Column

The riots began the moment we landed in Athens. Oh well, I assured a conference colleague, you can't expect to bring people from South Asia and Africa and not have riots. By the time we left a week later, the riots had spread to a dozen cities in Greece, caused damage of more than 200 million Euros, had brought the government to its knees, ignited violent protests of solidarity in France, Spain, Italy, Portugal, Germany, England, Denmark and Russia and was being referred to as the biggest social uprising in peacetime Greece.

This was clearly not the regular riots that speckle Greece, the birthplace of democracy. Where a tradition of student protest and leftist dissent merges with a tradition of anarchism. Add to it the customary crowd of mindless hooligans that add bounce and body to any riot and you have marauding mobs representing democratic dissent.

Triggered by a policeman's shooting of a 15-year-old schoolboy, provoked by 'anarchists', the riots fed on enormous social discontent. Mounting resentment over the conservative government's economic policies, anger over inadequate social welfare, unemployment, deteriorating healthcare, privatisation of education, low salaries, higher taxes and revised pension rules brought hundreds to the streets. Economic growth in the new millennium had raised expectations of prosperity, which were shattered by the recession. To top it all, the government was rocked by scandals, from corruption to sex tapes.

The rage simmering within erupted when the boy was shot. Outraged youngsters, students, anarchists and leftists took to the streets protesting the 'murder'. Rioters burst into a national television station and interrupted footage of the Prime Minister's speech, brandishing banners saying, 'Stop watching, get out onto the streets!' Riot police fought protesters with teargas and water-cannons outside parliament and the police headquarters. The centre of Athens, the seat of administration, became a battle zone.

Outside this ring of fire, life goes on as usual. But when you step inside, expecting to see wild arsonists and vandals, you see instead teenagers with ash-smeared faces chanting slogans, raising fists in the air, keeping pace with older, veteran protestors taunting passive policemen in gas masks, helmets and riot shields. It's more a battle of nerves than of muscle. "Murderers in uniform!" scream the protestors. The police just stare back.

Often there is a lot of stone-pelting. Sometime they throw Molotov cocktails. And when they run out of rocks, they throw oranges. Beautiful orange trees heavy with fruit dot the streets of Athens. And in the city centre stood a giant Christmas tree, three stories high, all decked up for Christmas, that was burnt to cinders by the protestors.

The conservative government did not respond to the opposition Socialist party's demand for mid-term elections. Neither did the police prevent rioters from torching cars, attacking banks, smashing up shops, offices, hotels, restaurants and cafes. For Greece saw much police brutality during the military rule (1967-74). It triggered the student movement which snowballed into a mass uprising that overthrew the junta. So even today, Greek police are afraid to flex their muscle against student protestors, and are banned from university premises. So campuses are a safe haven for anarchists and hooligans. But the reticence of the police adds to the distress of the common people. They want security as much as jobs and social welfare.

The rest of Europe may soon face the same wrath, for they also have citizens seething with discontent exacerbated by the recession. And in India, also hit by recession, long-term discontent and the failure of social security have already bred rebels, like the Maoists, everywhere. Looking beyond the dramatic threat of terrorism to also address more endemic problems may be a good idea. For unlike in Greece, in our riots we do not just damage property, we leave a trail of blood.

The writer is Editor, The Little Magazine. Email: sen@littlemag.com