Germans do not insist their language be the first spoken in Brussels. They are not hung up about it like the French are about theirs.
That said, this piece is not about language, it’s about sovereignty. Have not the Greeks forever lost theirs? Who really rules Greece today, the Greeks or the Bundesbank?
My mother (God rest her soul gently) refused to be photographed, convinced that an indescribable part of her spirit would be stolen by the camera. Others suffer similarly when borrowing money, suspecting they’ve given the lender control over their very being itself. Repayment doesn’t bear thinking about. And if they can’t repay, they borrow more for Peter to pay Paul. And just where does that eventually lead the debtor if not into the mouth of the tiger?
Today’s tigers no longer wear jackboots and black shirts but bespoke suits and hand crafted shoes. They are chauffeur driven everywhere, bodyguards galore. They attend endless G-something meetings, and like emperors, are inaccessible behind invisible silk curtains draped by a both deceived and deceptive media. “Perhaps Ireland needs help – Ireland might need help – Ireland will hold talks with the ECB – Ireland must accept help!” And so it goes on, day in day out as it did with Greece until she finally submitted, bankrupting her soul, her spirit, never to rise again as an independent and proud nation.
We are witnessing the end of an era, the end of nations – the end of national identities. Europe is becoming one nation indirectly ruled by the richest and most efficient among us. Germany has got the money and a streamlined administration, and our identities are being trafficked in exchange for a piece of cheese with that black bread and handful of olives. Where the gun failed, hard work, efficiency and frugal management of prosperity have succeeded.
Those EU economies neck high in debt and grossly overmanned by civil and public servants will follow in Greece’s path – for example – when my wife and I visited the Engomi District Office to apply for her Voting Book, she was given a form to fill in and get stamped by our mukhtar. When I told the clerk that our mukhtar had died over two years ago, he gave me the name and telephone number of the new one, yet was unable to furnish me with the address.
I rang the number and was told that the office was next door to a periptero just after the fruitaria near a health club. Office hours were from 4 to 7.00pm Monday and Wednesday and Saturday from 8.00am to midday.
We passed by at 6.30pm on Wednesday. It was closed. I rang on the following Saturday. The mukhtar was there. We hurried to his office, a shell of a disused shop; large bare room, two chairs and a small, elderly man sat behind a utility desk. He stamped the form and told us to deliver it to the District Officer then call back in a couple of months to collect the Voting Book from his hand only. The following Monday we returned to the District Office. The clerk sent us upstairs to be interviewed by an official, her office situated at the end of the corridor. Which end, there must be two? The clerk sniggered and told us to turn right at the head of the stairs.
The official asked several pointless questions then requested a utility bill. Fortunately, my wife possessed her bank statement – all utility bills are in my name. The official stamped the form and sent us back down to the clerk, who led us to the cashier’s office, where my wife was issued with a receipt in exchange for the completed and twice stamped form – no charge. She was told to ring our mukhtar at the end of January, when the voting book would be in his possession, only.
The carbon footprint of this episode is immeasurable. Is there no easier way of applying for and receiving a Voting Book, the clerk at the District Office in possession of my wife’s Cypriot passport, ID and address at the time of our initial enquiry? Applying for one is a legal and statutory requirement, even though many of today’s younger generation neither bother to apply or vote. Can we blame them?
From tiny acorns do mighty oaks grow, and from pointless bureaucracy do economies collapse. Be not afraid of growing slowly; be afraid only of standing still – danach, um unsere Br?der Deutsch willkommen!
The population of Ireland is less than half that of Greece and their bail out requirement amounts to nearly the same, 85 billion euros, that’s €18,888 recurring per head of the population.
Tanks a billion and top o de mornin’ to yers!
