Yesterday another shocking death, that of journalist Sokratis Giolas, broke on an unsuspecting public. Mr. Giolas was executed outside his home by at least two people, apparently wearing bulletproof vests and police uniforms. At least 16 cartridges were found at the scene: he was finished off with three shots to the head.
Giolas’ death adds to the increasing list of meaningless deaths suffered as a result of political violence or terrorism so far this year (and there are probably more incidents not on this list):
· On March 29th, a 15-year old Afghan immigrant was killed by a bomb outside the offices of the Hellenic Management Association. The boy was rooting through garbage for food or items to trade—his mother and sister were injured in the attack.
· On May 5th, three employees of Marfin Bank, one a pregnant mother, were killed in a Molotov bomb attach on their branch at
· On June 24th, a letter bomb exploded in the offices of the Ministry of Citizens Protection, killing a 50-year old police officer.
The international press have carried the story widely. In parallel, a furor has sprung up on the blogosphere and social media as to why this particular journalist would have been the target of a terrorist organisation known as the “Sect of Revolutionaries”, or whether this was some form of political assassination. Mr. Giolas is reported to have been a founder/ contributor of the troktiko blog, which carried a range of stories, some sensationalist, some not, on corruption and conspiracies in
I have no opinion to express here of Mr. Giolas or his reporting. I can only hesitate to think what could have been so terribly secret that he would have been assassinated: after all, there are great crimes occurring in
in broad daylight. Greece
But beyond any kind of attempt to rationalise the event, as I’ve been trying to do since yesterday, there is simply a feeling of emptiness and sorrow. Sorrow that
has come to this. And emptiness, because it seems the only way one can inure oneself from the downward spiral that has become an everyday reality is to ignore it. Greece
More and more, life in
is resembling something from a Don Dellilo novel I read a long time ago, The Names. In this case, I suppose that nothing has really changed. For anyone who has not read it, I strongly recommend it. Greece