Inside the Maximos Palace , but also in a part of the old party apparatus of New Democracy, the nervousness surrounding Antonis Samaras is now difficult to hide. Even people who once identified themselves as Karamanlikos and today appear as ardent supporters of Kyriakos Mitsotakis — as is often the case with those who feel most secure close to the power in power — are watching every move, every statement and every silence of the former prime minister.
And there is a political irony in all this: Samaras has not yet announced a party .
But perhaps this is precisely what causes the greatest concern.
Because you can measure a party that exists . You look at its polls, you calculate its electoral influence, you identify where it draws its voters from, you map its cadres and you organize your political defense.
A party that might be born is a different matter.
It is not easily measured. It fuels expectations, creates scenarios, causes movements before it even appears and, most importantly, forces its political opponents to deal with it on a daily basis without there being a specific opponent facing them yet .
Antonis Samaras seems to understand very well the importance of political time. He is not in a hurry. He does not open his cards. He does not allow others to determine the timing of his decisions.
And it is precisely this waiting that produces a political effect.
He lets others talk about him. To comment on him. To warn him. To attempt to discredit him. To calculate potential losses. To discuss which MPs or voters might follow him.
In other words, his opponents are doing some of the political work on his behalf.
And herein lies the great paradox for today’s New Democracy.
The more he deals with Samaras, the more he turns him into a political event.
Instead of the public debate revolving exclusively around the government agenda, the economy, accuracy, salaries, pensions, and everyday problems, one question keeps coming up:
“Will Samaras form a party?”
Except that’s the easy question.
The difficult thing is something else:
Why is there political space for such a party today?
Who created this space?
Why does a section of New Democracy’s traditional electoral base feel that it is no longer expressed by the party’s current physiognomy ?
Why do people who for decades considered ND their political home today appear willing to listen to a different proposal to its right?
These questions do not primarily concern Samaras. They concern New Democracy and its leadership.
Because political discontent is not created by someone deciding to express it. It pre-exists. It accumulates. It waits. And when it reaches a critical point, it seeks a political outlet.
So let’s not kid ourselves.
New Democracy is not in danger because Samaras is strong. It is in danger to the extent that a part of its own base feels politically orphaned.
And when voters start looking for another political home, the problem doesn’t necessarily lie with the one who opens a new door. It lies primarily with the one who made them feel like strangers in their old home .
Herein lies the great strategic mistake of the constant attacks on the former prime minister.
Any attack aimed at weakening him may ultimately achieve the opposite: bring him back to the center of the political debate .
Every statement against him provokes new publications. Every warning generates new scenarios. Every attempt to discredit him raises the reasonable question: if he is not a political threat, why are they so concerned with him?
And thus begins the real “martyrdom of the drop” .
Not a major political conflict. Not a spectacular announcement. But small, continuous doses of political uncertainty .
A statement today. An intervention tomorrow. A meeting the day after tomorrow. A publication. A poll. A new rumor.
Drop by drop.
And as long as there is no final decision, the question remains open and the pressure builds.
But behind Samaras’ face there is a much bigger issue: the very political identity of New Democracy .
The historical strength of the party has been its ability to house different tendencies of the Center-Right and the Right under a common political roof. Liberals, social conservatives, patriotic Right, Karamanliks, Samaritans and center-right voters.
Her strength was composition .
But if a significant portion of this historical base begins to feel that the party has moved so far that it no longer expresses it, then a vacuum is inevitably created.
And sooner or later, someone fills the political gaps .
That’s why perhaps the wait causes more concern than an announcement.
The announcement is a moment. The wait is an entire political process.
In the waiting, expectations are created, reactions are tested, moods are recorded, personal strategies are rearranged and, most importantly, political shifts mature that may have already taken place before the new party appears at the ballot box .
And ultimately, perhaps this is what should concern Maximos Palace the most.
It is not Samaras who created the discontent among the New Democracy base.
If he decides to move forward, he can simply attempt to express it.
The crucial question for the government is therefore not “what will Samaras do?” .
It is:
“What did we do to make so many of our voters wait to see what Samaras will do?”
Therein lies the real political danger.
Because the big rifts don’t arise the day a new party is announced . They have formed much earlier, within society and within the electorate itself.
The announcement simply makes them visible.
And when they become visible, it is often already too late to close them.
The “martyrdom of the drop”, therefore, continues.
And the question is not only whether and when Antonis Samaras will make his final decision.
The real question is how full the glass will be by the time that moment comes .
GEORGE TH. AGRAFIOTIS
