There is something deeply sad—and at the same time politically comic—in the spectacle of certain people in power changing their face, vocabulary, and political sensibilities depending on the audience in front of them .
About a year ago, we saw them passing through the doors of the New Democracy headquarters in Piraeus for the infamous information meetings regarding the bill on same-sex marriage .
It was not just any legislative initiative. It was a choice that caused a deep rift with a significant part of the traditional base of ND , brought the government into open confrontation with the Church and forced many MPs to take a position on an issue that touched on beliefs, consciences and values.
And then something revelatory happened.
The otherwise hyperactive members of parliament on social media did not seem particularly enthusiastic.
Where was TikTok?
Where were the joke reels?
Where were the smiling selfies?
Where were the cute videos with bubbles popping on the screen?
Where was that irresistible need to share every minute of their political activity with the people?
Suddenly, political influencers discovered discretion.
And there was a reason.
Because they knew very well that a significant portion of the people they sent to Parliament did not agree with them .
They knew that back in their constituencies there were people who had voted for New Democracy for decades, with a specific perception of the political and social physiognomy of the party. Conservative people, people of the Church, family heads, voters who historically associated the Right with a triptych that—whether they liked it or not—marked a part of the Greek conservative tradition for decades:
Homeland – Religion – Family.
Greece is of course changing, society is evolving and every citizen has the right to agree or disagree with these perceptions. But what no one can ask of the voter is to forget what you told them yesterday because today the party line has changed .
This is exactly where the problem lies.
It’s not that some MPs changed their minds. People are entitled to change their minds.
The problem is changing political identity when the authorities demand it and then returning to your constituency pretending that nothing happened.
To vote in Parliament according to the party’s new ideological identity and, a few months later, to appear in the front row of a litany to have your photo taken next to the Metropolitan.
Hurry to the village fair.
To claim first place in the temple.
Wait for the presenter to announce you.
Shaking hands with priests.
To worship the image in front of the cameras.
And, of course, there should be a photographer .
Because without a photo, how exactly will the constituency know that you attended church?
This is perhaps the most tragicomic aspect of modern political communication.
Faith becomes content.
The procession becomes a photographic backdrop.
The festival becomes an election booth.
The temple becomes a space for political networking.
And the first row is transformed into a unique VIP lounge of local political life .
You see the same images all over Greece in the summer. Members of Parliament, ministers, politicians, regional governors and mayors crowding the front seats. Some appear so systematically at major religious events that one could believe they spent the entire summer following the ecclesiastical calendar…
We saw them…lifting icons! They almost dressed up as “papadakia” to take the…incense sticks, the candles and the…six-armored lamps!
When you systematically use religious tradition as a backdrop for public display, you cannot simultaneously demand that citizens not examine the consistency between the image you project and the political choices you make .
You can’t just want the traditional voter on the Sunday of the festival.
You can’t remember the Church when there is a litany and treat it as an annoying remnant when it disagrees with a government choice.
You can’t want the conservative vote without his values, the photo with the priest without listening to his objections, and the first place in the church without the political cost of consistency .
This is not a political composition.
It is electoral opportunism .
And what is even more striking is that for some, party discipline seems to be taking on an almost existential character.
When the leadership decides something, suddenly arguments are discovered that didn’t exist until yesterday. The vocabulary changes. Priorities change. Even “timeless” beliefs change.
Ideology becomes plasticine.
It is enough that only one value remains unshakable:
the chair.
Because that’s where the real comedy begins.
How many are willing to actually clash with their leadership when they know that a position may open up in the next reshuffle?
How many will risk a ministerial appointment?
How many will say a clear “no” when they know they might lose Maximus’ favor?
How many will prefer their political conscience to a photo next to the prime minister?
That’s where politicians are separated from courtiers.
The politician has an opinion even when it is annoying.
The courtier has an opinion until the phone rings.
The politician knows that he will someday leave power.
The courtier behaves as if there is no life outside of her.
The politician can tell his leader “you are wrong.”
The courtier first asks himself what the leader wants to hear and then forms his opinion.
And that’s how we get to the really serious issue.
It’s not just about same-sex marriage. Everyone is entitled to their own position on it.
It concerns the question of whether parliamentarians still represent people and ideas or whether they have become a mechanism for ratifying the decisions of the executive branch .
Because it would be interesting to see the same mobilization that existed for a crucial social bill also exist for national issues .
MPs should request information about Turkey.
Demand explanations for the “calm waters”.
To discuss the Cyprus problem, the Aegean, Turkish claims, Thrace, the Eastern Mediterranean.
To ask.
To doubt.
To demand answers.
To clash, if necessary.
But there, the tutoring seems to be redundant.
Maybe because these courses are more difficult.
They are not solved with communication instructions.
They don’t fit into a sixty-second TikTok.
And above all, they demand something that is not taught in any party seminar:
political stature.
New Democracy has historically been a great party precisely because it was not an army of uniformed cadres. It had personalities. It had different schools of thought. It had conflicts. It had people who said “no” even when it came at a cost.
If this culture is replaced by a courtyard in which everyone competes to see who will clap the loudest, who will be closest to the shot, and who will demonstrate greater personal devotion to the leader , then New Democracy does not simply change.
It’s getting smaller.
Because a large party needs leaders.
The court needs courtiers.
And there is a huge difference between the two.
Therefore, the next summer festival also has its usefulness.
We will see them again.
In the first rows.
With the formal suit.
With his gaze sometimes focused on the image and sometimes — discreetly — on the camera lens.
And the next day, the necessary photo will be uploaded with a few words about “our faith, our traditions, and the values of our country.”
Only citizens now have an annoying flaw:
they remember.
They remember what you said.
They remember what you voted for.
They remember when you spoke.
And, most importantly, they remember when you were silent .
That’s why we don’t need more politicians in the top positions of the churches.
We need more politicians who can stand their ground .
Because ultimately, loyalty is not proven with a photo from the litany and political dignity is not measured by how close you managed to stand to the prime minister .
It is measured when the difficult moment comes.
When you have to choose between what you believe in and what is in your best interest.
And then there’s no TikTok, selfie, or first place that can hide your choice.
There is the anger of the betrayed people of the faction. And the anger of the people is the voice of God!
Hieromnimon