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Showing posts with label Eleni Calligas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eleni Calligas. Show all posts

Friday, 22 January 2016

'Κορακιανίτες και Ένωση'



I've just seen an intriguing post on the website of Ano Korakiana quoting the current Mayor of Corfu, John Kourkoulas, throwing light on a puzzle presented near the time Linda and I first arrived in Corfu in December 2007. Knowing how much the matter interested me, Thanassis Spingos, artist and author of the village website, and Kostas Apergis, Ano Korakiana's historian posted the following letter:
Dear Simon. It is said that before the Union of the Ionian Islands with Greece (1864), inhabitants of Ano Korakiana signed a 'paper' asking the British Government to keep the islands under Britain ... We have been looking for this paper for years at the Greek archives without result. We wonder if you can help us by searching this paper in British archives (Parliament, Colonies archives, Foreign Office etc). We are sure that one of the names that signed the paper is Panos, Panayiotis or Panagiotis Metallinos (Μετταλινος). He was the 'leader'. A similar paper has been signed by inhabitants of Kinopiastes (another village in Corfu) and one village in Zakynthos island...
Discussing village history on the balcony

I searched in the British National Archives.  Fascinating; with many insights on the period of British Protectorate of the Ionian Islands, Ἡνωμένον Κράτος τῶν Ἰονίων Νήσων (1815-1864), but I found no trace of that 'paper'.
Searching the Ionian Protectorate archives at Kew

I knew that, until only the last few years, the philharmonia bands of Kinopiastes and Ano Korakiana did not go into the city to play and march at the annual enosis celebrations every 26th May. I have heard, in the village, that it was not that Ano Korakianas and others in Corfu and throughout the Ionian Islands (the Heptanisi*) wanted to stay under British Protection. While many did support enosis with Mother Greece, there were a significant number of radicals - rizopastis - who did not want the islands to be 'transferred' to Greece and the notoriously corrupt seat of national government in Athens. They wanted an Independent Ionian Republic, Επτάνησος Πολιτεία - like the brief Septinsular State that lasted seven years from 1800. They resented the almost casual, pragmatic way the British washed their hands of their Protectorate and more or less handed the islands over to Greece as a bargaining pawn, knowing that Athens was an easier focus of British interest than the volatile Ionians when it came to pursuing British interests in the Eastern Mediterranean.

See...the words of the Ionian rizopasti Ilias Zervos, contemplating the consequences for the seven islands - the Septinsular Republic as might have been - embracing enosis with a Greece governed from Athens....Zervos’ of Cephalonia believed Britain's power over lonian affairs did not decrease with the end of the Ionian Protectorate in 1864, instead the islands became ‘a Pandora's Box’ for British influence on Hellenic politics [Eleni Calligas (1994), Rizospastai' (Radical-Unionists): politics and nationalism in the British Protectorate of the Ionian Islands, 1815-1964, A9m British Library Shelfmark DX187456 Ph.D., London, London School of Economics, 44-9204. p.300]. Zervos found himself opposing his radicalism to that of Zante's Constantinos Lombardos with his popular and nationalistic triumphing enosis with 'Mother Greece'. Instead of ‘freedom’, Athens had given Corfu and her sisters:
...the pollutant of political corruption, which has brought this miserable nation to its present deterioration and produced as many unscrupulous exploiters as a decaying corpse produces worms.
Eleni Calligas on p.301 of her thesis, quoting from Elia Zervos’ autobiography Βιογραθία Ηλία Ζερβού Ιαχωβάτου Συντεθείσα παρ αυτού (1880) edited by Ch. S. Theodoratos, Athens 1974
Ano Korakiana's village lawyer,  John Kourkoulas, Mayor of Corfu, since the 2014 elections, has been assembling an album of historical notes, including press cuttings, which he's shared with friends in the village. It includes an account of the much debated subject of the reaction of the village to the ending of the British Protectorate of the Ionian Islands and union - enosis - with Greece in 1864...
'Κορακιανίτες και Ένωση' Korakiana and Union 22.01.16              
Ο χωριανός μας δικηγόρος Γιάννης Κούρκουλος, π. Δήμαρχος Κερκυραίων, εδώ και αρκετούς μήνες «συνθέτει» σε περιορισμένο αριθμό και διανέμει σε γνωστούς και φίλους ένα ολιγοσέλιδο «αυτοσχέδιο» έντυπο που περιέχει δικές του σημειώσεις και απόψεις, καθώς και αποκόματα εφημερίδων με ευρέως ενδιαφέροντος θέματα της επικαιρότητας, αλλά και της ιστορίας. Έχοντας τη χαρά να είμαστε ανάμεσα στους αποδέκτες αυτού του υλικού, αντλήσαμε από την πρόσφατη έκδοση μία αναφορά στο πολυσυζητημένο και συνάμα ενδιαφέρον θέμα που αφορά στην «Κορακιάνα και την Ένωση με την Ελλάδα».
«Κορακιανίτες και η Ένωση» είναι ο τίτλος του σχετικού έρθρου στο οποίο ο Γιάννη Κούρκουλος αναφέρει τα εξής:
"Βρήκα επιτέλους ένα δημοσίευμα που είχα διαβάσει πριν από 34 χρόνια, το οποίο είχε χαθεί μέσα στο αχανές προσωπικό μου αρχείο. Πρόκειται για ένα κείμενο του μακαρίτη δημοσιογράφου και ιστορικού Κώστα Δαφνή δημοσιευμένο στα φύλλα της 8ης και 15ης Μαρτίου 1971 της εφημερίδας του «Κερκυραϊκά Νέα», με τίτλο «Ο Γλάδστων, οι Κοινοπιάτες και η Κορακιάνα». Και παρά το ότι έχω αποφασίσει να σταματήσω τη σύνταξη χειρογράφων (μετ’ αποκομμάτων εφημερίδων) φυλλαδίων, δεν μπορώ να το στερήσω από όσους από τους φίλους και γνωστούς μου έκαμαν την τιμή να διαβάσουν το τελευταίο μου φυλλάδιο. Πολύ περισσότερο, που το κείμενο αυτό αποτελεί συνέχεια των όσων εκθέτω για το ίδιο θέμα.
Γράφει λοιπόν ο Κώστας Δαφνής:
«Ακόμη και σήμερα η λαϊκή παράδοση θέλει ότι οι Κορακιανίτες και οι Κοινοπιαστινοί δεν ψήφισαν υπέρ της Ενώσεως της Επτανήσου με την Ελλάδα... Κατά πόσον η παράδοση αυτή στηρίζεται σε πραγματικά γεγονότα δεν θα το ερευνήσουμε σήμερα. Άλλη αιτία, σχετική βέβαια μας οδηγεί στο ίδιο θέμα. Τοποθετείται 5 χρόνια πριν από την Ένωση και έχει σχέση με την αποστολή του Γλάδστωνος στα Επτάνησα. Βρισκόμαστε στα τέλη του 1958 (SB note: 1858?), ο άγγλος απεσταλμένος περιοδεύει στα νησιά και στην κερκυραϊκή ύπαιθρο για να σχηματίσει άμεση αντίληψη για τις πραγματικές διαθέσεις του λαού και να σφυγμομετρήσει το λαϊκό φρόνημα. Μεταξύ άλλων επισκέπτεται τους Κοινοπιάστες και την Κορακιάνα. Για την πρώτη επίσκεψη γράφει σχετικά η εφημερίδα «ΝΕΑ ΕΠΟΧΗ» της 13ης Ιανουαρίου 1859 με την περιγραφή της επισκέψεως στους Κοινοπιάστες, όπου και εμφανίζεται ότι οι Κοινοπιαστινοί σε ερώτηση του Γλάδστωνος «τι θέλουσι: μεταρρύθμισιν ή ένωσιν», απάντησαν «μεταρρύθμιση», γεγονός που προφανώς τον ευχαρίστησε.
Συνεχίζοντας ο Κ. Δαφνής αναφέρει ότι «τα σημειώματα αυτά (της εφημερίδας) δεν έμειναν χωρίς απάντηση, αφού  στο επόμενο φύλλο της, η «ΝΕΑ ΕΠΟΧΗ» δημοσιεύει τα εξής:
 «Ελάβομεν επιστολήν υπό του Προεστώτος του χωρίου Σταυρού κ. Αντωνίου Ραρή, δι ής καταψεύδει λόσα δια του Παραρτήματος είπομεν. Ελάβομεν ετέραν επιστολήν υπό του κ. Χ.Γ. Εμμανουήλ Πουλημένου και άλλων προς κατάψευσιν όσων εν τω παραρτήματι είπομεν περό Κυνοπιαστών. Άπαντα ταύτα θέλομεν καταχωρίση προσεχώς»
Και πραγματικά στο φύλλο 49/2-2-1859 δημοσιεύονταν η απάντησις. Τη μεταγράφομεν ολόκληρη:
«Κυνοπιάστες, τη 21η Ιανουαρίου 1859: Υπό των υποφαινομένων κατοίκων του χω­ρίου Κυνοπιάστες, παρακαλείσθε να καταχώρισητε εις το φύλλον σας τα ακόλουθα: Δια του παραρτήματος ύπ’ άριθ. 46 της εφημερίδος, τινές εις ημάς άγνωστοι, επρόσβαλαν και ημάς και τον κ. Γλάδστωνα, ότι ερχόμενος εις το χωρίον μας του επαρρησιάσθησαν πολλοί των κατοίκων και ότι ο κ. Γλάδστων μας ηρώτησεν τί θέλομεν, μεταρρύθμισιν ή ένωσιν; και ότι ημείς τω απηντήσαμεν μεταρρύθμισιν και εις την απόκρισιν ταύτην ευχαριστήθη τα μέγιστα και ότι ο υπασπιστής του έγραψεν εις Κυνοπιάστες (και όχι Κυνοπιάστρες) θέλουν μεταρρύθμισιν και ότι έδωκεν εις δια­φόρους από ολίγα χρήματα και ανεχώρησε, και άλλα όπου αν δώσωμε την απάντησιν αμαυρόνωμεν τον εαυτόν μας. Ούτε μία αλήθεια εγγράφθη περί του αντικειμένου και ημείς στοχαζόμεθα τα αυτά άτομα ως ανόητα, κηρύττοντα ουχί ως φυσικά τέκνα των Ελλήνων, αλλά ως αφύσικα και συκοφάντας. Η δε αλήθεια έχει ούτω: «Την ημέραν των Χριστουγέννων, τας τέσσαρας ώρας μ.μ. εξερχόμενοι πολλοί εκ του ιερού μετά τον εσπερινόν, έφθασε με την άμαξαν και ο κ. Γλάδστων εις την πλατείαν της πρωτευούσης της ιδίας Εκκλησί­ας, και ευθύς εισήλθεν εντός της Εκκλησίας, με την συνοδίαν του και θεωρήσας με περιέργειαν εφιλοδώρησε τον εφημέριον και τον υπηρέτην. Ημείς, χάριν περιεργείας, ερωτήσαμεν τον αμαξηλάτη, τις είναι; και είπεν, ο κ. Γλάδστων... Ευθύς όλοι όσοι παρευρέθησαν παρόντες (διότι οι κάτοικοι του χωρίου αριθμούν έως οκτακόσιοι και ουχί τριάκοντα), τω επεδώσαμεν τον πρεπούμενον χαιρετισμόν και τον συνωδεύσαμεν μέχρι των οσπητίων της κληρονομίας κ. Βιλέτα, όπου θεωρήσας την θέσιν, πολύ ευχαριστήθη. Ακολούθως, πάλιν ήλθαμεν εις την Εκκλησί­αν, όπου είχαν διάφορα γλυκά, (κατά την συνήθειαν της ημέρας), εκ των οποίων έλαβεν ο κ. Γλάδστων και έδωκε πολλών παιδιών εκεί ευρεθέντων, επλήρωσε και κατόπιν αμοιβαίων χαιρετισμών ανεχώρησε... ΄Οχι μόνον όπου ούτε ωμιλήσαμεν δι’ όλου διά ένωσιν ή μεταρρύθμισιν! άλλα ούτε το είχομεν κατά νουν! Εκ του άλλου ημείς είμεθα απόγονοι των Ελλήνων και το επιθυμούμεν πολύ περισσότερον από κάποιους όπου πλαστά λέγουν, θέλουν την ένωσιν... Πλην κατά το παρόν, ο άνθρωπος πρέπει να συμμορφώνεται με τον ορθόν λόγον καί όχι με λόγους ατάκτους και ο­πού δεν έχουν ισχύν» Τέλος ημείς εφέρθημεν εις τον κ. Γλάδστωνα με εξευμενισμόν, τον ευχαριστούμεν δια τον εδώ ερχομόν του και θέλει τω αποδώσωμεν προσωπικώς εν τω δωματίω, όπου κατοικεί, τας ευχαριστήσεις μας καθ’ ο εντιμοτάτω υποκειμένω».
Ταύτα και υποσημειούμεθα I. π. Γεωργίου Χριστόδουλος I. Έμμανουήλ Πουλημένος
Τη δημοσίευση της επιστολής η εφημερίς συνώδευσε με την εξής υποσημείωση: «Συγχαιρόμεθα τους κυρίους τούτους και το χωρίον Κυνοπιάστες και επειδή ημείς δεν έχομεν σκοπόν ουδένα να προσβάλλωμεν, δημοσιεύομεν ευχαρίστως την δήλωσιν των κυρίων τούτων»....
Συνεχίζοντας ο Κ. Δαφνής αναφέρει ότι, ακολούθως, στο φύλλο 51 της 13ης Φεβρ. 1859 (της ΝΕΑΣ ΕΠΟΧΗΣ) βλέπουμε να δημοσιεύεται επιστολή του «εκ Κορακιάνας συνδρομητού» Σταυράκη Μεταλληνού του Σπυρίδωνος, στην όποια ο επιστολογράφος εξιστορεί με λεπτομέρειες τα της συναντήσεώς του με τον Γλάδστωνα, όταν επεσκέφθη το χωριό του και τα όσα ελέχθησαν μεταξύ των. Ο Σταυράκης Μεταλληνός διερμή­νευσε με παρρησία στον ΄Αγγλο απεσταλμένο τα παράπονα των κατοίκων εναντίον της Προστασίας, για να επαναλάβη στο τέλος ότι αίτημα των κατοίκων ήταν η ΄Ενωσις με την Ελλάδα. «Ημείς, είπεν ο Μεταλληνός, είμεθα ΄Ελληνες και Χριστιανοί Όρθόδοξοι, τουτέστιν έχομεν κοινά με τους δούλους και ελευθέρους αδελφούς μας κατά την καταγωγήν και την γλώσσαν και την θρησκείαν, και ως εκ τούτου έπιθυμούμεν να ενωθώμεν με το ΄Εθνος μας. Το εθνικόν τούτο αίσθημά μας καμμία δύναμις δεν δύναται να το εκριζώση εκ της καρδίας μας». Και, έκλεισε την επιστολήν του ο Σταυράκης Μεταλληνός: «Ταύτα είναι, κ. Συντάκτα, τα διατρέξαντα εν Κορακιάνα, τα όποια και σας παρακαλώ να δημοσιεύ­σετε όσον τάχιστα όπως καταψευσθή πας ος τα εναντίον διατεινόμενος και σπερμολογών».
Από όλα αυτά, (αναρωτιέται ο Κ. Δαφνής) τί συνάγεται; Τό απλό συμπέρασμα ότι η ύλη της ιστορίας δεν προσφέρεται πάντοτε καθαρή και αποτοξινωμένη από τα πάθη και τις προσωπικές συχνά αντιθέσεις της στιγμής. Και ότι χρειάζεται μεγάλη προσπά­θεια στον ιστορικό για να ξεκαθαρίση το ιστορικώς αληθινό από τα επιστρώματα, που το έχουν αλλοιώσει".
ΓΙΑΝΝΗΣ ΚΟΥΡΚΟΥΛΟΣ
* The Heptanisis or the Ionian Islands are an archipelago of different-sized islands. The largest are Zakynthos or Zante, Corfu, Ithaca, Kephalonia, Lefkada, Corfu, Paxos and, far further south, Kythera; the smaller ones, Antipaxos, Anti-Kythera, the Strofades archipelago, and the Diapontian isles of Erikoussa, Mathraki, Othoni, and Meganisi. 

We may never be sure about this matter. It is obviously a sensitive issue - with the imputation, quite unfair, that these villages were somehow less patriotic than the rest of Corfu. It circumvents the powerful story captured in her thesis, by the scholar Eleni Calligas, of the rival visions of those two Ionian politicians - the rizopasti Ilias Zervos lakovatos (1814-1894) with his hope for an independent Ionian Republic, and the populist Constantinos Lombardos (1820-1888) who pursued union with Greece. I would like to see the primary source evidence surrounding the imputation that the reasons the Philharmonia's of these two villages - Ano Korakiana and Kinopiastes - did not, for more than a century since 1864, attend the celebrations of enosis with Mother Greece - was no more than a matter of speculation and scuttlebutt «...τα εναντίον διατεινόμενος και σπερμολογών».
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A letter from The Gunmakers Arms, Gun Quarter, Birmingham City centre
Hi Simon. I am interested in potentially booking you as a speaker. Could you give me some more information on the Birmingham-related talks you have please.
We are planning to host a series of science-based talks in addition to a series of talks based around an historical theme at our pub, the Gunmakers Arms. We have a loose theme of topics including anything related to Birmingham, alcohol (and related industries) and sport. If you or any of your colleagues could deliver talks which would be suitable please let me know.
The speakers we have lined up so far are listed below.
Regards
Darren, Office Manager
Historical Talk Series. Kay Hunter – ‘The Last Public Hanging in Birmingham’, Tuesday 26th JanuaryRuth Cherrington, Club Historians – ‘The Social History of Working Men’s Clubs’, Thursday 18th FebruaryDr Malcolm Dick, University of Birmingham – ‘The Industrial Enlightenment and the Luner Men in the 18th Century’, Wednesday 30th March Professor David Williams, Loughborough University – ‘The Early Days of the Birmingham Gun Quarter, Tuesday 17th May 0121 439 7253 Two Towers Brewery, Unit 1 Mott Street Industrial Estate, Hockley B19 3HE

Dear Darren
Interesting to hear from you, and so glad to see The Gunmakers back in business.
You enquire about my ‘colleagues'. As a local speaker I’m a one-man band. I talk only about the 'Founding of Handsworth Park' towards the end of the 19th century, based on the research for my story of our local park -  I have film, texts, maps, postcards and photographs to illustrate a talk that can be between 20 minutes and an hour, with space for discussion and questions. I charge £30, but if there’s a favourite local charity at The Gunmakers I encourage my hosts to have a collection to pass on themselves. You can buy me a choice of Baskerville Bitter and Hockley Gold (:))
As a founder member of the Friends of Handsworth Park in 1994 I was among a small group lobbying to save Handsworth Park, helping organise a campaign which finally brought about a ceremonial re-opening in Summer 2006, I contributed to Birmingham City Council’s winning £9,000,000 lottery grant that funded the park's restoration during the early years of this century.
I’ve lived with my family in Handsworth, 300 yards from the Park’s main gate, for forty years. I was a lecturer at Birmingham University’s School of Public Policy between 1973 and 2010. I am Hon.Sec of a local charity ‘Handsworth Helping Hands’ (find us on Facebook).
To support the winning lottery bid to restore Handsworth Park I wrote a history of the founding of the Park. First paragraph:
"As the civic gospel of municipal improvement spread from Birmingham into the estates of Handsworth, its local government leaders saw a public park as a benefit for the district. Following the setting up of an education board and a free library, the adoption and proper kerbing of roads, street lighting, tramways and the construction of sewers,influential voices in the district began to speak of the need for a “lung” in the city. They did not pursue the idea simply out of expediency or to raise the value of their properties. Such self-interest was present - used unashamedly to strengthen their case among the practically minded citizens of Handsworth - but opposition to the Park from that quarter was at times so intense that calculative motives alone would not have carried the project through.” p.1, Baddeley, S (1997) The Founding of Handsworth Park 1882-1898, Birmingham University
I tell the story of how our local park was founded, despite opposition from rurally minded people, who could not imagine how the Staffordshire countryside would in a few decades become a suburb of the great working city, its populace grateful for the foresight that saved a few fields to create a public park - now just 2.1 miles from the Gunmakers Arms, or 15 minutes on my bicycle. The idea of a park in Handsworth was also opposed by people who didn’t want ‘the roughs of Birmingham’, as they saw them, ‘despoiling' the attractive suburb to which they’d escaped from the city in whose industrial quarters they were making their money. Here’s me talking about my enthusiasm for the park a few years ago

If I can answer any more questions do get in touch.
I tend to be in and out of the UK for just under half the year but I’m easy enough on to contact and would be delighted to speak on my favourite subject.
Kindest regards
Simon
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It was the best of years, it was the worst of years - 
Richard Pine, The Irish Times, 26th Jan 2016
It was (to paraphrase Dickens) the best of years, it was the worst of years. On January 25th last year Greeks elected their first ever left-wing (as distinct from socialist) government. This, Syriza, led by Alexis Tsipras, was both A Good Thing and Not Quite Such A Good Thing. Dickens continues the opening of A Tale of Two Cities by pairing wisdom/foolishness, belief/incredulity, light/darkness and hope/despair. In the past year Greeks have had all of these in excess. The jubilation at the (apparent) rejection of the bailout in the July referendum, followed by the realisation that nothing, but nothing, had changed, underlined how fragile and fickle the democratic process can be...
...And the past year has emphasised that there are two Greeces. Not the us-and- them, have-and-have not division, but the underlying causes that are, apparently, indelible. On one side the cancerous corruption favouring the oligarchs and plutocrats, and on the other what Myles na gCopaleen would have called “the Plain People of Greece” who just want to get on with their lives.
The corrupt state is the result of decades of Plain People innocently, blindly and stupidly trusting politicians, and one year of well-meaning but naive policies cannot undo that corruption. Former finance minister Yanis Varoufakis said (in Kilkenny, interviewed by RTÉ’s Miriam O’Callaghan): “The oligarchs were completely untouched by the troika”. And he said Syriza’s surrender to the troika “makes them absolutely incapable of effecting change”...
...The past year has been wake-up time for everyone. The international financial community is waking up to the fact that for so long it denied that the Greek debt could be restructured; it’s now admitting that the austerity programme was a textbook remedy for an as yet undiagnosed problem which they didn’t understand.
The EU negotiators are beginning to admit that most of the figures bandied about are in fact illusory and that most of the negotiations have been a cosmetic job to obscure the fact that neither side has any faith in the figures.
Tsipras is waking up to realise that, in order to stay in power, he has to rely on big business, which is represented in his cabinet by ministers who, like some of the county councillors named in the recent RTÉ Investigates programme, had “overlooked” their declaration of interests and understated their assets.
Greeks would have watched the RTÉ programme and said “So what? What’s new? What’s there to shout about?” Clientelism and bribery are so endemic that these blips would never have got air time in Greece, not least because most media are controlled by the plutocrats....As journalist Nick Malkoutzis says, Greeks are “torn between love for their country and hate for what it has become”. Throughout my book Greece Through Irish Eyes (SB note: my review of RP's book) I emphasised the need to both love and mourn Greece: to recognise that within everything lovable there is also something to mourn, and vice versa. I mourn the events and circumstances that created the past year of triumphs and defeats.
But I love what I see in the village where I live: the way parents cherish their children and want to give them the best chance in life. I love the sight of truckloads of olives going to the oilery at the end of the village street; the way I can barter fruit for eggs with my neighbour. And I love it that a retired telephone engineer will fix my phone when it’s struck by lightning, and refuse any payment, saying, “Give me a copy of your book instead. It’ll be valuable when you’re dead.” 

Thursday, 28 April 2011

A skull in the well

Having made a general slander against the signorini as a universally oppressive class I had to go back to the best living expert – to my knowledge – on the social history of the Ionian polity, Dr Eleni Calligas who’s 1994 Phd. Is called The ‘Rizospastai’ (Radical-Unionists): Politics and nationalism in the British Protectorate of the lonian Islands,1815-1864. More than any other scholar I know, she draws on the widest range of primary sources from this period in Greece, Britain and, of course, the Ionian islands - sources in Greek, English and Italian. Her English prose is immaculate, her scholarship impeccable.
No-one wanting to study the modern politics of Corfu, or any of the other Ionian islands, can claim to be properly informed without either digesting her sources or ensuring themselves a thorough study of her thesis, which, wonderfully, is now available free on-line from the British Library as a PDF file, allowing detailed searches of Calligas' text. It may be necessary to join the Library to access this and get a reader number, but that's a process with which I once struggled, so great was the demand for on-line access, but which can now be carried out fairly easily on-line. (see also: 'Constructing Ionian Identities: The Ionian Islands in British Official Discourses; 1815-1864', Maria Paschalidi, University College:London 2009)
I had an email a week ago from Ann Arbor, from someone researching his Ionian ancestry; in particular his connection with Dimitrios Nikolaou Karousos, a signorini from Cephalonia, who received the office of the last Lord High Commissioner, Sir Henry Storks at the end of the British Ionian Protectorate on 21 May 1864.  Along with other information about sources he might like to pursue, I’d recommended Dr Calligas:
Dear Simon. Thank you for all the great information. I will contact Dr. Eleni Calligas after Easter. I just downloaded her thesis using a link on your blog.  I will send you an update when I discover my connection to the aristocrats or the radicals. Regardless of the outcome, I am enjoying learning about the history of the Ionian Islands.  I hope you and your family have a wonderful Easter. Thank you, Brent
My derogation of the signorini as a class, doesn’t stand up. There are too few pixels in my sketch of a bunch of exploitative villains. Calligas' scholarly winnowing records how it was via certain members of the signorini, not only younger family members infected by European radicalism following studies in Italy and beyond, that dangerous ideas of liberty, justice and union with Greece diffused to the island peasantry, many of whom joined a range of secret clubs set up by educated radicals. They organized subversive public ceremonies shrewdly mingled with traditional celebrations, making them frustratingly difficult for the ruling authorities – British and their supporters -  to control or suppress. So the songs, poems and tracts of radical-unionism spread through the islands, vexing the government. Calligas documents the who, when and where of this and other rebellious activity over the first half of the 19th century in fascinating and, I suspect, unprecedented detail.
Nonetheless stories of signorini despotism pass through generations. As well as her story of the Robin pie, our friend Lula told us over supper last year that her father had taken her, as a girl, to visit the remains of an old Venetian estate. He showed her a large dry well.
“I could see something round down there. I kept looking, trying to make it out”
“A skull” her father said
“Then I could see there were other bones down there” She told us how it had been a valued right of signorini to give asylum to people on the run from the authorities or a family feud. A man would come to the lord to seek his help. The signori would invite him to sit in a big chair opposite him and explain his situation. Then, to the petitioner’s gratitude, he would assure him of protection in return for a fee. Once obtained, perhaps a large proportion of a man’s possessions collected by himself and family, he would hand this to the signori. Hands would be shaken across the table, and at the touch of a lever, the man’s chair would tip, dropping him in the well. Family members asking after him would be reassured by the signori that their relative had been given support to cross the narrow sea to live in secure obscurity on the mainland. They would be warned of the risks of trying to communicate with them. When after a long time he had still not returned nor sent any news, it could be explained that he must have encountered a fatal mishap while in exile.
*** *** ***
An old noble house with Corfu shutters
There are few windows in Corfu without shutters  παραθυρόφυλλο – to protect window frames against the weather and provide security – and match the style of other houses. Furthermore so many of these are louvered, with so familiar an arrangement of small angled slats,that one could be excused for assuming that these are the norm for all shutters. Most new or renovated buildings have their louvered shutters made of metal, constructed to order, often to match standard metal window frames also made in factories outside Corfu, the familiar green - though sometimes white or brown or even blue - applied by hot dip at the time of manufacture. Some modern shutters are now moulded with LDF (low density fibre), colour in the original mix, making wood look even more out of date. Such external furnishings can sometimes be detected by a uniformity that exceeds the regularity of skilled joinery, though unless touched they are, certainly, at a distance indistinguishable from wooden shutters.
All metal shutters
Even wooden shutters have become more uniform with the advent of powered routers and larger scale manufacture, easing the complicated challenge of making and inserting the louver (or louvre) slats. They’re normally in pairs. One set of wood shutters on our house – four hinged and folding louvered doors folding back on either side of the window, contains 120 slats in eight apertures. Imagine making, finishing and painting these, let alone stripping them to repair and renew them, and you understand why people opt for modern metal shutters, made and delivered to order. They are very strong, look nice and endure with minimal maintenance. We, being inclined to wood, were still not looking forward to renovating our wooden shutters. Our remaining  wooden framed windows have shutters that are flaking, and faded with bleached shrinking, even decaying, wood.
A set of our wooden shutters
Other windows have been replaced by the previous owners with metal double-glazed ones, so robust they survive the heat of the summer and the wind and rain of winter without needing shutters. We found the shutters for their wooden predecessors stored, in sorry state, in the apothiki.
Despite the logic of modernity we’d prefer to stay with wood, a preference strengthened before Easter by watching Lefteris, next door, mending his louvered shutters and replacing others with ones that had none. He made them from tongue-and-groove deal in front of his house, removing the strap hinges, right-angled to avoid the louvers on their predecessors, and transferring the door length horizontal bolts from his old ones.
Lefteris' made his new shutters in time for Easter
He told us that these were traditional Corfu shutters. They are simply double doors over the windows, like some shutters we’ve seen on old English houses.
“Those” he said, pointing to louvered shutters over the road “are Italian "and these” - pointing to shutters which had a vertical wooden bar attached to all the slats, allowing them, to be swivelled - στρεπτή - from inside the house to adjust the amount of light allowed in - “are Venetian.”
Wandering along Democracy Street I began noticing the different types, having missed such detail before. Of course grand houses on the Liston and across town, though not on some churches, have the Italian and and Venetian type...“But not in the village” said Lefteri. Yes! he said it in Greek and I understood.
I saw from looking at pictures of some of the Noble houses in the countryside or villages from the book Cinty’s lent us, how attractive were some of these unlouvered shutters.
Corfu shutters on Democracy Street, Ano Korakiana
As we laboured stripping a set of our ‘Italian’ shutters, Lin said, “Why not have the other kind? The Corfu ones. They can hang on hinges in the wall outside the window, and need no frame."
“I do like the inset ones” I said. We contemplated the time we’d spent making the inset shutters on the little window downstairs
“Small window. Much work?”
“Let’s hang Corfu shutters outside the windows” she suggested
This seemed to make sense. It seemed not too difficult to make whole new shutters like those Lefteris had just made, until the matter of pintle bolts and strap hinges for them arose. Where could we find the traditional hinges – the male pintle driven into the wall, the female, a band of iron that sits on it? M suggested we might recover some from an abandoned ruin - somewhere. 
Also, we don't want to discard our existing wooden louvered shutters, already inset in our windows or sitting in the apothiki, ready to fit over our new metal windows. There’s just one window, to our bedroom, that actually needs a new frame, and one for our sitting room. The rest are already in place – if in parlous state. 
"Why not" said Lin "fill in the slatted sections of these with rectangles of 4mm plywood?"
"Hm! We could cut a neatly angled groove along the edge of each section – 16 per set of shutters for one window -  fit them firmly in place on each side of the shutter with glue and small nails, prime, undercoat, paint and rehang."
“We’ll have traditional Corfu inset shutters with a sealed cavity containing the slats adding insulation from heat and cold” 
“That I had the sense to marry you!” I cried. 
We drove to Simoneti on the Lefkimmi Road where they cut us 27 strips to the right width from a sheet of 4mm plywood, leaving two tiny off-cuts from a standard sheet, enough for 54 insets – the lot for €17 with €6 for the cutting. 
“You know this is beginning to look like enough insets to turn three sets of Italian shutters into Corfiot ones.” said Lin setting to at dusk
** ** **
To supper this evening at Vitamins at Nisaki with Aleko Damaskinos to check with him some of this material, on shutters and signorini.

Monday, 6 July 2009

Monday morning

An email this morning from Clive Birch, Chairman of BDAC:

Simon, Intention is still to open this year - proposed time is during national allotments week in August. Clive

That's 10-16 August this year. So we're back on the road - with the usual caution. I phoned Rachel to pass on Clive's message to her and others.
* * * With help I've been pointed to where I can get my hands on Eleni Calligas' thesis - at the Institute of Historical Research. I shall visit on my way to the National Archives on Thursday - at least to start reading. As for the search for the village petition to the High Commission asking the English not to leave, a document which may or may not exist, I may have another source in Maria Paschalidi researching the construction of colonial identities 'the Ionian islands in British imagination 1815-1864'. There's even a hint she might have seen the 'paper' that Kostas and Thanassis have asked me to try and find.
* * *
In another dimension my imagination is being fermented by an exchange on Flickr about Execution Island. I'm led into the pitiable space of Civil War, Occupation and fratricide, the stone years and moral ambiguity around the naming of Democracy Street. Her moniker is Kerkira. She writes English like a native and poses sensitive questions, tells me more about things that happened - how Miki Theodorakis visits the island every year, to remember his brother who was killed there.
Did you hear, my Constantine, what the little birds are saying?
They are little birds and let them sing, they are little birds and let them say.
And a little further on their way other little birds are telling them:
“Isn’t pity and unfair, very strange,
the alive to walk along with the dead?”!
-Did you hear, my Constantine, what the little birds are saying?
That the alive walk along with the dead....

Wednesday, 17 June 2009

Registering at the British Library

An enjoyable 'picture' in the British Library
On my way between Milton Keynes on Monday and Westminster for a planning meeting about an in-house seminar in Cumbria I dropped into the British Library in Euston Road. It's a lot busier than the National Archives and did not strike me as so immediately welcoming. There was no obvious sign pointing to lifts, nor to locker rooms or loos. In short the signage leaves something to be desired, but getting my Reader's Card was straightforward. Details typed into a screen in the card issue room, a number called, and a friendly three minute process with a photo printed on a plastic card. My difficulties began as I tried to get hold of Eleni Calligas' thesis on-line.
I'd tapped into the on-line catalogue and found my reference, but as soon as I clicked the download button - titled 'Get it' - I was logged out. The WiFi system - called RegenerateIT - and the library catalogue didn't seem connected.
I sought a reading room help desk; found one of several, but was sent to the basement by a security guard at the portal, just feet from a help desk, to divest myself of my bag and bike. He was quite right of course, but I was already starting to act outside the precise reasoning necessary to ease the navigation of a large bureaucracy. [I enjoyed this Corfiot version from AFTONMOSTV and the subsequent Hellenic TV commentary Part one and Part two] Two separate lifts were needed to get to the basement. Back at the help desk it became rather clear that the librarian, not computer literate, was unable to explain complications I'd encountered ordering the Calligas thesis. "Why not get a hard copy?" "But it says I can have it downloaded" "Use one of our terminals" said the librarian pointing a little tartly to a bank of screens. "But I want the PDF on my computer." At this point she turned away to talk to the next person at the counter." I persevered. "Excuse me....sorry... excuse me. But can you tell me how ..." "It could take thirty days," "Thirty days! But why does my screen say 'Get it' and refer to a PDF download?" I suddenly wondered if I was talking aggressively to someone who felt their job diminished, even threatened, by spreading digitization; or was it me? Was she fatigued by a daily queue of readers whinging about the technology. I retreated, but my exasperation must have been apparent. Security had an eye on me. Another librarian beckoned me to a different desk. "You have to go through a system called EThOS, it's new. It's overloaded." "Thanks so much!" A wave of relief flooded me. I wasn't going crazy. Then my mobile, set on loud, went off.
Being stuck tightly at the very bottom of my top pocket it took twenty slow and frantic seconds grappling inside my jacket to turn it off. A security guard appeared at my side and asked for my reader's card "because your mobile went off in the library reading room." Helpless, all too aware of my own disdain for people who can't control their mobiles, I gave it to him, sweating with embarrassment, but unclear what would have happened if my phone was set on silent vibration. I waited for the guard to return with the harakiri kit, but my librarian smiled indulgently, "Don't worry. It won't be on your record. He has to check." I could have kissed her. "Yes yes of course. It's so tricky. The fine line between access and security. It's not easy, it's..." She smiled indulgently. In a minute I had my card back and retreated to the street, cycling south through the calming bustle of Euston Road, down Whitehall, past Parliament.
As the Prime Minister announced to the House that Sir John Chilcot would lead an enquiry into the invasion of Iraq, Brian Haw, just across the road, reminded the passing world of the loathsome things we did when we and our allies began this war. In his ninth year of protest. Haw is now the only protestor allowed - after complex legal procedures that were begun to stop him doing just that - to use a loud hailer this close to Parliament. He's a sturdy pawn used by sober functionaries in legal corridors to maintain some small reminder, in a very public place, of the gore with which we've been covered. I did protest; I even marched. I sat where Colmore Road crosses New Street on the evening of 19 March 2003 and spoke angrily and pompously into a police camera in the days before invasion - announcing my name and address and occupation. I wrote letters. I supported Phil Shiner's continuing legal actions, signing petitions to bring Blair to the Hague as a war criminal. I know of no-one in my small circle who doesn't agree with Brian Haw. He won't stop irritating people who want to get on with their lives.
* * *
Teacherdude: This reads like a scene from Brazil. Surreal. Have you thought about looking at stamps from the period and area you are studying? Like coins from ancient times stamps give a snap shot of the political realities of that time.
Me: There's a bank note museum in Corfu Town which sounded a bit unexciting. Now of a sudden I'm keen to go visit, and I'll start looking out for coins and stamps. Efharisto poli teacherdude
By seven in the evening it was getting wet
* * * Iason Athanasiades reporting from Iran for the Washington Post - 17 June 2009

Thursday, 28 May 2009

Reading through the Ionian Protectorate archives

The Ottoman Empire, Rumelia and the Septinsular Republic
The human geography is confusing. Rumelia, Djezair, Wallachia, Anatolia, Cyrenaica? Names of places keep shifting, appearing in different versions, different languages. From secondary sources - mainly the web - I know that over four centuries the Venetians ruled Corfu and the six other Ionian islands - Corfu especially on the front-line between Imperial Ottoman Islam and Christian Europe - then for two years at the end of the 18th century, the islands, taken from Venice as part of Napoleon's rearrangement of Europe, became the French Departements Mer-Égée, Ithaque et Corcyre. Revolutionary jubilation suffused the population as the privileges of the island's Venetian aristocracy were abolished, but taxation of Corfiots and ill-discipline among the French soldiery soured relations.
Just before Christmas 1798 Admiral Ushakov with a joint Russian-Ottoman fleet besieged the garrison at Corfu. Despite extra fortifications, the French surrendered in March 1799. In 1800 the seven islands were declared the Septinsular Republic, a tributary state of Sultan Mahmud II - the closest the Turks ever got to ruling Corfu, though the new Republic was in effect a Russian Protectorate, supported by a population of fellow Orthodox Christians - the period during which the Corfiot noble, Count Ioannis Kapodistrias, who, twenty five years later, would become president of the new republic of Greece, gained his first experience of government.
In 1807, under the Treaty of Tilsit, the French re-annexed the Ionian Islands placing them under the governorate of General Cæsar Berthier. A year later the wider European conflict brought the British soldier John Oswald to the Mediterranean, in charge of a brigade harrying the coast of French-occupied Italy and, then, in 1809 leading a force to invade the Ionian Islands capturing Zante, Ithaka, Cerigo and Cephalonia, where Oswald announced:
We present ourselves to you, Inhabitants of Cephalonia, not as Invaders, with views of conquest, but as Allies who hold forth to you the advantages of British protection.
In 1810 Oswald and Richard Church, an Anglo-Irish career soldier, invaded Santa Maura (modern Lefkada or Levkas) with a force of 2000 British and Greek soldiers, many of the latter to become fighters in the Greek War of Independence. They captured Levkas after heavy fighting. For this Oswald was made governor of the Ionian Islands, based in Zante, maintaining a British strategic presence, forming diplomatic relations with the Ottoman governors of mainland Greece. When Oswald left for England in 1811, Richard Church (later to become a General in the Greek War of Independence) succeeded. After less than a year, Church, slowly recovering from an arm wound incurred in the battle for Levkas, gave up the the governorship to George Airey, to tour through Ottoman occupied Greece as far as Constantinople.
After Napoleon's first abdication but before his return from exile in Elba and the battle of Waterloo on 18 June 1815, came the Congress of Vienna at which, over eight months between November 1814 and June 1815, allied ambassadors negotiated a map of post-Napoleonic Europe. Richard Church presented a report to Congress arguing that the Ionian Islands should stay under the British flag, recommending its extension to Parga and other Greek mainland towns in the possession of Ali Pasha of Yanina.
Corfu, defended by a French garrison under General Donzelot, was ordered by Louis XVIII to surrender to Sir James Campbell. After Napoleon's final defeat and second abdication, Great Britain, Russia, Austria and Prussia under the Treaty of Paris - 9th November 1815 - agreed to place the United States of the Ionian Islands under the 'amical protection' of Great Britain, and to give Austria the right of equal commercial advantage with the protecting country, a plan strongly approved by Count Kapodistria. This arrangement reinforced by the 'Maitland constitution' of 26 August 1817, creating a federation of the seven islands, with Sir Thomas Maitland its first High Commissioner [of Maitland's rule I've more to learn, but see p.174 of this reference: 'a colossal statue' in Cephalonia, a bust by Canova in Zante, a monument in Ithaka and a 'second triumphal arch' in Santa Maura! Chap. VI of the 1821 Edinburgh Annual Register, Sir Walter Scott's ambitious and eventually failed encyclopedic project for which I'm grateful and - 16/6/09 - a comment from Paxos on my flickr posting of Maitland's signature]

Thomas Maitland, second High Commissioner
explains "the advantages of British Protection" 1819
The United States of the Ionian Islands 1817 ~ National Archives
This arrangement lasted until 1864, three decades after the land across the narrow Ionian Sea, had, over eight years of gory insurrection against Ottoman rule, become the independent Kingdom of the Hellenes.
How the islands became united with Greece to be ruled from Athens is a complicated story - one which which surfaces in different versions even today, focusing on whether the British Protectorate was good or bad for Ionians, whether, when we did leave, we jumped or were pushed, and the advantages and disadvantages of union with mother Greece
Coach 420 on the M1 to London and the National Archives
To get more than second-hand insights I need to visit primary sources; see and carefully touch original papers, scan the gestures of official handwriting. So, I'm up at 5.30 for a day in London; cycling to Digbeth for a coach to Victoria (£9.40 return, and my folding bike in its bag accepted as luggage) then catching a District Line Underground to Kew, with a packed lunch from Lin.
I've already learned that the British Protectorate of the Ionian Islands, including Corfu, was headed by thirteen governors or rather a 'Commissioner' changed to 'Lord High Commissioners' - Sir James Campbell in 1814; half a century and twelve commissioners later, Sir Henry Storks, and overseeing the transition to union - enosis, Ένωσις - in 1864 with the Hellenic monarchy, the Greek Count Dimitrios Nikolaou Karousos [scroll down to the Ionian Islands on this link listing lead politicians and officials over the years ].
Primary sources at The National Archives
But now to the formal and informal writings, official reports, petitions, newspaper extracts, copies of letters sent and received (those in French, Greek and Italian translated, to my relief, into English) along with marginal comments. These are bound in heavy volumes bearing the impress of the Colonial Office. They can be studied in the Reading Room of The National Archives at Kew, which I visited for the first time yesterday, in pursuit of unsatisfied curiosity about what Robert Holland and Diana Markides call The Abandonment of the Ionian Protectorate 1859-1864 in their fascinating history - The British and the Hellenes.
I'm also on a long delayed errand following the letter I got from Thanassis Spingos and Kostas Apergis in Ano Korakiana in December 2007:
Dear Simon. It is said that before the Union of the Ionian Islands with Greece (1864), inhabitants of Ano Korakiana signed a 'paper' asking the British Government to keep the islands under Britain...We have been looking for this paper for years at the Greek archives without result. We wonder if you can help us by searching this paper in British archives (Parliament, Colonies archives, Foreign Office etc). We are sure that one of the names that signed the paper is Panos, Panayiotis or Panagiotis Metallinos (Μετταλινος). He was the 'leader'. A similar paper has been signed by inhabitants of Kinopiastes (another village in Corfu) and one village in Zakynthos island...
When I see Kostas or Thannassis I feel embarrassed at my delay. I think I've feared not finding the document they asked me about - through lack of diligence; through not being able to read the language in which it may be couched. After five hours hefting requested books from the locker allocated me in the Reading Room to my allocated desk I'd had a fascinating dip into original sources, gaining confidence as I went along, especially as all documents in Greek or Italian have an English translation attached. Only some of the handwriting is hard to follow.
I'd arrived as an ingénue. The staff at the National Archives are pros - bright, unpatronising. The place teems with people who know their way - veteran researchers - and others, like me, there for the first time.
First step was leaving my folding bicycle and bag in a cloakroom chained 'keep your key...put your laptop and pencils - no pens - in a transparent plastic bag.' Then came the daily briefing for newbies on how to get started - 20 minutes helpful guidance; then to 'The Learning Zone', a few yards away on the same floor where a bank of helpers, screens on-line to the archives, gave hints on catalogue searching. To see Ionian Protectorate documents I'd need a reader's card. That involved five minutes being photographed and showing ID - driving licence and a utility bill. I haven't done original text research for so long, it was like going back to school, with the excitement but not the trepidation. Finally I strolled through a polite security check, swiped my new card and came to the Reading Room.
Here you check in at an enquiry counter and are allocated a triangular space on one of many circular desks. Grey polystyrene blocks for large volumes to protect book spines, little weights like necklaces, so you don't have to press pages down with your fingers, and stands for taking photos with your own or a provided camera are to hand. I was also allocated a locker with the same number as my desk space - 20C - in one of two bays of about a hundred tiered lockers; all with glass doors on the reader's side, open at the bac. As we were told at the briefing talk, you order up to three items from the catalogue, with a note over the desk and, after a bit, by sitting at a computer screen by the counter, entering your reader's number from your card and searching and ordering; the computer keeping a tally of what you've requested already. After a maximum of 40 minutes - time for a coffee downstairs - the first three volumes had been placed in my locker. I could take them, one at a time, to study at my desk space, having ordered the next three items. By the time I'd looked through the first three, the next batch were in my locker. I could take them back to a 'returns' counter or leave everything I'd requested in my locker. (For future visits the first set of documents can be ordered from my kitchen table or wherever I have access to the web, ready for my arrival. Indeed a large part of the National Archives are catalogued for on-line search).
I asked for the documents suggested by Eleni Calligas, the young scholar who knows her way around these sources as well as anyone, an expert in Ionian politics and Hellenic nationalism:
I would suggest that the best place to look is the High Commissioner's Correspondence at the Colonial Office archive of the Protection, housed in the Public Record Office, now re-named National Archives but still held at the Kew. I would look at the last couple of years, from 1862 onwards - probably starting from CO136/177 to /184. If such a petition does exist and is signed by inhabitants of the village, it would be interesting to identify the local figure of importance, as the initiative probably emanated from there.

Five months before the British Protectorate ended
So, on my first visit to the National Archives I've found no petition from Ano Korakiana nor mention of any of the senior names of the village - Savvanis, Vradis, Mandilas, Ionas, Markos, Metallinos, Laskaris, Kaloudis, Linosporis, Reggis, Balatsinos, Kendarchos or Kefallonitis - nor from Kinopiastes - about 6 miles south of Corfu Town - nor, indeed, from any other village on the island.
This does not really surprise me. I understand from Kostas and Thannassis that the two villages on Corfu, and another whose name I don't know, on Zakinthos, were opposed to enosis, and even today - so I read in May's edition of The Corfiot Magazine - of the island's eighteen bands, the philharmonic orchestras of Korakiana and Kinopiastes do not play at the celebrations of Unification Day held in Corfu each 21 May.
[A check on the Ano Korakiana website shows the Samaras Philharmonia Band was a definite presence in Corfu Town on 21 May, along with the three bands from Corfu Town - a reminder, as ever, to check sources! "Η Φιλαρμονική της Κορακιάνας που συμμετέχει κάθε χρόνο στην εκδήλωση αυτή, μαζί με τις τρεις Φιλαρμονικές της πόλης της Κέρκυρας, είχε μια πολύ καλή, ισορροπημένη και «δεμένη» μουσικά, παρουσία, κερδίζοντας τις εντυπώσεις, σύμφωνα με τα σχόλια που μπορούσε κανείς να ακούσει."]
It's possible the petition, if it was a petition on paper rather than a representation delivered orally to Sir Henry Knight Storks, has disappeared from the record, or was never allowed to appear on it. Given the profile of enthusiasm displayed for enosis and the denigration of pro-English sentiments reported by Sir Henry, it's possible that opposition was expressed more privately than support.
I shall search the Storks files again, and look also at Foreign Office files, but it may be that I need to go back to the extraordinary tenure at the High Commissioner's Palace of William Gladstone, over seven weeks between the 24 November 1858 and the 19 February 1859.** Perhaps it was during those weeks, before enosis seemed given, that the elders of Ano Korakiana and others delivered petitions against the ending of the Protectorate.
Such opinions may be unrealistic; they're still expressed, thus Harry Tsoukalas, a business man on the island, planning to stand in the 2009 EU elections in a week:
These things are anathema to say but the truth is that unification with Greece was the darkest day in our history. It was a huge mistake that we have regretted ever since.
In Chapter 2 of their book, Holland and Markides, report Gladstone visiting Athens as part of his Ionian mission. While there he sounded out Ionian and Greek politician on unification:
This analysis stressed 'a divided sentiment' in Greek thinking on the matter, so that union was 'feared as well as desired'. The desire sprang from a natural inclination to cohabit with fellow Hellenes; the fear from the prospect of incorporating a branch of their race whose competitive abilities and education were so finely honed. In sum, the Greeks of the kingdom were fearful that union would turn out to be 'an annexation of Greece to the Islands, not of the Island's to Greece. (p.32)
In a letter to the Duke of Newcastle, (scroll down on the link to '23.12.1862') Colonial Office Minister, in London, Sir Henry Storks includes a translation of an unsigned note in Greek found in Corfu Town:
May the curses of St Spixidion(?)* light on him, who cries long live union with Greece.
Signature of Sir Henry Knight Storks, Lord High Commissioner of the Ionian Islands 1859-1863
*Note: Almost certainly St.Spyridon - Ἃγιος Σπυρίδων - Corfu's protective patron saint.
**Note: Harold Temperley (1937) in 'Documents Illustrating the Cession of the Ionian Islands to Greece, 1848-70', The Journal of Modern History, Vol. 9, No. 1, Mar., pp. 48-55, on p.49 describes three phases - covering at least 22 years - of the question of the ending of the British Protectorate:
A. Period of abortive proposals, 1848-65
I. Lord John Russell on possible cession to Austria, May 1, 1848 11. Palmerston on possible retention, December 21, 1850 111. Gladstone against annexation to England, February 2, 1855
B. Gladstone's attempt at settlement as high commissioner extraordinary and its aftermath, 1858-61
IV. His views on prevalent misconceptions, March 22, 1861
C. Period of cession and its aftermath, 1862-
V. Gladstone on the cabinet decision, December 8, 1862 VI. The queen's assent, December 9, 1862 VII. Clarendon in retrospect, March 15, 1870
* * *
'...not as Invaders, with views of conquest, but as Allies...'
The way the British and the Ionians parted company in 1864 is an exercise in the refined political delicacy with which a lose-lose, or at best a win-lose, situation can be turned into one that goes down in history, often to the bewilderment of those looking for a fight, as one in which almost all feel they've won, though quite a few, as Eleni Calligas observed of the Corfiot radicals, may be left bewildered. Such developments cannot be arrived at by one party to the potential conflict. The work of both, behind closed doors, is vital to the legerdemain of peaceful resolution. Apart from my particular interest in the mysterious petition from Ano Korakiana, this is why the peaceful and dignified conclusion of the Ionian Protectorate is of such enduring interest. In the records I was scanning on Wednesday I saw a translated slip passed to the Commissioner's desk in the last year of the Protectorate; 'If I my wife were pregnant with a child that I knew to be harbouring pro-English sentiments, I would rip it from her womb.' Storks notes receipt and makes no written comment.
How did two parties, both of proven historical capacity for immeasurable blood-letting, end up on 21 May 1864 at the Port of Corfu, participating, against a background of jovial band music, in a joint ceremony, with bunting, flag waving, roaring salutes, bowing, hand shaking and smiles? It was the happy culmination of an exercise in political wisdom that benefits the English in Corfu to this day.
I conjecture that at the opening of the new Acropolis Museum in Athens on 20 June 2009 we shall witness - or, rather, not witness, because their machinations will be circumspect, circuitous and opaque - the prefatory manoeuvering of two politically cunning nations, as they finesse a way of speaking about the contentious issue of 'the marbles' that will eventually allow both parties to claim victory in conserving, maintaining, and restoring that ancient marmoreal commentary on the contest between Athena and Poseidon. Nationalists, kriegsliebers, keyboard warriors, from both sides, will grind their teeth in bewildered vexation, as the British and Greek flags unite, amid fireworks and mingled anthems, at a ceremony of many embraces and a thousand kisses, on a date to be agreed.
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Από: Simon Baddeley Θέμα: Researching the National Archives at Kew in London Προς: korakiana_com@yahoo.gr Ημερομηνία: Παρασκευή, 29 Μάιος 2009, 10:44
Dear Thanasis and Kostas. At last I got myself to the National Archives at Kew in London to search for any clues on that 'petition' from the village. It's been v.interesting but so far I have not found any document from Ano Korakiana or Kinopiastes. I have found many references though to the mixed feelings of people from the Ionian Islands - especially Corfu - about enosis in 1864. I plan to go back next week. If you have any further clues or advice do please pass this to me. Here is my diary with some images of my visit to to the Archives on Wednesday. Kindest regards. Xerete and wish me luck! Simon, Beaudesert Road, B20 3TG, UK
From: Κβκ Κορακιανα Date: Sun 31 May 2009 To: Simon Baddeley
Dear Simon. We are so glad to hear from you. Unfortunately we haven't had any clues so far but it's been very interesting for us to bring some references especially from Corfu. Thank you very much. We are looking forward to seeing you. Thanasis-Costas
Ionian Islands electoral lists ~ 1861 (Sta.Maura = Lefkadas)
* * *Having written to Corfiot News querying the report in the May edition about Ano Korakiana's band absenting itself from the annual celebration on 21 May of enosis with Greece in 1864, I got a reply on 2 June from Hilary Paipeti with permission to repeat it referencing the source - The Corfiot Magazine
Hi, thanks for that. It was always a tradition that Kinopiastes and Korakiana didn't go, but maybe that's changed. I'll amend it for next time! Hilary. PS Here is an archive article...
'Celebrating Union with Greece' Corfu News, Saturday, 15 May 1965:
In 1814 Great Britain, after a decision with the Great Powers of that time - Austria, Russia and France - established herself in the Ionian Islands as a ‘Protecting Power’. It was after the Napoleonic wars and the fall of the great Corsican, when the oppressive violence of the Holy Alliance was clouding the aged continent. A few years later liberating movements started in the whole of Europe. The revolution of 1821 gave the Greeks a conscience of their national rights and awakened into the souls of the enslaved the desire of freedom. The liberated Greek kingdom exercised an irresistible attraction to the people of the Ionian Islands. The French revolution of 1848 - which history considers as a starting point of the people’s spring - urged the Ionians to more vigorous claims. The first demands for a more liberal self-government formed, with the passing years, a strong national and social character. So, when in 1859 Gladstone was sent by the British government to the Ionian Islands to find a conciliatory solution, which would secure the continuation of the established regime of the Protectorate, the only voice he heard was ‘Union and only Union’. Four years later Great Britain was compelled to yield to the liberating struggle of the Ionians to accept the Union of the Septinsular State with Greece. On May 21 1864, the Greek flag was hoisted over the Citadel. Corfu and the six other Ionian Islands became an inseparable part of the independent Greek state.
To this Hilary added, from Corfiot News archives, this contemporary report on events on the island on 21 May 1864 - source not mentioned:
On the day of Union with Greece, British soldiers were exchanging military salutes with the Greek soldiers who had arrived to take over. When the Greek officer gave the order ‘Present Arms!’, one of the Corfiot spectators laughed and commented: ‘You hear that? These miserable Greeks have only just arrived, and already they’re begging!’ The Greek army was represented by some soldiers from the 10th Regiment, headed by General Pisa, who had been commanded to take over the island and its fortresses. As the British troops embarked into their warship and left, the general, together with the military and political leadership of the island, made his way to the Church of Saint Spiridon for a thanksgiving mass. Meanwhile, the common people were not so thankful. Under foreign rule for centuries, they now felt the time for revenge against the elite had come, and they lusted to pillage and burn the mansions of the landlords. And new authority was not yet in place. The people of Potamos, led by their political leader, Heimarios, set off for Town, advancing and shouting curses. Heimarios tried at first to calm them as he feared a confrontation with the army. But finding that impossible, he tried to persuade them to head for the countryside. ‘That’s where the big fight will be!’ he promised. But the most hot-blooded would not listen. They reached Platytera, where the Maltese community lived, and attacked the gardens and fields and smallholdings of the workers of that poor area. Heimarios could not stop them. But then he shrugged and said to himself: ‘Well, let them get on with it. Let them work off their anger on the Maltese, who have no mansions. The worst they can do is beat up a few locals, and steal a goat or two, and they’ll be happy. When we get back to the village, they’ll have calmed down and we can give the animals back.’ The Maltese men were absent, and only old people and children were at home. The Potamites did not harm them. They untied the sheep and cows, herded the grazing sheep, set fire to some thatches, and returned with their grand spoils to Potamos. They entered the village singing in celebration. But at the outskirts, they were brought up short by screams coming from their own houses. While they had themselves been looting, the men of Kontokali, returning in a gang from Town, had put into action a long-held plan to attack Potamos as soon as the British left. They entered the village from the east, causing the women and children to flee. Then they beat up a few remaining men, barged into the houses, and looted everything they could lay their hands on. After the initial shock at finding them there, the men of Potamos struck back, and the gang from Kontokali, caught in the surprise attack, fled down the hill. It was a remarkable sight - the Kontokalites fleeing with their booty, chased by the furious Potamites. But the runaways were weighed down with their loot, so as they ran they were the shedding clothes, tools and household goods they had stolen. The men of Potamos chased them as far as the outskirts of Kontokali. Spiros Peroulakis, a shoemaker from Potamos, was an eye-witness to the mayhem. It was a spectacle that rendered him speechless. The whole scene was a seething battleground, a mass of bodies - men, women and children - struggling against each other with scythes and spades. Meanwhile, two villagers from Korakiana appeared, running with sweat and panting fit to burst. They entered the kafenion where Peroulakis had taken refuge. ‘Give us water!’ they demanded. ‘We’re dying of thirst!’ ‘What are you running for?’ asked Peroulakis. They told him that they were on their way to Town to report to the army that Korakiana was being attacked by a group of about two hundred men from Skripero. At first, Peroulakis was under the impression that they were pillaging the houses of the landlords, but the men told him that they were looting the common houses, stealing oil and wine, and breaking into dowry chests. ‘Why don’t you call on your own men to protect their houses?’ asked Peroulakis. ‘We tried,’ was the reply, ‘but they were too busy looting in Skripero!’ And that is how the Union of the Ionian Islands was celebrated in Corfu’s villages.

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Simon Baddeley