Denial: tastes great, and less filling!

I realize that the governments of most countries in the world are old hat at the art of denial. I also realize that for some people, denial is the only way you can survive without wanting to plunge your head into a fresh, steaming cow pie. But what kind of jackass do you have to be to put your need for denial above the need of an entire nation to memorialize their dead?

Turkey has their panties in a wad yet again over the memorial to the Pontic Greeks that was recently erected here in Thessaloniki. The Pontic Greeks were from a region in Turkey near the Black Sea, and their people were systematically slaughtered by the Turks during World War I. Hundreds of thousands of people were killed in these slaughters, which should rightfully be called a genocide but the Turks don’t seem to have a word for genocide in their lexicon (Armenia, anyone?). I perfectly understand that it is better for the Turkish government to ignore events like this and pretend they never happened. I can think of several moments in my life that I wish had never happened, mostly involving copious amounts of Long Island Iced Tea and projectile vomiting. But denial isn’t really healthy for the psyche, so I’ve learned how to live with my shame and get beyond it.

The response of the Turkish Prime Minister to the memorial was something along the lines of how the issue is a very sensitive one in Turkey. Golly gee whiz! No one would want to do harm to Turkish sensibilities! But did ya ever consider it might be a bit of a sensitive subject in Greece too? The Turkish Foreign Minister Abdullah Gul (also known as George Clooney’s brother), went so far as to say that the erection of the monument “cast a shadow over friendly relations between the two countries.” Say what? Again, I have to say what kind of asshole objects to a memorial for hundreds of thousands of dead?

I live here in Thessaloniki, and I can’t say that there was much fanfare surrounding the erection of this monument. In fact, my husband and I were having coffee at a place near it a few days ago and I asked him if he knew what the statue was for. He didn’t. It is a very tasteful statue, full of emotion and feeling – a woman grieving. For all we guessed it was a symbolic representation of the city, the country, who knew? Of course, we could have gone over and looked at what it was for, but it didn’t really matter. At any rate, it isn’t like they have big neon signs and a giant searchlight over this memorial and a big booming voice on a loudspeaker saying “this is a memorial for hundreds of thousands of Greeks who were killed by Turks – yes I said Turks! It was genocide by Turks!”. In fact, most people in Thessaloniki probably wouldn’t have known what the statue was for until the Turkish Prime Minister brought it up. Way to draw attention to something you want to forget about, Mr. Erdogan.

In the end, the issue isn’t really about who killed these people. They could have died to the Turks, an angry flock of zombie bunnies, or Martians, it wouldn’t really matter. The Greeks wanted to memorialize them (and rightly so) and they did. To object to a memorial, on any grounds, might have to be the lowest of the low. After all, the truth hurts all of us, not just the Turks.