By Alexis Papachelas

While we thrash about in our stormy teacup, the world around us is undergoing stupendous change. The US government intervened to save Wall Street in a way not seen since the crash of 1929. Giant companies, bastions of the system, have collapsed and no one can predict the outcome of this great crisis that began months ago.

Here, in our little town, we are unable to see ourselves in context.

The citizens are angry, very angry. They are angered by displays of new wealth; they are frightened by the frivolous actions of the people who set economic policy and have wrecked the market’s confidence; they are outraged when they hear Culture Minister Michalis Liapis advocating “harder work;” they do not understand why the state gives away 100 million euros to a monastery when the citizens cannot make ends meet, and so on. And for the first time, citizens are angry with the prime minister, who is trying to put together a difficult puzzle made up of thousands of unrelated pieces, a hostile media environment and the crazy variable of party rebels with or without a cause.

The problem is that there is a great gap between current events and the country’s fundamental problems.

If we wish to be serious, we must face the truth head on. What are the real problems?

Our universities are ruined since, with few exceptions, they are the realm of mediocrity. We have an artificially high standard of living that cannot continue.

Who will tell Greek “farmers” that the days of spending hours in the coffee shop and receiving subsidies are over? Who will dare tell the average Greek that he cannot maintain his standard of living without being adequately competitive in tourism, in industry and in production?

We have a corruption problem that cuts across parties and social groups.

The state’s profligacy has a name and address: the mafias that control things as varied as purchases of blood, pharmaceuticals, Hellenic Railways procurements, Olympic Airlines, public works at local government level, and the likes.

These mafias are uniquely skilled at buying up politicians and unionists. We have a great problem with lawlessness and with the inability to impose the law. We see this from the cars parked with impunity on central Academias Avenue to the lack of cash registers at gas stations and the privileged treatment accorded to media barons.

The tragic thing is that now that Prime Minister Costas Karamanlis has decided to deal with these issues, he finds himself up against the mistakes and sins of the past five years. It is obvious that he is racing to make up for lost time. He succeeded in selling the harbors, partly succeeded in reforming the social welfare system and managed to get something done in education. Now he is trying to do to Olympic and the state railways company something he should have done in 2004. In the health system, he is trying to clear up the mess left by former minister Nikitas Kaklamanis. On the economy, he will try to do things that can only be dared after the next elections, not before.

The unfortunate thing is that the people are not paying attention, because they are angry and facing their own difficulties. The ruling party “rebels” turn Parliament and the news bulletins into a madhouse every day. One part of public opinion has swung to the left, and though the opposition PASOK party wants to express the hopes of those who have lost hope, it would have no idea what to do if it is elected.

There is the danger of a prolonged lack of government. In other words, our country is suffering a nervous breakdown because we know that the Vatopedi Monastery case, MP Petros Tatoulis’s rebellious outbursts and so on, are just a storm in our little sea when we know that a tsunami of uncertainty and greater challenges is coming. But our ship has neither compass nor ballast.