Thermopylae

I will admit to being surprised.

I had always called that this union would fall, perhaps violently, perhaps in a velvet revolution, either way the euro would fall and this construct of those machine men, those ideologues, those golems and unmen who think but do not dream and can only paint in grey, would fall to pieces.

With the crises in Ukraine I had despaired, for it seemed, (and it still seems) that Europe's end would come from a foolish war with a resurgent Russia at the behest of these europhilic non-men and their Americanist overlords.

Yet for all of that and for all of the crises and talks and debates, it would be believed the Greeks, that irascible people of Hellas, would cave like so many others have before the paper tiger of Brussels. That they would accept the bailout on the terms of accepting more debt they could not pay in return for reward of bearing the slave collar and the wicked kiss of the lash.

I will admit, I am today, humbled and ashamed, because for the longest time I have thought ill of the Greek people. Low was my opinion and regard for them, lower still when they elected a popularist, leftist politician to rule themselves, for all his talks of anti-austerity, I thought nothing more of him than I ought of any politician, and thus did I sneer and thumb my nose.

I now stand astonished.

For the Greek people have proven, more than their riots and fury ever could, that they have mettle in them still. The past two days have been a whirlwind: the collapsed talks, the surprise referendum for the will of the people, that bane of the Eurocrats, the refusal of last minute concessions by international creditors as too little too late, the closing of the banks, the tumbling down of the markets. For all this may cost me, personally, in thousands of euros (I have savings in the Republic from when I worked there), I can only salute them and watch in envy as the Greek did what no other European did; they stood and defied the world. They in this shining moment, were a nation, a flawed nation, a nation with divisions, but still a nation of colour and character, a nation of red blood, that somewhere down there, for all my cynical judgements, there is a spark of principle. There is the beating heart of man still in the Greek

I only pray they do not sell it now at this, the eleventh hour, despite whatever may come. My God, its really happening.