From Nea Ionia to Auschwitz A Personal Account of anti-Semitism in Greece By Andrew Leech Prologue Many might well ask why a Christian Greek would want to write such a story titled From Nea Ionia to Auschwitz. It could easily be interpreted as anti-Hellenic. Yet, there is the rub, for if a true Greek, who honestly believes in the tradition and inheritance of his race, ignores such things happening ? albeit rarely ? in his own country, can he consider himself heir to the past? He may remember Leonidas and choose to ignore Ephialtes; but he cannot put aside the gift of democracy and right to speak one?s mind. This is all the more pertinent, here, as many Greeks actively and successfully opposed the machinations of Eichmann and were honoured for their stand against anti-Semitism. It is my feeling that we must not ignore injustices to others, inasmuch as we must fight injustices against ourselves. I am proud of my Greek heritage and ashamed when fellow Greeks dishonour it. That is why I wrote the article, which I must stress is, unfortunately, a true story ? I know Sarah, personally. Any inheritance is only as good as the heirs make it. Greeks have their virtues and their faults, like any race; but if we are to be true to those principles we honour, we must educate those few among us who bring them into disrepute. True strength comes from knowing who and what we are and accepting that, while not perfect, we always strive for improvement. If we ignored such a story as Sarah?s, it would be to the shame and dishonour of those who are proud of their heritage and, incidentally, provide a real weapon for those who are anti-Hellenic. Would Socrates have ignored it? Sarah?s tale My name is Sarah. I am Jewish and Greek. Until today I knew that there was some anti-Semitism, but always believed it due to there being only 5,000 of us scattered around the country; and not many Greeks knowingly having much contact with Jews, or understanding our religion and customs. In essence, the only difference between Christians and Jews, here, is religion. Both are proud of their Greek nationality and both have fought and died for Greece in its many wars. Just the other day, someone mentioned that most Greeks blame the Jews for the war in Yugoslavia. I thought this ridiculous and laughed it off lightly ? until now. Very recently, on the train to work, a middle-aged man sat opposite me. Untidily dressed, he had a child?s exercise book on his lap and a mobile phone. As the train left, he dialled a number. ?Hello, yes. Of course, the bloody Jews are to blame for all this. I wish Hitler could be reborn and wipe them all out. Making soap of them is too good for that race. They are the dregs of the earth, they need destroying. All they care for is money.? Inwardly seething, but outwardly polite, I told him this conversation should be conducted in the privacy of the home, not publicly. He rang off, faced me with a gloating look, and asked if I was ?one of them.? I nodded. Then, with a look of extreme hatred, he began spewing out insult after personal insult; explaining in minute and graphic detail how the greatest satisfaction of his life would be to see us all exterminated; and how it should be done. ?You should be ashamed to even admit you are a Jew,? he screamed. People looked at me in utter astonishment. Maybe they had never met a Jew in their lives. Now, realizing that, far from being a caricature of Shakespeare?s Shylock, I was just another human being like themselves, they were dumbfounded. An oldish man boarded next. Hearing the conversation, he told my aggressor that ?even though most people agreed the Jews were to blame for what was happening in the world, he should not abuse me personally.? This was a new tactic: polite disagreement with the abuse, but agreement with the accusation. By now cacophony reigned, and the carriage filled with a variety of superficially differing opinions, but all basically in common consensus that ?the Jews were the culprits for the word?s problems. They were behind Clinton, they were to blame for the war in Kosovo. One maintained they were even responsible for the Cyprus situation! ?Are you Christians,? I asked? ?Of course,? they replied in one voice. ?Then by what right do you judge the Jews,? I enquired, going on to quote the New Testament: ?do not judge lest you be judged in turn.? Some women, mainly elderly, screamed: ?you killed Jesus Christ,? repeating the phrase incessantly, as if to ward off some unmentionable plague. ?Jesus was born a Jew and died a Jew.? I pointed out. ?The church was formed later ? not by him, personally.? Insults came thick and fast. One elderly woman jabbed her finger at my left eye, as if to gouge it out. ?YOU will get what you deserve,? she threatened ominously. Others just spat at my feet. At this point, I burst into hysterical laughter; the whole situation reminded me of what I had read, and been told of, the pre-war period when Jewish persecution was just starting. ?Is this a dream, or really happening?? I asked myself! Then, inwardly realising I was provoking the situation, but with a stubborn streak of wanting to see it through to the end, I challenged back. I wanted to see how deep this anti-Semitism lay; to gauge, somehow, my future as a Jew in Greece. I asked the self-proclaimed Nazi whether he knew Hitler had killed not only Jews, but also Orthodox Greeks; but by now he was too drunk on venom to even hear, much less answer, and just kept raving in a dull monotone. ?Do you feel the same way about blacks, homosexuals and gypsies? Do you want to exterminate them as well?? He looked totally blank and I realized he didn?t have the slightest inkling of the underpinnings of his philosophy. Obviously, he had little knowledge and even less education. A quiet voice cut through the hubbub: ?You shouldn?t say these things about the Jews. I know the Old Testament. This lady is right.? There was actually one SANE person on this train. He was in his late twenties, soft spoken and seemed very gentle and sensitive. If he had lived earlier, he would have died in a concentration camp alongside me! Another man then commented: ?I understand how much the Jews have suffered, but what they are now doing is sinful?. The insults were now becoming low, monotonous, cliche and soporific and nobody could reply with a single intelligent answer. Suddenly, I looked out of window and saw the station entrance looming up like the gloomy, menacing oft-pictured gate of Auschwitz. I got up, walked passed the silent stares and down onto the platform where the delayed shock hit me. My body trembled, I wanted to cry - but couldn?t - and felt a physical chill in the air, despite the sun?s warmth. This was my first experience of anti-semitism in Greece and I felt I had been beaten. Yet, these were the same race as the people I had been living with for the last 22 years; kind friends, concerned neighbours and fellow Greeks. ?Could there be so many differences between them?? I asked myself, as I walked towards the dark uniformed official directing people into two lines for the exit.
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