The joys of uninhabitable islands

Two hundred years ago last March, the Greeks rose up against the hated Turks who had occupied most of the mainland for 400 years and, with the help of Britain, France and Russia, drove the infidels back to where they had come from. The war ended with the London Protocol of 1830, which recognised the creation of the independent nation-state called Greece. Hellas, as we call her, became the first independent nation in the Balkans and the first to break away from the Ottoman Empire. The Society of Friends, which had been founded in 1814 outside Greece and included members of my family, had established the groundwork for the uprising. The seed was the American Revolution, followed by the French one. Greece chose to bind herself with free countries, especially Britain, although Germany became the country Greek elites went to study.

Two hundred years later and the American progenitors of freedom are viewed by the elite as criminals, their statues brought down, their names besmirched, their sacrifices ridiculed. The British are not far behind in committing historical seppuku, with Soviet-style denunciations being the core of wokeism. Forgetting for a moment the falsehoods peddled by woke creeps, it’s their moral certitude and absence of self-doubt that is so outrageous. Mind you, although I haven’t exactly conducted a poll, I don’t think there is a single Patmian, local or visiting, who believes that the modern conception of freedom means men in drag should be reading to children about the joys of being trans.

Never mind. The Ancient Greeks understood very well that people are only free when one man rules, not when many rule, as did the British and later the Americans.