“The government and the opposition start from two opposing points of departure only to arrive at the same mistake. Those in government present the state of the economy as much better than it is. And their opponents as much worse. Yet, in this way, no one in the political system is describing reality.” The observation comes from someone in a sector that is often associated with all the ills of high prices.
Alongside pointing out the distortions of reality, he urges us to “let the numbers speak.” A dance of millions in turnover, operating expenses, servicing bank loans, increases in costs that are passed on to final products, and the highest VAT in Europe “so that nothing is left at the end.” The figures for the sector have spoken. Just as they speak, on the scale of tens of euros, in a supermarket bag: the majority of households live in a parallel yet unchanged reality — “nothing is left at the end.”
Another ending says that “in the end, even Bulgaria will overtake us.” The Balkans, as part of former Eastern Europe, are our psychological limit. The era when our purchasing power in the region was measured in American jeans sewn in Kalamata, and a pair of pants was sufficient as a medium of exchange to buy off every form of Balkan deprivation, has long since passed. Today, we measure ourselves in euros. And we are losing.
But this is only one record of reality. For the full picture, one must add the upgrades by credit-rating agencies, a growth rate that is anything but a laggard in Europe, early repayments of the loans incurred during the bankruptcy, funds attracted by the idea of a City of Athens, cheaper borrowing costs even than those of Europe’s strongest economies, and fiscal discipline.
Taken together, all of these, depending on the level of enthusiasm, are described in the international media as the “Greek success story” or the “Greek miracle.”
Is it?
Although clumsily put, the MP for Pieria is not entirely wrong when he says that there are many cars out there. Some people get around, some consume, some try deconstructed dishes at restaurants without depriving their children of an education, some own property and have the means to acquire more newly built homes. Whether perfectly legal and above board or black and undeclared, some people, at any rate, live comfortably or very comfortably.
If we let the numbers speak once again, these people account for 30% of the population. But a society of one-third does not constitute social prosperity. Public money is circulating and individual wealth is accumulating, but none of this translates into social wealth.
The miracle is for the few. The gap is widening and is so obvious that you do not need to pull back the sheet to see it. The few can afford a market where prices reach “€5,000 per square meter.” And the many live with the anxiety of finding housing.
This creates a peculiar condition of social psychology. An underground current of great resignation among the many who refuse to respond to businesses’ demand for labor. But also another current of discontent and disappointment among the few for whom the place in which they prosper “is not a normal country.”
No one knows how these two currents will find political expression. Who will remain within the political system, who will be driven to the extremes to express their protest or simply their contempt, and how many will abstain from elections.
Miracles are not written on tablets or in the genes of a nation, even if it was born with the idea of a “God of Greece.” They say that a miracle lasts three days. A miracle for the few probably lasts even less.
