Sport Bodily Culture and Classical Antiq

Copyrighted Material
Sport, Bodily Culture and Classical Antiquity in

Modern Greece
Ancient Greece was the model that guided the emergence of many facets of the modern
sports movement, including most notably the Olympics. Yet the process whereby
aspects of the ancient world were appropriated and manipulated by sport authorities of
nation-states, athletic organizations and their leaders as well as by sports enthusiasts is
only very partially understood.
This volume takes modern Greece as a case-study and explores, in depth, issues
related to the reception and use of classical antiquity in modern sport, spectacle and
bodily culture. For citizens of the Greek nation-state, classical antiquity is not merely a
vague "legacy" but the cornerstone of their national identity. In the field of sport and
bodily culture, since the 1830s there had been persistent attempts to establish firm and
direct links between ancient Greek athletics and modern sport through the incorpora-
tion of sport in school curricula, the emergence of national sport historiographies as
well as the initiatives to revive (in the 19th century) or appropriate (in the 20th) the
modern Olympics. Based on fieldwork and unpublished material sources, this book
dissects the use and abuse of classical antiquity and sport in constructing national,
gender and class identities, and illuminate aspects of the complex modern perceptions
of classicism, sport and the body.
This book was previously published as a special issue of the International Journal of
the History of Sport.
Eleni Fournaraki is Assistant Professor in Modern Social History at the University of

Crete. Her research interests focus on normative discourses on gender difference in 19 th
century Greece, especially within the field of education. She has edited an anthology of
sources on gender and education, Girls’ Education and Training: Greek Discourses
(1830-1910): An Anthology (Historical Archives of Greek Youth – General Secretariat
of Youth: Athens 1987) and published many scholarly articles on the history of physi-
cal education and sport in 19th century Greece, the history of women’s periodicals,
gender history and citizenship.
Zinon Papakonstantinou is Lecturer in Ancient History at the University of Athens. He

has authored Lawmaking and Adjudication in Archaic Greece (Duckworth: London
2008) and edited Sport in the Cultures of the Ancient World: New Perspectives (Rou-
tledge: London 2010). He has also published numerous scholarly articles on ancient
Greek law, sport, commensality and alcoholic drinking.
Provided by Taylor and Francis - Papakonstantinou 29.05.2012


Sport, Bodily Culture and Classical

Antiquity in Modern Greece
Edited by
Eleni Fournaraki and Zinon Papakonstantinou

First published 2011

by Routledge
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© 2011 Taylor & Francis
This book is a reproduction of the International Journal of the History of Sport, vol. 27, issue 12. The
Publisher requests to those authors who may be citing this book to state, also, the bibliographical details of
the special issue on which the book was based.
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The publisher would like to make readers aware that the chapters in this book are referred to as articles as
they had been in the special issue. The publisher accepts responsibility for any inconsistencies that may have
arisen in the course of preparing this volume for print.

Contents
Series Editors’ Foreword vii

Historical Perspectives series pages ix
Sport in the Global Society series pages xi
1. Prologue: Sport, Bodily Culture and Classical Antiquity in Modern Greece

Zinon Papakonstantinou 1
2. From Antiquity to Olympic Revival: Sports and Greek National Historiography

(Nineteenth – Twentieth Centuries)
Christina Koulouri 10
3. Bodies that Differ: Mid- and Upper-Class Women and the Quest for ‘Greekness’
in Female Bodily Culture (1896–1940)
Eleni Fournaraki 49
4. ‘Resurrecting’ Ancient Bodies: The Tragic Chorus in Prometheus Bound and

Suppliant Women at the Delphic Festivals in 1927 and 1930
Antonis Glytzouris 86
5. Rallying the Nation: Sport and Spectacle Serving the Greek Dictatorships
Gonda Van Steen 117
6. Fanning the Flame: Transformations of the 2004 Olympic Flame

Eleana Yalouri 151
7. Epilogue: New Directions in Classical Reception, Sport and the Body

in Modern Greece
Zinon Papakonstantinou 180
Index 183


SERIES EDITORS’ FOREWORD
On January 1, 2010 Sport in the Global Society, created by Professor J.A. Mangan in
1997, was divided into two parts: Historical Perspectives and Contemporary Perspec-
tives. These new categories involve predominant rather than exclusive emphases. The
past is part of the present and the present is part of the past. The Editors of Historical
Perspectives are Mark Dyreson and Thierry Terret.
The reasons for the division are straightforward. SGS has expanded rapidly since its
creation with over one hundred publications in some twelve years. Its editorial
teams will now benefit from sectional specialist interests and expertise. Historical Per-
spectives draws on IJHS monograph reviews, themed collections and conference/
workshop collections. It is, of course, international in content.
Historical Perspectives continues the tradition established by the original incarnation of

Sport in the Global Society by promoting the academic study of one of the most sig-
nificant and dynamic forces in shaping the historical landscapes of human cultures.
Sport spans the contemporary globe. It captivates vast audiences. It defines, alters, and
reinforces identities for individuals, communities, nations, empires, and the world.
Sport organizes memories and perceptions, arouses passions and tensions, and reveals
harmonies and cleavages. It builds and blurs social boundaries, animating discourses
about class, gender, race, and ethnicity. Sport opens new vistas on the history of human
cultures, intersecting with politics and economics, ideologies and theologies. It reveals
aesthetic tastes and energizes consumer markets.
By the end of the twentieth century a critical mass of scholars recognized the impor-
tance of sport in their analyses of human experiences and Sport in the Global Society
emerged to provide an international outlet for the world’s leading investigators of the
subject. As Professor Mangan contended in the original series foreword: “The story of
modern sport is the story of the modern world—in microcosm; a modern global
tapestry permanently being woven. Furthermore, nationalist and imperialist, philoso-
pher and politician, radical and conservative have all sought in sport a manifestation of
national identity, status and superiority. Finally for countless millions sport is the per-
sonal pursuit of ambition, assertion, well-being and enjoyment.”
Sport in the Global Society: Historical Perspectives continues the project, building on
previous work in the serious and excavating new terrain. It remains a consistent and
coherent response to the attention the academic community demands for the serious
study of sport.
Mark Dyreson
Thierry Terret
vii


SPORT IN THE GLOBAL SOCIETY

Series Editors: Mark Dyreson and Thierry Terret
SPORT, BODILY CULTURE AND CLASSICAL ANTIQUITY IN

MODERN GREECE

Sport in the Global Society: Historical Perspectives

Series Editors: Mark Dyreson and Thierry Terret
Titles in the Series
Encoding the Olympics The Balkan Games and Balkan Politics

The Beijing Olympic Games and the in the Interwar Years 1929-1939
Communication Impact Worldwide Politicians in Pursuit of Peace
Edited by Luo Qing and Giuseppe Richeri Penelope Kissoudi
Gymnastics, a Transatlantic Movement Sport Past and Present in South Africa

From Europe to America (Trans)forming the Nation
Edited by Gertrud Pfister Edited by Scarlet Cornelissen and
Albert Grundlingh
Militarism, Hunting, Imperialism
‘Blooding’ The Martial Male The Beijing Olympics: Promoting China
J.A. Mangan and Callum McKenzie Soft and Hard Power in Global Politics
Edited by Kevin Caffrey
Post-Beijing 2008
Geopolitics, Sport, Pacific Rim The History of Motor Sport
Edited by J.A. Mangan and Fan Hong A Case Study Analysis
Edited by David Hassan
Representing the Nation
Sport and Spectacle in Post-Revolu- The Politics of the Male Body in Sport
tionary Mexico The Danish Involvement
Claire and Keith Brewster Hans Bonde
Rule Britannia: Nationalism, Identity and The Rise of Stadiums in the Modern
the Modern Olympic Games United States
Matthew Llewellyn Cathedrals of Sport
Edited by Mark Dyreson and
Sport, Bodily Culture and Classical Anti- Robert Trumpbour
quity in Modern Greece
Edited by Eleni Fournaraki and The Visual in Sport
Zinon Papakonstantinou Edited by Mike Huggins and
Mike O’Mahony
Sport in the Cultures of the Ancient
World Women, Sport, Society
New Perspectives Further Reflections, Reaffirming Mary
Edited by Zinon Papakonstantinou Wollstonecraft
Edited by Roberta Park and
Sport in the Pacific Patricia Vertinsky
Colonial and Postcolonial Consequencies
Edited by C. Richard King

Sport in the Global Society

Past SGS publications prior to 2010
Africa, Football and FIFA Athleticism in the Victorian and Edwar-

Politics, Colonialism and Resistance dian Public School
Paul Darby The Emergence and Consolidation of an
Educational Ideology, New Edition
Amateurism in British Sport J.A. Mangan
‘It Matters Not Who Won or Lost’
Edited by Dilwyn Porter and Stephen Australian Beach Cultures
Wagg The History of Sun, Sand and Surf
Douglas Booth
Amateurism in Sport
An Analysis and Defence Barbarians, Gentlemen and Players
Lincoln Allison A Sociological Study of the Develop-
ment of Rugby Football, Second Edi-
America's Game(s) tion
A Critical Anthropology of Sport Eric Dunning and Kenneth Sheard
Edited by Benjamin Eastman, Sean
Brown and Michael Ralph Beijing 2008: Preparing for Glory
Chinese Challenge in the ‘Chinese Cen-
American Sports tury’
An Evolutionary Approach Edited by J.A. Mangan and Dong Jinxia
Edited by Alan Klein
Body and Mind
A Social History of Indian Football Sport in Europe from the Roman Empire
Striving to Score to the Renaissance
Kausik Bandyopadhya and Boria John McClelland
Majumdar
British Football and Social Exclusion
A Social History of Swimming in Eng- Edited by Stephen Wagg
land, 1800–1918
Splashing in the Serpentine Capoeira
Christopher Love The History of an Afro-Brazilian Mar-
tial Art
A Sport-Loving Society Matthias Röhrig Assunção
Victorian and Edwardian Middle-Class
England at Play Crafting Patriotism for Global Dom-
Edited by J.A. Mangan inance
America at the Olympics
Mark Dyreson
xi

SPORT IN THE GLOBAL SOCIETY SERIES PAGES
Cricket and England Europe, Sport, World

A Cultural and Social History of Cricket Shaping Global Societies
in England between the Wars Edited by J.A. Mangan
Jack Williams
Flat Racing and British Society, 1790–
Cricket in Colonial India, 1780–1947 1914
Boria Majumdar A Social and Economic History
Mike Huggins
Cricketing Cultures in Conflict
Cricketing World Cup 2003 Football and Community in the Global
Edited by Boria Majumdar and J.A. Context
Mangan Studies in Theory and Practice
Edited by Adam Brown, Tim Crabbe and
Cricket, Race and the 2007 World Cup Gavin Mellor
Edited by Boria Majumdar and Jon
Gemmell Football: From England to the World
Edited by Dolores P. Martinez and Projit
Disciplining Bodies in the Gymnasium B. Mukharji
Memory, Monument, Modernity
Sherry McKay and Patricia Vertinsky Football, Europe and the Press
Liz Crolley and David Hand
Disreputable Pleasures
Less Virtuous Victorians at Play Football Fans Around the World
Edited by Mike Huggins and J.A. From Supporters to Fanatics
Mangan Edited by Sean Brown
Doping in Sport Football: The First Hundred Years

Global Ethical Issues The Untold Story
Edited by Angela Schneider and Fan Adrian Harvey
Hong
Footbinding, Feminism and Freedom
Emigrant Players The Liberation of Women’s Bodies in
Sport and the Irish Diaspora Modern China
Edited by Paul Darby and David Hassan Fan Hong
Ethnicity, Sport, Identity France and the 1998 World Cup

Struggles for Status The National Impact of a World Sport-
Edited by J.A. Mangan and Andrew ing Event
Ritchie Edited by Hugh Dauncey and Geoff Hare
European Heroes Freeing the Female Body

Myth, Identity, Sport Inspirational Icons
Edited by Richard Holt, J.A. Mangan Edited by J.A. Mangan and Fan Hong
and Pierre Lanfranchi
xii

Fringe Nations in Soccer Making European Masculinities

Making it Happen Sport, Europe, Gender
Edited by Kausik Bandyopadhyay and Edited by J.A. Mangan
Sabyasachi Malick
Making Men
From Fair Sex to Feminism Rugby and Masculine Identity
Sport and the Socialization of Women in Edited by John Nauright and Timothy J.
the Industrial and Post-Industrial Eras L. Chandler
Edited by J.A. Mangan and Roberta J.
Park Making the Rugby World
Race, Gender, Commerce
Gender, Sport, Science Edited by Timothy J.L. Chandler and
Selected Writings of Roberta J. Park John Nauright
Edited by J.A. Mangan and Patricia
Vertinsky Militarism, Hunting, Imperialism
‘Blooding’ The Martial Male
Globalised Football J.A. Mangan and Callum McKenzie
Nations and Migration, the City and the
Dream Militarism, Sport, Europe
Edited by Nina Clara Tiesler and João War Without Weapons
Nuno Coelho Edited by J.A. Mangan
Italian Fascism and the Female Body Modern Sport: The Global Obsession
Sport, Submissive Women and Strong Essays in Honour of J.A.Mangan
Mothers Edited by Boria Majumdar and Fan
Gigliola Gori Hong
Japan, Sport and Society Muscular Christianity and the Colonial

Tradition and Change in a Globalizing and Post-Colonial World
World Edited by John J. MacAloon
Edited by Joseph Maguire and
Masayoshi Nakayama Native Americans and Sport in North
America
Law and Sport in Contemporary Society Other Peoples’ Games
Edited by Steven Greenfield and Guy Edited by C. Richard King
Osborn
Olympic Legacies – Intended and Unin-
Leisure and Recreation in a Victorian tended
Mining Community Political, Cultural, Economic and Edu-
The Social Economy of Leisure in cational
North-East England, 1820–1914 Edited by J.A. Mangan and Mark Dyr-
Alan Metcalfe eson
Lost Histories of Indian Cricket Playing on the Periphery

Battles off the Pitch Sport, Identity and Memory
Boria Majumdar Tara Brabazon
xiii

Pleasure, Profit, Proselytism Soccer in South Asia

British Culture and Sport at Home and Empire, Nation, Diaspora
Abroad 1700–1914 Edited by Paul Dimeo and James Mills
Edited by J.A. Mangan
Soccer’s Missing Men
Rain Stops Play Schoolteachers and the Spread of Asso-
Cricketing Climates ciation Football
Andrew Hignell J.A. Mangan and Colm Hickey
Reformers, Sport, Modernizers Soccer, Women, Sexual Liberation

Middle-Class Revolutionaries Kicking off a New Era
Edited by J.A. Mangan Edited by Fan Hong and J.A. Mangan
Rugby’s Great Split Sport: Race, Ethnicity and Indigenity

Class, Culture and the Origins of Rugby Building Global Understanding
League Football Edited by Daryl Adair
Tony Collins
Sport and American Society
Running Cultures Exceptionalism, Insularity, ‘Imperialism’
Racing in Time and Space Edited by Mark Dyreson and J.A.
John Bale Mangan
Scoring for Britain Sport and Foreign Policy in a Globalizing

International Football and International World
Politics, 1900–1939 Edited by Steven J. Jackson and Stephen
Peter J. Beck Haigh
Serious Sport Sport and International Relations

J.A. Mangan’s Contribution to the His- An Emerging Relationship
tory of Sport Edited by Roger Levermore and Adrian
Edited by Scott Crawford Budd
Shaping the Superman Sport and Memory in North America

Fascist Body as Political Icon – Aryan Edited by Steven Wieting
Fascism
Edited by J.A. Mangan Sport, Civil Liberties and Human Rights
Edited by Richard Giulianotti and David
Sites of Sport McArdle
Space, Place and Experience
Edited by John Bale and Patricia Ver- Sport, Culture and History
tinksy Region, Nation and Globe
Brian Stoddart
Soccer and Disaster
International Perspectives Sport in Asian Society
Edited by Paul Darby, Martin Jones and Past and Present
Gavin Mellor Edited by Fan Hong and J.A. Mangan
xiv

Sport in Australasian Society Sporting Nationalisms

Past and Present Identity, Ethnicity, Immigration and
Edited by J.A. Mangan and John Nau- Assimilation
right Edited by Mike Cronin and David
Mayall
Sport in Europe
Politics, Class, Gender Superman Supreme
Edited by J.A. Mangan Fascist Body as Political Icon – Global
Fascism
Sport in Films Edited by J.A. Mangan
Edited by Emma Poulton and Martin
Roderick Terrace Heroes
The Life and Times of the 1930s Profes-
Sport in Latin American Society sional Footballer
Past and Present Graham Kelly
Edited by Lamartine DaCosta and J.A.
Mangan The Balkan Games and Balkan Politics
in the Interwar Years 1929-1939
Sport in South Asian Society Politicians in Pursuit of Peace
Past and Present Penelope Kissoudi
Edited by Boria Majumdar and J.A.
Mangan The Changing Face of the Football Busi-
Sport in the Cultures of the Ancient ness
World Supporters Direct
New Perspectives Edited by Sean Hamil, Jonathan Michie,
Edited by Zinon Papakonstantinou Christine Oughton and Steven Warby
Sport, Media, Culture The Commercialisation of Sport

Global and Local Dimensions Edited by Trevor Slack
Edited by Alina Bernstein and Neil Blain
The Cultural Bond
Sport, Nationalism and Orientalism Sport, Empire, Society
The Asian Games Edited by J.A. Mangan
Edited by Fan Hong
The First Black Footballer
Sport Tourism Arthur Wharton 1865–1930: An
Edited by Heather J. Gibson Absence of Memory
Phil Vasili
Sporting Cultures
Hispanic Perspectives on Sport, Text and The Football Manager
the Body A History
Edited by David Wood and P. Louise Neil Carter
Johnson
The Future of Football
Challenges for the Twenty-First Century
Edited by Jon Garland, Dominic Mal-
colm and Mike Rowe
xv

The Games Ethic and Imperialism The Politics of South African Cricket
Aspects of the Diffusion of an Ideal Jon Gemmell
J.A. Mangan
The Race Game
The Global Politics of Sport Sport and Politics in South Africa
The Role of Global Institutions in Sport Douglas Booth
Edited by Lincoln Allison
The Rise of Stadiums in the Modern
The Lady Footballers United States
Struggling to Play in Victorian Britain Cathedrals of Sport
James F. Lee Edited by Mark Dyreson and Robert
Trumpbour
The Magic of Indian Cricket
Cricket and Society in India, Revised The Tour De France, 1903–2003
Edition A Century of Sporting Structures,
Mihir Bose Meanings and Values
Edited by Hugh Dauncey and Geoff Hare
The Making of New Zealand Cricket
1832–1914 This Great Symbol
Greg Ryan Pierre de Coubertin and the Origins of
the Modern Olympic Games
The 1940 Tokyo Games: The Missing John J. MacAloon
Olympics
Japan, the Asian Olympics and the Tribal Identities
Olympic Movement Nationalism, Europe, Sport
Sandra Collins Edited by J.A. Mangan
The Nordic World: Sport in Society Women, Sport and Society in Modern
Edited by Henrik Meinander and J.A. China
Mangan Holding up More than Half the Sky
Dong Jinxia
xvi

Prologue: Sport, Bodily Culture and

Classical Antiquity in Modern Greece
Zinon Papakonstantinou
It is no secret that the modern Olympics have become a major crowd pleaser. Assisted
by ever growing technological capabilities, the popularity of the Olympic Games is
perhaps rivalled only by the FIFA World Cup. In recent years the Olympics also mark
the occasion for a spate of conferences, publications and exhibitions which capitalize
on scholarly and popular interest on ancient Greek sport. This trend reached its
climax in 2004, the year when the summer Olympics were held in Athens. At the
same time, it is estimated that courses on ancient Greek sport taught in universities
around the world are now more numerous and popular than ever.
Even though the increasing interest on ancient Greek sport is a welcome
development for devotees of the subject, and constitutes a corrective to the almost
comprehensive scholarly indifference for the subject until the 1980s, it has always
appeared incongruous in the eyes of historians of modern Greece. That is not only
because Greece, since gaining independence as a nation-state in 1832, has had an
interesting albeit chequered relationship with sport and other expressions of bodily
culture. It is also because modern Greek sport was to a great extent defined with
reference to its perceived ancient predecessor, an aspect of classical reception that has
been largely neglected both by classicists and historians of modern sport.
The volume at hand aims at partially filling this gap by addressing issues related to
sport and bodily culture in modern Greece. Our definitions of ‘sport’ and ‘bodily
culture’ are wide and include not only sport in the form of physical exercise and
competition, but also sports historiography, the symbolism of athletic events
and even dances and popular festivals that articulated references to Greek antiquity
and national identity. This having been said, the purpose of the present volume is not
to provide a comprehensive history of sport in modern Greece. Instead, it aims at
examining in depth aspects of the history of athletic and other bodily activities, as
well as their ideological exploitation, during the period in question.
Besides the physical aspect, the element that connects all the different
manifestations of bodily culture examined in this volume is their direct and explicit

SPORT, BODILY CULTURE AND CLASSICAL ANTIQUITY IN MODERN GREECE
association with classical antiquity. It is no exaggeration to argue that at least since

the emergence of the modern Greek nation-state, and in many cases even before that,
Greeks, as a self-defined group or as an identity imposed from above, have lived in
the shadow of their ancient ‘predecessors’. This attitude can be traced back to the
middle ages when, after the dominance of Christianity over ancient paganism was
solidified, the study of classical antiquity became a scholarly field of study largely
independent from the passions and conflicts of religious doctrines. [1]
The trend to idealize and idolize ancient Greece surfaces very distinctively also in
the works of Western scholars and travellers who, starting primarily in the
Renaissance and continuing throughout the Ottoman period, visited Greece in great
numbers out of antiquarian interests or with the purpose of collecting antiquities. To
these itinerant scholars and/or looters of antiquities, modern Greeks appeared servile,
uneducated, ugly, in short a debased version of their glorious ‘ancestors’ who the
northern Europeans so much admired and studied. [2] Similar attitudes, albeit
usually without the rampant racist and patronizing overtones, were current in the
works of Greek scholars working in the context of the Neo-Hellenic Enlightenment.
Furthermore, during the same period the rapid and prolific development in Western
Europe of the scholarly field of classical studies, with its emphasis on the ancient
Greek ‘legacy’, intensified even further the contrast between the glorious ancient
versus the uncouth modern Greeks. Hence, in the eyes of the world Greeks of the
early modern and modern eras have constantly struggled, and almost always failed, to
fill in the shoes of their famous classical ‘ancestors’.
Given this background, it was almost inexorable that perceptions of Greekness that
emerged in the early nineteenth century in connection with the Greek war of
independence and the establishment of the Greek nation-state were heavily indebted
to the firmly established, romanticized views of Greek antiquity. Thus, the classical
world became a model and a point of reference for the embryonic Greek state which
strived to revive the ‘glory that was Greece’ in the context of the modern world. Soon
after independence, the missing link of historical continuity between ancient,
Byzantine and modern Greece (with antiquity retaining the symbolic primacy) was
firmly established by nationalist scholarly historiography and was duly adopted as the
mainstream national historical discourse. [3] As such, it was disseminated through
schools, the military and other state-sponsored institutions and provided the
framework within which the overwhelming majority of Greeks perceived their place
in history.
Hence starting in the nineteenth century, Hellenicity and national historical
continuity constituted the cornerstones of Greek identity. Nationalist discourses on
antiquity and national identity were articulated with reference to what was considered as
unequivocally ‘Greek’. Antiquarianism as state ideology was manifested in a myriad of
ways, even before the establishment of the ideological construct of ‘national continuity’.
For instance, soon after independence, state-sponsored efforts were underway to
transform ancient ruins into archaeological sites of national memory. [4] Regarding
sport and the performative arts (e.g. theatre), the ancient Greek ‘precedents’ were so

strong that they became fixed points of reference for the development and legitimization
of these activities. Revivals of ancient comedies and tragedies were staged [5] while in
the field of sport already during the 1830s there were calls for the revival of the Olympic
Games. [6] In a nutshell, since the early days of political emancipation manifestations of
sport and bodily culture were in Greece closely connected with notions of Hellenicity,
national identity and a pervasive antiquarianism.
In the context of the historical background outlined above, the papers contained in
the present volume engage with a number of prominent themes in the history of
Greek sport and bodily culture, while at the same time suggesting novel research
topics and approaches. It is usually the case that nation-building, in the sense of the
creation of the idea of the nation as a collective imaginary, precedes the creation of a
nation-state. Nationalist historiography, scholarly and popular, plays a pivotal role in
this process. Historically, Greece was no exception: soon after Greece became an
independent nation-state, historians were hard at work in order to refine the precepts
of Greek national identity. In this context the ideology of the historical continuity of
the Greek nation, now considered a cornerstone for Greek identity, emerged.
Sport was a constitutive element in the process of nation-building in nineteenth
century Greece. As we have already pointed out, much before the emergence of the
IOC Olympic movement, Greeks were very aware of the athletic ‘legacies’ of the
ancient Greeks, including the Olympics. It was therefore inevitable that sport and
physical education found their way into the nationalist historical discourses, both in
general histories of the Greek nation as well as in the form of national histories of
sport and physical education.
Koulouri’s paper examines in detail the shifting role of sport in Greek national
historiography until the 1970s. In the works of C. Paparrhigopoulos and S. Lambros,
both prominent academic historians of the nineteenth and early twentieth-centuries,
sport was depicted as a catalyst for cultural unification among the politically divided
ancient Greek city-states. Even though the above-mentioned historians were ardent
supporters of the paradigm of national historical continuity, they merely glossed over
sport and physical exercise in Byzantine and modern periods. In their works, as well
as in the works of other historians of the same period, the history of Greek sport was
almost synonymous with the history of ancient Greek sport, and especially the
ancient Olympics. It was in this ideological climate that the various attempts (e.g.
Zappas) to revive the Olympics in nineteenth century Greece occurred, attempts that
emphasized primarily the contribution of eventual Olympic revivals to the
concomitant ‘renaissance’ of the recently emancipated Greek nation.
Eventually, the Byzantine, Ottoman and early modern periods were incorporated
into the mainstream national historical narrative, a fact that had implications also for
the history of sport. Even though sport in Byzantium, due to the predominantly
Christian character of the latter, was viewed with ambivalence by some quarters, the
Ottoman period Greek bandits and the fighters of the war of independence were

almost unanimously presented as embodiments of the ancient Greek athletic spirit

which contributed, it was argued, to the military success of the war. Koulouri also
points out that the development of independent tertiary education institutions of
physical education led to a separate branch of sports historiography that covered, in
addition to competitive sport, the history of physical exercise.
Once established by academic historiography, by the late nineteenth century the
tenets of historical continuity were quickly adopted and overwhelmingly permeated
journalism, literature and state ideology. Fournaraki’s paper examines the
articulation of the notions of Hellenicity and historical continuity in connection
with female sport and bodily culture, as expressed in the middle- and upper-class
Ladies’ Journal. Advocating a feminism of ‘equality through difference’ the Ladies’
Journal provided on the occasion of the 1896 Athens Olympics and the 1906 Athens
Intermediate Olympics a commentary on the state of Greek women’s physical
education and participation in sport. The same journal also promoted particular
constructions of femininity that were perceived as in keeping with ancient Greek
traditions and values, thus inventing a Greek female athletic tradition and at the same
time re-affirming the historical continuity of the nation. Many women active in the
Ladies’ Journal were also involved in the establishment of the Lyceum of Greek
Women in 1911. This group was extensively involved in staging large-scale
spectacular reconstructions of facets of Greek antiquity in the form of parades and
dances. The female body was on these occasions the conduit whereby perceptions of
Greekness were re-enacted. By the early twentieth century, ‘traditions’ of the nation
were thus articulated in feminist literature and performed in front of a mass
audience.
The so-called Delphic festivals constitute another prominent instance of
spectacular display of Hellenic historical continuity during the inter-war period.
These festivals were conducted at the archaeological site of Delphi, a famous ancient
interstate oracle sanctuary, in 1927 and 1930 at the initiative of the Greek poet
Angelos Sikelianos and his American-born wife Eva Palmer-Sikelianos. The
organizers’ social and cultural standing, combined with their persistent efforts to
promote their so-called ‘Delphic Idea’, guaranteed that the events conducted in
Delphi received wide publicity at the time. Fuelled partly by romantic ideas of the
survival of the true ancient Greek ‘spirit’ among the contemporary inhabitants of the
Greek countryside, as well as by the notion of the intrinsic superiority of the Greek
race, the Sikelianos’ couple and their associates put up a motley display of athletic
contests, scholarly lectures and theatrical performances. Even though the endeavour
was short-lived (it was not repeated after 1930), it is important, among others, in that
it is representative of bourgeois attitudes towards classical antiquity and its reception
in the first half of the twentieth century.
Glytzouris’ paper examines how the staging of the chorus in the performances of
Aeschylus’ Prometheus Bound and Suppliant Women tragedies during the 1927 and
1930 Delphic festivals articulated perceptions of ancient Greek revival and national
historical continuity. He documents how, in an instance of obsequious adherence to

representations in late archaic and early classical (late sixth – early fifth-centuries BC)
black and red-figure vases, ancient visual evidence provided the basis for the
extremely complicated and cumbersome choreography. Despite the numerous
practical difficulties involved and the dubious results, it was believed by the
organizers and many spectators that the performances in question re-enacted ancient
Greek theatre in its true, original form. The same notion permeated the conduct of
other physical events of the Delphic festivals, including the athletic contests (which
were presented by the organizers as a ‘response’ to the increasingly misguided, as they
perceived it, modern sports movement) and the performance of the ‘pyrrhic’ dance,
an ancient Greek dance which was re-enacted for the occasion.
Glytzouris acknowledges the debt that large-scale events like the Delphic festivals
owed to the early twentieth century extravagant performances of the Lyceum of
Greek Women in the Panathenaic stadium in Athens. It can be argued that the
Lyceum’s festivals created a blueprint of spectacular representation of Greek
historical continuity that was welcomed, adopted and exploited by Greek authorities
in the twentieth century. This was especially the case for nationalist spectacles
conducted under the auspices of the totalitarian regimes of Metaxas and the 1967–
1974 military junta (also known as the ‘colonels’ dictatorship). Van Steen’s paper
constitutes the first scholarly attempt to interpret the spectacles conducted in the
Panathenaic stadium in Athens during the colonels’ dictatorship. While borrowing
extensively from the themes of Hellenic nationalism established by the Lyceum and
the Metaxas period spectacles, the military leaders were keen to portray a more
‘militarized’ version of Greek bodily culture and historical past. Recreated mostly
through a series of re-enactments of famous historical battles, which terminated with
the ‘victory’ of the dictators themselves over their largely imaginary communist foes,
the main historical agent that emerges from these series of spectacles is the Greek
virile and valorous male, that is, the prototype of patriotic soldier. In this way,
masculinity and physical exertion are made to conform to the ideals that the regime
leaders espoused and promoted.
The collapse of the junta and the restoration of parliamentary democracy in 1974
ushered a period of relative political and social stability as well as a multifaceted
growth of the field of sport. With particular reference to the issues examined in this
volume, during the period in question nationalist fervour as well as references to the
ancient Greek athletic ‘pedigree’ accompanied sport on every suitable occasion, for
example, the successes of Greek clubs or individual athletes in international
competitions. Yet this recent version of Greek athletic antiquarianism was more
emphatically stressed on the occasion of the engagement of Greece, first as a
candidate and then as a host, of the Olympic Games. Little noted at the time,
Konstantinos Karamanlis’ [7] 1976 proposal to hold the modern Olympics
permanently in Olympia became in the late 1980s and 1990s the banner of Greek
efforts to ‘repatriate’ the IOC summer Olympics. Following an abortive bid for the
1996 summer games, in 1997 the IOC awarded the 2004 summer games to Athens.
The 2004 summer Olympics were without a doubt a pivotal moment in Greece’s

modern sport history. Several aspects of these games, including the staging of events
in or around portentous archaeological sites (Olympia, Marathon) as well as the
rhetoric of the return of the games to their ‘birthplace’, quite vividly highlighted the
persistent link between Greek antiquity and modern Greek sport. [8] What was
particular about the 2004 summer games was that the Hellenic continuity discourse,
whose prominence is usually confined to the Greek nation-state, was for the first time
projected on a global stage. This was because the 2004 Olympics were perceived by
the Greek organizers as an opportunity to propagate to a massive audience what has
been accepted in Greece as an unquestionable historical orthodoxy.
Within this context, the torch-relay of the Olympic flame took pride of place.
Invented in connection with the 1936 Berlin Olympics, the lighting of the flame
ceremony in Olympia and the subsequent torch-relay have been perceived by the
Greek public as proof of the ancient origins of the modern games as well as tokens of
the symbolic debt that the world owes to Greece as the inventor of Olympism. Until
2004, the ceremony and torch-relay had received limited publicity outside Greece and
the country hosting the games. The torch-relay itself was conducted partially in
Greece and partially in the host country. But for the Athens 2004 games, the
organizing committee upped the stakes considerably by initiating a worldwide torch-
relay that was to pass through all the countries that have ever hosted modern
Olympics as well as other places of interest. Hence in a single stroke, the audience and
global interest on the torch-relay and its ancient Greek symbolism was massively
enlarged.
In her paper, E. Yalouri dissects aspects of the meanings and perceptions generated
in Greece by the Olympic flame and the torch-relay of the 2004 summer Games. As
she points out,
by tracing [the flame’s] mobility, and by following the variable meanings attributed
to it at different times and places, the flame can guide us in the exploration of
aspects of the social relationships and the negotiations of power in which it is
involved or plays a leading part. (p. 2156)
Appropriating aspects of the Hellenic historical continuity discourse, the flame

lighting ceremony in ancient Olympia and the worldwide torch-relay were
persistently portrayed as integral parts of the proclaimed ‘homecoming’ of the
Games to Greece, a claim that emphasized and legitimized in the eyes of its advocates
the link between ancient and modern Games as well as their indisputable ‘Greekness’.
This perception clearly emerges from Yalouri’s analysis of the coverage of the 2004
Athens Games in the Greek media as well as from the results of her fieldwork research
in Greece before and during the games.
Nonetheless, the use of Greek past as symbolic capital in the process of legitimizing
the hosting of the 2004 summer Games was far from unanimous. In Greece, various
dissonant voices expressed their concerns regarding continuously increasing costs
and other logistical issues. Moreover, some quarters opposed the idea of hosting the

2004 Games on the grounds of their extreme commodification which, the same
quarters argued, was against the ancient ‘spirit’ of the games. Such views are closely
connected to the perception of classical antiquity as ‘inalienable wealth’ that needs to
remain untainted from commercialism and feed a recurring Greek debate over the
‘debased’ nature of the modern Olympics that many Greeks, as self-perceived creators
of Olympism, feel entitled to conduct. This was especially the case in 2004, the year
that, in addition to the summer Olympics in Athens, the Greek soccer national team
unexpectedly won the European nations cup, thus spurring countrywide jubilation
and uninhibited invocations of Greek (ancient and modern) athletic valour and
superiority.
Thus, we have come full circle since the timid but prophetic early nineteenth
century attempts to revive the ancient Olympics and thus resurrect the ‘nation’. For
almost two centuries, the integration of ancient Greek symbolism in national
ideology, including in the field of sport, has partly compensated for the modern
Greek deficiencies in the fields of politics, economy and technology. There is nothing
in sight to suggest that the situation will change soon. In the midst of an
unprecedented fiscal crisis, Greeks celebrated on 19 April 2010 the annual
‘Phillelenism’ day. On this occasion, in the peroration of his speech presented in
the parliament, the majority spokesman stressed that ‘the debt of the civilized world
to the land of science, freedom, democracy and the arts, is a debt that can never be
repaid’. [9] The allusions to ancient Greece are unmistakable. Antiquity in the service
of nationalism is here to stay. [10]
Acknowledgements
The editors of this volume wish to express their sincere thanks to Professor Mangan
for giving them the opportunity to publish this collection of essays as well as for his
constant guidance and encouragement. They also extend sincere thanks to all the
contributors for their hard work and professionalism.
Notes
[1] See Kaldellis, Hellenism in Byzantium.; idem, The Christian Parthenon.
[2] For a survey of early modern western visitors’ attitudes on Greeks see, for example,
Constantine, Early Greek Travellers; Stoneman, Land of Lost Gods; Yakovaki, Europi meso
Elladas.
[3] See, for example, Politis, Romantika hronia; Gazi, Scientific National History.
[4] See, for example, Athanassopoulou, ‘An ‘‘Ancient’’ Landscape’; Hamilakis, The Nation and
its Ruins.
[5] Van Steen, Venom in Verse.
[6] Decker, Praeludium Olympicum. A few years after the early calls for an Olympic revival
Evangelis Zappas, a wealthy Greek diaspora merchant, bequeathed a legacy for the
establishment of Olympic Games. The so-called ‘Zappas Olympics’ were conducted in 1859,
1870, 1875 and 1889 with various degrees of success. See Young, The Modern Olympics;
Koulouri, ‘On the Path to Revival’.

[7] The patriarch of Greek conservatives in post Second World War Greece. Served several terms
as Prime Minister, before and after the colonels’ dictatorship, as well as two terms as
President. Karamanlis made in 1980 a renewed call, which was received more sympathetically
in the aftermath of the 1980 Moscow Olympics boycott, for ancient Olympia to permanently
host the modern Olympics. See Rich, ‘The Legal Regime for a Permanent Olympic Site’,
especially 3–9.
[8] Even though Olympic Games existed in the ancient Greek world, they comprised a
significantly different set of activities and meanings compared to the modern IOC Olympics.
Hence to claim that the modern Olympic Games are somehow a continuation of the ancient
games is at the very least problematic. Similar attitudes, which have been adopted
enthusiastically since the late nineteenth century by promoters of the modern Olympic
movement around the globe, are symptomatic of a wider tendency to overlook aspects of the
history of ancient Olympics in order to make them conform to modern presuppositions.
Examples of this trend include the modern ideology of athletic amateurism or the recent
initiatives for the establishment of an Olympic truce, both of which were presumably
inspired by ancient Greek practices but which are in fact based on distorted readings of the
ancient games. For amateurism see Young, The Olympic Myth of Greek Amateur Athletics; for
the Olympic truce see especially Golden, Greek Sport and Social Status, 136–9.
[9] Quotation from the official transcript of the speech, posted at http://www.cpapoutsis.gr/
Document.aspx?ID¼1128 (accessed 19 April 2010).
[10] My thanks are due to this volume’s co-editor, Professor Eleni Fournaraki, for her assistance
in the preparation of the Prologue as well as for her professionalism, enthusiasm and
commitment to this project. Regarding the Greek primary source material and scholarly
works, an attempt has been made throughout the volume to make them partially accessible
to a wider audience through transliteration and translation of titles. Given the complexities
of Greek grammar, no universally agreed rules for transliterating Greek characters into Latin-
based alphabetic characters exist. Hence individual authors were given latitude in
transliterating the Greek materials they used.
References
Athanassopoulou, E. ‘An ‘‘Ancient’’ Landscape: European Ideals, Archaeology, and Nation Building
in Early Modern Greece’. Journal of Modern Greek Studies 20 (2002): 273–305.
Constantine, D. Early Greek Travellers and the Hellenic Ideal. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge
University Press, 1984.
Decker, W. Praeludium Olympicum. Das Memorandum des Jahres 1835 von Innenminister Ioannis
Kolettis an König Otto I. von Griechenland über ein Nationalfest mit öffentlichen Spielen nach
dem Muster der antiken panhellenischen Agone. Hildesheim: Weidmann, 2006.
Gazi, E. Scientific National History: The Greek Case in Comparative Perspective (1850–1920).
Frankfurt am Main and New York: Peter Lang, 2000.
Golden, M. Greek Sport and Social Status. University of Texas Press: Austin, 2008.
Hamilakis, Y. The Nation and its Ruins: Antiquity, Archaeology, and National Imagination in Greece.
Oxford: Oxford University Press 2007.
Kaldellis, A. Hellenism in Byzantium. The Transformations of Greek Identity and the Reception of the
Classical Tradition. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007.
Kaldellis, A. The Christian Parthenon: Classicism and Pilgrimage in Byzantine Athens. Cambridge
and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009.
Koulouri, C. ‘On the Path to Revival’. In Athens in the Late Nineteenth Century. The First
International Olympic Games, edited by A. Solomou-Prokopiou and I. Vogiatzi, 13–43.
Athens: Historical and Ethnological Society of Greece, 2004: 13–43.

Politis, A. Romantika hronia. Ideologies kai nootropies stin Ellada tou 1830–1880 [Romantic Years.
Ideologies and Mentalities in Greece 1830–1880]. Athens: EMNE-Mnimon, 1998.
Rich, F. ‘The Legal Regime for a Permanent Olympic Site’. Journal of International Law and Politics
15 (1982): 3–53.
Stoneman, R. Land of Lost Gods: The Search for Classical Greece. Norman: University of Oklahoma
Press, 1987.
Van Steen, G. Venom in Verse: Aristophanes in Modern Greece. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press, 2000.
Yakovaki, N. Europi meso Helladas: Mia kampi stin europaiki autosyneidisi 17os-18os aionas [Europe
via Greece: A Turning Point in European Consciousness, 17th–18th Century]. Athens: Hestia,
2006.
Young, D. The Olympic Myth of Greek Amateur Athletics. Chicago: Ares, 1984.
Young, D. The Modern Olympics: A Struggle for Revival. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press,
1996.

From Antiquity to Olympic Revival:

Sports and Greek National
Historiography (Nineteenth –
Twentieth Centuries)
Christina Koulouri
This study investigates the evolution of the historiography of Greek sport from the
foundation of the Greek state (1830) until 1982 and its links with Greek national history,
which also took shape primarily during the nineteenth century. The gradual
‘nationalisation’ of sport as an element of Greek national character since antiquity
corresponded to changes in perceptions of the national past reflected in historiography.
The ancient Olympic Games, Byzantine contests and exercises, the competitions of the
klephts and armatoloi (militia soldiers) during the Ottoman rule and the modern
revival of the Olympic Games were all successively integrated in a national history of
sport confirming national continuity and unity. However this particular genre of
national historiography did not gain academic recognition until recently. The authors of
histories of physical exercise and sport were amateurs or physical education instructors
and could not ensure to their work the authority of a separate discipline.
Introduction
In 1830, when the Greek state was founded after a successful war of independence
against the Ottoman Empire, the first interest – albeit marginal – in physical exercise
on medical and pedagogic grounds had already emerged. At the same time, the idea
of the revival of the Olympic Games was already current. [1] The publication, mainly
in Western Europe, of works by ancient Greek authors had also revealed ancient
Greek culture to modern Greeks, who felt linked to it as descendants. Consequently,
in the late eighteenth century the interest which was aroused in the ancient Greek
past as that of ‘ancestral history’ was virtually self-evident. During the nineteenth
century, a coherent interpretation of national history in conjunction with the
10

building up of the Greek national identity emerged. Physical exercise constituted one
of the minor constituents of the ‘invented’ national past. [2]
In the second half of the nineteenth century interest in modern sports of Western
origin developed, sports clubs and gymnasiums were set up and contests began to be
held in the capital Athens as well as in the major urban centres. From the 1870s
onwards, the demand for the introduction of gymnastics into the school curriculum
was voiced more systematically and the professional group of physical education
teachers, who from 1882 trained in special colleges, took shape. Since the
establishment in Athens in 1884 of the first provisional ‘School of Gymnasts’ a
‘History of Gymnastics’ course was included in all the curricula of the physical
education colleges. The four Zappas Olympics (1859, 1870, 1875, 1889) consolidated
the idea of athletic contests conducted on the ancient Greek model in a modern
setting. However, the turning-point for Greek sport is definitely the year 1896 when
the first international Olympic Games were celebrated in Athens. This milestone had
a decisive influence on the history of Greek sport, both academic – articulated by
historians, archaeologists and physical educators – and amateur – practised by
scholars, journalists and figures in the world of sport. A basic consequence has been
the disproportionately large place occupied by the Olympic Games in the history of
Greek sport, and an imbalance in favour of antiquity.
Moreover, given that the history of sport was regularly taught in physical education
colleges, the relevant literature was inevitably bound up with the development of these
educational institutions: from being secondary education institutions they became
tertiary higher education establishments (1929), and, finally, university departments
(1982). Throughout almost the entire twentieth century, those concerned with the
history of athletics have been almost exclusively either physical education teachers or
figures in the world of sport, and it was only on the occasion of Olympic events (or of
bids for them) that this interest had also touched representatives of the intelligentsia and
academia with no direct connection with sport. The year 1982 has been chosen as a
terminus ante quem for a review of the history of Greek sport; it was in this year that the
Departments of Physical Education and Sport were set up, marking an important point
in the development of the history of physical education and sport: increased teaching
needs in these departments created an increased demand for textbooks on the subject;
student essays, postgraduate and doctoral theses were produced. Furthermore, the
ensuing period (1982–2004) was marked by a plethora of publications on the occasion,
on the one hand, of the centenary of the first Olympic Games in Athens (1996), and, on
the other, of the Olympics of 2004.
In the present study, an attempt will be made to investigate the content of the
history of Greek sport since the foundation of the modern Greek state and how sport
historiography is linked with Greek national history, which also took shape primarily
during the nineteenth century. The history of sport may include the history of
physical education (linked with the wider development and history of education), the
history of the Olympic Games (the ancient Games and their modern revival), and the
history of sports (as social and cultural history but also as history of sports clubs and
11

particular events). Nevertheless, these three subcategories can have entirely different
characteristics and a clearly discrete function in relation to national historiography.
Furthermore, a basic question which will be examined is how far national
historiography incorporates sport into its narrative and how it is connected with
the national history of sport.
The History of the Greek Nation

The most recent synthetic History of the Greek Nation, [3] published in the 1970s and
covering Greek history from antiquity to the present articulates the basic, dominant
paradigm with regard to the position of sport within the framework of Greek
national history. Sport as such is to be found only in Volumes II to VI on antiquity
(up to the Roman period). By way of contrast, in the three volumes which cover
Byzantine history (VII–IX), the only discussion of the subject fills just four pages and
it is only peripherally related to sport. It deals with the demoi as political institutions
and analyses their transformation from ‘originally, organised popular groupings of an
athletic character’ into political organizations. [4] As far as the modern period is
concerned merely one page – out of a total of six volumes – is devoted to the Athens
Olympic Games of 1896. [5]
The chapters on antiquity were written by archaeologists, [6] and represent the
ancient games and athletics in general as a feature of the Greek national identity. More
specifically, it is stated that the ‘spirit of competition’ is ‘closely bound up with the
idiosyncrasy of the Hellene’, [7] while the unifying function of the games is also noted:
The contribution of the panhellenic contests, and particularly of the Olympic

Games, to the political history of Hellenism and the shaping of the national
consciousness was invaluable. The Greeks scattered throughout the Mediterranean
region and living next to barbarous nations became aware through their
participation in the games that they were members of the same nation whose
heart beat at Olympia. [8]
Moreover, during the Hellenistic and Roman periods athletic festivals and the
gymnasia are represented as fulfilling a double role: on the one hand, they were
vehicles of a ‘civilising process’ through the ‘imposition and inculcation of Greek
civilisation among other nations’, and, on the other, in preserving the Greek national
identity in a period of political weakening of the Hellenes. [9] It is in this particular
chapter that we find the sole account in the entire History in which ancient athletic
meetings are compared with those of modern times:
The character of the local athletic-religious festivals of ancient times has been
retained down to our own times in the form of the later and contemporary fairs
[panegyria]. And not only has the very ancient word ‘panegyris’ been retained intact
[. . .] but the occasions and basic reasons for the institution have remained
unchanged. [10]
12

This kind of interpretation of sport and the Olympic Games in antiquity was
introduced into Greek national historiography by Constantinos Paparrhigopoulos
(1815–1891), [11] a leading exponent of romantic historiography, and professor
of history at the University of Athens. It is worth noting that the discoveries of
archaeological and literary research in the twentieth century are used in the History of
the Greek Nation volumes to confirm and not to call into question the interpretative
schema which Paparrhigopoulos composed on the basis of a few primary data and a
secondary bibliography. In his five-volume History of the Greek Nation (1861–1874),
Paparrhigopoulos writes that the Panhellenic games were ‘the strongest moral and
social bond’ which linked the entire Greek nation. [12] He concludes:
If at that time the Greek nation lacked common political governance, nevertheless
the moral and social ties by which it was bound together were so many and of such
a nature that of modern states, only France perhaps can be reckoned as having the
national unity of ancient Greece. [13]
This paragraph sums up the basic position of romantic national historiography on

Greek antiquity: in spite of the absence of political unity, there was, however, national
(i.e. cultural) unity. It was meant as a response to the dominant schema of the
nationalist ideology of the nineteenth century, according to which the existence of a
nation is confirmed through its integration in a state, and, consequently, if ancient
Greece was not a unified state entity, it could not have formed a unified national group.
The romantic historian is therefore, dissociating national from political existence.
Paparrhigopoulos’s positions had, of course, incorporated the views of foreign
historians, who had been writing histories of ancient Greece since the late eighteenth
century. The 1821 Greek War of Independence undoubtedly served as a catalyst for
the writing of a ‘systematic history of ancient Greece’, [14] with the result that during
the first half of the nineteenth century noteworthy compilations on ancient Greek
history, written by German and British historians, were published. However, the
work which exerted the greatest influence on his age and which influenced
Paparrhigopoulos himself was the History of Greece by the British liberal banker and
Member of Parliament George Grote (1794–1871), which was published in 12
volumes in London between 1846 and 1856. [15] Already in 1853, in the short History
which he wrote for use in schools, Paparrhigopoulos adopted the distinction made by
Grote between mythical and historical Greece, and used the year 776 BC (when the
names of the Olympic victors began to be recorded) as a starting-point for Greek
history. It was, in any event, precisely this distinction which he employed in his
extensive, multi-volumed History. Paparrhigopoulos thus, adopted Grote’s metho-
dological proposal which maintained that history should be written in the light of a
painstaking study of the sources. Nevertheless, because of his monarchist sympathies,
he did not agree with Grote over the British historian’s admiration for Athenian
democracy and his critical assessment of Philip and Alexander.
It is, however, important for the place of ancient athletics in historical narrative
that 776 BC was chosen by Paparrhigopoulos as the starting-point of Greek history, a
13

fact that underscores the significance of the Olympic Games in national self-
definition. Moreover, as early as 1853 in his first school edition of the History of the
Greek Nation the same historian includes physical exercise among the constituents of
the national character. [16]
Nonetheless, if in Paparrhigopoulos’s History of the Greek Nation physical exercise
finds its place in the narrative of ancient Greek history, the same cannot be said of
medieval and modern history. More specifically, there are brief, scattered references
within the framework of the continuity of the Greek nation established by the
‘national historiographer’. On the basis of this pattern, in the Hellenistic period,
Greek civilization, including athletic ‘panegyreis’, was disseminated in the East. [17]
In the medieval period, these contests found their continuation in the hippodrome of
Constantinople. Paparrhigopoulos writes:
The hippodrome represents most accurately all the features of which medieval
Hellenism was composed, because you could see there Roman and Eastern and
pagan and, above all, Greek traditions. [18]
For the period of Ottoman rule, Paparrhigopoulos uses Fauriel to describe the
‘private life, so to speak’ of the klephts (bandits): ‘in their hours of leisure, these
men trained themselves above all by means of various exercises useful to their
occupation’. [19]
Thus, in Paparrhigopoulos’s work the basic positions on continuity of physical
exercise from antiquity to the present day are to be found in an embryonic state. It
remains for us to examine whether these views were shared by his contemporaries,
whether there were already, before Paparrhigopoulos, relevant publications, and how
these positions evolved in the twentieth century thus, leading to the paradigm put
forward by the History of the 1970s.
Historical Continuity and National Unity

Spyridon Lambros (1851–1919), professor of Ancient History at the University of
Athens and an exponent of historical positivism in Greece in the late nineteenth
century, [20] was the history professor with the most connections with sport and the
one who systematically linked the national idea with the athletic ideal. President of
the Panhellenic Gymnastic Club (1896–1898), first President of the Union of Greek
Sports and Gymnastics Clubs (1897–1905), General Secretary of the Hellenic
Olympic Committee (1903–1917), Honorary President of the Travellers’ Club
(founded in 1899), Lambros was also a member of the Committee for the Preparation
of Greek Athletes for the Olympic Games of 1896, and of the Organizing Committee
of the Intermediate Olympic Games of 1906. [21] A devout royalist in the period of
the National Schism, he was sworn in by King Constantine as Prime Minister and
Minister of Education (1916–1917), but then when the Venizelists came to power he
was dismissed from the University, was exiled, and finally fell ill and died.
14

This multi-faceted activity of Lambros and his institutional involvement with

Greek sport raises the question of whether these are reflected in his work as a scholar.
To answer this question one should take into account an elementary distinction
between the historian’s overall output of both academic and popular works.
In spite of his criticism of other parts of Paparrhigopoulos’s work, [22] Lambros
confirms the paradigm on the place of sport in Greek national history which
Paparrhigopoulos had elaborated. Whereas Paparrhigopoulos wrote his History with
reference to Grote, Lambros chose to translate, some 30 years after its first
publication, a work of history which was a reply to Grote, [23] namely the Greek
History of the German scholar Ernst Curtius. Although it was already outdated,
[24] the work of Curtius was a respectable point of reference because the author
had been associated with the excavation of ancient Olympia. Having expressed the
demand for this undertaking in his famous speech in Berlin in 1852, it was Curtius
who directed the excavations from 1874 to 1881 by virtue of an inter-state
agreement between Germany and Greece. According to Lambros, the chief merit of
the work was ‘the explanation of the ancient Greek world by comparison with the
modern’, and ‘the perception of Hellenism as a single unity, retaining the national
character, the language, and the customs unaffected by the various vicissitudes, in
the same natural environment through the ages’. [25] With regard to sport, the
work of Curtius contains the basic position which constitutes a commonplace in
the Greek national historiography that the ancient games were not only a
constituent of ancient Greek civilization but above all, a factor for national unity.
The sentence which sums up the overarching spirit of the German professor’s
History is typical:
Thus developed the concept of Hellenic and national education, which more than
anything else distinguishes the Greeks from the barbarians both of ancient and
modern times, and has to do equally with the body and the soul. [26]
In his own six-volume History of Greece, which he published almost in parallel with
the translation of Curtius, Lambros adopts the position that the panhellenic games
were a factor for unity of the ancient Greeks, regardless of differences and quarrels
which may have existed between them. Lambros writes:
In spite of the division of the Hellenes into tribes, in spite of the quarrels which
divided the cities and the wars which tore them apart, the Greeks had the sense of a
common origin and, in the absence of political unity, a moral unity with its basis in
the identity of the language, the similar nature of the customs, the affinity of
religion, the shared institutions, the oracles, the amphictyonies and the games
stemming from religion. [27]
The concept of unity, in space and time, occupied a central place in Greek national
historiography of the nineteenth century. It was a concept since the mid-nineteenth
century and was bound up with the Megali Idea (Great Idea): the unity which had
15

characterized the Greek nation during the course of its history was a desideratum for
the future, since in the present the Greek nation was seen as divided between the free
state and the enslaved Greeks of the Ottoman Empire. The concept of unity had an
additional aspect: it served as a reply to the stereotype of discord as a feature of the
character of the Greek nation, a stereotype which was to be reinforced by Greek civil
strife in the twentieth century. National historiography thus, undertook a task of
proof: to discover over time all those features which constituted the bonds of unity of
the Greek nation.
Spyridon Lambros recognized the centrality of sport in the life of the ancient
Greeks. [28] Nevertheless, as far as other historical periods are concerned, in the
many volumes of his History, he did not attach a great importance to sport and
physical exercise – merely a few pages that deal with gymnastics and athletic contests.
In his coverage of the Roman period he states very briefly that the Greeks retained
their language and other features of their national identity such as athletic games, but
for the Byzantine period there is no such reference. The description of the Byzantine
hippodrome contains no ‘athletic’ element, as it is seen as ‘a place of spectacles, and
[. . .] the last relic of the ancient agora’. [29]
Hence Lambros does not incorporate sport organically in his historical narrative in
the History of Greece, except in the period of antiquity. In light of his popular articles,
however, one could argue that he adopts and projects the concept of the continuity of
Greek sport. But this tends to be a view which, contrary to the principles of positivist
historical method which he served, is not documented by sources and primary
research. Sport was not for this important historian a self-contained object of
historical research and elaboration, except on the occasion of the revival of the
Olympic Games.
It is a fact that, whereas the first reference to physical exercise in a text by Lambros
is dated to 1870, [30] he was to deal systematically with the subject of exercise in
ancient times only on the occasion of the first IOC Olympic Games in Athens
(decision on revival, and holding of the Games, 1894–1896). His views on the
historical continuity of physical exercise were expressed in texts composed in the
years 1895–1897. [31] It is clearly no accident that this was the same period in which
he published both his own History of Greece and the translation of the ancient history
by Curtius. In the same spirit, then, as in those two works the ancient Olympic
Games are perceived as a means of forging the ‘national idea’, so that the athletes of
Olympia would also be the victors in the Persian Wars. The linking of athletic
contests with military success was an integral feature in the thinking of Lambros, who
publicly supported Greek irredentist visions. Furthermore, his greatest success as a
historian was ‘in turning the concept of the national locus into a methodological and
even historiographical principle’. [32] His famous words are well-known:
There is truly no solidarity greater than that between the desk of the historian and
the tent of the military camp. Over both flies one and the same flag, the flag of the
homeland. [33]
16

After the defeat in the Greek-Ottoman war of 1897, Lambros was among the
most fervent supporters of the introduction of physical education as a compulsory
subject in primary education based on the example of the German physical
education model, which he judged to be the most suitable for the preparation of
the nation for war. [34]
Exercise in Ancient Greece and Greek National Identity

Having analysed the work of the two most important Greek historians of the
nineteenth century (Paparrhigopoulos and Lambros), we may conclude that sport
was not promoted into a central subject for national history, but was incorporated
into the schema of continuity of the Greek nation as a forger of identity. To attempt a
subtle semantic distinction, one could argue that sport in Greek national
historiography does not have an ‘athletic’ but an exclusively cultural content, and
is limited to antiquity. Furthermore, it is not a matter pertaining to the history of
physical exercise in general, but only to the ancient games – chiefly the Olympic
Games.
The fact that the history of physical exercise focuses on, and is in part exhausted
by, antiquity and the games is confirmed by a large number of nineteenth-century
publications. Since the emergence of classics as an academic subject in early
modern Europe, there had been an international interest in antiquity which was
partly translated in a spate of international publications on the subject. Many of
these studies had been extensively used by Greek writers. Ancient Greek history was
written primarily in the West, while for some time and with few exceptions Greek
intellectuals did not concern themselves systematically with the study of ancient
Greece. [35] In any event, many works were translated into Greek before original
studies by Greek researchers had been published. In the nineteenth century, apart
from Curtius’s History, the ancient histories of Oliver Goldsmith, Christopher
Irving, Thomas Keightley, Victor Duruy, L. P. Ségur, Johann Gustav Droysen and
Otto Abel were translated into Greek, some of them for school use. [36] At the
same time, archaeological excavations and the development of archaeology
constantly supplied new evidence for physical exercise in antiquity. As a matter
of fact it was archaeology, much more than ancient history, that formed the basis
for the development of the history of ancient physical exercise. Finally, the revival
of the Olympic Games in the late nineteenth century and the development of the
Olympic movement gave a new boost to the study of the ancient games at an
international level.
For modern Greece, antiquity was shrouded with an unrivalled prestige and served
as a model in every sphere. The reference to the ancestral relation with the ancient
Hellenes supplied the modern Greeks with self-confidence and provided them with
the ‘passport’ [37] to acceptability in the family of modern ‘civilised’ nations. As a
result, the high value attached to antiquity combined with the centrality of the
concept of historical continuity led to an increasing number of scholarly publications
17

on ancient Greece at the expense of other historical periods. The great loser were the
Middle Ages. But we will return to this matter later.
As early as the time of the Renaissance, the publication of Pausanias’
‘Description of Greece’ [38] and of the Victory Odes of Pindar widely disseminated
knowledge of the ancient games and the sites where they were held. In the
sixteenth- and seventeenth-centuries, Western travellers were attracted by Greece
indirectly, through their ‘travel to the Levante’. The ‘travel to Greece’ itself was
initiated in the eighteenth century. Actually, since the second half of the eighteenth
century the European intelligentsia were fascinated by ancient art and classical
civilization in general. Editions of ancient authors and popularizing works
supplying knowledge of antiquity co-existed with travellers’ and philhellenic texts.
The building up of the notion of the ‘Greek origin of Europe’, which means the
conception as virtually ‘self-evident’ of the affinity between ancient Greece and
modern Europe, created the framework for the acceptance in Greece itself of
ancient Greece ‘via Europe’. [39]
Reference to the Olympic Games as a part of Greek national history can be
identified in books on Greece published in Europe since the end of the eighteenth
century. In 1796, Georgios Sakellarios published in Vienna his Concise Archaeology of
the Hellenes, with an extensive account of the Olympic Games. Moreover, the
following year Rigas, a leading figure in the Greek and Balkan Enlightenment,
published a translation of the theatre play ‘The Olympia’ by Pietro Metastasio, [40] a
work chosen precisely for its subject, the Olympic Games, which alluded to the
glory of ancient Greece. As Spyridon Lambros remarked, almost a century later,
‘Rigas considered that an account of the Olympic Games contributed to rise of the
nation no less than military preparations, and this is why he translated Metastasio’s
drama’. [41]
In his introduction, Rigas produces in an elementary form the schema of the
linkage of ancient and modern sport which was to mark later Greek historiography.
On the one hand, he writes that ‘these contests were celebrated by our forefathers’,
and, on the other, that ‘the foot race, wrestling, discus-throwing, the long-jump, the
pankration have been practised up to the present in Thessaly and in the whole of
Greece’. [42] Similar comments were made by Grigorios Paliouritis, who in 1815
published in Venice a Greek Archaeology, which contained a special chapter on the
ancient panhellenic games (Olympic, Pythian, Nemean, Isthmian). Paliouritis
compares the ancient games with the fairs held in his own time celebrated on the
name-day of various saints, at which lambs and fish were awarded as prizes to the
victors. He also compares the ancient events – wrestling, races, long-jump, throwing –
with those held at these Christian fairs. [43] The comparison of the ancient events
with the events of the period of Ottoman rule and the acknowledgement of an affinity
between them was so influential that in fact constitutes a recurring feature of the
Greek sports historiography until the present day.
After the founding of the Greek state (1830), the history of sport was closely
connected with the concern with physical education as part of the school curriculum,
18

on the one hand and the process of the revival of the Olympic Games on the other.
The reference to antiquity operated in a legitimizing way in both instances. In the
case of physical education, the innovative proposal for the introduction of gymnastics
into the school curriculum was able to draw arguments from the ancient Greek
model of kalokagathia. In a speech delivered in 1855 and which was entitled Address
on gymnastics of the body as a part of perfect education with the ancients the physician
and professor at the University of Athens Georgios A. Makkas called upon the Greeks
of his time to follow the ancient example and establish gymnastics as a basic feature
of the education of the youth. Gymnastics, according to Makkas, has pedagogic,
therapeutic and preventive qualities.
In the case of the revival of the Olympic Games, the imitation of the ancient
example took on the characteristics of a national renaissance. ‘The idea of a national
renaissance through exercises on the Archaic model’ [44] was part of the overall
renaissance of the Greek nation since the war of independence. If 1821 marked the
moment of the Greek renaissance after centuries of ‘slavery’, 1896 also marked
the Olympic renaissance after the abolition of the Olympic Games in 394 AD by the
Emperor Theodosius. The idea of the Olympic renaissance was initially linked with
the national renaissance. In 1834, the poet Panaghiotis Soutsos, as adviser to the
Minister of the Interior, Ioannis Kolettis, composed a memorandum in which he
proposed the holding of annual panhellenic festivals on the model of antiquity (the
Isthmian, Nemean, Pythian, Olympic Games) in order to honour the renaissance of
Greece through the Revolution of 1821. [45] The concept of renaissance was in fact of
pivotal importance for Greek identity and for the representation of the national past.
It is worth recalling that the official opening of the first Olympic Games took place on
a date which combined two traditional Greek holidays, that is, Orthodox Easter
Sunday and Greek Independence Day (25 March 1896, date according to the Julian
calendar). Both Easter Sunday and Independence Day made reference to the concept
of the resurrection of the nation.
With reference to the period 1830 to 1896 there are two works which correspond
par excellence to the two aspects of development of the history of sport, that is,
physical education and the revival of the Olympic Games, respectively: the Summary
of Gymnastics (i.e. Physical Exercise) by Georgios Pagon (Athens 1837) and the
French edition of the work ‘On Gymnastics’ of Philostratus by Minas Minoidis,
published in 1858. [46]
The book by Pagon, who had studied in Munich and had been influenced by
the German gymnastics system of Guts Muths and of Jahn, was the first Greek
book on gymnastics. Despite the fact that the ambition of the Summary of
Gymnastics was to become a handbook on physical exercise training with practical
instructions for teachers, Pagon included facts from the history of sport, and in
the final chapter described the ancient games at Nemea, the Isthmus and in
Olympia. [47] The history of gymnastics, according to Pagon, runs parallel to the
history of mankind: ‘Physical exercise is as old as the human race’. [48] His
discussion of ancient Greek sport includes references to Homer, Minos, Lycurgus,
19

Solon and Plato, while the content of athletic training in antiquity is described.
The conclusion is unequivocal:
What is stopping us from imitating the ancient Greeks (from whom we have learnt
so much!) in the art of physical exercise as well, and from introducing it for the
education of our young people? [49]
Minoidis published his book on the occasion of the first Zappas Olympics (1858),
[50] linking it in his epilogue ‘Concerning the establishment of the Olympic Games
in Greece’ with the argument in favour of a revival of the Olympic Games. Like
Pagon, Minoidis in his introduction notes that there were physical exercises not only
among the Greeks, ‘but among all the peoples of the world, even at the period when
man was in a savage state’. [51] The introduction ends with a lengthy description of
the ancient games and of the usefulness of physical education on the basis of Greek
mythology and ancient authors.
The emphasis on antiquity was reinforced in the ensuing decades by the German
excavations at Olympia and the discovery of the site of the ancient games. Up until
the inception of the excavations by the German Archaeological Institute in Olympia
in 1875, historians of the ancient Olympics relied almost exclusively on ancient
literary evidence. The archaeological campaigns and the detailed and scholarly
publication of their findings changed that picture and contributed to the tremendous
enrichment of the primary evidence available on the ancient Olympics. The book
Olympia and the Olympic Games by Dimitrios Papageorgiou, published in 1890, was
written in the context of these circumstances and aimed to serve as a visitor’s guide to
the antiquities at Olympia. Based on the model of modern tourist guides and with
references to the – always essential Pausanias, Papageorgiou compiled a compre-
hensive work in which he incorporated a history of the ancient Olympic Games. [52]
This history is inscribed within the ‘political history of Greece’, which he uses as a
reference for the division of Greek antiquity into historical periods. Furthermore, in
complete harmonization with the ancient Greek historiography of the period, the
high-school teacher from Pyrgos (in Peloponnese, near Olympia) projects the
national character of the games.
Even before the decision on the revival of the Olympic Games, the incorporation of
the ancient games into national history was a commonplace, as demonstrated by the
school textbooks of the period. As a typical example, we could cite the History of
Ancient Greece for primary schools by Alexandros A. Papandreou, [53] which was
published in 1893 and which devoted a relatively lengthy account to sport and
panhellenic games within the context of ancient Greek history:
The ancient Greeks, through their formation by physical exercises and the games, were
shown to be the best and most glorious men in the world. They fought heroically
against innumerable enemies; they vanquished them and saved the independence and
civilisation of their dear homeland, making it great and glorious. [54]
20

The First International Olympic Games in Athens (1896) and the National
‘Renaissance’
The decision to revive the Olympic Games and, above all, that they should be held in
Athens triggered a series of publications on the history of the Olympic Games which
systematized the views which had been expressed up to that point. In these
publications, the concept of national ‘renaissance’ and its associations with the
nation’s historical continuity held central stage.
A similar focus permeates the works published on the occasion of the Intermediate
Olympic Games of 1906, an event which was experienced in Greece as equivalent to
the Games of 1896. In many cases works which were first published in 1896 were
re-printed for the Intermediate Games. We shall not concern ourselves here with the
host of articles and books which describe the Games of 1896 but only with those
works which attempt a synthesis of the history of Greek sport.
The ‘official’ publication on the Olympic Games was entitled The Olympic Games
776 BC–1896. It was published in two volumes, one on the ancient games and one
on the Games of 1896, in four languages: Greek, French, English and German. The
authors were Coubertin himself along with the General Secretary of the Olympic
Games Committee, Timoleon Philemon, as well as Spyridon Lambros and Nikolaos
Politis, both professors at the University of Athens. This publication did not,
however, emphasise the continuity of sport down the centuries, but only the
relation of modern sport with antiquity. The first volume, dedicated to the ancient
Olympic games, consisted of merely two essays, one by Spyridon Lambros, in
which the ancient Olympic Games were described, and one by Nikolaos Politis, in
which there was a description of the site of ancient Olympia, as it has been revealed
following the German Archaeological Institute excavations. On the occasion of the
1896 Olympic games, emphasis was placed on the direct affinity between ancient
and modern Greece, without regard to the intermediate stages. Philemon’s words
are typical:
The modern International Athletic Games differ very little from those established
by the ancients and are founded, in their entirety as well as in every detail, upon
those eternal principles which the Greeks laid down as a criterion for assessment of
the moral and physical progress of free Citizens. [55]
Also confined to antiquity was the study in French and Greek by Greek expatriate
in Paris Georgios Spyridis entitled The Illustrated Panorama of the Olympic Games.
The author himself describes his work as a ‘historical’ study, drawn from his
unpublished work on ‘A History of European Education over the centuries’.
Spyridis’s Panorama provides a very detailed description of the ancient games as ‘the
most magnificent institution of our ancestral heritage’, [56] while at the same time
repeating commonplaces regarding the role of physical exercise in the training of
children and the link between the tradition of competition and the victories in the
21

Persian Wars. The innovative feature of his approach is, however, the systematic
incorporation of the finds of the archaeological excavations at Olympia in such a
way that his book could serve as a guide to the new ‘pilgrims’ – that is, the foreign
visitors who would flow to the ‘New Jerusalem’. The admiration for Greek
antiquity which imbues Spyridis’s work also results in the condemnation, as
periods of historical decline, of both the period of Roman rule and the Byzantine
Empire by reason of the ‘spirit, unfavourable in its very nature’ of the new
Christian religion. [57]
Consequently, although the paradigm of continuity is not essentially doubted,
the history of sport is identified with the history of the ancient games. In any event,
it is only ancient history that can serve as an exemplar, in accordance with the
prevailing view that history ‘teaches’ people of modern times to imitate the
examples of their forefathers (and to avoid their errors). The first to systematize
the scattered and fragmented views on the historical continuity of physical exercise
in a comprehensive work was Antonios T. Spiliotopoulos, [58] under the eloquent
title The Olympic Games through the Centuries. The Games with the Greeks, the
Romans, the Byzantines, and the Franks. Armatoloi and Modern Times. [59] The
work contains eight chapters bearing the following titles: Importance of exercise
with the Greeks, Olympic Games, Games with the Romans, the Byzantines, Jousting
in the Middle Ages, Armatoloi Times, Modern Times, Athletic Life in England. This
was not, therefore, a Greek history of physical exercise but a work which also
incorporated European athletic history up to the present. However, the narrative is
clearly hellenocentric, as Spiliotopoulos represents athletic activity in Western
Europe since the eighteenth century with constant comparisons with ancient Greek
physical exercise. What he writes regarding the spread of sport in Germany is
typical: ‘the events of the ancients are repeated this time on foreign soil’, [60] while
he describes the English as ‘the nation which has assimilated all the sporting life of
the ancients; they have achieved this in accordance with their own manners and
customs’. [61] The modern Greeks must themselves imitate the ancient example,
and be inspired by their history, in order to ‘achieve their national ideal’ and to
‘solve their national problem’. [62]
Moreover, in Spiliotopoulos’s work antiquity is evaluated as the most important
period, while at the same time it accounts for the greater part of the book (90 pages of
a total of 223). There are, nevertheless, three important new features: (1) there is a
separate chapter on physical exercise in Byzantium; (2) there is a lengthy account of
physical exercise in Western Europe (medieval and modern times); (3) a lengthy
account is provided on the subject of physical exercise during the period of Ottoman
rule. Thus, the book applies the ‘three-stage pattern’ of Greek national history
introduced by Paparrhigopoulos to the history of physical exercise. Antiquity,
Byzantium and Modern Hellenism articulate the chronological framework for a
history of sport ‘from ancient times’ to the present. On this model, Byzantium was
still approached with a degree of scepticism whereas the complete incorporation of
the modern klephts and the armatoloi had been achieved.
22

The ‘Hellenisation’ and ‘Athleticisation’ of Byzantium

It is well known that the integration of Byzantium into Greek national history as the
Greek Middle Ages was the outcome of a prolonged process and was primarily
expressed through the work of two men: Spyridon Zambelios (1815–1881) and
Constantinos Paparrhigopoulos. The Enlightenment tradition had elaborated a
negative assessment of theocratic Byzantium. It was regarded as a period of slavery
for the Greek nation, a view which affected Greek historiography until approximately
the last quarter of the nineteenth century. In case of the history of sport, the
incorporation of Byzantium in the nationalist historiographic discourse was seen as
even more difficult, given the attitude of Christians towards the human body and the
abolition of the Olympic Games by the Christian emperor Theodosius in 394 AD. In
other words, as far as sport was concerned, Christianity constituted the most
important obstacle to the nation’s historical continuity. In order to achieve such
continuity, nineteenth-century historians had not only to ‘hellenise’ but also to
‘athleticise’ Byzantium.
It was Spyridon Zambelios, an intellectual from the Ionian Islands and the author
of lengthy works with a historical content, who maintained in 1852 that ‘whether we
like it or not, we are children of the Middle Ages’, and that ‘the Middle Ages are the
most substantive means and the articulating link piecing together, rationally and
philosophically, what went before with what came after’. [63] He defended the
importance of the Byzantine period, saying that ‘whatever decline is invoked is, in
fact, nothing more than a transition’, [64] and he invented the term ‘Helleno-
Christianism’, a notion which became influential in determining modern Greek
national identity. This innovative perspective on Byzantium and its organic
integration into national history did not, nevertheless, translate into an acknowl-
edgement of continuity of sport. The only Byzantine venue which could be described
as athletic, that is, the hippodrome of Constantinople, was valued primarily for its
political significance which rendered it a continuator of antiquity. In fact, as can be
concluded from other historical accounts written during the nineteenth century, even
though the hippodrome was negatively assessed as a site of sport spectacle, it was
perceived positively as revival of the ancient agora. [65] ‘Entertainment with horse-
racing and vain spectacles’ [66] linked Byzantium with Rome, while the political
functioning of the demoi linked it with ancient Athens.
New Rome accepted the vanity and foolishnesses of the older without, however,
accepting the majority of its virtues; particularly with regard to horse-racing and
spectacles, the obsession of the Byzantines was developed to such a degree that
bread and the circuses sufficed to make them happy. [67]
In national historiography, the organic incorporation of Byzantium as an

additional link in historical continuity did not automatically result in its legitimation.
In other words Byzantium was treated in national historiography after 1860 as the
23

Greek Middle Ages (Paparrhigopoulos speaks of ‘medieval Hellenism’), but it was not
acknowledged that it had a cultural value similar to that of antiquity. Furthermore, a
reduced scholarly concern with Byzantium was reflected in the limited number of
relevant historical studies published in Greece and abroad, in contrast with ancient
Greek history. It was only in 1892 that the first chair of Byzantine Studies was
established at the University of Munich and the first Byzantinist journal,
Byzantinische Zeitschrift, was published, whereas in 1899 the chair of Byzantine
History was established at the Sorbonne. [68]
This general attitude inevitably influenced the historiography of sport. The
position of Lambros summarizes well this ambivalent attitude:
The decline of sport in Byzantine times led in the end to the inevitable enslavement
of the nation. And yet the Byzantines had the Hippodrome in which often the
shouts of the demoi echoed and with which the beginnings of folk music and
poetry are associated; they had the Tzykanisterion in which the medieval chivalry of
the West, imitated those equestrian events whose echo sounds sweetly in the poetic
pages of Erotokritos. [69]
In the late nineteenth century the field of Byzantine studies in Greece was still in an
embryonic and loosely organized state. At the University of Athens Byzantine history
was taught not as a self-contained subject but as part of general Greek history survey
courses. It was only in 1912 that the establishment of the chair of Byzantine Art and
Archaeology was announced, and in 1924 the first chair in Byzantine History was
established. During the same period, a different representation of athletic activities in
the Byzantine period emerged. G. V. Tsakopoulos published an article on the
Olympic Games which were held in Antioch from the second century BC to 520 AD,
deliberately aimed at revising the negative approach to Byzantium which had been
imposed by ‘a superficial and calculating critique’. In the view of Tsakopoulos, the
Olympic Games of Antioch were closely linked with ‘the glorious ancient Greek
world and with today’s hopeful renaissance of physical exercise in Greece and in
Europe’, while they proved how much the Greeks of that period ‘were firmly and as a
matter of honour possessed by the ancestral national civilisation’. [70]
Nonetheless, Tsakopoulos’s paradigm appears to have been scholarly isolated and
his efforts to ‘athleticise’ Byzantium were not successful. A number of factors
including the strong cult of antiquity, the revival of the ancient games as a living
experience, the system of values supporting contemporary physical exercise and the
content of education which gave emphasis to ancient traditions prevented
the smooth integration of the Byzantine period into the history of Greek sport.
In the entry ‘sport’ (athletismos) in the Great Greek Encyclopedia which summed up
scholarly knowledge in Greece in the inter-War years, it is clearly stated that:
The darkness of religious prejudices and of ascetic dogmatism had extinguished the
very last radiance of the divine Hellenic light. And during the Middle Ages, for long
centuries, physical exercises were abandoned completely. [71]
24

According to this pattern, physical training was re-discovered by the West after the
Fall of Constantinople in 1453, when refugee Byzantine scholars carried ancient
Greek thought to Europe.
In exactly the same year, 1927, the unequivocal position taken up by Evangelos
Pavlinis, whose work we could regard as the first comprehensive attempt at a national
history of physical exercise compiled by an instructor of physical education, is
exceptionally illuminating. [72] Pavlinis does not include Byzantium in his History of
Physical Exercise (1927), but rather the Western Middle Ages. ‘With the abolition of
the Olympic Games in 394’, he writes, ‘physical exercise had died’, and ‘we can [. . .]
point to 394 AD as the year of death’. The hippodrome of Constantinople
is not of interest to the history of sport. The focus of the history of physical exercise
can be claimed by other events of the Middle Ages. And these are the contests of the
knights. [73]
According to Pavlinis, the bloody spectacles in the hippodrome were connected

with Rome and not with ancient Greece. On the other hand, the contests of the
knights were reminiscent of ancient nobility (kalokagathia), the difference being that
the knights were warriors and their contests were ‘harsh military trials’. [74]
Hence the attempt to ‘athleticise’ Byzantium by means of the hippodrome could
not succeed for a number of reasons: (1) the contests in the hippodrome were clearly
of Roman and not ancient Greek origin; (2) athletic activity during the period of
Roman rule was undervalued, since, within the context of Greek national history, the
Romans were regarded as culturally inferior to the Greeks; (3) the hippodrome was in
total opposition to the ancient Greek ideals of physical exercise and the games. Thus,
the route of athleticization had to pass via the identification of athletic activities
which constituted a survival of ancient Greek events and contests. This was precisely
what Tsakopoulos attempted to do in 1901, but it was a long time before such trends
acquired currency among academic historians.
The period of the inter-War years was decisive for a change of attitude towards
Byzantium; it was then that its upgraded status as the ‘custodian’ of ancient Greek
civilization and as protector of European civilization from the Asiatic invaders was
established. This renewed interest focused on the evidence for the Greekness of
Byzantium and was inspired by national expediencies, given that the legacy of
Byzantium had also been claimed by other Balkan nation-states as well. Within this
context, athletic events in Byzantium were additional evidence of its Greek character.
Two professors in the Faculty of Letters of the University of Athens, Adamantios
Adamantiou (1875–1937), a pupil of Spyridon Lambros and professor of Byzantine
Art and Archaeology since 1912 and Phaedon Koukoules (1881–1956), professor
since 1932 in the Chair of Public and Private Life of the Byzantines, were mainly
responsible for elaborating the history of physical exercise in the Byzantine empire. It
is worth noting that both of the scholars were not historians but their scholarship and
teaching focused on archaeology and folklore.
25

Adamantiou was the author of the entry on physical exercise ‘among the
Byzantines’ in the Great Greek Encyclopedia, an entry which contradicts the entry on
‘sport’ (athletismos) in the same encyclopaedia in which, as we have already pointed
out the continuation of physical exercise in Byzantium is rejected. Adamantiou’s
article does not refer at all to the hippodrome and rests upon two basic arguments:
(1) that ancient sport survived in the Byzantine period in the form of contests and
exercises; (2) that contests of knights in the West had been Greek-inspired. Byzantine
sport is thus, presented as a continuation of that of ancient Greece. Moreover,
Byzantine sport is represented as having inspired modern Western sports such as
polo and tennis, which were handed on to Europe after the Crusades, ‘just as a host of
other customs of life and forms of progress of Greek and Muslim civilisation were
handed on to the peoples of the West’. [75]
Koukoules, in his monumental Byzantine Life and Civilisation (6 vol., 1948–1973)
was the first to truly elaborate, albeit unintentionally, a sports history of Byzantium.
His main purpose was to revise the views that the features of ancient civilization –
among which the athletic games – ceased to exist under Byzantium. Consequently,
the key concept for the ‘athleticisation’ of Byzantium was that of survival.
In the relevant chapters Koukoules incorporates the hippodrome ‘which in many
ways points to the national tradition, and was [. . .] the mirror of Greek medieval
society’, and he describes it as a site of spectacle which was a continuation of Roman
spectacles (‘‘‘panem et circenses’’ were sought by the Byzantines as they were by the
Romans’). [76] The athletic chapters par excellence are, nevertheless, included in the
section ‘The games and events’, [77] in which he notes the survival of the ancient
athletic and competitive traditions at least until the middle of the sixth century AD,
in spite of the attacks to which sport sites were subjected due to their association with
paganism. Koukoules regards the Olympic Games at Antioch, which he describes in
detail, as an example of this survival. Nor does he omit to describe systematically
other medieval contests, such as the tzykanion, klotsata, tzostra and tornemes which,
since the early twentieth century, had been incorporated into Greek history, chiefly
through the study of the ‘Erotokritos’, a Cretan folk poem of the seventeenth century.
[78]
The Klephts as Athletes of the Nation

Unlike Byzantium which underwent a long process of ‘hellenisation’, modern Greek
history, and above all the period of the Greek War of Independence (1821–1828), was
understood from the beginning as the confirmation of the continuity of the Greek
nation. A supreme event for the nation which was to lead it to state existence – the
primary aim of nationalisms in the nineteenth century – the War of Independence
was mythicized and its heroic figures were included in the national pantheon.
Furthermore, the war was presented as further proof of the ancient Greek origin of
modern Greeks through a process of legitimation which was based on the close
parallelism of the two eras and on the interpretation of the Greek War of
26

Independence as a ‘repetition’ of ancient glory. [79] Thus, just as Byzantium was

diminished through its comparison with antiquity, the Greek War of Independence
was given value through exactly the same comparison. It is noteworthy that the
measure of the value of a historical period in national history as a whole was in every
case antiquity. This valorization was also accompanied by early historiographical
interest in the Greek War of Independence so that, apart from the memoirs of the
protagonists, historical studies of that specific period of history were published by
Greek authors as early as the 1830s. [80]
With regard to the presence of sport in modern Greek history, as we have already
pointed out, it was the activities of the armatoloi (militia soldiers) and klephts
(bandits) which, according to historical studies in the course of the nineteenth
century, represented the continuity of physical exercise in Greek national history.
However, these groups were active during the period of Ottoman rule, a period
neglected and undervalued by the historiography of the Greek War of Independence,
because it was perceived as a period of ‘slavery’. Such a perspective, which
distinguished the ‘glorious’ Greek Revolution from the ‘dark’ ages of Ottoman rule,
was gradually altered in the nineteenth century so that around 1880, Ottoman rule
had become the ‘prologue’ to the Greek Revolution and was approached entirely
differently. More specifically, in the new narrative of Ottoman rule, the factors which
contributed to the preservation of national identity were stressed (political privileges,
education, the Patriarchate, and communities), while the Greeks were represented as
having had a superiority of an intellectual (embodied by the Phanariots) and military
(embodied by the klephts) nature. In this approach, the klephts took on a central
role, though not yet in direct relation to sport. The crucial transition lay in the
interpretation of the contests of the klephts not only as a part of their everyday life
and their preparation for war but also as a survival and continuation of ancient
physical exercise. This semantic change, however, was the work not only of history
but also of folklore studies (laographia).
Greek folklore studies developed on the model of the German Volkskunde [81] and
had as its purpose the ‘self-awareness of nationhood’. [82] In the climate of
romanticism, the scholarly field of folklore studies took on a national ‘mission’ which
consisted in proving, by arguments from the life and language of the modern Greek
people, the unbroken continuity of Greek civilization from antiquity to modern times.
Continuity was sought in the so-called ‘living monuments’, an expression introduced
in 1870 [83] and connoting first and foremost ‘linguistic monuments’, that is, folk or
oral literature. Folksongs which had attracted the interest of foreign scholars since the
early nineteenth century, were a privileged field for the new field of folklore studies.
Apart from being an expression of a high-quality folk literature, the folksong was
recognized at the same time as a historical witness to the resistance of the Greek nation
to the Turks. [84] Furthermore, their parallelism with the Homeric epics provided the
much-desired ‘bridge’ between ancient and modern Hellenism. [85]
Folksongs were used as evidence which allowed the history of Ottoman rule and of
its heroes – the klephts and the armatoloi – to be written. [86] Thus, the folksong was
27

an object of ‘recording’ and philological analysis but at the same time, also supplied
the material for the description of ‘traditional acts and actions’ [87] during the
period of Ottoman rule. The presumed authenticity of the content of these songs
allowed nineteenth-century Greek ethnographers to bypass in many cases practices of
eye-witnessing and fieldwork, both considered at the time as fundamental
requirements of their discipline.
In many folksongs there are in fact references to contests with the ‘sword’ and the
‘stone’ during festivals of agricultural communities. Fauriel, a systematic collector of
folksongs from the early nineteenth century, describes these contests as military
exercises which were useful for the preparation of the kelphts for war. [88] In the
same spirit are the scattered references to the contests of the klephts by those who
wrote the history of the period of Ottoman rule: the emphasis was placed on the role
of the klephts as future fighters for Greek freedom. The acknowledgement of an
‘athletic’ content in these contests dates to the late nineteenth century when physical
exercise had already been recognized as an integral part of education. Moreover,
physical education had assumed the role of the preparation of future soldiers of the
homeland. [89] Thus, the association of sport with a worthy military cause, which in
historiographical terms took place gradually from 1830 and was completed after
1880, facilitated the perception of the contests of the soldier-bandits klephts as sport.
The occasion of the revival of the Olympic Games provided further legitimation of
sport and firmly established the ‘athleticisation’ of the klephts.
During the same period Spyridon Lambros, in his speech delivered at the
inauguration of the gymnasium of the Panhellenic Sports Club (8 January 1895),
clearly formulated the new interpretation:
Sport was destined to take on new life in the times when the nation was enslaved.
[. . .] On the untrod mountains, free men, the armatoloi and klephts, engaged in
exercises very similar to those of the ancients. [. . .] In such a gymnasium, in such
an open-air military college in the mountains, the mountain-dwelling fathers of the
heroes who gave us a free homeland were trained. [90]
Systematic use of folksongs for the description of physical exercise during the
period of Ottoman rule was made by Spiliotopoulos who, as we have already
pointed out, published in 1896 the first comprehensive Greek history of physical
exercise. In an extensive chapter (pp. 182–203) which contains numerous references
to historical data and quotations from folksongs, Spiliotopoulos describes the
‘national contests of modern Greece’ in close parallelism with antiquity.
Furthermore, he maintains that it was only at this period that sport had the same
content as in antiquity:
It is only on Greek soil, where it first bloomed, that we find this again in its true
form. As exercise, that is, of the body, with the purpose of its perfection and
ennoblement. [91]
28

Exercise became, therefore, a means of national renaissance and contributed as

much as intellectual renaissance to the shaping of the heroic generation that led the
nation to its liberation. The role of exercise was not fully accounted for merely as
preparation for war, but it also contributed in moulding fine bodies, worthy of
admiration, like those of ancient statues.
Exercise contributed to beautifying and rejuvenating the race, and as the ancient
Greeks worshipped the fine and developed body, so during those knightly times in
Greece the developed and magnificent body was worshipped and apotheosised. [92]
The approach proposed by Spiliotopoulos, which coincided with the revival of the
Olympic Games, was widely accepted. [93] The ‘athleticisation’ of the klephts and the
armatoloi had already taken place, and the contests described by folksongs were
evidence for the revival of ancient exercise. Some decades later Dimitrios
Kambouroglous (1852–1942), in writing the entry on physical exercise under Ottoman
rule in the Great Greek Encyclopedia, added a new feature to the established paradigm:
the ‘alienation’ of the Greek nation – with the exception of the klephts – from physical
exercise is attributed to the prohibition imposed by the Turks on the raya. [94] In this
perspective, the argument formulated in the nineteenth century about Ottoman rule is
re-discovered with considerable delay: the ‘backwardness’ (economic, educational, etc.)
of modern Greece (‘civilised’ Western Europe being always a measure of comparison)
was due to the centuries of ‘slavery’. Approximately a century later, this pattern was
being applied to explain the absence of exercise and the physical decline of the nation.
At the same time, starting the late nineteenth-century ethnographic vogue
prompted local scholars to seek in the customs of their locality an affinity with
antiquity. The fairs on the occasion of some religious festival where athletic contests
were held attracted ethnographic interest. In his programmatic text on folklore
studies published in 1909 Nikolaos Politis, included in the catalogue of the 20
subjects with which the Greek ethnographer should concern himself the ‘games and
athletic contests’. [95]
Even before Politis, in 1893 the Asia Minor classicist and musician Georgios D.
Pachtikos published an essay on ‘Olympic Games in Bithynia’, in which he described
athletic contests which were held in his native Ortaköy in Bithynia at the religious fair
for the feast of St George, a well-known ‘athletic’ saint. These games, which he calls
‘Olympic’, were similar to those held at other fairs at the same period, and are
described with the clear aim of proving continuity from antiquity. Pachtikos writes:
At these religious fairs, when one examines them carefully one finds not only
ancient Greek life largely preserved, and, with astonishment, discovers traces of
ancient ideas, in total contradiction with the prevailing religion, but the very same
original Homeric manners and customs preserved and still flourishing after the
lapse of so many centuries! [96]
In other words, during the late nineteenth century, studies written by scholars and
historians, such as Spyridon Lambros, who aimed at finding evidence of national
29

continuity, jumble together physical education, the ancient games, folk games,
collective modes of recreation practiced down the centuries and the revived Olympic
Games. An attempt was made by professional physical education teachers who wrote
histories of sport in the twentieth century to shed light on this confusing state of
Greek sport scholarship. Without casting doubt on the concept of continuity, they
consider the distinction between physical education and competitive games and
revise the schema constructed by the intelligentsia of the nineteenth century. This
critical stance probably had to do with the fact that the so-called ‘gymnasts’ (physical
education teachers and coaches) were gradually forming a special professional group,
and claimed the right to write their own history themselves. It was also connected
with the fact that these ‘gymnasts’ focused on the pedagogic dimension of physical
exercise, underscoring the relationship between sport and education, and rejecting
the exaggerations of record-seeking sport cultivated by the sports clubs and
competitive games.
History Written by Physical Education Instructors

The training of physical education instructors began systematically in 1882 with the
establishment of the first college for physical education teachers, while in 1884
physical education was introduced as a compulsory subject in secondary education. A
central figure in this period was Ioannis Phokianos (1845–1896), director of the first
two colleges for physical education teachers in Athens (established in 1882 and 1884),
and the person responsible for organizing the athletic contests of the two last Zappas
Olympics. Phokianos was dubbed the ‘father of physical education’, by analogy with
Jahn, the founder of the German Turnbewegung, who had also been called the ‘father
of physical education’. The two first colleges operated only for 40 days each. It was
only in 1899 that a two-year ‘school’ for the training of physical education teachers
was established, while the first professional association of physical education teachers
was founded. By 1916–1917, 209 physical education teachers had graduated. In 1918,
the ‘school of physical education’ was transformed into Physical Education College
with a three-year course for men and two years of study for women on the model of
the Gymnastics Institute in Stockholm. As early as 1909 Swedish gymnastics had been
introduced, on the proposal of Ioannis Chryssafis, into the Greek educational system.
Gymnastics assumed the prestige associated with scientific knowledge, pedagogy and
medicine, and ceased to be justified exclusively through its contribution to military
preparedness. [97] In 1929 the Physical Education College was recognized as an
institution of tertiary education, whereas up to then it had belonged within secondary
education. The first phase in the development of physical education academic
institutions ended in 1932 with the establishment of the Physical Education Academy
which in 1939 was re-named the National Physical Training Academy, a name which
it retained until 1982. It was at that time that the first university departments in the
field of sport and physical education were set up called Departments of the Science of
Physical Education and Sport.
30

The early generation of physical education instructors, among which a leading role
was played by Evangelos Pavlinis, [98] Sotirios Peppas, [99] Angelos Fetsis, [100] and
Ioannis Chryssafis, [101], was extremely active in the fields of sport and were
involved with the shaping of state policy on physical education. They were also quite
prolific in writing and publishing. Chryssafis and Pavlinis were the authors of
handbooks on sport in which the history of physical exercise was summarized. The
physical education instructors of this generation had been trained initially in the
German-Swiss and then in the Swedish system of sport and had been influenced by
their values. There were ideological and political differences between them, but they
agreed in rejecting the competitive record-seeking sport as they believed that it
contradicted the aims of physical exercise. The conflict between this group of
supporters of German or Swedish physical exercise and the group of supporters
of sports of British origin had broken out during the preparations for the Games of
1896. [102] In order to understand the views of the professional physical education
instructors on the history of physical training, it is necessary to know how in
principle they defined such practices. Chryssafis’s 1930 concise albeit dense definition
echoes the prevailing views:
Physical training, i.e. the purposeful and methodical exercise of the body for the
acquisition and safeguarding of health, well-being, strength, and physical beauty,
contributes to the acquisition of courage, boldness as well as those virtues of the
soul which follow almost as a rule in every healthy, robust organism which has
undergone multifaceted exercise. [103]
On the basis of this definition, which regards physical training as ‘purposeful and
methodical’ exercise with a clear pedagogic aim, games and contests which have no
purposefulness but are recreational activities inherent in almost all human societies
should not be considered as ‘physical training’. It is on this distinction between
pedagogic physical exercise and recreational contests that Evangelos Pavlinis based
the writing of his History of Physical Education. And it was because of this distinction
that Pavlinis, as we have already pointed out, excluded the athletic activities of the
Byzantines from his historical composition.
Pavlinis’s pattern is based on the alternation of periods when physical exercise
flourished and when it declined. The basic criterion on which he organizes his
narrative is to what extent physical exercise constituted a means of education which
was not only physical but also spiritual (as a means of moulding the character). It is
the same aim which games must serve, their function being supplementary to
physical exercise. The model is classical antiquity, any deviation from which is
defined as ‘perversion’ and ‘decline’. The ancient Greek model, furthermore, also
constitutes the measure of comparison for later periods, as, for example, for the
Western Middle Ages and for the modern Olympic Games. Pavlinis is exceptionally
critical of the institution of the revived Olympic Games, in spite of the fact that he
considered the revival in itself ‘the greatest athletic event of the 19th century’.
He maintains that the result of this revival was ‘poor and pointless’ because ‘the
31

present-day world, either because it was not mature, or due to other special
circumstances has not been proven capable of accepting the influence of the ancient
spirit’ (p. 387). By way of contrast, he presents with enthusiasm the revival of Delphic
festivals attempted by Angelos Sikelianos and Eva Palmer in which the athletic
contests were ‘free of any barbaric stigma’ (p. 429).
These views of Pavlinis echoed views prevailing among the Greek intelligentsia of
the inter-War years who, after the defeat of the Megali Idea in 1922, were seeking to
redefine the content of Greekness. The emphasis placed on the spiritual hegemony of
Hellenism by means of a ‘national renaissance’ meant, for one section of Greek
intellectuals, rejecting the duplication of foreign models – especially those coming
from the West – and modernism. It is no accident that the ‘Delphic movement’ was
not an isolated example of revival, particularly in the sphere of sport, where the
criticisms of moral decline and the need for ‘renaissance’ on the basis of the values of
ancient Greek athletics intensified. [104] In any event, the announcement of the
Delphic Games stated specifically that the aim was ‘to bring back the Spirit of the
Games from the industrial level to which it has fallen to the level of full moral
spontaneity from which it started out’. [105]
In 1927, the Hellenic Olympic Committee decided, for the celebration of the 40th
anniversary of the revival of the Olympic Games, to conduct International Classical
Games which would ‘re-baptise amateurs in the spirit of Olympism’, and would bring
back the ‘absolutely amateur Olympic spirit, inspired by a divine breath’. [106] In the
same year, Coubertin came to Greece to attend the ceremony of unveiling of the
marble monument which had been erected in his honour at Olympia. In his speech at
the Parnassus literary society, he spoke of his plan for a revival of the ancient Greek
gymnasium. [107] The second Delphic festivals were held in 1930, and the Classical
Games in 1934. [108] The revival of antiquity, yet again, was linked with the
renaissance of the nation.
The high value placed on antiquity and ancient sport affected both the
interpretation of the historical development of physical exercise and the structure
of Pavlinis’s book. Out of the 428 pages of the first edition (1927) the greater part is
devoted to antiquity: some 260 pages down to the fourth century BC, at which time
the beginning of the ‘decline’ is dated. More specifically, Pavlinis describes an
evolutionary pattern from purposeless exercise to playing, and from there to contests
and, finally, physical exercise. Although the first stages were common to many
peoples, the Greeks were the only people who consciously used physical exercise for
the ‘advancement of soul and body of the race’ (p. 10), according to Pavlinis. His
views echo the concerns about eugenics which circulated in the Europe of the rising
fascisms. [109]
The superiority of ancient exercise is constantly confirmed in the text, a
characteristic example being the comparison of ancient and modern physical exercise
(pp. 266–271). According to Pavlinis, the perfection of physical training which had
been achieved in classical times underwent decline for a number of reasons which
accumulated successively and distorted the content of exercise: initially, the
32

impairment of the educational ‘kalos kagathos’ ideal which was practiced to the
benefit of spiritual and not bodily virtues; then ‘the interbreeding with peoples of the
East’ during the period of the extension of Hellenism by Alexander the Great, which
distorted the Greek competitive spirit; at a later stage, the Roman conquest, which
accelerated decline because the Romans were ‘an inferior people’ (p. 324) and their
games were ‘bloody, harsh, eccentric spectacles’ (p. 327). However, the ‘fatal blow to
physical exercise’ was dealt by the new religion, Christianity, and its teaching on
asceticism (p. 337). ‘State violence’ and ‘religious fanaticism’ persecuted ‘everything
Greek’, so that 394 AD can be regarded as a ‘year of death’ for sport. Consequently,
the Middle Ages were the period of decline. The knights’ contests were the sole
exception, although they also fell in decline. The ‘revival of physical exercise’ is a
separate chapter which begins with the Renaissance and the transfer of ancient Greek
texts to the West by Byzantine scholars after the Fall of Constantinople. Nevertheless,
the revival of physical exercices (as Pavlinis defined it) is not dated before the
eighteenth century.
This schema of the history of European physical exercise is also applied to the
Greek case, so that Byzantium and the entire period from 394 AD to the nineteenth
century are completely downplayed. Moreover, Pavlinis does not hesitate to censure
publications by Lambros and Politis, who interpreted medieval contests as games
analogous to those of ancient times (pp. 404–411). It is precisely within this
framework that he discusses the contests of the klephts, to which he devotes just one
page (p. 412). However, having completely rejected the schema of national
continuity, he ‘gilds the pill’ by writing:
In general terms, as we investigate the years from 394 to the present, we see that
although there are no longer games in the ancient style in the Greek lands, the
contests imported from Europe have not attracted the interest of the multitude, but
on the contrary the Greek people has not ceased to love leisure activities, and has
striven in those contests which they have practiced since mythical times. (p. 411)
A few years later, in 1930, Ioannis Chryssafis reproduces the same pattern in
connection with the rise and fall of physical exercise, from ancient perfection to the
‘duels and fights with beasts’, and reiterates the view that ancient exercise disappeared
with the coming of Christianity, to be revived in Western Europe in the time of the
Renaissance. [110] Nevertheless, the views of Pavlinis and Chryssafis are not totally
identical. In any event, in the period of National Schism, they were in opposing
camps: Chryssafis was a close associate of Venizelos, whereas Pavlinis was dismissed
from his post because of his anti-Venizelist convictions. [111] Their political
differences inevitably influenced their analysis of the past and the future of physical
education.
Chryssafis did not share the devotion of Pavlinis to the ancient world nor his views
on the revival of the Olympic Games in 1896. It is not, in any event, a matter of
chance that his most important work is a modern history of the Olympic Games, in
which a very few pages, as an introduction, are devoted to the history of exercise
33

down to the nineteenth century. [112] Having studied in Sweden, and as a fervent
supporter of the Swedish gymnastic system, President of the Physical Education
College (1918–1921) and an official of the Ministry of Education under Venizelos, he
expresses a liberal, modernizing ideology. He contributed to the shaping of the main
laws on physical education which were voted by all the Liberal governments (1917–
1920 and 1928–1932). [113] By reason of his ideological and political convictions and
the positions he adopted as a scholar on physical education in the years 1927–1930, in
his capacity as Director of the Department of Physical Training of the Ministry of
Education he was unfavourable and gave no support to the Delphic plan of the
Sikelianos couple. [114]
Pavlinis, on the other hand, who had not studied abroad although he knew at least
French, was a recruit to the anti-Venizelist camp and was opposed to the
modernizing trend and the Western model of development and sought inspiration
exclusively in ancient Greece. It is no accident that he was an ardent supporter of the
Delphic revival. His positions, moreover, on Christian Byzantium are reminiscent of
views on the superiority of Hellenism over Christianity expressed by idealistic
intellectuals such as Periklis Yannopoulos. [115]
These two exponents of the history of physical exercise in the inter-War years thus,
give expression to two different positions. Chryssafis’s view would be characterized as
‘modernising’, ‘pragmatic’ and ‘egalitarian’: it is based on a positive assessment of
modern Europe and of contemporary Greece, sets as a priority the health of children,
and seeks the dissemination of sport to all the strata of society. Pavlinis’s view could
be described as ‘hellenocentric’, ‘spiritual’ and ‘aristocratic’: it regards as most
important the moulding of the character and of moral standards through sport.
Moreover, he adopts an idealistic approach to education, rejecting the ‘pragmatist’,
health-orientated approach, despises modern Europe as ‘decadent’ and virtually
‘barbaric’, and looks back to the ‘purity’ of ancient Greece.
From the Inter-War Period to the Post-Dictatorship Era: The History of Physical
Education Versus the History of Competitive Sport
The systematic interest in physical education, which in the first three decades of the
twentieth century led to legislative reforms and the writing of original works, was to
decline with the deaths of its two main advocates, Chryssafis (1932) and Pavlinis
(1953). Although the standards of physical education were raised in the 1930s,
publications on the history of sport were rather rare in the decades which followed
until the 1960s. The systematic approach to the history of Greek sport attempted by
Pavlinis and Chryssafis was not continued by other physical education specialists.
Indicative of this state of affairs is the fact that in 1953, in the absence of relevant
textbooks, the Office for the Publication of Schoolbooks republished Pavlinis’ History
of Physical Exercise. The gap became even more apparent due to the proliferation of
popular sport-related publications and a rising interest in sport events and news
demonstrated by the general public.
34

From the very few works published we can conclude that the idealization of sport
in combination with a cult of antiquity [116] continued until the 1960s, while the
pattern of the three thousand-year continuity of Greek athletics was consolidated on
a scholarly level and in popular publications. The systematic investigation of physical
exercise in Byzantium by Adamantios Adamantiou and Phaedon Koukoules in the
1930s and 1940s provided, as we saw, the necessary documentation for the
continuation of physical exercise.
A characteristic example of the popularized history of sport in this period is Greek
Sport through the Centuries by Nikolaos G. Christodoulou, President of the local
committee of the Union of Greek Athletics and Gymnastics Clubs (SEGAS) in
Thessaloniki. This book was a collection of Christodoulou’s speeches which had been
aired by local radio stations in 1949–1950. As such, it is directed at the general public
and its author was a Greek sports personality and not a professional physical education
instructor. We can thus, presume that he echoes views that were commonly accepted
with regard to the history of sport and which did not have to adhere to scholarly
prerequisites. [117] It is moreover clear that Christodoulou is documenting the history
of competitive sports and not physical exercise. In his work the historical continuity of
athletics is presented as uninterrupted from prehistoric times until the present, even in
periods of the nation’s ‘slavery’. The periodization of athletic history follows the
changes in national history (prehistoric times, ancient Greece, Roman rule, Byzantium,
Ottoman rule, modern times). The Byzantine hippodrome, although its Roman origin
is acknowledged, is presented as Hellenized ‘by the Greek character and the elegant
spirit of the residents of Constantinople’ (p. 24). Even so, Christodoulou acknowledges
that ‘in the countryside every notion of organised physical exercise and the
organisation of major athletics games had been eclipsed’ (p. 27). During the period
of Ottoman rule, armatoloi and klephts had ‘as gymnasiums their hideouts and hoary
klephts as their physical exercise instructors’ (p. 29). Furthermore, references are made
to sport contests at local fairs. Ancient heroes, Byzantine borderline troops and klephts
with their ‘unbelievable’ feats were the ancestors of the contemporary champions.
The narration of the achievements of the athletics heroes over the centuries
appears akin to the concept of the modern record, of exceptional performance, of
reaching the human limits. The history of sport indirectly embodies the history of
performance even if the concept is anachronistic with regard to all historical periods
prior to modernity. Athena Spanoudi was writing as early as 1931 in her book
eloquently titled Sport a Modern Religion:
What else were Heracles, Theseus, fleet-footed Achilles – a sprinter we would say
today – romantic Leander of Sestos, Dighenis and so many other mythical or real
heroes? What were the Andreiomenos of the folk song and the Palikars of 1821, if
not athletes and champions of eternal Greece? (p. 17)
Both Christodoulou and Spanoudi wrote popular works on the history of sport in
which they include the modern era, that is, the period after the creation of the Greek
35

state. Their interest in the contemporary sport records contributed to highlighting

athletic ‘achievements’ during the recent periods of Greek sport. At the same time,
the flourishing of sports clubs in the inter-War period and the rapid rise in the
number of sports fans created the preconditions for the appearance of a new type of
sports history – the history of sports clubs. [118] This history was purely modern and
did not belong to the ‘specialists’. It was distinguished by a sentimental writing style
and anecdotal narrative.
A little before the middle of the twentieth century, therefore, two trends in the
history of sport had been established: on the one hand there was the history of
physical exercise as a means of education, and on the other the history of sports and
games. This first type was cultivated by professional physical education professors
teaching at physical education colleges. Their work was influenced to a great extent
by the foreign bibliography on the historical development of physical exercise and
aspired to scholarly credibility. The second type was not scholarly, was advanced by
figures in the sporting world, journalists and intellectuals who were attracted to
sports and focused their attention on athletic ‘feats’ over the centuries. While
performance was not of interest for the history of physical exercise, in contrast the
history of sport was based on performance.
Despite their differences, these two historiographical trends were in agreement on
the issue of the continuity of physical exercise as an element of national history. In
reality, the evidence for continuity was either completely absent (as in the history of
physical exercise) or it was not sufficient (as in the history of sport). Even so, and
despite the lack of evidence, continuity is found not in athletics itself but in the love
of physical exercise, which is alone considered an element of the national character
over the centuries.
The most important work on the history of sport in the Greek state (1830–1930)
after that of Chryssafis was published in the 1960s. This was the work of Pavlos N.
Manitakis, former Vice-President of SEGAS, A Hundred Years of Modern Greek Sport
(Athens 1962). This extensive work (637 pages) constitutes an exhaustive, year-by-
year record of the actual events of Greek athletics during the first century of the Greek
state. Games, performances, clubs, sports press, legislation, Greek participation in the
Olympic Games, athletes, personalities of sports and physical education, and the
activities of SEGAS and the Hellenic Olympic Committee are recorded in detail with
no references to sources or bibliography. It is, however, clear that Manitakis
conducted scrupulous research in the SEGAS archives at least. Although reference is
made of the place of physical education in the school curriculum, Manitakis’ work
belongs to the history of games, as its title indicates. His heroes are Olympic victors
and champions. Three of these (Louis, Georgantas, Tsiklitiras) [119] grace the cover.
The study highlights modern Greek athletics, resting upon the schema of the
continuity in exercise. In the brief introduction, Manitakis argues that only in Greece
‘has there essentially never been a pause in the cultivation of athletics’, in contrast
with the rest of the world where athletics were reborn only in the nineteenth century.
Consequently, 1830 is not the beginning but an intermediary point in the national
36

history of athletics, which has followed a continuous and uninterrupted path since
antiquity. Ancient, Byzantine and klephts and armatoloi sport are succeeded by
modern Greek sport and its achievements. The high value placed on modern athletics
was the final addition to the national history of sport and can be credited to
Chryssafis and Manitakis.
Nonetheless, other publications from the 1960s and 1970s demonstrate that there
is no coherent tradition in the field of the history of physical education and sport.
Views that conflict with each other, [120] studies containing factual errors, [121] and
a lack of quantitative and qualitative research are typical of historical works on sport
of this period. The colonels’ dictatorship (1967–1974) put a complete end to legal
reforms in the education system, physical exercise in particular, clearly affecting
related scholarly activities. The junta gave emphasis to school parades and gymnastics
displays, the cultivation of discipline through gymnastics classes, and promoting itself
internationally by showcasing champions. Ethnocentric themes and festivals which
sought to cultivate national pride marked this particular era. [122]
Throughout the same period the only comprehensive scholarly book of Greek
sport history was written by the physical education instructor Constantinos C.
Blachouras (Athens 1975). This study, entitled The Physical Education of the Greeks
(Historical Development of Physical Education from Ancient Times until Today)
summarizes the basic positions of the national history of sport formulated in earlier
works (by Pavlinis, Adamantiou and Koukoules). This was a history of physical
education hostile to championships and records which proposed a return to the
ideal of kalokagathia. Blachouras’s book was privately published. It was the norm
that books on the history of sport were not published by publishing houses, given
the limited interest in similar publications. [123] Moreover, as it can be deduced in
the overview above, the number of publications on the history of physical
education and competitive sport was extremely limited. [124] Hence the central
figures of modern Greek sports history did not receive much recognition for their
efforts. Their names, as well the names of those who worked to spread physical
exercise in Greece did not find their way to scholarly Who’s Who encyclopaedias
and biographical dictionaries.
The National History of Greek Sport

Sports historiography in Greece from the late eighteenth century until 1982
developed in conjunction with the integration of gymnastics as a part of the school
curriculum as well as with the modern interest in sports. As a result, two parallel
patterns emerge – on the one hand, the history of exercise and physical education in
general, and on the other the history of sports and games. Their basic difference lies
in the fact that the former is critical of championships while the latter is structured
around performance. The history of the Olympic Games forms a third, distinct field
which incorporates both the idealistic approach to ancient kalokagathia as well as the
documentation of modern Olympic records. This field was to be particularly
37

developed in Greece given the position of the ancient games in national history and
the symbolic weight of the revival of the ancient games for national identity.
Indeed, the history of physical exercise was associated primarily with the process of
composing the national narrative, as it was formulated within the context of the
predominant schema of national historiography during the nineteenth century.
Given the importance for the self-definition of the Greeks of the concept of
continuity from antiquity until the present, the history of athletics was closely linked
to national identity. Athletics and, primarily, the love of exercise and the games
(something that does not require historical documentation) were highlighted as
integral elements of the Greek character throughout the centuries.
With the presence of antiquity and the Olympic Games acting as a catalyst, the
remaining periods of Greek history were successively ‘athleticised’: the competitions
of the klephts and armatoloi were recognized in the nineteenth century as a ‘revival’ of
ancient athletics; in the twentieth century the games of the Byzantines were
recognized as a ‘survival’ of the ancient games. As a matter of fact, ‘athleticisation’
followed Hellenization. Before the history of sport became ‘national’, all periods of
Greek history (Byzantine empire and Ottoman rule) had been successively integrated
in a coherent paradigm of national continuity and unity. Modern Greece – the period
after the creation of the Greek state – was the last to be incorporated into the pattern
of national sports history. The history of this period includes the history of the revival
of the Olympic Games and it was to be developed, with the exception of Chryssafis,
after the end of the period under consideration here. [125]
The great delay observable in the consolidation of a cohesive interpretation of the
Greek history of sport, in contrast with other developments in national history, should
be attributed to the fact that physical education, although it gained a place in the
educational system, did not enjoy academic recognition. Physical activities had always
enjoyed low esteem by most researchers working within the framework of the Western
rationalist tradition. As a result, the history of physical exercise was condemned as an
‘insignificant’ activity. The undisputed primacy of the intellect resulted in the lack of
original research into physical education and sports and the indifference of professional
historians for this field of history. It is not by chance that the physical education
instructors who produced historical studies presented sport as essentially an intellectual
and not exclusively a physical activity (Pavlinis in particular).
A further characteristic of the history of athletics is its circumstantial nature. The
history of physical education developed due to the establishment of schools for
training physical education teachers (1882–1982) while the history of the Olympic
Games and athletics in general benefited from specific events, such as the first
modern Olympics in Athens (1896), the Intermediate Olympic Games of 1906, the
revival of ancient contests (1927–1934), the centenary of the revival of the Olympics
(1996) and the Athens Olympics (2004). This history of sports was associated with
the spread of sports in Greek society and it did not seek legitimization in the distant
past. Of a more journalistic nature, it documented the glory of the club. As such, it
cannot be incorporated into the national history of sport.
38

The arguments presented above can be further substantiated by a look at the

position of sport in general Greek histories. National historiography may have
incorporated athletics into its contents but left it marginalized with the exception of
the ancient games. The concept of the historical continuity of exercise was claimed
but it was not documented through original historical research. Moreover, physical
exercise was initially a subject for archaeology and folklore studies, and not for
history. From the first Greek archaeology handbooks, published at the end of the
eighteenth century, until the History of the Greek Nation in the 1970s, physical
education was understood as belonging to the ‘public and private life’ of the Greeks
and, as such, was not incorporated into the sphere of history. As a rule, archaeologists
research the ancient games, archaeologists write about the contests of Byzantium,
ethnographers work on the contests of the klephts and the armatoloi through the
study of the folksong. Until the growth of social and cultural history in Greece, the
dominant historical school was indifferent to sport.
Developments in the field of physical education are similar. Output after 1982 was
much greater and significantly differentiated. Emanating primarily from the ranks of
the faculty of the department of Physical Education and Sports Science, work was to
be produced on the history of sport in all historical periods. Moreover, for the first
time after the events of 1896, other researchers from the human and social sciences,
apart from archaeologists, took an interest in physical exercise. These facts make the
period 1982–2004 a distinct area of investigation that could be the subject of a
separate study. [126]
Notes
[1] Koulouri, ‘On the Path to Revival’, 15–16.
[2] For a comprehensive account of the relations between nationalism and identity in
nineteenth-century Greece, see Gallant, Modern Greece, 54–74. For an analysis of Greece’s
Olympic identity as part of its national identity, see Kitroeff, Wrestling with the Ancients.
[3] The History of the Greek Nation – a work of reference on Greek history even today – was
published in the years 1970–78 by Ekdotike Athenon in 15 volumes. The work of many
contributors with considerable ideological and academic differences among themselves, it
gives expression to the basic trends of Greek historiography in the late twentieth century. In
2000, the sixteenth volume, covering the period 1941– 2000, was published.
[4] Istoria tou Ellinikou Ethnous, 7, 261–4.
[5] Ibid., 14, 93. Furthermore, a brief reference to the idea of a revival of the Olympic Games
and to E. Zappas is to be found in Ibid., 13, 178.
[6] Dem. I. Lazaridis (Istoria tou Ellinikou Ethnous, 2, 472–507) and G.A. Papathanassopoulos
(Istoria tou Ellinikou Ethnous, 6, 482–92).
[7] Istoria tou Ellinikou Ethnous, 2, 472.
[8] Ibid., 2, 501.
[9] Ibid., 6, 483–4.
[10] Ibid., 6, 484.
[11] Constantinos Paparrhigopoulos (1815–91) was the major Greek historian of the nineteenth
century. He begun lecturing on the ‘history of the Hellenic nation from ancient times to
present’ at the University of Athens in 1851. His major work History of the Hellenic Nation
39

was published in 15 volumes from 1860 to 1875. It was the first attempt at synthesizing a
coherent national history, which integrated all three historical periods (ancient, medieval and
modern) in a continuous entity. Paparrhigopoulos’s historiographical scheme had a
considerable impact on his contemporaries and launched a long-lived tradition in Greek
history. About C. Paparrhigopoulos, see Dimaras, Constantinos Paparrhigopoulos. I epochi
tou-i zoi tou-to ergo tou.
[12] Paparrhigopoulos, Istoria tou Ellinikou Ethnous, 1, 266.
[13] Ibid., 1, 267.
[14] Kyrtatas, Kataktontas tin archaiotita, 17.
[15] Momigliano, ‘George Grote et l’étude de l’histoire grecque’, 371–82.
[16] Paparrhigopoulos, Istoria tou Ellinikou Ethnous. I proti morfi: 1853, 51. In that book,
Paparrhigopoulos used wrongly 777 BC as the date of the first ancient Olympic Games.
However, he corrected his mistake in 1861: Istoria tou Ellinikou Ethnous, 1, 103.
[17] Paparrhigopoulos, Ta didaktikotera porismata, 1, 96.
[18] Ibid., 3, 81.
[19] Ibid., 2, 108. About Fauriel see below, n.88.
[20] Karamanolakis, I syngrotisi tis istorikis epistimis, 187–98.
[21] Koulouri, Sport et société bourgeoise. Les associations sportives en Grèce 1870–1922, 116–7.
[22] Karamanolakis, I syngrotisi tis istorikis epistimis, 255–6.
[23] Momigliano, ‘George Grote et l’étude de l’histoire grecque’, 374.
[24] Lambros himself in his foreword makes some critical observations on the basis of new facts
which had emerged after the publication of the book (chiefly concerning the discovery of the
Athenaion Politeia of Aristotle). See Curtius, Elliniki Istoria, I, x–xxiv. First German edition
was published in 1857–67. Lambros had been Curtius’s student. Karamanolakis, I syngrotisi
tis istorikis epistimis, 187.
[25] Lambros, ‘Preface’, in Curtius, Elliniki Istoria, I, xiv.
[26] Curtius, Elliniki Istoria, 2, 44. In the German original (Curtius, Griechische Geschichte, t.I,
Berlin 1857, 408) we read: ‘So entwickelte sich also der Begriff hellenischer Volksbildung,
welcher mehr als alles Andere die Griechen von den Barbaren alter und neuer Zeit
unterscheidet; der Begriff einer Bildung, welche Leib und Seele in gleichem Masse umfasste’.
[27] Lambros, Istoria tis Ellados, 1, 290; Georgios Sotiriadis, who had studied in Germany and
Switzerland, had taken part in archaeological excavations and in 1912 became professor at
the University of Athens, also represents the games as a factor for national unity: Sotiriadis,
Istoria, 98.
[28] Lambros, Istoria tis Ellados, 1, 311.
[29] Ibid., 3, 537.
[30] Lambros, To Panathinaikon Stadion kai en auto anaskafai. According to these articles,
archaeology provides an answer which silences those who have doubts about the glory of
ancient Greece. The Stadium is linked with the locations of ‘the gymnasia and public
displays’ which adorned ancient cities, ‘because gymnastics is a far from insignificant part of
a liberal training’ (p. 7). The ancient Stadium had been excavated by Ziller in August 1869–
February 1870 and had hosted the Zappas Olympics of 1870 and 1875.
[31] Lambros, Sp., ‘Epi tois egainiois tou Gymnastiriou tou Panelliniou Gymnastikou Syllogou’
(text written in 1895); ‘393–1896’ (text written in 1897); The Olympic Games 776 BC – 1896.
Part I. The Olympic Games in Antiquity.
[32] Gazi, Scientific National History, 85.
[33] Lambros, Neoi orizontes, 28.
[34] Kokkinos, ‘The Greek intellectual world and the Olympic Games (1896, 1906)’, 163–4.
[35] Kyrtatas, D.I., Kataktontas tin archaiotita, 129–31.
[36] Koulouri, Dimensions idéologiques de l’historicité en Grèce, 200–11.
40

[37] ‘Every nation makes its appearance in the precinct of civilisation equipped, in a way, with a
historical passport’. Zambelios, Asmata dimotika tis Ellados, 8.
[38] See Yakovaki, Evropi meso Elladas, 129, 271.
[39] Ibid. Cf. Schnapp, The Discovery of the Past. The Origins of Archaeology.
[40] In the same year Rigas also published in translation The New Anacharsis by Abbé Barthélemy,
in which there was also a reference to the ancient games (1797).
[41] Lambros, Ta eleftheria, 97. Speech of 24 March 1905.
[42] Rigas, Ta Olympia, 103.
[43] Paliouritis, Archaiologia elliniki, 162–73.
[44] Vokos, ‘Neoellinikos athlitismos’, 98.
[45] See Koulouri, ‘On the Path to Revival’; Decker, Die Wiederbelebung der Olympischen Spiele,
60–73.
[46] Minoidis, Filostratou Peri gymnastikis. In the same year the doctoral thesis by Herocles
Vasiadis De Veterum Graecorum Gymnastice (Berlin 1858) was published.
[47] This chapter was reprinted from the book written by Ath.Stageiritis, Ogygia i archaiologia
[Archaeology], 3, Vienna 1817, 452–99.
[48] Pagon, Perilipsis tis gymnastikis, 13.
[49] Ibid., 11.
[50] Koulouri, ‘On the Path to Revival’; Georgiadis, Olympic Revival: The Revival of the Olympic
Games in Modern Times; Decker, Die Wiederbelebung der Olympischen Spiele, 78–99.
[51] Minoidis, Filostratou Peri gymnastikis, v.
[52] Papageorgiou, D., Olympia kai Olympiakoi Agones. Cf. Kokkinos, ‘The Greek intellectual
world and the Olympic Games (1896, 1906)’, 144–6.
[53] A primary-school teacher and subsequently a judge of first instance, A. Papandreou was also
the author of another school textbook on the history of the Greek Revolution.
[54] Papandreou, Istoria tis archaias Ellados, 28–29.
[55] The Olympic Games 776 BC – 1896. Part I. The Olympic Games in Antiquity, preface.
[56] Spyridis, To eikonografimenon panorama ton Olympiakon Agonon, 6. In connection with
other works which were published on the occasion of 1896 and deal with the ancient games
see Koulouri, ‘Introduction: Rewriting the history of the Olympic Games’, 16, footnote 8.
[57] Spyridis, To eikonografimenon panorama ton Olympiakon Agonon, 68.
[58] Born in Patra in 1869. Jurist and journalist, he wrote for the Akropolis newspaper and edited
the Athens Neologos. He also served as Prefect of Lesvos and Messenia. He published many
books on historical and folklore subjects as well as on the Macedonian Question. (Megali
Elliniki Engyklopaideia, 22, 2nd ed. 1959–63). A fanatical opponent of Venizelos, he
published a book/pamphlet against him containing views on ancient Greek history clearly
influenced by the National Schism and the Asia Minor Catastrophe: The Evil Spirits of Greek
History from Ancient Times to the Present, Athens 1925 (in Greek).
[59] A short account containing a considerable number of historical errors, was incorporated in
another work published on the occasion of the Olympic Games of 1896: Gagalis, Kazis,
Ioannidis, Perigrafi ton proton diethnon Olympiakon Agonon.
[60] Spiliotopoulos, Oi Olympiakoi Agones dia ton Aionon, 207.
[61] Ibid., 212.
[62] Ibid., [6].
[63] Zambelios, Asmata dimotika tis Ellados, 23.
[64] Ibid., 17.
[65] Lambros, Istoria tis Ellados, 3, 533–41.
[66] Zambelios, Asmata dimotika tis Ellados, 221.
[67] Stamatiadis, O ippodromos tis Konstantinoupoleos, 23.
[68] Kioussopoulou, ‘I proti edra Vyzantinis Istorias sto Panepistimio Athinon’.
41

[69] Lambros, ‘Epi tois egainiois tou Gymnastiriou tou Panelliniou Gymnastikou Syllogou’, 243–
4.
[70] Tsakopoulos, ‘Oi en Antiocheia Olympiakoi Agones’, 1–11.
[71] Megali Elliniki Engyklopaideia [Great Greek Encyclopedia], 2, supplement, Athens 1927, 309.
The author of the entry was Stelios Sperantsas.
[72] About Pavlinis, see further endnote no. 98.
[73] Pavlinis, Istoria tis gymnastikis, 339–40.
[74] Ibid., 341. The identification of the medieval exercises with the contests of the knights is also
encountered briefly in the work of N. Pyrgos, Paidagogiki imiorganiki gymnastiki (Athens 1880),
one of the first gymnastics textbooks to be published to support physical education. Pyrgos was
a fencing master and teacher at the first college for physical education instructors (1882).
[75] Megali Elliniki Engyklopaideia, 10, 1934, 972–3.
[76] Koukoules, Vyzantinon vios kai politismos, 3, 11, 48.
[77] Ibid., 81–147.
[78] The debate which took place at that time regarding the identity of the poet and the question
of Frankish influences which could be traced in the poem does not concern us here. This
debate did not refer to the athletic content of jousting which is described in the poem, but it
was related to the Western origin of such contests that occurred in Greece. Politis maintained
the equestrian contests of Frankish origin such as kontaroktypimata, tzoustra, tornemes had
been integrated into Greek customs: Politis, Erotokritos, 61. Cf. the opposite view expounded
in Sotiriadis, Erotokritos.
[79] Typical of this was the parallelism of the clashes of the ancient Greeks against the Persians
with the Greek war of Independence against the Ottoman Turks within the context of the
broader clash between Europe and Asia.
[80] Phrantzes, Epitomi tis istorias tis anagennitheisis Ellados; Philemon, Dokimion istorikon.
[81] Meaning ‘the knowledge we have of a people’, whereas the term ‘folklore’ means ‘the
knowledge which a people has’. For the definition given by the ‘father’ of Greek folklore
studies, Nikolaos Politis, see Politis, ‘Laographia’, 7.
[82] According to the father of German Volkskunde Wilhelm Heinrich Riehl. Kyriakidou-
Nestoros, I theoria tis ellinikis laographias, 31. The term ‘laographia’ was created by N.Politis
in 1884.
[83] See the announcement by Parnassos literary society: Neoellinika Analekta, 3–5.
[84] Politis, Romantika chronia, 54.
[85] Ibid., 56–57.
[86] See above, no.19.
[87] Politis, ‘Laographia’, 9.
[88] Politis, To dimotiko tragoudi. Kleftika, 152–5. Claude Fauriel (1772–1844) was a French
scholar, member of the group of Ideologists in Paris. Fluent in many languages and versatile
philologist, he is known as the author of the first collection of popular songs of Greece (2
vols., Paris 1824–25). Politis, Alexis, I anakalypsi ton ellinikon dimotikon tragoudion, 201–17.
[89] The linking of sport and the military preparation of children was common throughout the
whole of Europe in the late nineteenth century. Koulouri, Sport et société bourgeoise, 54–56.
[90] Lambros, ‘Epi tois egainiois tou Gymnastiriou tou Panelliniou Gymnastikou Syllogou’, 244.
[91] Spiliotopoulos, Oi Olympiakoi Agones dia ton Aionon, 182.
[92] Ibid., 193.
[93] Dimakis is copying Spiliotopoulos in many paragraphs: Anagnosma peri gymnastikis en
Elladi.
[94] Megali Elliniki Engyklopaideia, 10, 1934, 973–4. In his earlier work, Armatoloi kai kleftes
(Athens 1916), Kambouroglous describes the exercises and the games of klephts without
referring neither to sport nor to antiquity.
42

[95] Politis, ‘Laographia’, 14.

[96] Pachtikos, Olympiakoi Agones en Vithynia, 6.
[97] Koulouri, Sport et société bourgeoise, 56–59, 63–68.
[98] Evangelos Pavlinis (1887–1953) began to study law, but turned his attention to physical
education and took his degree as a physical education instructor in 1908. He worked as such
at the Ambeteios School in Cairo and in Greek town of Veria. In 1921 he was appointed
professor at the Physical Education College in Athens, and from 1934 to 1939 as well as from
1945 to 1949 served as General Inspector of Physical Education. He founded the Society for
Physical Education Studies (1932), published the Elliniki Agogi journal (1933–36, 1946–47,
1949) and a series of essays on physical education.
[99] Born in Aegina in 1862, he worked as a primary school teacher in Athens. Starting in 1882 he
worked as a physical education instructor. Beginning in 1898 he served as Director of the
Special School of Physical Education Instructors. He was also General Inspector of Physical
Education (1921–31). He died in 1935. Enisleidis, Morfai tis istorias tou ellinikou
proskopismou, 24, footnote 2.
[100] Born in Lefkada in 1877 and died in Athens in 1968. He was a pupil of Phokianos and a long-
distance runner; he took part in the Olympic Games of 1896. He studied at the Athens Law
School (1896–98), but chose to register as well at the physical education instructors’ college
(1900–02). He taught as a physical education instructor in Athens secondary schools and at the
Physical Education College. In the years 1905–06 he went to Egypt, where he worked as coach
at the Iphitos Greek sports club of Cairo. He was the publisher of the Niki journal (1909–28)
and an official of Greek scouting and nature-lovers’ associations. Of Venizelist sympathies, he
fell victim to the wave of dismissals when the anti-Venizelist party was in power.
[101] Ioannis Chryssafis (1872–1932), who did postgraduate studies in Sweden and introduced
Swedish gymnastics in Greece, was for many years a teacher in colleges for physical education
and a physical training inspector (1910–17). He left behind an important body of writings on
the history of physical training, chiefly on the nineteenth century and the revival of the
Olympic Games.
[102] Koulouri, Sport et société bourgeoise, 96–98.
[103] Chryssafis, Oi sygchronoi diethneis Olympiakoi Agones, 5.
[104] The positions taken up by the Athlitiki Evdomas journal (1928–29) are typical in criticizing
the performances of the Greek delegation at the Amsterdam Olympic Games, and proposing
the establishment of a Sub-Ministry of Physical Education.
[105] Papadaki, To ephiviko protypo kai i delfiki prospatheia tou Angelou Sikelianou, 112.
[106] Yiannitsiotis, ‘The Fortieth Anniversary in 1934 and the Classical Games’, 100.
[107] Koulouri, ‘Introduction: The Academy of Olympism’, 21.
[108] In 1934, the revival of the games (stadion, diaulos, pentathlon and hoplites dromos) was
carried out by the students of the Physical Education Academy. The processions re-enacted
the ‘main periods of the development of Greek civilisation’.Yiannitsiotis, ‘The Fortieth
Anniversary in 1934 and the Classical Games’, 104.
[109] Mazower, Dark Continent, 76–103.
[110] Chryssafis, Oi sygchronoi diethneis Olympiakoi Agones, 10–12.
[111] Cheimarras, To olympiakon ideodes kai o Evangelos Pavlinis, 21.
[112] Chryssafis, Oi sygchronoi diethneis Olympiakoi Agones. This work by Chryssafis is the most
systematic record of the history of the revival of the Olympic Games in the nineteenth
century and of the first IOC Olympic Games (Athens 1896–St Louis 1904). As such, it has
influenced many Greek and international historians of sport.
[113] Karantaidou, I physiki agogi stin elliniki mesi ekpaideusi, 130–4.
[114] Papadaki, To ephiviko protypo kai i delfiki prospatheia tou Angelou Sikelianou, 112–7.
[115] Tziovas, Oi metamorfoseis tou ethnismou, 37.
43

[116] Sakellariou, Hellas kai Athlitismos. In this work are described Creto-Mycenean athletics,
Homeric athletics and Olympic athletics, while the need ‘after the second Global Disaster
[. . .] for a new Truce, new Amphyctionic, new Olympic and new Delphic games’ is
emphasized. Cf. Kavvadias, Ai gymnastikai archai ton archaion Ellinon iatron kai philosophon.
[117] Christodoulou did, however, have the work of historians in mind, despite that there were no
references except for his specific citations of Adamantiou’s work on Byzantium.
[118] For example: Christodoulou, O Gymnastikos Syllogos Thessalonikis ‘Hercules’; Stefanoudakis, Milon.
[119] Spyridon Louis, a legendary figure and symbol of Greek athletics history, was the first
Olympic Marathon victor in 1896. Nikolaos Georgantas (1880–1958) was an Olympic
champion in the discus and throwing the stone at the Olympic Games of St Louis (1904),
London (1908) and the Athens Intermediate Olympic Games (1906). Constantinos
Tsiklitiras (1888–1913) was an Olympic champion at the Olympic Games of London
(1908) and Stockholm (1912) in the high jump and standing long jump.
[120] T.G. Karatasakis, general inspector of physical education and advocate of modern Swedish
gymnastics, expressed views completely different from those of Manitakis, arguing that the
conditions for the development of physical education in modern Greece were ‘unfavourable’,
with the result that physical education was ‘insignificant for national education’. Karatasakis, ‘I
physiki agogi eis tin syneidisin tis ellinikis koinis gnomis apo tis apeleftheroseos (1821) mechri
simeron’. The idealistic approach to contemporary physical education is also proposed by K.G.
Cheimarras in the two books that he wrote as commentary on E. Pavlinis’ work.
[121] Anonymous, ‘I ekseliksi tis athlitikis ideas stin Ellada’, 463–512. In this work the Byzantine
hippodrome returns as a continuation of ancient athletics and Frankish contests and revivals
of games resembling those of antiquity are passed over in silence. Cf. Papakyriakou,
Syntomos anaskopisis tis istorias tou athlitismou; Palaiologos, ‘O atlitismos eis tin Ellada kata
ta chronia tis douleias’, 26–27.
[122] Karantaidou, I physiki agogi stin elliniki mesi ekpaideusi, 93–96.
[123] For example: Tsiantas, Ta agonismata ton kleftarmatolon kai i ethnegersia; Blachouras,
I physiki agogi ton Ellinon.
[124] In the period 1829–1934, only 35 publications from a total of 449 are historical studies.
Kalfarentzos, Elliniki gymnastiki vivliografia 1829–1934.
[125] Koulouri, ‘Introduction: Rewriting the history of the Olympic Games’, 17–18.
[126] Koulouri, ‘The Inside View of an Outsider: Greek Scholarship on the History of the Olympic
Games’ and ‘Athleticism, Society and Identity: A Survey of Scholarly Debate’.
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48

Bodies that Differ: Mid- and

Upper-Class Women and the Quest
for ‘Greekness’ in Female Bodily
Culture (1896–1940)
Eleni Fournaraki
This article discusses different expressions of mid- and upper-class Greek women’s use of
classical antiquity in relation to female bodily culture. It focuses on two cases, connected
with successive phases of the collective women’s action in Greece. The first case concerns
principally the conjuncture of the Athens Olympic Games of 1896. The games offered the
opportunity to the Ladies’ Journal, the weekly that gave expression to the first feminist
group in Greece and its leading figure, C. Parren, to put forward a discourse which, by
constructing a specific image of the ancient Heraia games for ‘maidens’, ‘invents’ a
specific athletic-competitive ‘tradition’ on behalf of Greek women of their social class. The
second case rejoins the same circle of women principally in the interwar years as leading
figures of the Lyceum of Greek Women, the organization which distinguished itself by
juxtaposing to the newly formed militant feminist organizations its ‘hellenic-worthy’
activity, by organizing monumental festivals in the Panathenaic Stadium, which,
through displays of ‘national’ dances – folk and ‘ancient’ dances – and other ritual
events, performed the ‘tradition’ of the nation from prehistory until today.
Introduction
Within the framework of Greek nationalism, the gradual appropriation of modern
discourses and practices concerning physical exercise has been legitimized, since the
first decades of the independent Greek state, primarily on the basis of an unflinching
devotion to the ‘ancestral’ athletic ‘heritage’. There is no doubt that the alleged
affinities of this ‘heritage’ with modern athletic values reinforced the claims of
participation in Western civilization as opposed to the recent ‘oriental’ past of
49

‘despotism’, ‘obscurantism’ and bodily-spiritual ‘degeneration’. However, at the same

time, the nationalization of the ‘glorious’ athletic tradition of classical antiquity was
an ideological process which contributed greatly to the broader quest for a pure
‘Greekness’ juxtaposed or even opposed to ‘Westernization’. In other words, the
adoption of Western elements of bodily culture and sociability presupposed this
‘translation’ of the modernizing effects drawn by this adoption into the language of
national authenticity and continuity (see Koulouri, present volume): that is, the
language invoking the preservation of a genuine Greek national ‘character’, which had
as one of its fundamental traits the ‘love’ for athletics and freedom, according to the
liberal and patriotic or the more disciplinary and military but nonetheless manly
values attributed to the ancient Greek athletic model.
It is well known that, as part of the overall critical role that gymnastics and sport
activities had in the creation of fundamental ‘stereotypes’ of Western masculinity,
various perceptions of ancient athletics, especially those inspired by the ancient Greek
plastic representations of the athlete, offered a productive field for the construction of
aesthetic and moral models of manhood within Western modern civilization in
general. What makes the difference in the case of modern Greece is the fact that the
construction of a national identity was additionally at stake. As a matter of fact, the
various discursive uses of the ‘ancestral’ athletic ‘heritage’ and the endeavours seeking
to establish the continuity of the nation in the ‘love’ for physical exercise throughout
the centuries constitute versions of a dominant narrative, which constructs the
national identity together with that of manhood. In other words, any attempt to
understand sport and the legitimizing mediation of ancient athletics as a constituent
element of national history and identity involves a consideration of gender issues.
Approaching the relevant discourses as being ‘neutral’ in terms of gender, only
obscures the question of gender relations of power intrinsic to these discourses.
In this respect, it is significant that the first women’s attempts in late nineteenth-
century Greece to advocate the right of their sex to the male-dominated universe of
physical exercise and sport presupposed endeavours of an ‘appropriation’ of the
‘glorious’ national athletics past on behalf of women. It is also significant that some
decades later and in a totally different setting, the quest of ‘Greekness’ in female
bodily culture legitimized women’s claims for a renewed and dynamic, – that is,
hegemonic – national role within the public sphere: that of shaping mass national
culture and performing the ‘tradition’ of the nation. This article discusses these two
very different cases of mid- and upper-class Greek women’s use of classical antiquity
in relation to female bodily culture.
The first case focuses on the discourse formulated on the occasion of the 1896
Athens Olympics (and to a lesser extend the Athens Intermediate Olympics of 1906)
by the Ladies’ Journal (1887–1917), the periodical which gave expression to the first
wave of middle-class women’s protest in Greece, and its editor Callirhoe Parren
(1859–1940). Parren was the first to introduce feminism in Greece and to elaborate a
moderate version of ‘emancipation through education and paid work’, before the
vote was claimed by the organized feminist movement of the interwar period. [1]
50

This later period is mainly examined through the second case of this article. This
analyses the spectacular ‘great national festivals’ organized by the Lyceum of Greek
Women, a prominent organization which played host to a wide spectrum of social/
reformist activities of mid- and upper-class Greek women during this period. [2] The
‘revival’, standardization and diffusion of the Greek folk dances as ‘surviving
remnants’ of the ancient dances, was one of the Lyceum’s prominent activities, which
shaped the ideal of female bodily culture elaborated by the association and performed
within the framework of its celebrations.
In our analysis of these two very different cases of a quest for ‘Greekness’ in female
bodily culture – the first concerning discursive practices while the second symbolic
and performative ones – the notion of the ‘invented tradition’ will be a useful tool,
especially for the second case. [3] Moreover, what principally leads our analysis is the
attempt to point out that both cases constructed ‘bodies that differ’ in terms of
gender, nationalism and social class. Besides, these two cases are connected through a
more tangible historical given: C. Parren and her close female associates in the Ladies’
Journal were also the founders of the Lyceum of Greek Women.
I. Inventing a National Female Athletics Past: The Ladies’ Journal, Women’s

Emancipation and the Athens Olympics of 1896 and 1906
In accordance with the prominent modernistic, pedagogical paradigm of the time, in
fin de siècle Greece the Ladies’ Journal was the principal medium in which the
articulation of the discourse which advocated the necessity for an equal participation
of male and female youth in physical education took shape. The main argumentation
of the modernistic discourse can be summarized as follows: [4] On the one hand,
collective gymnastics within school was a basic means of cultivating the feeling of
participation into the imaginary national community; on the other, reinforcing
physical training, properly adapted to the specificities of the age and sex of school
population, would be a main channel of modernization of the whole educational
system so far based on ‘scholastic’ and excessive intellectual work, alien to ‘practical’
and ‘useful’ needs, inadequate to the ‘vivid’ nature of childhood and youth and a
serious threat to the health of the nation’s future generations. Within this discourse,
female physical education, so far neglected even in private girls schools, constituted a
special issue, mainly as it concerned adolescence: in the case of young girls, the
excessive intellectual work was particularly questioned as infecting their capacity of
reproduction and, by extension, the health and strength of the ‘race’. The linking of
nationalism and irredentism with arguments drawn from the ideas of social
Darwinism resulted in shaping a milieu and a trend particularly favourable for the
promotion of girls’ gymnastics. It is indicative that this trend decisively and
systematically passed from theory to educational practice, especially after the
particular juncture of 1896–1897: that is, after the Olympic Games, in which the
Greek athletes’ achievements in the stadium nurtured the expectations for ‘future
victories in the field of battle’, while one year later, the humiliating defeat of Greece in
51

the Greco-Turkish war dramatically contradicted these expectations, leading to a real

national crisis and collective trauma. This defeat was the first serious challenge of
irredentism and the expansionist versions of the national ‘Great Idea’, the Megali
Idea.
In this climate, the health and physical development of future mothers of the
nation gained a particular and unprecedented importance, mobilizing to some extend
pedagogical circles, voluntary associations (gymnastics and sports clubs and women’s
collective action) as well as the State. Overall, in the 1890s, after the necessity for
equal access to physical exercise for both sexes was theoretically established through
various arguments – nationalist, disciplinary, hygienist, medical, etc. – attention
turned to a special field of gendered debate, that is, the normalization of physical
exercise ‘proper’ for female youth, according to the ‘specificity’ of woman’s ‘nature’
and the social ‘predestination’ dictated by this ‘nature’; or, in other words, to the
precise content of ‘difference’ in bodily culture between the sexes, according to
various social constructs of ‘femininity’ and ‘masculinity’. [5]
The Ladies’ Journal reproduces all facets of this debate for female physical exercise
structured around the ‘difference’ of woman’s ‘nature’, mainly through translations of
essays written by Western women pedagogues, doctors and hygienists. But at the same
time it defends women’s access to physical exercise, as well as to knowledge, in the
name of abstract common human rights and of equal individual needs between the two
sexes. What distinguishes the journal’s discourse, especially its editor’s C. Parren,
compared to dominant views in the domestic version of the discussion, is the
association of the female physical exercise issue with the ‘woman’s question’ as a social
question, that is, with the notions of equality and ‘emancipation’ as articulated by the
journal. The so-called ‘natural’ female physiological-psychical weakness and excessive
sensibility is strongly questioned and mostly attributed to social conditions and
conventions of women’s existence, mainly within mid- and upper- urban social strata;
it is, furthermore, considered as a symptom of women’s subordination within a
longstanding and oppressive male order. This assumed ‘natural’ weakness is, then,
perceived as the effect of deprivation from what is natural, as a result of alienation. In
Parren’s discourse in particular, the frequent dynamic representations of trained young
female bodies become basic metaphors of re-appropriation of the fundamental human
substance, basic symbols of freedom and self-dependency, tokens of resistance to male
oppression. However, in addition to their liberating qualities, these bodies, destined to
fulfil the ‘beautiful and laborious task of maternity’, are praised as the safest guarantee
of the future strength and flourishing of the race. Hence, more than a human right,
women’s access to physical training becomes a patriotic duty, imposed by biology. [6]
This argument tends to dominate the discourse of the Ladies’ Journal and the
writings of its editor, after the defeat of 1897 onwards. But this is more than a simple
reproduction of the dominant argument in favour of women’s physical exercise. In
the context of the national crisis provoked by the defeat and in the breach opened
into the hardcore of nationalist ideology by the first breakdown of the Megali Idea, C.
Parren elaborates a broad ‘regenerative’ female mission in the public space, led by
52

women of the middle- and upper-social strata: it fell to their lot to reactivate the
nation and to shape the coming generations with the ‘vital power’ of ‘Hellenism’,
which, in Parren’s view, refers exclusively to the ancient Greek past and ideal. This
‘regenerative’ mission had motherhood in its core. It was legitimized in the name of
the maternal ‘nature’ shared by all women, but motherhood was re-defined as a
collective duty and service towards the nation-state. Thus, a claim to citizenship was
justified on behalf of women, presupposing full possession of civil and social rights
(political rights were left aside for the time being). This citizenship was concretized,
according to Parren, through women’s own ‘politics’: that is, their voluntary
philanthropic and educational activities which were directed to women and children
of the petit-bourgeois and working-class strata. The entire ideological construct gave
meaning to – and drew additional legitimization from – women’s mass mobilization
during the war of 1897 and their multifaceted patriotic action which had established
their collective presence within the public space. [7] Among the philanthropic and
educational activities, the School of Women Physical Educators (Scholi Gymnas-
trion), founded by the Union of Greek Women in 1897 was directly associated to the
defeat and to the ‘regenerative’ women’s mission by the Ladies’ Journal: the School’s
girls, ‘those small battalions of women of tomorrow’, by making strong the female
bodies and souls would actually reform the contemporary generation of men, whose
‘softness’ and ‘degeneration’, inherited of course by their mothers, had been so
dramatically demonstrated by the war. [8]
As we have argued elsewhere (Fournaraki, ‘The Olympism of the Ladies’), the
tension that permeates the journal’s discourse between equality and difference, rights
and duties, emancipation and motherhood, did not favour the entirely unreserved
and unambivalent defence of ‘excessive’ athletic forms of exercise and sport on behalf
of women; nor did it favour the full recognition, in women’s case, of competitive
individualistic values of sport or of its purely recreational character as a free leisure
activity; finally, it did not favour the formulation of any explicit demand of women’s
participation in the Athens 1896 Olympic events.
However, as it concerns the Olympic Games of 1896, in Parren’s discourse the
sense of exclusion is clearly present. From the very beginning, she spoke of the
‘unjust and unreasonable proscription’ of her sex from the Games both of antiquity
and of the modern world, a result not of the inadequate practice of physical
exercise among women, but of the enduring male-dominated order of things,
which imposes the rules here too. But the journal’s criticisms are principally
directed against male partiality, which tacitly imposed women’s exclusion,
regarding it as self-evident. [9]
The Ladies’ Journal protest is particularly vivid as it concerns women’s exclusion
from active participation in the cultural events that accompanied the Olympic
Games of 1896, a stance which, according to Parren, completely underestimated
Greek women’s collective action, that is, voluntary associations, as a constituent
part of civil society. Thus, although the Ladies’ Journal did not advocate women’s
right to participate as athletes neither during the 1896 Athens Olympic Games nor
53

during the Athens Intermediate Olympics of 1906, it developed a discourse which

attempted to appropriate in a variety of ways the great athletic and cultural events
of the games in question on behalf of the female sex. History, or to be more exact,
that privileged imaginary field of indefinite time and space that supplies history
mixed up with mythology, was fundamental for such a discursive and symbolic
‘appropriation’.
The digressions into antiquity with which the editor of the Ladies’ Journal
occasionally garnishes her discourse about the 1896 Olympics (and to a lesser extend
about Intermediate Olympics of 1906) can be approached, regardless of their
historical accuracy, as an attempt to (re)-construct a distant past in which women’s
athletics and competitive activities had been possible or even socially acceptable; they
can be approached, that is, as attempts to ‘problematize’ exclusion in the present time
as well as to create an ideal of female athletics legitimized by the national past and
consistent with the ethos of contemporary women of mid- and upper- social strata.
In doing so, C. Parren was ‘engendering’ the dominant narrative of the ancient Greek
athletic past. [10]
Parren’s narrative of women’s athletic past begins with a reference to the dynamic
mythical Amazons who frequently stand, in other Parren’s writings, as a metaphor
for female beauty and freedom, see power, although not without some ambivalence.
In her essay on women and the Olympics, the Amazons are represented as obscure
and indeterminate creatures, equivalent to the most distant, mysterious and
shrouded par excellence in myth past; they also acquire a negative connotation: their
warlike nature made them fearless and independent, but also harsh and arrogant,
particularly towards the male members of their tribe. But this warlike ‘nature’ is
directly associated to excessive physical training: the Amazons owed this loss of basic
feminine characteristics to their ‘greater devotion to bodily exercise’. [11] Thus,
leaving behind these shadowy, masculine and somewhat exotic figures, leaving also
behind the extraordinary but more ‘feminine’ figure of the mythical runner and
hunter Atalanta, Parren’s discourse focuses on the sun-drenched and verdant land of
sacred Olympia: on those Greek women who, without betraying the ‘virtues’ and the
‘dignity’ of their sex and their aristocratic descent, enjoyed the exceptional privilege
of taking part, both directly and indirectly, in competitive events. More particularly,
Parren refers to the women’s right to participate in the chariot-races of Olympia as
owners of horses and discusses in detail the Heraia ‘foot-race for maidens’ held and
performed – as she says – by women of ‘aristocratic families’ of Elis in Olympia,
within the context of festivals in honour of Hera. [12] Indeed, every four years (not
five, as Parren wrongly mentions), aristocratic women of Elis organized three foot-
races for three different age-groups of young women (not necessarily of aristocratic
descent and probably not only indigenous), in the same stadium as the Olympic
Games. [13]
The reconstruction of the past of the Heraia becomes, then, the main channel for
criticism of exclusion in the present. The modern organizers of the Olympic Games,
‘with all the equality of the two sexes that has been slowly albeit universally
54

acknowledged, with all the freedoms that woman has acquired’, ‘have spoken not a
word about women, either in their invitations or in their programmes’; not a single
article of the relevant regulations refers to ‘women athletes’, ‘nor has any exercise
been appointed in which they would be able to compete, even among themselves’. On
the contrary, the ancient founders of the Olympic Games, ‘with all the [. . .]
restrictions to which women were condemned at that time, [. . .] set up special
contests for women [. . .]’. [14] But what seems more important according to the
editor of the Ladies’ Journal is the fact that in the Heraia games the women competed
‘on virtually the same terms as the men’. An image of total equality is, then,
elaborated by the author: participation in the games demanded female bodies equally
‘well and systematically trained’; the prizes were awarded by women judges of
aristocratic birth, and in the same ritual and reverential atmosphere; the victors were
crowned, as were the men, with a wreath from the sacred olive. Above all, the victors
at the Heraia were entitled to the same immortality among mortals: they had the
same entitlement to honour and glory among relatives and fellow-citizens, but also to
‘jealousy’ between competitors. In other words, they shared equally with men all the
powerful feelings produced by success, which accompany the victors for ever
throughout their lives. [15]
Nevertheless, according to this idealized image of the Heraia, these ancient Greek
female runners had nothing masculine about their movements, which were full of
‘grace and freedom’. By way of contrast to the Amazons, the figures of the Heraia
runners are represented either as elegant and ethereal, virtually dematerialized,
‘gliding rather than walking, flying rather than running’, or as strikingly female (read
erotically provocative), with their light tunic to the knees ‘and so far off the right
shoulder as to leave the breast almost bare’ and with their ‘hair abundant and loose’
covering ‘like a silk veil their snowy-white and sculpted shoulders’. [16] Brief, they
provided an incomparable spectacle ‘of beauty and picturesqueness’, worthy of the
characteristics of their sex. [17] Thus, in this ancestral model of women’s athletics,
moderate and tasteful, even this public display of femininity, free and without
bashfulness because of the needs of exercise, did not seem to threaten either female
virtue or the dignity of high breeding.
Hence, the Heraia were perceived as a spectacle of high aesthetics which, in
addition to other events involving women in honour of the goddess of marriage, had
a ‘much more sacred character’ than the men’s Olympic Games: in the contests of
Heraia, ‘human blood was not spilt, nor noses broken, or teeth uprooted, or eyes
gouged out, or ears and lips cut off’. [18] The contrast between the descriptions of
these two models of competition is obvious in Parren’s discourse: on the one hand,
the male Olympic Games, which turned ‘the sanctuary of the Altis into a wrestling-
ground of barbarians, where handsome youths in their prime were mutilated,
swimming in their blood to the cheers and applause of the spectators’, and, on the
other, the peaceful women’s festivals of the Heraia, which represented par excellence
the values of beauty, moderation and reverence. The very origin of these festivals also
attested the humane and peaceable feelings of the female sex since, according to the
55

myth reproduced by C. Parren, they had been established in order to honour the
successful initiative of the women of Elis in reconciling their men folk with a hostile
neighbouring community. [19] Through this argument, a special female ideal of
competition was constructed which, being juxtaposed to the cruelty and inhumanity
of the men’s games, appropriated the ‘true’ essence of competition and the most
noble values created by ancient Greek civilization.
Curiously, this negative representation of the ancient Greek Olympic Games was
converted into a justification of the salutary effects attributed to the preservation of
separate gender ‘roles’ and ‘spheres’ in ancient Greek society, according to a specific
imaginary view of private-public relationship. It was precisely the ‘barbarity’ of
male athletic competitions, together with the ‘total nudity’ of the bodies it required,
that provided the editor of the Ladies’ Journal with the basis for a rational
explanation for the austere prohibition of female attendance in the ancient Olympic
Games: If ‘men of the genius and intelligence of our ancestors’, explains Parren,
prohibited on pain of death even women’s physical presence at the Olympic
Games, this was because, in honouring the particular feelings of women’s ‘nature’,
their innate compassion and tenderness, as well as their inherent sense of modesty,
they wanted to protect women from a spectacle that offended these feelings. [20]
The sight of the ‘brutality’ of the men’s games, ‘arousing the love of humanity,
innate in woman’s heart’, would prompt mothers to forbid their children to take
part in them; but most importantly, through the force of habit and with the
passage of time, these feelings would have been blunted, making women ‘harsh,
inhuman, without pity’. [21] Within this framework, women’s role was actually
perceived as the antithesis of the competitive male values of the public sphere (i.e.
in war, politics, the market or sport) and consisted in safeguarding all those
essentially different (read morally superior) ‘feminine’ values of peace, solidarity,
friendship, inner tranquillity and prosperity – without the counterbalancing
function of which the very essence of the male/public sphere would have been
alienated and the complete dominance of its values would have been the cause of ‘ills’
or even of ‘hell’, as Parren writes. [22] Therefore, according to this argument, the
strict female attendance prohibition from the Olympic Games of antiquity was
converted into the necessary price which women had to pay in order to safeguard
the values of their allocated private sphere and keep them intact from any intrusion
of the public/male values, clearly perceived as non-autonomous and subordinate to
those of private life. In the last analysis in Parren’s discourse, the private/feminine
sphere is not simply the complementary antithesis of- and of equal value with the
public/male sphere, it is its superior. As a result of a possible overthrowing of the
division of gender ‘roles’, this ‘hell’ brought about by the invasion of public values
into private life and, consequently, by the cancellation of the latter’s counter-
balancing functions, would have disturbed the overall balance between public and
private on which the social order seemed to be based. This is how the exclusion of
women from a ‘manly’ activity (in this case from the war-like athletic games) was
converted into a salutary strategy for the overall preservation of social order.
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Through the above gendered narrative of the most glorious national athletics
‘heritage’, a special female competitive-athletic ‘tradition’ was ‘invented’– if we may
use the notion of the ‘invented tradition’ for a primarily discursive construct – and an
ideal of female bodily culture was constructed, on behalf of women of middle- and
upper-social strata.
As a matter of fact, within the Ladies’ Journal discourse this ideal gained its full
social meaning through its direct juxtaposition to the totally negative representation
of the body of a woman ‘of the people’, Stamati(n)a Revithi (or Rovithi), the only
woman who, according to all relevant evidence, attempted to take part in the first
modern Olympic Games and did succeed in participating in the periphery of the
event. The Athenian dailies refer to S. Revithi as a very poor woman from Piraeus
(originally from the island of Syros), probably a widowed or unmarried mother of
perhaps more than one children, who presented herself with her baby in her arms
before the Olympic Committee at the end of February 1896, asking to compete in the
marathon race with the hope of some kind of economic reward in case she succeeded.
The members of the Committee rejected her application as ‘overdue’, while it seems
that they also questioned Revithi’s ability to carry out such an endeavour, especially
in conventional female attire. In spite of the official rejection Revithi did not give up,
probably encouraged by some publicity that her case had won and the sympathizing
attitude of some journalists, especially after she ran, by way of a trial, the distance
from Marathon to the centre of Athens. In the end, seeing that the Committee would
not permit her to participate in the Marathon race of 29 March 1896, she ran it alone
the next day. She made sure that she acquired official documentation to substantiate
her feat, including a certificate verifying the time of departure signed by the mayor,
the judge and the teacher of Marathon as well as the time of arrival at the Olympic
stadium, vouched with a signed statement by military officers that were stationed
near the stadium. [23]
Parren did not hide her strong disapproval of Revithi’s undertaking. Without
doubt, her ideal of ‘hellenic-worthy’ female bodily culture, especially represented by
the aesthetically idealized bodies of the maiden runners of the Heraia, had nothing to
do with that regrettable, marginal appearance of a ‘woman of the mob’ who,
‘barefoot’, ‘dishevelled’, ‘in a full-length garment’, sought persistently to compete in
the Marathon race, in the obvious hope of financial reward. [24] Within the Ladies’
Journal discourse, the image of Revithi, defined by the totally negative meaning
assigned to her lower-class status and characteristics, stands out as the absolute
opposite, the ‘countertype’ (G. Mosse’s term), [25] which permitted the further
valorization of the ‘magnificent spectacle’ provided by the maiden runners of ancient
Elis. This countertype also contrasted to modern bourgeois models of trained female
bodies, with the ‘picturesque’ garments suitable for the occasion, and with all the
beauty, the skill and the propriety which one would expect from these bodies.
Undermining then, these models, Revithi’s exploit, which was inspired by ‘sordid’
financial incentives and had no noble ‘ambition’, stands out at the opposite extreme
of amateur athletics as a hallmark of the middle- and upper-social strata. As Parren
57

sums up, ‘she is quite simply a woman of the mob, ugly, without even expressive
features, without the motive of ambition for distinction and honour, competing
alongside men. Quite simply, she sought to take part in the Games in the hope of a
monetary reward, with which to provide for her daughter’. [26]
As the undertaking of the Athens 1896 Olympics neared its completion, the initial
concerns and doubts of the Ladies’ Journal about the success of the games and about
Greece’s ability to be represented with dignity dissolved and the journal’s stance
changed radically. Following the general trend, the discourse of the journal and its
editor now turns towards the apotheosis of the athletic spectacle and of the trained
male body while, as the victories of Greek athletes began, this body is more and more
appropriated by the nationalistic rhetoric, is more and more ‘hellenized’.
In the context of exaltation of national feelings provoked by the Greek athletes’
performance in the 1896 Greek Championship Games (9–10 March), which preceded
the Olympics, interesting displacements and redefinitions in nationalistic rhetoric can
be detected, expressed in a paradigmatic way by the Ladies’ Journal discourse. [27] The
persistent invocation of the Greek nation’s achievements in letters and science as the
safest ground for claiming a share in ‘progress’ and for forging a link with antiquity as
well as with Western modernity was gradually abandoned. In its place, the cult of
athletic achievements as a ‘predisposition’ that the Greek race, above all the other races,
‘inherited’ from the ancient ancestors unfolded. Thus, the previously despised lack of any
athletic training and tradition is now converted into a great advantage: by presenting
athletic performance as a result of ‘inherited’ physical and psychological qualities, this
deficiency is turned into irrefutable evidence of the Modern Greeks’ ‘noble’ descent and
of the ‘purity’ of the Greek ‘race’ – see, of its natural superiority.
Within this nationalist rhetoric which drew upon the vocabulary of social
Darwinism and eugenics, the concept of the superiority of the race is mediated, and
symbolically reinforced, by the metaphors of ‘nobility’ and also of ‘manliness’ of
body and soul, commonly attributed to physical exercise. In this context, natural
robustness, manliness and aristocratic descent make up an indivisible entity of
symbolisms of power and superiority. At the same time, motherhood is modified into
the necessary and sufficient condition for women’s association with the Olympics and
the imaginary national community itself. Within the Ladies’ Journal’s exemplary
narrative of the athletics spectacle as a symbolic ritual of national unification it was
women, among all spectators, who in the end would ‘carry off the greatest triumph’.
[28] Thus, in Parren’s discourse, without it being necessary for women to compete or
to provide any other ‘sign of life and existence’, they finally appropriated the event by
the means of the very essence of their sex.
Overall, this type of argumentation was displacing the centre of gravity from the
principally cultural perception of national ‘continuity’, from the emphasis, that is, on
cultural characteristics – such as letters, science, democracy – that make up the
argument for the superiority of the ‘West’ and of the ancient Greek model as opposed
to the ‘East’, towards the organic body itself, its qualities and tendencies, racial
characteristics and the principle of heredity. Through this ‘biological’ language and
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its assumed scientific authority, already established nationalist stereotypes invoking

an ahistorical, fixed and unalloyed ‘Hellenic’ ‘character’ were reinvigorated, shaping
the dominant legitimating argument of direct descent from the ancient Greeks and of
the organic continuity of the nation. This ‘biologising’ justification of national descent
and continuity reinforced the self-sufficiency of ‘Hellenism’ in the face of the ‘West’,
as a general idea and more particularly as a justification for the development of
Modern Greeks’ athletic competence: it was perceived as the necessary cultivation of
an ‘indigenous’ quality and not as a process of apprenticeship in a modern Western
institution. It is precisely this idea that dominated the Ladies’ Journal narrative of the
Athens’ Olympics of 1896, formulating a discourse about sport that constructed the
national identity in contrast not to the ‘backward’ ‘East’ but to the ‘advanced’
Western nations.
What shaped the logical core of the argument in this discourse is the total
dissociation of physical achievements from education, science and technique. This
dissociation made Modern Greek’s athletic competence to appear as stemming
exclusively from a fundamental and primary natural aptitude which is particular to
the Greek ‘race’. This aptitude distinguished Greeks from the athletically advanced
Western peoples whose more ‘industrialized’ athleticism is principally based on
technique, method and hard training. Through such comparisons-juxtapositions,
persistently reproduced in C. Parren’s narrative of the 1896 games, the journal’s
editor constructs an essentially male, and specifically ‘manly’, Greek physical-athletic
‘character’, through which the more general national ‘character’ is manifested. Here,
however, history plays its part. The fundamental traits of this ‘character’ were
bequeathed to Modern Greek athletes – and generally ‘people’– first and foremost by
their ancient Greek forefathers and the aesthetically strong taste of physical training
they had developed. Moreover, inherent athletic ability was viewed as bequeathed by
more recent ancestors as well: the heroic fathers of the period of the ottoman rule (i.e.
the klephts/bandits) and of the Greek War of Independence, who ‘became men’ in
fighting the conqueror, thus particularly developing the inclinations and abilities of
the ‘battling nation’. [29] By investing various athletic events (‘ancient’ or ‘modern’)
with specific meanings and values re-affirming the ‘inherited’ qualities, almost all
sports, regardless of the success of Greek athletes in them, were appropriated on
behalf of the Greek physical-athletic ‘character’ and ‘continuity’ with the forefathers –
ancient and modern – was declared.
These ideological constructs, serving the needs of Modern Greek identity as
opposed to the industrialized nations of the West, are at the same time critical to
some aspects of the modernity of sport. In contrast, principally, to the ancient Greek
athletic model, which combines health and robustness with the ‘beauty’, the
‘harmony’ and the ‘plasticity’ of movement, modern Western sport is represented as
based exclusively on the pursuit of record, the cultivation of technique and
development of the ‘mechanical’ part of the exercise, and, by extension, the
formation of the ‘body-machine’ of the present industrial age. This criticism, which
was not exceptional in contemporary Greek discourses about sport, [30] in this case
59

was mostly founded upon a specific reconstruction of the ancient Greek model, the one
inspired by the cult of the male athlete as represented in classical art. [31] Aestheticism,
then, blended with elitism and some kind of racism, becomes the main channel of
perception of modern sport; as we have seen, the identification of the very ideal of
bodily strength and beauty with ‘distinguished’ social – or ‘racial’– origins was rife in
Parren’s discourse, expressing concerns of social distinction through sport. Even
though aestheticism and elitism were basic constituent parts of the evolving Olympic
ideology of the late nineteenth century, in Parren’s writings are presented in opposition
to other fundamental elements of Olympism and of modern sport in general, for
instance the intensification of muscular strength which builds ‘character’. [32]
Nothing illustrates better the Ladies’ Journal circumspection or ambivalence for
modern sport than its editor’s sharp criticism of cycling, a principal modernistic
symbol and at the same time, in the case of Western countries at least, one of the
most popular sports and among the first to be opened up to the masses. In Parren’s
descriptions of the 1896 Olympics, the cyclist appears as the absolute opposite, the
‘countertype’, of the ancient Greek ideal of beauty and harmony of the male body in
training and as the extreme paradigm of the ‘body-machine’ shaped by the
athleticism of ‘advanced’ Western people. [33] As such, the bicycle becomes even
more ‘suspicious’ in the case of the female sex in general, and of mid- and upper-
class Greek women in particular. Cycling appears as an ‘alien’ vogue, adopted for
reasons of ostentation. It appears, furthermore, as an exercise threatening femininity.
The argument typically illustrates, I believe, the strong influence of classicism,
aestheticism and elitism in Parren’s perception of modern sport in general, and, in
regard to women of her class, in particular.
Ten years later, on the occasion of the Athens 1906 Intermediate Olympics, C.
Parren would give very ‘eloquent’ evidence of her ambivalence concerning the
relation of women – and woman’s ‘nature’ – to sport: in contrast to her enthusiasm
over the spectacular display of Swedish gymnastics presented by the Danish
professional women gymnasts at the opening ceremony of the games, she was
completely silent regarding the first successful appearance of Greek women in an
Olympic event, in tennis. [34] It is true that this novelty of young women of the
Athenian ‘elite’ practising some ‘luxury’ sports such as tennis, rowing or horse-riding
left rather indifferent the Ladies’ Journal. But more than women’s sportive activity
itself, what mostly provoked C. Parren’s strong disapproval was the display of this
activity in public. On the eve of the Intermediate Olympiad of 1906, C. Parren will
categorically condemn the public display of athletic achievements in the case of
future mothers: if young girls train, she says, it is because they ‘obey a natural law of
health and robustness not only of our sex, but of the whole of our race’; but ‘there is
no reason for them to descent into public arenas and demonstrate their progress and
their success in sport’. [35]
In fact, C. Parren had other expectations for female participation in this second
international athletic festival of Athens, which gave her the opportunity to express
her disappointment: since the 1896 revival of the Olympic Games the Western model
60

of sport had dominated to the detriment of the ‘resurrection of the cult of what is
fine’, which characterized the ancestral model. Hence regarding the 1906
Intermediate Olympics she did not expect ‘victors in beauty’ to emerge, not even
from among the Greek athletes, since for 10 years ‘the work of preparation of the
gymnastics associations has been confined to the mechanical part of the exercises
only’. [36] It is noteworthy that these views were now contextualized within a
broader critique launched by the Ladies’ Journal in those years, which concentrated
on the abusive uses of physical exercise of the youth; on the unhealthy effects, that is,
caused by the excessive and irregular exercise of muscular strength, in view of the
intensive preparation for a specific competition or a gymnastics display in school.
However, what was basically at stake in Parren’s discourse about modern Olympics
remained the neglect of beauty by modern sport practices and the invocation of the
paradigmatic ancestral model.
To counterbalance the under-representation of beauty at the Athens
Intermediate Olympics, Parren proposed the ‘resurrection’ of the Panathenaic
procession. This was the latest strategy put forward for the appropriation of the
event by women, and, of course, by the nation, since it would seal the Olympics
with a genuine Hellenic festival of ‘beauty’. Parren described in all its
magnificence the re-establishment of aspects of the Panathenaea, the ancient
Athenian religious and athletic festival, thus inventing a monumental ritual
worthy to symbolize, within the Olympic institution, its Hellenic origins:
hundreds of ‘maidens’ ‘from the most beautiful and stalwart’, in ancient costume
and bearing baskets of flowers, would adorn the prize-giving ceremony with their
presence, and would immediately afterwards accompany the prize-winners and the
crowds in a sacred pilgrimage to the Parthenon. Such a bright ceremony would
serve, furthermore, to blazon abroad Greece’s rightful demand of holding the
Olympic Games permanently in the land which gave birth to them. [37]
This proposal of the editor of the Ladies’ Journal went unheard at the time. It is
noteworthy, however, that within the framework of the next Olympic festival held in
Athens almost 30 years later, that is, the celebration of the fortieth anniversary of the
Revival of the Olympic Games in 1934, together with the representation of ‘classical
athletics games’, a variation of Parren’s original idea was to be materialized,
containing this double ritual in the Panathenaic Stadium and in Acropolis: ‘wreath-
bearing maidens’ in archaic attire would crown all the countries’ flags in the
Parthenon and processions would be performed in the Stadium (together with
‘national dances’). Officially responsible for these rituals on behalf of the Hellenic
Olympic Committee (EOA) was the Lyceum of Greek Women (hereafter Lyceum),
an organisation that Parren founded in 1911. [38] By 1934, the Lyceum had been
established in public consciousness through monumental festivals, which, by means
of processions, displays of costumes and dances of different eras of ‘Hellenism’,
represented the ‘glorious’ past and the present of the Greek nation.
According to Greek press reports, the first festival of the sort organized by the
Lyceum in 1914 (see later) reminded of the ‘glorious’ days of the Panathenaic
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Stadium during the great Olympic events of 1896 and 1906. According to all
accounts, this feminine organization was a pioneer in the use of the Stadium for this
type of mass festive events. [39] More specifically, it was a pioneer in presenting, in a
venue charged with strong antique symbolism, folk dances and costumes, not as an
isolated event within gymnastics displays (practice rare before the 1910s), [40] but as
an organic part of rituals performing the diachronic idea of ‘Hellenism’.
II. Female Bodies and the Nationalization of Folk Dances: The Anthesteria of the
Lyceum of Greek Women as a ‘Genuine’ Greek May Day Celebration (1911)
The first significant public event sponsored by the Lyceum of Greek Women was its
attempt to ‘restore’ the ‘authentic’ Greek May Day celebration. The festival
Anthesteria organized by the Lyceum in the Zappeion Hall in 1911, clearly followed
the logic of invented tradition: by invoking the homonymous ‘festival of the spring
flowers’, which was celebrated in ancient Athens, the ladies of the Lyceum set as their
expressed aim the establishment of an ‘official’ May Day ceremony in an indisputably
Hellenic fashion (Parren, ‘Niki’), in contradistinction to similar festivities of ‘foreign
origin’, involving the offering of flowers, parades of flower-bedecked floats and
flower-fights, as well as to the usual popular festivities ‘with garlic, drums and blind-
drunkenness’. [41]
To the dispersed (geographically and socially) current practices of celebrating May
Day, the Lyceum was to counter-propose the invention of a strictly standardized
annual ceremonial. Combining a high degree of affectation and an overtly national-
unifying character, the Lyceum’s May Day festival would seek, through dance and
music, to integrate contemporary folk customs of the Greek countryside with their
‘roots’ in the most remote and glorious ‘national’ past. If the source of inspiration for
inventing a national ‘tradition’ of celebrating May Day was sought in Antiquity, the
basic concept of the celebratory event was to present ‘our old and our new life in a
lovely combination, a most picturesque and poetic fraternity’, as the Lyceum’s
President, C. Parren, writes (Logodosia 1911: 29). Hence a combination of dance,
music and costume was to provide the symbolic/ceremonial raw material which,
with the appropriate artistic interventions, would serve this idea of co-fraternity of
‘old’ and ‘new Hellenism’, through the acceptance of one basic precept: the direct
descent of the contemporary folk dances from the ancient ‘circle dances’. The
refined, and in fact highly ‘Europeanized’, performance of the folk dances by ‘girls
of our best families’ (Logodosia, op. cit.), most of them dressed in ancient-style
garments, was the strongest symbolic code of this festive endeavour, [42] allowing
the equally symbolic ‘catharsis’ of the dances from every trait of their Balkan, that
is ‘Eastern’, past.
This perception of the origin of Neohellenic dances was not without precedent. It
had already been established in the approach to Greek folk songs since the early
nineteenth century, [43] while it had been expressed in scholarly terms since the
1880s, by the new discipline of Greek Laographia, that is, ‘Folklore Studies’, which
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adopted a nationalist and historical approach to the Greek people and its culture:
the ‘manifestations’ of folk culture were apprehended as ‘monuments of Hellenic
Antiquity that live on in today’s Greek people’, in the famous words of N. G.
Politis, the founding-father of Greek Laographia. [44] However, for the first time in
the Anthesteria in 1911, in a venue such as the Neoclassical Zappeion Hall and
through the girls ‘of the high society’ of Athens, this concept was to acquire flesh
and blood, in the framework of a public spectacle; for the first time it would be
articulated entirely into a cohesive ceremonial performance that places on stage the
diachronic idea of ‘Hellenism’. Here lies the innovative character of the endeavour,
as well as the dynamic of invented tradition and not, of course, in the possibility of
folk dances being seen by an urban public or the development of a ‘taste’ for
dances of this kind by the middle classes. [45] Even though the celebration was
based largely on ceremonial elements and ‘materials’ used in and familiar from
public events and entertainments, as a whole it created a new narrative in the
context of May Day. Through the set annual repetition of the Lyceum’s Anthesteria,
the May Day celebration would become a central stage of participation, through
performance, in the national community as well as a means of inculcating national
values.
This dimension underlies all the discourses articulated around the May Day event
of the Lyceum and the work its members presented there. This ‘venerable monument
of national education’, according to one newspaper reader, succeeded – as it is
frequently pointed out – in moving everyone, ‘regardless of social positions’; [46] and
as one other journalist characteristically asked: ‘How can it be conveyed, especially
the unanimity of the joyous urge which brought there that countless crowd of all
social backgrounds?’. [47] Indeed, nothing conveys more vividly the dynamic of
invented tradition than the fact that in the Anthesteria of the Lyceum each one was
able to ‘see’ what he/she wished. As emerges from the enthusiastic descriptions and
comments in a broad ideological spectrum of the Athenian Press, advocates of the
‘adulation’ of Antiquity trend (‘archaists’), champions of the ‘demotic’ (vernacular)
language (‘demoticists’) as well as admirers of the country life and customs were all
able to appropriate in equal terms this highly eclectic and symbolically polysemous
festive event that took place in the Zappeion. [48]
However, as a matter of fact, the Lyceum’s approach was guided by the dominant
concept of a ‘historical’ (not a ‘primitive’) ‘Greek people’ and the particular prism of
Greek Laographia, which gave precedence to the antiquarian interest of modern folklore
phenomena. The approach to the ‘image’ of those phenomena through the ‘mirror’ of
antiquarianism [49] had been solidly embedded in the discourse and the practices of the
Lyceum when it organized the Anthesteria. It is evidenced by the lecture delivered by
Parren in the Hall of the ‘Parnassos’ cultural association shortly before the organization
of the Anthesteria. In this lecture, the leader of the Lyceum ‘demonstrated’ the
‘identification’ of ancient and Modern Greek dances, on the basis of the similarity of
their names and the affinity between the dance poses depicted ‘on ancient vases’ and
contemporary dancing practices. [50] Concurrently, the Lyceum’s amateur dancers’
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visits to the Archaeological Museum in order to study poses depicted on vases at close
hand – a practice known from representatives, such as Isadora Duncan, of the Neo-
Romantic current of reforming contemporary dance on the basis of the ancient Greek
model [51] – bears witness to the objective of ‘ennobling’ and ‘idealizing’ the dances of
the countryside through their ‘assimilation’ to Archaic and Classical models. The
preceding words in quotation marks come from a publication concerning Greek dances,
composed some years later (in 1914) by Anna (Nina) Krestenitou, dance director
(ephor) of the Lyceum and basic contributor to the Anthesteria. [52] This publication
studies extensively the ancient dances. Having embodied the concept of the ‘historical
people’, the text has no need either to explain or to define its object: it goes without
saying that anyone wishing to study the contemporary dances must turn to the ancient
ones. With a strong dose of aestheticism and through reference to vague affinities with
antiquity, [53] the text legitimizes the modern dances as ‘admirable relics’ of the
ancestral ones; mainly, however, it legitimizes and establishes antiquarianism as a
necessary process for the ‘correct’ understanding and, therefore, rendering and
performing of contemporary folk dances.
Callirhoe Parren, in her own version of the laographic perspective, makes apparent
both the limits of evaluation of folk culture and the corrective dynamic of invented
traditions:
Many say that they did not know the Greek dances. You did know them disguised,
incomprehensible, as the centuries corrupted them, as the graceless garment weighed
them down, as the woman’s slavery overshadowed them.
And she continues:
You knew them not as Greeks, but as cosmopolitans. As men who had forgotten that
Greece has its own autonomous existence, its own beauty, its own treasures, which
had not only remained hidden under the earth and upon it in the beautiful and
dismembered marbles, but also in this present soul of the race. The provinces and
the villages from which the Greek dances had not been exiled entirely could not
present them to you with the glory of their old beauty. (throughout the essay
emphasis in the quotations is added, unless otherwise stated). [54]
Presumably, only the modern progressive women of the bourgeois world could
bring to fruition this task of drawing up the Greek dances from the depths of time
and of the ‘soul of the race’. Moreover, according to Parren, this task presupposed a
double purification: on the one hand, purification from the ‘corruptions’ the dances
have suffered as survivals in the rural world (the centuries of ‘woman’s slavery’,
referring perhaps also to the centuries of national bondage, heightens here the
concept of corruption); and on the other hand purification from the sophisticated
‘cosmopolitan’ conception of folklore, a conception perhaps even more ‘twisted’,
because it was external: it had no memory nor homeland to refer to. Through this
argumentation is expressed a relatively new social demand in Greece: that of the dual
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transformation of the dances and songs of the countryside into both a national and an
artistic product; a product that is merged with the bourgeois aesthetic models and
habitus as well as with nationalism, the latter being a basic element via which the
social identity of the middle classes was expressed more widely in the modern
Western world. [55]
In the framework of multiple discourses articulated with reference to the Lyceum’s
Anthesteria, the demand for this dual transformation of the folk dances of the
countryside is sometimes expressed more explicitly and coherently. [56] In any case, the
artistic ‘modification’ of the folk dances as well as the symbolic performance of their
ancient Greek origin through the archaic-style attire was unanimously accepted. As the
playwright and critic Gregorios Xenopoulos would characteristically say, only by means
of such a ‘metamorphosis’, ‘only in such an artistic elaboration could the national [folk]
dance be presented in Athens, in order for its revival to be possible’. [57] But this
‘metamorphosis’ of the peasant dances, their nationalization and at the same time their
‘aestheticization’, is perceived in close relation to the effect exercised by and upon the
female bodies, namely the bodies of the girls of Athenian high society. Allusions to the
‘reformatory’ role effected by these ‘well-formed’ and ‘perfectly exercised’ bodies, that is,
disciplined and civilized bodies, are rife in the descriptions of the Anthesteria; sometimes,
however, this role is articulated with great clarity: ‘We knew them’, S. Melas was to say
of the folk songs and dances of the countryside, but ‘as wild flowers, as primary rhythms
of a people, imperfect as everything completely spontaneous, lovely as an animal’s
gambol. But all these needed to be cultivated by the ladies of the Lyceum, to be
studied and to be taught by people with superior sentiment, needed to be found in
the civilized bodies of the Athenian maidens, disciplined to the concept of rhythm,
full of feeling and soul, [. . .] for us to be able to understand in all its extent this classical
creation which is called Greek dance’. [58] The social construction of the body of the
Lyceum girls is expressed here with remarkable clarity. Through the conceptualization
of the people, this time not as an historical people but as a ‘natural’, primitive,
primordial people, the civilizing role of the upper-class female bodies gains its full
meaning, while the class-defined female body is no more identified with ‘nature’, which
here refers to the lower strata, but with ‘culture’. Or, perhaps, it can be argued that
within the above excerpt the motif of women as mediators between ‘nature’ and
‘culture’ is imprinted, revealing a deeper, anthropological, facet in the collective
perception of the work of women as privileged ‘transformers’ of the folk dances and
songs into national and aesthetic products.
However, as a rule in the descriptions in the Press it is the female bodies that are
‘metamorphosed’ through performing the national dances. Sometimes they regain the
‘suppleness and the harmony of the classical’, sometimes they are assimilated to the
‘peasant’ bodies and are swathed in metaphors of health, vigour and ‘leventia’ (strapping
comeliness) or ‘palikaria’ (bravado), that is of ‘manliness’ which is frequently attributed
symbolically to popular social strata and culture. [59] In each case these bodies are
transformed into ‘genuine’ national bodies. But only through opposition to the
‘mimesis’ of Western fashions and European bourgeois sociability and entertainment,
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do the national female bodies acquire their full meaning. Through the stereotypical
stigmatization of the ‘graceless’ and ‘seductive’, that is ‘depraved’, European dances of
the ballrooms, [60] the Lyceum bodies appropriate the vigour of the Greek ‘race’ and
with it the traditional Greek female virtue and modesty.
Through the idealized representations of the dancing girls, Greek dance, now in the
singular, becomes an archetypal form: ‘it ends up a natural phenomenon’, Xenopoulos
argued, it touches the ‘deeper meaning and essence of all dance’. [61] In the framework
of such a discourse, the characteristic traits of the folk dances that are attributed to their
ancient Greek origin – the circular movements, the chain form, the ‘alluring’ monotony
or their ‘gentle’ rhythm – are transformed into archetypal traits of every kinetic
expression; and those traits, the argument continues, have been developed by the most
perfect of the historical peoples, the Greek people. If the preservation of these elements,
albeit ‘corrupted’, into the Modern Age by the peasantry of the countryside declared the
diachronic existence of a ‘national soul’, those who ‘revealed’ the traits of this ‘soul’ in
all their majesty, through the high aesthetic result they offered, were the young ladies of
the Lyceum. With the mediation of aestheticism, embedded in the representations of the
bodies of the ‘maidens’ of Athenian high society, the discourse on dances moved
characteristically from the field of the historicist argumentation to that of the intrinsic
talents of the ‘race’, which usually stem from Antiquity. ‘I do not know exactly whether
today’s dances are the ancient dances’, wrote one scholarly spectator of the Anthesteria,
‘but this historical unity leaves me indifferent, since a dance of today is enough to give
me the thrill of the ancient statues and to remind me of the friezes of the ancient
temples’. [62] In any case, as the local dances were moving from the field of folklore
study to that of national mass culture and spectacle, the axiom of their ancient Greek
origin did not need any scholarly proof. As Parren was to write about the Anthesteria of
1911,
our dancers, girls of our best families, in their lovely archaic dress, danced the
Greek dances and confirmed with the grace of the movements and the nobility of the
poses that truly the preserved dances are the circular ones of the ancient Greeks
[. . .]. [63]
In conclusion, apart from being an attempt at inventing the Greek ‘tradition’ of

May Day, the Lyceum’s Anthesteria of 1911 were the first attempt to create in public a
sophisticated ritual in order to perform a ripe demand for the nationalization of the
peasant dances as well as for their aesthetic ‘upgrading’ to the domain of ‘high
culture’, in accordance with the viewpoint and values of the middle- and upper-social
strata. However, the ladies and the girls of the Lyceum who tried to put this demand
into practice were also expressing a particular cultural habitus of a segment of these
social strata. According to this habitus, both processes, the nationalization and the
artistic elaboration of the folk dances, at least as expressed in the Anthesteria, passed
through the symbolic language and the aesthetic of classicism, not only at the level of
performance but also at the level of bodily culture, that is, the tendency towards
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assimilation of the dance practices to some ‘ancient Greek’ model. As we shall see, in
the course of the Lyceum’s public events and especially after the establishment of its
mass festivals in the Panathenaic Stadium, the expression of this habitus was to gain
independence from the performance of the ‘Neohellenic’ dances (as they were now
called), and this role will be played mainly by the invention of specific ‘ancient
dances’. In 1911, however, these two are not yet distinguished, while, as we have seen,
the ancient Greek sources – iconographic and textual – are explicitly invoked by the
Lyceum’s members in the quest for a model rendering of ‘national dances’. In
practice, however, the manner of performing the Greek folk dances was influenced far
more by the Western model, through the culture and taste of the mid- and upper-
social strata as well as through the European training and views of dance teachers, the
basic ‘mediators’ in this process of transforming the dances. [64]
The Lyceum, despite the clearly expressed intention to establish the Anthesteria
festival as an ‘official’ and ‘authentic’ Greek May Day event, did not repeat the
specific endeavour the following years, for reasons that are not clarified by the
existing historical data. However, elements of inventing and performing the
traditions of the nation can be detected in festivals of similar form to the 1911
Anthesteria and, primarily, of similar ideological and symbolic content. It goes
without saying that among these the ‘great national festivals’ in the Panathenaic
Stadium, as they were called, held pride of place. The historical material related to
these festivals reveals a dimension, which other information in the Lyceum’s archives
about the female bodily culture practiced by its members (‘European’ ballroom
dances, ‘national’ dances and since 1924 rhythmic gymnastics for the young ladies)
keeps rather in the shadow; it reveals, for the period under consideration, the specific
gravity attached in this culture to the invention of ‘ancient’ dances, which was
inextricably linked with the ceremonials and the symbolic ‘language’ of the Lyceum’s
public festive appearances, especially those held in the Panathenaic Stadium. Aiming
at pointing out this dimension, our analysis will concentrate exclusively on these
festivals, including the inaugural attempt of the Lyceum to ‘conquer’ the Stadium in
1914, an endeavour which was not to be repeated until the inter-war years.
III. Conquering the Panathenaic Stadium: Monumental Performance of the

National Past and the Quest for ‘Greekness’ in Female Bodily Culture
The Lyceum’s debut in the Stadium in 1914 had been planned initially, at the request
of Queen Sophia, as an event in honour of her brother, kaiser Wilhelm II of
Germany, who was expected to visit Athens during his stay in his estate in Corfu. The
visit never took place, but the original plan was changed and as a result two Lyceum
festivals occurred: the first was staged in Corfu, in the presence of the kaiser, on 19
April 1914, and the other was held in the Stadium, on 27 April of the same year. On
both occasions, dances were performed in ‘traditional’ costumes and in ancient-style
garments, while both events acquired a particular national importance: they were
associated with the honours accorded to a European leader who had supported the
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Greek positions in the Treaty of Bucharest, in the face of the Bulgarian demands. [65]
However, according to C. Parren these dance representations of ‘Greek life’ were
more than a mere act of national gratitude; they had a direct political role in fighting
by peaceful means for the ‘national rights’: they inspired in the powerful men of
Europe, such as Wilhelm II, the superiority and the glorious future of an ancient
‘race’ which, over the course of the centuries and the passage of so many ‘of the
earth’s barbarians’, had safeguarded its traditions and ‘all the aristocratic nobility of
an artistic and beauteous past’. Thus, by enhancing the ‘cohesion of the great past
with the glorious present’, these festivals added strong credentials to national
demands. [66]
In this context, on the morrow of the victory in the Balkan Wars the Lyceum, with
royal encouragement and invoking a strengthened national role, organized its first
festival in the Panathenaic Stadium. By the standards of the Lyceum’s public
appearances to date, this was a big and bold undertaking, which largely surpassed the
Lyceum’s own forces and which occurred thanks to an extensive network of
collaborations. Over 40 kinds of Greek costumes were presented and, in addition to
the musicians, some five hundred persons of both sexes participated, either in the
dance group or the choir or the parades. [67] The audience was of analogous size. In
the Press reports of the day, the spectators crowd is compared with that of the
Olympic Games of 1896 or the Intermediate Olympic Games of 1906. [68] ‘We had
to present all the Greek costumes, that is to compile a living ethnological exhibition
of Old and New Greece together’, wrote C. Parren. [69] And so a brilliant spectacle of
music and dance was organized: the ‘archaic’ parade of female ‘flute-players’
(aulitrides), ‘basket-bearers’ (kanephoroi) and ‘dancing girls’, in the vanguard; then
the performance of syrtos in ancient dress that was followed by parades of groups of
‘villagers’ in local costumes; interposed between the processions were demonstrations
of folk dances, to the accompaniment of choral and instrumental music: syrtos and
trata ‘of the most ancient [dances]’, klephtikos [the dance of the bandits], ‘Cretan
pyrrichios’ and pentozalis, the dances of the islands sousta and balos – ‘the lygistos of
the ancients’ – and many others, among them those, such as the makedonikos
(Macedonian) and the epirotikos (Epirot), which represented the New Lands annexed
by Greece as a result of the Balkan Wars. [70] The co-ordination of all these
participants and the artistic management of the Stadium space (complex problems
which attracted some criticism in the press) provide a vivid demonstration of the
great leap forward the Lyceum had taken in the field of public spectacles.
In this ‘living ethnological’ exhibition of 1914, Medieval Greece was not yet
represented. National time was shared once again between Antiquity and Modern
Greece: in the printed programme of the festival (see: IALE, Efimera) we read that
‘the Greek dances are surviving remnants of our wonderful ancient dances’, while
there are references to ancient sources, for the enlightenment of the public. The
symbolic weight of Antiquity in the Lyceum’s choices is characteristically reflected in
C. Parren’s attempt to legitimize the exclusive involvement of the Lyceum’s members
with dance. In an article in the Ladies’ Journal, the Lyceum’s president refers to the
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authority of the ancient Greek model of physical exercise and its distinctive unity: for
the ancient Greeks dance was not an autonomous and isolated practice but was linked
organically not only with religion but also with gymnastics and athletics; in fact, dance
was the ‘climax of the aim of gymnastics’, since the ancient Greek model sets as its
ultimate aim ‘harmony’, ‘eurhythmy’ and health, which are characteristic only of
dance. ‘That is why’, Parren continues, ‘all the gymnastic contests concluded with
dances in which, exceptionally, maidens also took part, whereas they were then banned
from appearing in the Stadium’: so, Parren’s argumentation slips from aestheticism
into the indirect acceptance of the absolute separation of physical exercise by gender.
[71] It is therefore clear that Parren’s criticism to prohibitions – ancient or
contemporary – imposed on women’s athletic-sporting activity was a thing of the past.
Encouraged by the overall positive response to the Lyceum’s first mass festival in
the Panathenaic Stadium, [72] the Board of the association decided to repeat the
celebration the following year in honour of the king Constantine and, furthermore,
expressed the intention to establish it as a permanent annual celebration. 21 May, the
king’s name-day, was fixed as the date of this celebration. [73] The intention for
institutionalization of the Lyceum’s festival in the Stadium did not materialize in
subsequent years. If in 1915, a sudden illness of Constantine led to the postponement
of the 21 May festival, after that the country’s embroilment in war as well as the exile
of the Lyceum’s president to Hydra by the Venizelos regime affected the Lyceum’s
activities overall and obviously impeded continuation of this celebration. [74] The
Lyceum returned dynamically to the institutionalization of the festival in the Stadium
one decade later, in 1925, when normality had been restored in domestic and foreign
affairs, and new needs had arisen.
In the second half of the 1920s, the basic ceremonial structure of this en-masse
festive institution was elaborated and crystallized, combining two practices. The first
practice is that which characterized the festival in the Stadium in 1914, namely the
spectacular and populous parade of groups in national costumes, and the
performance of Greek dances in which the ancient origin of the contemporary folk
dances is symbolically underlined. The second practice was equally formed during the
first decade of the Lyceum, in the context of the association’s festivals in theatres: in
addition to the established performances of ‘national dances’ in folk and ancient-style
costumes, these indoor events included tableaux vivants or static scenes representing
the ‘finest pages in our national life’, that is, in national history. Within the
framework of this practice, since 1914 the Byzantine era had been incorporated as
one of these ‘finest pages’: in the Lyceum’s festival organized in that year in the Royal
Theatre, a tableau vivant called ‘Byzantine Crown’, with the emperor as its central
figure, was part of representations celebrating the victory in the Balkan Wars and the
acquisition of new territories and recalling the Megali Idea dream of ‘taking back
Constantinople’. [75] But Byzantium was here to stay in these indoor festivals of the
Lyceum, together with ‘plastic images’ inspired by antiquity and representations of
‘neo-Hellenic life’ inspired by modern Greek art and literature. Henceforth, the
basically academic concept of a tripartite scheme of the ‘historical continuity of
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Hellenism’ passed into the symbolic universe of the Lyceum’s festivals in theatres, an
important moment in the process of forming mass national culture. From 1914
onwards, the tableau vivant representing images from Byzantine history was
established in Lyceum’s festivals of this type. Moreover, these representations,
exclusively inspired by the life of the Byzantine Court, were also performing the
‘tradition’ of royalty as a national institution, that is, an institution which could claim
origins in the national past. Nevertheless, internal hierarchizations within the overall
ceremonial structure of these Lyceum festivals tended to maintain the symbolical
primacy of antiquity. [76]
This symbolical primacy was especially the hallmark of the history of the Lyceum’s
great festivals in the Panathenaic Stadium. The ‘middle period’ of ‘Hellenism’ and
consequently the dimension of ‘continuity’ were absent from the 1914 festival and
from the plans for the 1915 festival which, as mentioned earlier, was in the end
cancelled, and from the first festival in the same venue, after the First World War. In
fact, the festival in the Stadium, on 24 May 1925, was overtly enriched with
inventions of ancient-Greek inspiration. To the strains of a march played by the army
band, a grand ancient procession with various figures – ‘Hestiadai’ holding torches,
children crowned with wreaths of ivy and myrtle, ‘Peplophoroi’, ‘orchestridai’
(dancing girls), ‘slave-girls’ and other females holding auloi (flutes), lyres and sistra –
advanced towards the altar in the middle of the track, where the votive offerings were
deposited and ‘rhythmical dances’ in ancient mode were performed: the dance ‘of the
altar’, ‘of the Caryatids’, ‘of the Peplophoroi’, and the ‘Erotikos’ (‘ancestor’ of the
balos). Impressive as lead dancer in these dances was the first teacher of rhythmical
gymnastics to girls of the Lyceum, Marie Raymond, who ‘flies, coils like a snake’. In
the second part of the festival, the baton passed to groups of ‘villagers’ in an array of
local costumes who, having first paraded to the accompaniment of military music of
the guards, performed ‘Neohellenic dances’. The whole event concluded, again to the
strains of the opening march, as the ‘youth of Modern Greece proceeded with the air
of conscripts towards the changing rooms’. [77] From the relevant reports in the
press (see: IALE, Arheio Typou), it emerges that in this ‘phantasmagoria’, the
abundance of ancient symbols, the monumental character, the disciplined military
step of the parades, as well as the good order and standardization of the ancient
procession, or the affectation of the rhythmical (‘ancient’) dances all seemed to jar
with the relative spontaneity in the performance of the folk dances, which apparently
aroused the audience’s enthusiasm: ‘After the Classical dances were over, a lively
unpretentious Greek panigyri broke out. The circles of dancers open and proceed,
dancing, first the calm syrtos and then the klephtikos, while the audience expresses its
enthusiasm, forgets the stiff ‘‘poplin’’ collar, applauds, whistles, taps the rhythm with
the feet, claps hands in time, is nostalgic for the village, glendi, Golfo, retsina . . . Viva
Modern Greek reality!’. [78]
Most of the above elements of form and content, which composed the monumental
and national-patriotic character of these festivals in the Panathenaic Stadium, were kept
throughout the interwar years. What changed was the performance of the national past:
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the scheme of ‘continuity’, or rather an innovative version of this scheme was adopted,
which, however, in relation to the prevailing ‘tripartite’ concept, permitted the Lyceum
to preserve the symbolically paramount role accorded to Antiquity. In its Stadium
festival of 1926, which coincided with the fifteenth year of the Lyceum’s existence, not
only was the representation of the Byzantine Age incorporated; the performance of the
national ‘tradition’ was furthermore enriched with the simultaneous introduction of the
Minoan Age, as the ‘most distant past’ of the historically ‘unique’ Greek people. Thus,
the Lyceum inaugurated in a festive context the scheme of ‘the four ages of Greek
civilization’, with parades, processions and some representations of rituals from the
‘Minoan/Creto-Mycenaean’, the ‘Archaic/Classical’, the ‘Byzantine’ and the ‘Neohelle-
nic’ age. The latter was constantly represented by the performance of folk dances, while
concurrently the practice of inventing ‘ancient’ rhythmical dances was augmented. As a
rule, the Lyceum was to remain loyal to this scheme throughout the interwar period and
even after the Second World War. This expansion of the ‘national’ past into the depths
of history decisively enriched performances with new symbols and ‘traditions’,
capturing the growing interest in excavations that revealed remains of the prehistoric
period in Greece and following the then current trend of Archaeology, expressed since
the late nineteenth century, to ‘Hellenize’ this period. [79] Nevertheless, although the
discourse articulated by the Lyceum is consistent with the appeal the impressive
archaeological finds had for the general public, it does not seem to have sought any
rational scholarly legitimization; rather it reproduced familiar stereotypes of the national
ideology: ‘My ladies’, C. Parren was writing in 1926 (Logodosia 1925–26: 5),
we thought that we should take recourse to the remote past, since the costumes
and the representations of that period present the unique phenomenon of the
civilization of a people, already advanced as soon as it appeared and which in its
evolution, in the course of the centuries and despite so many conquerors,
barbarians and others, has lost nothing either of the traits of the nobility of the race,
or of the beauty and the harmony of line and colour. The Minoan Civilization was
our starting point [. . .].
In the framework of the intense aestheticism and biologism which runs through
this argumentation, the special contribution of the female sex to the long ‘continuity’
of Greek civilization, and consequently, the exclusively female competence for
organizing such a festival is projected even more forcefully.
The appeal of this female initiative of enhancing these festivals as a major public
event, and the social dynamic of this mass national spectacle in Greek society of the
interwar years, were promoted in the press of the day. On the morrow of the Asia
Minor Catastrophe, the massive influx of refugees and the final entombment of the
irredentist Megali Idea (Great Idea), the ‘mass public mystagogy’ of the Lyceum’s
monumental festivals in the Panathenaic Stadium was presented as a work of female
‘sensitivity’. The Lyceum festivals staged a new national narrative, through the quest
for a diachronic ‘Greekness’ in various manifestations of Hellenic civilization from
prehistory until contemporary folk customs. This new version of ‘Greekness’ was also
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reflected in the female bodily culture, filling with ‘racial pride’ the throngs attending
the Panathenaic stadium events. Mainly, however, these festivals offered also a
modern means of patriotic propaganda, inculcating a spirit of national ‘participation’
and unanimity of purpose in a society in which the expected social cohesion was
being increasingly negated due to explosive political conflicts and diverse social
upheavals and oppositions; a society in which the ‘social question’ could no longer be
exorcized as a ‘Western peculiarity’. [80] Indeed, this feeling of unanimity and of
being incorporated into the imaginary community of the nation is intense in the
press descriptions of the spectacle provided by the Lyceum’s festivals, especially of
that of 1926. [81]
As privileged contributors to national homogenization and social cohesion, the
women of the middle- and upper-social strata were able, through a public
intervention in the field of mass national culture and propaganda, to significantly
upgrade their moralizing role in public space. With these monumental festivals the
Lyceum, alongside its more conventional activities in the field of social reform, was
able to re-instate the orthodoxy of ‘Hellenic-worthy’ female action to the assertive
feminist activity of middle-class women which was dynamically growing as well in
Greece during the interwar years. In other words, the Lyceum was thus able to
differentiate itself from the newly formed women’s organizations which shaped the
different trends of Greek feminism, in keeping with corresponding international
currents. [82] By the beginning of 1920s, the distancing of the Lyceum from feminist
claims and from the struggle for women’s suffrage had been publicly enhanced. In
1926, in anticipation of the Lyceum’s festival in the Stadium, the Press
characteristically praised the ‘high service’ these festivals rendered to national
sentiment and prestige, as ‘climax’ of the activity of an association of women who
shunned both the ‘temptation of being socialites’ and the ‘extremity of feminism’
in favour of ‘conscious patriotism’. [83] Besides, the ‘high service’ the Lyceum
rendered with these festivals was acknowledged also by the State, specifically by
the Pangalos dictatorship: the 1926 festival was filmed at the behest of the General
Security Services in order to be screened in schools and army camps (IALE, PDS,
Session of 2 June 1926).
According to the Lyceum’s historical archive, the association conducted over a
dozen public events in the Panathenaic Stadium during the interwar years. Between
1925 and 1938, when the cycle of these Lyceum festivals ended, it is certain that six
such events were organized on the exclusive initiative and responsibility of the
Lyceum: five consecutive annual festivals between 1925 and 1929, and the festival of
1933. The remaining festivals were held in response to invitations from third parties
to the Lyceum to (co)-organize or simply to take part in celebrations, usually
anniversary events. The main and best-known of these is the festival of 6 April 1930,
which the Lyceum organized as part of the events to commemorate the Centennial of
Greek Independence, [84] and the two festivals that resulted from the Lyceum’s
collaboration with the Hellenic Olympic Committee: one in 1934, to celebrate the
fortieth anniversary of the Revival of the Olympic Games (i.e. from the Paris
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Conference of 1894, where the relevant decision was taken) [85] and the other on 21
July 1936, on the occasion of the arrival of the Olympic flame from Olympia to the
Panathenaic Stadium, during the torch race inaugurated in anticipation of
the Olympic Games in Berlin. [86] At the end of the period under consideration,
the Lyceum also took part in anniversary celebrations of the ‘4 August Regime’
(inaugural date of the Metaxas dictatorship). [87] Almost all the events in the
Stadium that the Lyceum organized jointly with third parties, and which incurred for
it certain economic costs, in practice were held in place of its annual spring festival in
that venue. The association could hardly afford financially the participation in more
than a single festival in the Stadium annually, whereas the continuous expansion of
its activities –with displays of costumes, dances and sometimes tableaux vivants in a
host of celebratory events in Greece and abroad – absorbed more and more the time
and energy of its active members. Overall, in the span of 14 years from 1925 to 1938
the Lyceum did not appear in the Panathenaic Stadium only in 1931, 1932 and 1935.
Throughout the interwar period, the ‘great national festivals of the Lyceum in the
Panathenaic Stadium’, as they were dubbed by the association itself, were an almost
annual event of mass popular entertainment and patriotic edification in the life of
Athens with certain basic and constantly repeated elements crystallized in its
ceremonial and symbolic structure. In accordance with the function of invented
traditions, these elements contain values and behavioural models, and a relationship
with history. Among these elements, the principal one and hallmark of these festivals
of the Lyceum is the general scheme of the (usually four) ‘finest ages’ of ‘Hellenism’.
But within this scheme, various individual repeated symbolic elements, practices and
ceremonies, presupposed uses of the past and disseminated models and values: the
parades of the ‘ages’ to the strains of marches; the creation of a universe of female
figures of the past, historical and mythological, which was at once enriched and
standardized; the phantasmagoric spectacle of the imperial court, which steadily
intermediates the representation of Byzantium; the proclamation in numerous ways
of the contemporary dances’ descent from the ancient ones; and the invention of
‘ancient dances’ which are performed exclusively by women and especially by the
young ladies of the Lyceum. The combination of all these elements endowed these
festivals and their principal agent, the Lyceum of Greek Women, with a distinctive
identity and rendered them recognizable within the sphere of mass events of this kind,
which began to develop during this period. It is characteristic that starting in the 1927
festival onwards the programme was enriched with new elements which intensified the
distinct identity of these mass festivals of the Lyceum, and at the same time upgraded
their spectacular, ceremonial, monumental and moral-didactic character. The
introduction of dramatizations of allegorical content and/or telling a ‘story’ – with
a rudimentary plot – relieved the standardization and monotony of the scheme
parade – procession – dances and added thematic variety to the performance of the
national narrative. These dramatizations were enriched with the performance of
‘national’ dances (‘ancient’ and Neohellenic), but in certain festivals they contained
also one further interesting new element: the isolated performance of an athletic
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activity, such as Nausikaa and her companions ‘throwing the golden ball’ in the
dramatization inspired by the Odyssey in the 1927 festival, or the Nymphs of Artemis
engaged in archery, in the 1928 festival. It should be noted, however, that these
athletic displays were not enacted by young ladies of the Lyceum but by female
students of the Physical Education College and of the Marasleion Teachers’ College,
respectively. [88] Overall, these new elements of the Lyceum’s festivals in the Stadium
reinforced both the possibility of utilizing the available national myths and symbols,
and the dimension of artistic experimentation, which in any case surfaced in the
Lyceum’s festivals.
In this context, the inventiveness concerning the ‘ancient’ dances has been equally
reinforced. The description contained in the printed program (IALE, Efimera) of the
1928 festival provides a typical example. In the first half, which corresponds to
ancient Hellenism, the parade of ancient figures and the presentation of ancient
dances are articulated in an allegorical ritual performance entitled ‘representation of
the struggle between civilization and barbarity with the death and apotheosis of
Orpheus’: Amazons armed with javelins and shields fight with Artemis and her
‘archer nymphs’, but the battle abates when Orpheus appears with the ‘woodland
nymphs’, the ‘first herald of peace and love between men’. However, while the
‘basket-bearing maidens’ watch Orpheus’ intervention and the peaceful ‘dance of the
Nymphs’, wild Maenads and Dryads are lying in wait. Soon afterwards, they suddenly
invade and, after abandoning themselves to a ‘frenzied dance with cups, cymbals,
drums and knives’, slay Orpheus. The dramatization ends with the intervention of
Apollo as ‘deus ex machina’, the resurrection of Orpheus, his apotheosis and the
celebratory ‘dance of the Muses’.
A notable development is ascertained in the 1928 festival. In all the previous
festivals of the Lyceum in the Stadium, the spectacle was organized on the basis of a
distinction between the parades of various ages of ‘Hellenism’, on the one hand, and
the performance of the host of Neohellenic dances, on the other. In the interludes
between the two central parts, rhythmical dances in the ancient mode or folk dances
in ancient-style dress were performed. In 1928, the structure changed so that each
part of the festival (from which, exceptionally, the Minoan Age was omitted)
corresponded to one of the ‘ages of Hellenism’, with a particular plot-dramatization
for each age. In other words, in the performance of the scheme of ‘historical
continuity’ the national time is allotted more equally, since each age constitutes an
autonomous unit in the context of the whole spectacle. This becomes clearer in the
quadripartite arrangement of the 1929 festival (see printed program in IALE,
Efimera): each age of ‘Hellenism’ is represented by one theme-dramatization in which
historicity is more clearly invoked: ‘religious procession and bloodless offering’ for the
Minoan Age (Part I), ‘Lesser Panathenaia’ for the Classical Age (Part II), ‘choosing a
royal bride’ for Byzantium (Part III) and ‘May Day festival’ for the Modern Greek
Age (Part IV). In the printed programme of the festival, the invocation of the scholarly
documentation, see authoritativeness, of the representations is stronger in relation to
every other programme of a Lyceum festival (in the Stadium or in an indoor venue):
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the arrangement of the processions (in the first three ‘ages’), the multitude of figures
participating in these, and their roles, are recorded in detail, while in the case of the
Minoan ceremonial there are references to specific wall-paintings and other kinds of
finds from Knossos, Phaistos, Tiryns and Kadmeia (Thebes), on the basis of which the
‘faithful’ representation of the ceremonial was constructed. Additional proof of the
authoritativeness are the names of the contributors to the event, which are written in
the printed programmes of the Lyceum’s festivals, in particular the names of the
external advisors and collaborators, distinguished scholars and artists: in the 1929
festival these included the Byzantinists G. Soteriou and Ph. Koukoules, while on the
artistic side, the ‘sacred dance’ of the prehistoric (Minoan) period was taught by the
Kanellos couple, well-known disciples of Isadora Duncan, who had had been invited
from the United States to present the ancient Greek dramatic dance of Apollo with
Python at the Delphic Festival in 1927 (see Glytzouris, present volume). [89]
To be sure, the invocation of scholarly authoritativeness did not detract from the
function of the festivals as ‘invented traditions’ of the nation. On the contrary, it offered
the ladies of the Lyceum the necessary legitimization, so that upon an a priori
documented historical basis, the symbolic-ceremonial structure of the ritual
performances and the messages diffused through these monumental festivals in the
Stadium could be developed more freely by the creative imagination of the organizers.
Conclusion
The public festivals of the Lyceum of Greek Women in the interwar period, and
especially its ‘national festivals’ held in the Panathenaic Stadium, seen from the
viewpoint of ‘invented tradition’ constructed and consolidated symbols and
traditions, serving identities and values at the level of the nation, as well as needs
of social distinction: through the symbolic narrative of the national past, they
elaborated the ‘tradition’ of the female dimension of ‘Hellenism’, via which a part of
women of the upper-middle classes sought to express their distinct social identity.
In the context of these festivals, archaism, aestheticism and the exemplary use of
Greek Antiquity were preserved steadfastly as principal elements of the performance
of ‘Hellenism’. The invention of ‘ancient dances’ was key in this Lyceum’s endeavour,
as they were an important symbolic element of the social construction of the
association’s distinctive identity in the public domain; regarding this identity, the
‘ancient dances’ were possibly more critical than folk ones, even in their ‘more
properly Hellenized’ form, which were for mass use and consumption. This devotion
to classicism and aestheticism is a basic element which, especially through the
personality of C. Parren, connects the Lyceum with the feminist circle of the Ladies’
Journal of the 1890s and 1900s.
Overall, the activities of the Lyceum examined above constituted the principal
element that differentiated its members, vis-à-vis diverse alternative forms of public
activity, which were available to women of the middle classes in Greece in the
interwar years; old forms – such as charitable works or social reform, which
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continued to be pursued by sections of the Lyceum – but, mainly, new forms such as
professional activity and, of course, feminist militancy. In these activities, we could
add women’s involvement with organized competitive sport. From the late 1920s
onwards, women’s sport in Greece was going through its first systematic thrust and
constitution. However, this development does not seem to have shaken the Lyceum’s
steadfast devotion to rhythmical and dance bodily practices, and to their specific
symbolic uses in the context of mass public ceremonies. The wider habitus through
which the particular social identity of the Lyceum’s ladies was expressed, just like in
the case of the women’s circle of the Ladies’ Journal some decades earlier, did not
include practices that referred to the typical ‘bourgeois’ recreational and
individualistic values of sport. Throughout the period examined in this article, the
tension between these values and female ‘nature’ was intrinsic to the beliefs and
activities of these Greek women’s collectives of mid- and upper-social strata.
Acknowledgements
I would like to express my sincere thanks to Dr. Zinon Papakonstantinou for his
advice on the idiom and style of the present paper and for his insightful remarks. But
first and foremost I would like to thank him for his invitation to be his co-editor in
this special issue. I really enjoyed collaboration with Zinon as well as with the other
authors of the volume. I thank them all.
Notes
[1] For the feminism of ‘equality through difference’ of the Ladies’ Journal (it was published
weekly from 1887 to 1907 and bi-weekly until 1917) and its editor C. Parren, see especially
Varikas, I exegersi ton kyrion. For a historical approach to Parren’s version of the New Woman
as presented in her novels about emancipation, see Psarra, ‘To mythistorima tis heirafetisis’.
For Parren’s biography see Psarra and Fournaraki, ‘Callirhoe Parren’.
[2] Although the Lyceum of Greek Women, established in 1911, was incorporated into the
international framework of the Lyceum Clubs, it actually followed the standards of its
predecessor, the Union of Greek Women (1897), which had been, until 1911, the
‘archetypical’ organization of women of middle- and upper-social strata in Greece. For the
general profile and the social composition of the Lyceum of Greek Women, see Vasileiadou,
‘Syllogikes draseis, drastiries zoes’. For the history of the association, see Ekato Chronia Lykeio
ton Ellinidon 1911–2011 and Bobou – Protopapa, To Lykeio ton Ellinidon.
[3] Hobsbawm and Ranger (eds.), The Invention of Tradition.
[4] On the modernistic pedagogical discourse concerning school physical education of both sexes,
see in particular: Fournaraki, ‘Genre et éducation physique en Grèce du XIXe siècle’, 114–24.
For an overview of the institutional developments in the field of physical education in Greece
of the nineteenth century and the first decades of the twentieth century, see Koulouri, Sport et
société bourgeoise, 47–75.
[5] On this debate, see: Fournaraki, ‘Apo ti gymnastiki sto horo’.
[6] Fournaraki, op. cit.
[7] For an analysis of this ideological construct and especially for the ‘regenerative’ mission of
women elaborated by Parren on the aftermath of the 1897 defeat, see: Avdela and Psarra,
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‘Engendering ‘‘Greekness.’’’ For the ‘female’ version of citizenship and ‘politics’ advocated by
C. Parren and the Ladies’ Journal, see especially the analysis of Efi Avdela: ‘Between Duties and
Rights’.
[8] For the School of Women Physical Educators of the Union of Greek Women (which filled the
gap left by the state policy in the domain of training female gymnasts, from 1897 until 1918)
and for the Ladies’ Journal’s discourse about this School, see in particular Fournaraki, ‘Apo ti
gymnastiki sto horo’.
[9] See especially: Parren, ‘Ai Ellinides kata tous Olympiakous Agones’, 1.
[10] Historical research about this first ‘wave’ of feminine – and in certain aspects feminist –
protest as expressed by the Ladies’ Journal has pointed out the crucial role played by history in
the reconstruction of women’s collective memory and in the legitimization of present
demands and future liberating ‘utopias’: Varikas, ‘Gender and National Ideology in fin de
siècle Greece’; Psarra, ‘Few Women Have a History’.
[11] Parren, ‘Entyposeis ek ton Olympiakon Agonon. Anoiktai epistolai I’, 4–5.
[12] Parren, ‘Ai athletriai eis tous Olympiakous Agonas’, 1–2 and ‘Entyposeis ek ton Olympiakon
Agonon. Anoiktai epistolai I’: 6–7; see also Parren’s article on the occasion of the Intermediate
Olympics: ‘Ai gynaikes eis tous agonas’.
[13] For the Heraia see Scanlon, Eros and Greek Athletics, 98–120.
[14] Parren, ‘Ai athletriai eis tous Olympiakous Agonas’, 1–2.
[15] Ibid. See also, Parren, ‘Entyposeis ek ton Olympiakon Agonon. Anoiktai epistolai I’, 6–7.
[16] It is noteworthy that the philologist and antiquarian Sevasti Kallisperi, first Greek woman who
graduated from the Sorbonne (1891), gives exactly the same image of the maiden runners of
Heraia – although in a less literary style and expressions – in her 1896 scholarly work
concerning the ancient site of Olympia and the ancient Olympic Games. See Kallisperi, I
Olympia kai oi Olympiakoi Agones, 34.
[17] Parren, ‘Ai athletriai eis tous Olympiakous Agonas’, 1 and ‘Entyposeis ek ton Olympiakon
Agonon. Anoiktai epistolai I’, 7.
[18] Parren, ‘Entyposeis ek ton Olympiakon Agonon. Anoiktai epistolai I’, 6.
[19] Ibid.
[20] Ibid., 5–6.
[21] Ibid., 6.
[22] Ibid.
[23] Information about Revithi’s attempt to take part in the Olympic Games of 1896 and also
about her life are to be found scattered among press articles of the period February–April
1896. See indicatively: Palingenesia (27 Feb. 1896), where we found an interesting description
of Revithi’s appearance in front of the Olympic Committee: Anonymous, ‘Mia gini dromefs’;
Acropolis (27 Feb. 1896) and (28 Feb. 1896); Acropolis (30 March 1896), where a kind of
interview with Revithi conducted by a correspondent of the newspaper at Marathon, is
published: Anonymous (signs as Ds.), ‘I paramoni tou marathoniou’. In fact, little else is
known about Revithi’s undertaking (see especially: Tarasouleas, ‘Stamata Revithi’ and Skiadas,
100 Chronia, 123–4.) and it seems that this is the reason why this undertaking nurtured a
convenient myth about the more ancient-sounding ‘‘Melpomene’’, a supposed pioneer
woman of her time, who attempted to participate in the Marathon race in order to protest
against women’s exclusion from the Athens Olympic Games of 1896. For this myth, see
Tarasouleas, op. cit.; cf, Fournaraki, ‘The Olympism of the Ladies’, 354–55.
[24] Parren, ‘Ai athletriai eis tous Olympiakous Agonas’, 2.
[25] See: Mosse, The Image of Man, 56–76.
[26] Parren, ‘Entyposeis ek ton Olympiakon Agonon. Anoiktai epistolai I’, 4.
[27] For these displacements, outlined in the following paragraphs, see: Fournaraki, ‘The
Olympism of the Ladies’, 365–72.
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[28] Parren, ‘Entyposeis ek ton Olympiakon Agonon. Epistoli IV’, 2.

[29] See Fournaraki, op. cit., 360–8.
[30] See also Koulouri, present volume; cf. Kokkinos, ‘The Greek intellectual world and the
Olympic Games’.
[31] See indicatively: Parren, ‘Entyposeis ek ton Olympiakon Agonon. Epistoli IV’, 1. On the cult
of the artistic ancestral model of the new male athletic body as that unfolded in the narrations
of the Games and, moreover, as a constituent of the athlete/national hero, see Koulouri,
Athlitismos kai opses tis astikis koinonikotitas, 114–21.
[32] See, by way of indication, the factors of Olympism as defined by Jean M. Leaper: ‘Women and
Modern Olympism’, 150–9.
[33] Actually, this criticism converted into a channel of general disapproval of new industrial times
and peoples, who developed technology beneficially, ‘but the good, the beautiful does not, of
course, preside over the creativity of the modern generations’: Parren, ‘Entyposeis ek ton
Olympiakon Agonon. Epistoli VI’, 1.
[34] The first three places in the women’s singles were won by Esme Simiriotou, Sophia Marinou,
and Ephrosyni Paspati, while second and third place in the mixed doubles were won by S.
Marinou and A. Matsa, respectively. For C. Parren’s enthusiastic perception of Danish
gymnasts’ performance in the Athens Intermediate Olympics, see Fournaraki, ‘The Olympism
of the Ladies’, 338–9 and 374.
[35] Parren, ‘Kai ai gynaikes?’, 3.
[36] Parren, ‘I pompi ton Panathenaion’, 2–3.
[37] Ibid, 2–3 and Parren, ‘Kai ai gynakes?’, 3.
[38] For the celebration in Athens of the fortieth anniversary of the Revival of the Olympic Games
in 1934, see Yannitsiotis, ‘The Fortieth Anniversary in 1934 and the Classical Games’, 103–4.
For the collaboration of the Lyceum of Greek Women with the Hellenic Olympic Committee
on this occasion: IALE, PDS, Sessions of 27 March, 4 April and 18 April 1934.
[39] Apart from the holding of the two big Olympic events (1896, 1906), during the two first
decades of the twentieth century, the use of the Panathenaic Stadium was limited to the
holding of athletic games and gymnastics displays of sports clubs and schools and
performances of ancient drama: Papanikolaou – Christensen, The Panathenaic Stadium.
[40] It should be also noted that the ‘national’ [folk] dances were definitely introduced at school in
1915. On this issue, see Antzaka-Weis, ‘Greek Dancing at School’.
[41] C. Parren borrowed this sneering expression from one of the few men of letters, the poet P.
Nirvanas, who had publicly doubted the eventual success of the Lyceum’s undertaking to
establish this ancient-inspired festival as a mass celebration of May Day: Parren, ‘Niki’, 1586.
Athenian newspapers describe the festive events that usually took place on May Day in the
Greek capital. For example, on Sunday 1 May 1911 Athens was inundated by crowds of
people, who either crossed it in the jam-packed trams, in order to go out into the countryside,
where the great consumption of alcohol and beer was part and parcel of the popular
celebration, or circulated in its streets in flower-bedecked automobiles, bought flowers and
engaged in highly enjoyable flower fights. See indicatively: Scrip (1 May 1911).
[42] In the flower-bedecked marble peristyle of the atrium and under the ‘watchful eye’ of the bust
of Dionysos, the girls of the Lyceum, most of them in ‘archaic’ attire but some dressed as
‘Megaritisses’ (in the female costume of Megara in Attica), danced to the accompaniment of a
band of mandolins and a string orchestra, the dance of the klephts (bandits), syrtos, the island
dance (balos), kalamatianos, pentozali (Cretan dance) and other folk dances, while in the
interludes folk songs or arias composed by Labelet, Kalomoiris or Milanakis, were sung. For a
more detailed description of the ceremony and for a systematic approach to the manner of
performing the dances and songs, see Antzaka-Weis, ‘Oi ellinikoi horoi sto Lykeio ton
Ellinidon’ and Idem, ‘Oi protes parastaseis ellinikon horon tou Lykeiou ton Ellinidon’.
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[43] For the construction of this approach in relation to the process of constituting folklore
interest in Greece as a component element of forming the national ideology and identity, see:
Politis, Romantika Chronia2, 48–60. For the development of the interpretation of the
Neohellenic ‘circle’ dances as descendants of those of Antiquity see also: Antzaka-Weis, ‘Oi
ellinikoi horoi sto Lykeio ton Ellinidon’.
[44] For the institution and the characteristics of the discipline of Laographia in Greece, especially
through the works of Nikolaos G. Politis, see in particular: Kyriakidou-Nestoros, I theoria tis
ellinikis laographias: 99–110 and 148–58. For the relationship between the Lyceum’s
proceedings and Greek Laographia, see specifically: Olympitou, ‘Anazitiseis kai prosanato-
lismoi tis ethnikis ideologias’. For the crucial contribution of Laographia in constructing the
national athletic past and its ‘continuity’ see Koulouri’s paper in the present volume.
[45] For the development of this ‘taste’ and interest, towards the end of the nineteenth century,
and for the performance of folk dances as urban entertainment, see Antzaka-Weis, ‘Oi protes
parastaseis ellinikon horon tou Lykeiou ton Ellinidon’, 191–4.
[46] See especially Nikolopoulos, ‘Entyposis tou koinou apo tous ellinikous horous’; Parren, ‘Niki’,
1585. Cf. Logodosia 1911, 30.
[47] See Anonymous, ‘I hthesini megali eorti’.
[48] Fournaraki, ‘Apo ti gymnastiki sto horo’. See characteristically the republication of
descriptions and comments from Athenian newspapers in the Ladies’ Journal: EK 25/1004–
05 (15 April 1911–15 May 1911), 1585–1612.
[49] See Kyriakidou-Nestoros, I theoria tis ellinikis laographias, 95–96.
[50] Logodosia 1911, 7.
[51] See Glytzouris, ‘Delfikes Yortes (1927–30)’, 150 and idem, present volume.
[52] Krestenitou, Anakoinoseis peri ellinikon horon, 7.
[53] See Fournaraki, ‘Apo ti gymnastiki sto horo’.
[54] Parren, ‘Niki’, 1585.
[55] See more generally in Hobsbawm, ‘Mass-Producing Traditions: Europe 1870–1914’.
[56] Fournaraki, ‘Apo ti gymnastiki sto horo’.
[57] Xenopoulos, ‘O ethnikos horos’, 1596.
[58] Melas, ‘Anthesteria’, 1588.
[59] For the popularization of the Lyceum dancer’s bodies, see especially the description of Anthesteria
made by the ‘demoticist’ writer Zacharias Papantoniou, ‘I hthesini ton ellinikon horon’.
[60] The attack on Western dances is a commonplace in the commentary on the Anthesteria; see
indicatively: Nikolopoulos, ‘Entyposis tou koinou apo tous ellinikous horous’ and Spandonis,
‘Ethikis epivolis’; see also Xenopoulos, ‘O ethnikos horos’. This attack is part of a broader
gendered discourse related to the construction of national identity as opposed, in particular,
to cultural hegemony of the West.
[61] Xenopoulos, ‘O ethnikos horos’, 1597.
[62] Ahoros Theatis [Not-dancing spectator], ‘Oi horoi’, 70.
[63] Logodosia 1911, 29–30.
[64] Historical research has demonstrated the crucial role that the dance teachers played in the
Lyceum’s work with the ‘national dances’. See Antzaka-Weis, ‘Oi ellinikoi horoi sto Lykeio
ton Ellinidon’.
[65] For the circumstances in which this festival was organized, and its content, see in more detail,
Antzaka-Weis, ‘Oi ellinikoi horoi sto Lykeio ton Ellinidon’; cf Fournaraki, ‘Apo ti gymnastiki
sto horo’.
[66] See: Parren, ‘Thriamvos’, 2569 and Logodosia 1913–14, 4.
[67] Apart from the music, which was performed by students of the Athens Conservatory, the
contribution of the students’ choir of the University of Athens and the participation in the
folk dance groups of pupils of the Metaxas Greek-French School, the need of extra female
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dancers was covered by about one hundred girls studying in the Professional and Household
Economy School of the Union of Greek Women. See Logodosia 1913, 8 and Logodosia 1913–
14, 14.
[68] Anonymous, ‘I hthesini eorti eis to Stadion’; see also the press cuttings in IALE, Diafora, F. 1914.
[69] Logodosia 1913, 8.
[70] See the printed programme of the festival in IALE, Efimera. For the content of the festival see
also publications in the Press: IALE, Diafora, F. 1914.
[71] Parren, ‘O horos eis to Stadion’, 2585.
[72] It must be noted, however, that criticisms began to appear in the daily Press, concerning the
strong dose of ‘imagination’ in the Lyceum’s rendering either of the costumes or the dances
themselves, an imagination which is not acceptable when it threatens to ‘adulterate and to
distort the couleur local and character’. See indicatively: Kondylakis, ‘Eis to Stadion’ (the well
known writer and critic uses the pseudonym ‘‘Diavatis’’ [Passer-by]). On the ‘corrective’
interventions that the Lyceum ladies, during the first decades of their activities, exercised
upon the ethnological material as it concerns both the costumes and the dances, see
respectively: Macha-Bizoumi, ‘I imatiothiki tou Lykeiou ton Ellinidon’ and Antzaka-Weis, ‘Oi
ellinikoi horoi sto Lykeio ton Ellinidon’.
[73] See especially: IALE, PDS, Session of 28 April 1915 and Session of 7 May 1915.
[74] C. Parren was considered as being a ‘pacifist’, that is, as supporter of the king’s position in
favour of Greece’s neutrality in the war. See Psarra and Fournaraki, ‘Callirhoe Parren’, 405.
[75] The festival opened and closed with two other tableaux vivants: the first was entitled ‘New
Hellas’, in which were represented, against a backdrop with Constantinople and the church of
Hagia Sophia, Epirus heavily armed, Macedonia with helmet, and Crete in traditional
costume, while the last was a representation of ‘Nike’ [Victory], in the person of a white-robed
Kore, against a backdrop of propylaia in the Doric order. For the 1914 Royal Theatre festival
of the Lyceum, see the descriptions in the newspaper cuttings: IALE, Arheio Typou; cf.
Logodosia 1913, 8.
[76] For the indoor festive events of the Lyceum, see Fournaraki, ‘Apo ti gymnastiki sto horo’; cf.
Antzaka-Weis, ‘Oi ellinikoi horoi sto Lykeio ton Ellinidon’.
[77] For a description of the event in a newspaper, see: Anonymous [sings with the initial H.],
‘Phantasmagoriki anaparastasis archaiou kai neoterou hellenismou’.
[78] Anonymous [sings with the initial H.], ‘Phantasmagoriki anaparastasis archaiou kai neoterou
hellenismou’.
[79] On the issue concerning the incorporation of the prehistory of Greek area into the European
and the Greek historical narrative, see indicatively: Voutsaki, ‘The ‘‘Greekness’’ of Greek
Prehistory’; McEnroe, ‘Cretan Questions’; MacGillivray, Minotaur.
[80] For the political and social issues in Greece of inter-war period, see: Mavrogordatos, Stillborn
Republic; Hadziiosif (ed.), Istoria tis Elladas tou 20ou aiona.
[81] See in particular: Anonymous, ‘I hthesini eorti eis to Stadion. Anaparastasis ton diaforon
epohon tou ellinismou’; cf. the Press clippings in IALE, Arheio Typou.
[82] On Greek feminism of the inter-war period, see: Avdela and Psarra, ‘Eisagogi’; Psarra,
‘Feministries, socialistries, kommounistries’. On the Lyceum’s attitude towards the woman’s
issue and the feminist organizations, see in particular: Psarra, ‘‘‘Proton Ethikon Gynaikeion
Synedrion’’’.
[83] Anonymous, ‘I eorti tou Stadiou. I proti dekapentaetia tou Lykeiou ton Ellinidon’.
[84] See the printed programme of the Centennial festival of 6 April 1930, in IALE, Efimera.
[85] For the terms of the collaboration with the Hellenic Olympic Committee and the content of
the festival (the presentation of the ‘four ages of Hellenism’ was reproduced), see IALE, PDS,
Sessions of 27 March, 4 April and 18 April 1934.
[86] The Stadium festival of the 21 July 1936 was strongly hellenocentric and largely focused on
Antiquity (in the Stadium, apart from the appearance of the Lyceum there was also a display
of ancient contests), was once again combined with an ancient-style ceremony on the
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Acropolis, in which young girls of the Lyceum took part. As is well-known, the Lyceum
presented a performance of ‘traditional dances’ at the opening ceremony of the Olympic
Games in Berlin. See: Detlion, per. II, iss. 1 (December 1937), 8 and IALE, Allilografia, F.
1936.
[87] See Deltion, op. cit., 9.
[88] See the printed programmes of the 1927 and 1928 festivals in IALE, Efimera.
[89] The close collaboration of the Lyceum with Eva Palmer-Sikelianos, who, together with A.
Sikelianos, organized the Delphic Festivals of 1927 and 1930, should also be noted. Eva
Palmer-Sikelianos, who was a member of the Lyceum and participated also in other activities
of the association, selected young ladies from its members to form the chorus of the Oceanids
in Prometheus Bound (1927) and of the Danaids in Suppliant Women (1930) (see Glytzouris,
present volume). This collaboration of the association with the American devotee of Greek
Antiquity has a special importance. As is discussed thoroughly by A. Glytzouris, E. Palmer-
Sikelianos systematically used and elaborated the method of copying poses from ancient
iconographic-artistic sources (a method familiar to the Lyceum’s members since the 1911
Anthesteria), in order to reconstitute the ancient Greek dramatic dance. The Lyceum’s
collaboration with E. Palmer-Sikelianos indicates that probably this method had been used all
these years for the rendering of the ‘ancient dances’ by the Lyceum ladies. But this is an issue
that lies beyond the scope of the present paper.
Abbreviation List
Deltion [period, number, year] ¼ Deltion tou Lykeiou ton Ellinidon [Bulletin of the Lyceum of
Greek Women].
Logodosia 1911, 1912, 1913 and 1914, etc. ¼ Logodosia tou Lykeiou ton Ellinidon [Annual
Report of the Lyceum of Greek Women].
EK ¼ Efimeris ton Kyrion [Ladies’ Journal].
IALE, PDS, Session of [date] ¼ Istoriko Arheio Lykeiou ton Ellinidon [Historical Archive of
the Lyceum of Greek Women], Praktika Synedriaseon tou Dioikitikou Symvouliou
[Minutes of the Board Meetings].
IALE, Diafora, F. [year] ¼ Istoriko Arheio Lykeiou ton Ellinidon [Historical Archive of the
Lyceum of Greek Women], Diafora [Miscellaneous], Fakelos [File].
IALE, Efimera ¼ Istoriko Arheio Lykeiou ton Ellinidon [Historical Archive of the Lyceum of
Greek Women], Efimera [Pamphlets].
IALE, Arheio Typou ¼ Istoriko Arheio Lykeiou ton Ellinidon [Historical Archive of the
Lyceum of Greek Women], Arheio Typou [Press Archive].
IALE, Allilografia, F. [year], E. [number] ¼ Arheio Lykeiou ton Ellinidon [Historical Archive
of the Lyceum of Greek Women], Allilografia [Correspondence], Fakelos [File], Eggrafo
[Document]
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85

‘Resurrecting’ Ancient Bodies: The

Tragic Chorus in Prometheus Bound
and Suppliant Women at the Delphic
Festivals in 1927 and 1930
Antonis Glytzouris
This essay aims at a systematic investigation of theatre performances of Prometheus Bound

and Suppliant Women at the Delphic Festivals (1927, 1930) with particular reference to
the art of dance. It attempts to analyse the artistic and ideological content of the tragic
chorus such as conceived and implemented by Eva Palmer-Sikelianos. The article initially
attempts to analyse her theoretical concerns and then attempts a detailed presentation of the
Delphic performances. The revival of the tragic dance acquired an aura of ‘resurrection’, in
the sense that it embodied a basic ideological component: the forging of Modern Greek
identity upon alleged hereditary relations of ‘affinity’ between the ancient Greece and the
Modern Greek folk culture. In order to illuminate this objective, the essay also examines:
(a) similar approaches attempted in the Modern Greek stage from the end of the
nineteenth century, (b) the Neo-Romantic roots of the initiative and (c) instances of
American lovers of ancient and traditional Greece in the first quarter of the twentieth
century.
1.
The modern Delphic festivals were organized for the first time by the Greek poet
Angelos Sikelianos and his American wife Eva Palmer-Sikelianos in May 1927 at the
archaeological site of Delphi in central Greece. In antiquity, the site had functioned as
an oracle sanctuary dedicated to god Apollo and venue of the Pythian games, that is,
the most prestigious after the Olympics athletic games in the ancient world. The
modern festivals articulated the grand visions of the poet, dubbed ‘Delphic Idea’, as
expressed in numerous lectures and publications since the early 1920s. [1] The
objective of Sikelianos’ Delphic enterprise was to make Delphi once again the ‘navel
86

of the earth’ (it was reputed to be so in antiquity) through the establishment of a new
world organization with Delphi as the headquarters, as well as through the
foundation of a Delphic University. The revival of facets of ancient Greek culture was
central in Sikelianos’ Delphic Idea: it was perceived as the means for the intellectual
salvation of the human race worldwide. In this lofty effort modern Greece, as the
perceived successor of ancient Greece, was to play a leading role.
The first modern Delphic festivals lasted two days (9–10 May 1927). The program
of the first day consisted of a tour at the archaeological site, modern Greek folk music
performances, a presentation of the Hymn to Apollo and a performance of Aeschylus’
Prometheus Bound in the ancient theatre of Delphi. The second day consisted of a
modern Greek folk art exhibit, a lecture by the German archaeologist Wilhelm
Dörpfeld entitled ‘On Ancient Theatre’ as well as athletic competitions in the context
of which amateur dancers, wearing reproductions of ancient armour, performed the
ancient Greek dance ‘pyrrichios’. The activities of the second day were concluded early
in the evening with a Byzantine music concert, a performance in dance form of the
ancient Greek myth of the fight between Apollo and the Python, a repeat
performance of the Hymn to Apollo as well as a torch-relay conducted in the
Sacred Way by athletes. [2]
The first Delphic festivals received wide publicity at home and abroad. As a result,
they were eagerly repeated in 1930, this time complete with a dynamic advertising
campaign. Besides Eva Palmer-Sikelianos, who incurred all the expenses for the 1927
festival, the state Greek Tourism Organization as well as a number of private sponsors
contributed financially. The expanded second Delphic festival commenced on 1 May
1930 with a tour of the archaeological site, followed by a performance of Aeschylus’
Prometheus Bound (incorporating different actors and a new stage set, compared to
the 1927 performance of the same play). The day was concluded with the customary
presentation of the Hymn to Apollo. The second day included a modern Greek folk
art exhibit, a performance of Aeschylus’ Suppliant Women as well as a lecture by
Sikelianos himself ‘On the Delphic Enterprise’. The Pythian athletic games, dedicated
to the warriors of the Greek War of Independence in 1821, were conducted on the
third day, followed by a performance of the pyrrhichios dance. It should be noted that
according to the official program, ‘during meals villagers will sing folk bandit songs,
accompanied by the music of local instruments’. The entire program of the second
Delphic festival was repeated twice (6–8 and 11–13 May). However, the Sikelianos’
efforts to permanently establish the Delphic festival proved to be in vain. Following
the 1930 festival Eva Palmer-Sikelianos, the main financial sponsor of the events, had
gone bankrupt. Soon afterwards, she returned to the United States in 1933. [3]
2.
This paper will focus on a specific aspect of the Delphic festivals of 1927 and 1930,
that is, the revival of the tragic chorus in the Aeschylus tragedies performed at the
Delphi ancient theatre as part of the festivals in question. The set up was intimately
87

connected to a more holistic vision of the ‘resurrection’ of antiquity which,

throughout the Delphic festival, positioned theatrical performances side by side with
athletic events and craft fairs. The Delphic Revival ‘pursued the course of drama, art
and social thought, with athletics as pieces of a more ambitious program’. [4] Thus,
the sporting events were not separated from the theatrical performances. Similarly,
the exhibition of folk-art weavings was not at odds with the Phyrric dance or the
Septeria (the symbolic dance that represented the battle of Apollo with Python). A
basic component of all these manifestations of Angelos Sikelianos’ Delphic Ideal was
the exploration of a purely ‘Greek’ expression as a clear reaction to the modern
Western culture. As Eva Palmer–Sikelianos put it in an interview to Photos Yofillis,
‘everything will be shown purified from foreign elements. You will receive only what
is pure Greek: on the one hand ancient art and life and on the other popular art and
life’. [5]
The incorporation of sports at the Delphic Festivals of the 1927 constituted a
kind of reply to the recent revival of the Olympic Games. Sikelianos, a staunch
lover of antiquity was in this way reacting to the pernicious, as he perceived it,
growth of modern mass sport. For this reason, it was prescribed that participation
in the Delphic athletic events was restricted to young villagers of the mountain
Parnassus area. As E. Palmer-Sikelianos wrote in 1924 in her application
requesting permission to use the ancient stadium at Delphi for the modern
Delphic festivals, these amateur athletes were the original heirs of a Greek
competitive ‘tradition’, which was maintained virtually immutable over the
centuries throughout Greece, and especially within the ‘virile people of Parnassus’;
presenting the local games of the area as part of the Delphic Festivals would be
‘an excellent opportunity’ for the diffusion of the authentic Greek athletic
‘tradition’. [6] In a similar way, Eva Palmer-Sikelianos rejected off-the-peg
clothing industry in favour of folk clothing as well as Swedish gymnastics which
the then Greek director of Athletics [Ioannis Chrysafis] was promoting in the
Ministry of Education. For Eva Palmer-Sikelianos, this was a type of gymnastics
which created ‘thousands of mechanical dolls’ in an industrial manner. [7] Her
vision of athletics aimed at an idealized model athlete who, in some way
interconnected with the ancient dancer and was purified of modern degeneracy.
[8] Viewed from the same perspective, Palmer-Sikelianos was also opposed to the
independence of dance as an art form – the ‘tiresome stiffness of the ballet’ – or
to the undulations of the body of the modern dancer (it is typical that even in
the Pyrrhic dance she wanted ‘men with heavy armour which would force them
into movements; there could be no graceful leaps or pirouettes’). [9]
A thorough investigation of Palmer-Sikelianos’ concepts on the art of dance is
directly related to the main theme of the present essay. Theatre performances were at
the core of the programme of Delphic events, while the remaining activities were
somewhat peripheral. Moreover, an elevation of the significance of the human ‘body’
was at stake, as well as an emphasis on dance, stage-direction and costume-design. All
these issues went beyond the territory of verbal communication and tried to integrate
88

in a particular way this purely ‘Greek’ criticism of facets of modern culture. I believe
that this shift of the centre of gravity from dramatic text to performance text had very
serious consequences for the history of modern Greek theatre as well as for other
issues related to the modern Greek ideological identity. Certainly, many aspects of the
Delphic theatre performances are of broader artistic and ideological interest.
However, it is no coincidence that, as all relevant sources indicate, the most
significant event of the Sikelianos Delphic events was the revival of the tragic chorus.
Moreover, all relevant sources acknowledge Eva Palmer-Sikelianos as the driving
force behind the developments related to the tragic choruses. In 1924, this American
lover of Greek antiquity made it her goal to make choruses the ‘heart of dramatic
performances’ once more, ‘the chorus which sings and dances and expresses through
its movements all the emotion of the drama’. [10] Palmer-Sikelianos’ theatrical past
up until 1927 was exceptionally modest. [11] Her main occupations after 1907 were
learning Byzantine musical theory alongside the composer Konstantin Psachos as well
as practicing traditional weaving with the loom. [12] From 1924 until her departure
from Greece in 1933, she dedicated herself to implementing her husband’s Delphic
idea.
Palmer-Sikelianos’ main approach to the ancient chorus was essentially based on
an interpretation of Plato’s definition (that ‘the chorus is the unification of poetry,
music and gymnastics’) and, second, on a reference of Aristotle’s Poetics (that ‘the
chorus expresses in movement the ethics, passions and actions of the actors’). A
derivative of the Aristotelian reference was her view that the ancients had, ‘a highly
developed mimetic, pantomimic power’ in chorus and that ‘they expressed entire
plots through movements’. Embedded in the Platonic triad was her belief that, ‘in
ancient Greece there was no dance for its own sake’. [13] Paradoxically, the Platonic
unity of the chorus predated tragedy and was an element in its creation. Eva
Sikelianos believed also that ancient Greek dance emerged and flourished during the
archaic period (ca. 800–480 BC). These views came into agreement with the deep
appreciation she harboured for Aeschylus as being closer to the archaic period than
the other two famous tragedians of the fifth century BC, that is, Sophocles and
Euripides. [14] However, Palmer-Sikelianos was negative about the contribution of
academia and in particular of scholars of ancient theatre to the issue of the revival of
the ancient chorus. She alleged that it was not an issue for study and archaeological
precision, but rather of internal enlightenment. [15] In reality, these views were not
only related to the ancient past, but primarily to the present and future of the art of
dance. The major boom in Western dance in the first decades of the century was
immaterial to Sikelianos since, as a whole, modern dance violated the Platonic
triptych of poetry, music and gymnastics. [16] In other words, the issue went beyond
the bounds of a simple revival of performances of ancient Greek tragedy and aimed at
forming a new art form which – based on a synthesis of Platonic elements – would
resurrect the ancient form. [17]
Palmer-Sikelianos was certainly neither the first nor the only one who, having
started with ancient chorus, envisioned the reformation of the art of dance. At the
89

turn of the twentieth century, a similar undertaking had been advanced by Isadora
Duncan. The famous American dancer and advocate of the European Neo-Romantic
movement took as her starting point the view that she wanted both the ancient and
the modern man to be a product of nature and she placed the eternal ‘solar plexus’ as
the centre of his expression through dance. [18] For her compatriot Eva Palmer-
Sikelianos, however, the aforementioned views did not refer to the prototype of
archaic (or even classical) Greece, but to a later period of Hellenistic decline. [19] In
her attempt to transcend this modern decadent state, Palmer-Sikelianos discovered –
after her first encounter with modern Greece – that the ancient dance could not be
revived through the channels of nature but through the river of history. [20] More
specifically, Palmer-Sikelianos, in full agreement with basic tenets of Greek folklore,
claimed that the elements of ancient Greek dance were alive in the sense that they had
been preserved since antiquity in the Greek countryside – which was supposedly
unaffected by modern Western civilization. [21] Thus, she argued, that in Greek
villages, ‘the dance rhythms are all ancient and unknown in European music’.
However, she also added that village dances, even if they were valuable ‘because they
show the strength of the Greek tradition’, were ‘small relics of ancient dance on which
no new development of the art could be based’. In her opinion, contemporary Greek
dances incorporated the Platonic triptych, but lacked the pantomimic dimension.
[22] The revival of ancient chorus should be based on history, but in a more
original – or rather, more direct – manner.
3.
In this way, Palmer-Sikelianos attempted to find a solution to the mimetic nature of
ancient chorus whilst, at the same time, forming a purely ‘Greek’ form of gymnastics
which would become the basis of the artistic expression of the dancer. For this reason,
she turned to ancient pottery, relief carvings and sculptures, with the aim of bringing
their forms to life. [23] Initially, this was because they coincided chronologically with
the high-point of ancient dance, and second because they presented the figures with
the legs and head ‘de profile’, and the body ‘en face’. Palmer-Sikelianos believed that
this was not an iconographic convention but a real dance move which was later
named by her as ‘the Apollonian movement in dance’. In this movement, the dancer
had to aspire to ‘the isolating effect of keeping the head in profile with the chest ‘en
face’ which is characteristic of archaic Greek art’. [24]
The foundation for the revival of ancient chorus was music. [25] In this regard the
historical continuity via Byzantine music was even more clearly ascertained: ‘Greek
music is ancient’, and certainly, ‘the only art form which has remained alive since
antiquity’, the only example which clearly demonstrates, ‘that the Greece of today is
the continuation of the ancient’. [26] Byzantine musical tradition provided another
important function for the revival of the Aeschylean text: ‘the unbreakable
connection between speech and music’. [27] However, there was only continuity
concerning the musical system which tradition had preserved. In other words, the
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goal was not to adapt ecclesiastical hymns to the text of the tragedy, but to use one
method which the church and the people had preserved by employing it in new
artistic creation. [28]
Therefore, even though Angelos Sikelianos wanted Manolis Kalomoiris to compose
the music of Prometheus Bound, his wife reacted strongly and eventually she
succeeded in imposing the selection of Psachos. [29] Thanks to her insistence,
Psachos was pressured into writing the Prometheus score in a Byzantine-way music
notation, offering ‘to all careful listeners the general idea of Greek music as a whole
from ancient times until our days, both as far as music and rhythms are concerned’.
[30] In early 1925, Palmer-Sikelianos began to select the members of the chorus of
Oceanides with girls from the Lyceum of Greek Women and then continued to
develop the choreography. [31] For this task she had the assistance of the work of
Psachos as well as the sketches, drawn by Eva Sikelianos herself and the young
sculptor Bella Raftopoulou, of pre-classical pottery iconography depicting dancing
scenes. [32] More specifically, dance moves were selected from the ancient images
whenever a pose or gesture matched the essential meaning of specific words or
phrases in the text. [33] Once Palmer-Sikelianos had associated every word or
phrase in poetry with the representations on pottery, she then had to put them in
order and connect them to Psachos’ music. From the spring of 1926, when she
again called the girls from the Lyceum, until early 1927, when the chorus had
completed its Daedalean task, Palmer-Sikelianos taught the music orally and
demonstrated specific movements for each word or phrase of Prometheus Bound.
[34]
This picture is completed by the handwritten choreographic guide to Prometheus,
which is preserved at the Centre for Asia Minor Studies in Athens, Greece and which
constitutes, from a historical perspective, probably the most important piece of
documentation in connection with the staging of Prometheus. [35] The figures which
have been sketched, as well as the comments which accompany them, refer to a
pantomimic expression, dominated by gestures and bent knees while the body and
head remain, generally, rigid. [36] A comparison of the sketches which were copied
from ancient pottery with the notebook proves that in all cases, an effort was made to
accurately transfer body positions, as depicted in ancient vases, to the choreography.
The chorus would implement the ‘Apollonian movement’ hence achieving a strict
stylization of dancing bodies: the legs and the head in a lateral position with the chest
en face; a series of poses which highlight a sense of inflexibility and, in any case, not
the free and fluid expression of the body in the orchestra of the ancient theatre. The
overall result of the intense figurativeness came both from the stylistic choices and
from the fact that the postures and gestures of the dancers were suffocatingly
calculated in their attempt to ‘resurrect’ the pottery, mimicking the literal meaning of
the words. Comparative measurements led to the unbelievable total of 285 alternate
poses, something which means that each girl had to change into at least three
positions in every verse in order to render the literal meaning of each word or
phrase. [37] This highly stylized version of the chorus was also connected with the
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steps involved, which were very modest during the performance and which also had a
pantomimic character. [38] All the above is complemented and corroborated both by
articles in contemporary press and by the visual material available: photographs of
the performances and the film of the Delphic Prometheus by the Gaziadis brothers,
the oldest preserved modern Greek documentary which provides us with a ‘visual
code’ of priceless historical value. [39] A. D. Keramopoulos, Professor of archaeology
at the University of Athens, gives us a vivid description of the chorus performance in
Prometheus:
Throughout the dialogue, namely the ‘episodes’, the chorus sat on the ground
watching the developing action. However, when its turn came, they sang, danced
and made a huge variety of movement of the body, and certainly of the hands, with
these changing at each phrase. In order to understand its work, we must compare it
to modern ballet. The prima ballerina now gives us the ideal of modern dance:
Huge leaps, both in height and length, spinning the body until she is dizzy and then
sudden immobile postures lead to resounding applause. Dizziness is the ideal [. . .].
The chorus at Delphi made no violent movements or jumps. Immediately after the
action came the music, [. . .] the chorus danced calmly to the rhythm of the song,
bending their bodies in various ways, their arms, necks, the wrists of one or both
hands, this or that knee, making mimicked expressions through movements,
making the meaning of the verses tangible, always in absolute agreement, forming
at the same time various lines and clusters and filling the orchestra with superior
aesthetic decorum [. . .] Dancing was based on numerous images from ancient
works of Greek art, statues, reliefs and paintings on pottery. I observed that they
also mimicked well-known positions of the arms – such as those of Achermos’ Nike
found at Delos, which is a position opposed to the psychology underlying the
movements and must be attributed primarily to the clumsiness of Archaic art and
is not found in previous works from that period. [40]
The truth is that in the chorus of Suppliant Women, which involved far more
dancers compared to Prometheus Bound, more importance was given to grouping
as well as to movements and arrangement in the orchestra. However, yet again,
both reviews and photographs of the performance testify in general terms to its
intense archaic appearance, and to a succession of positions with the legs and the
head ‘de profile’ and the body ‘en face’. In all cases, witnesses speak of a
‘resurrection’ of ancient Greek sculptures and Egyptian pottery or liken the dance
to an ‘archaic frieze which moves before our surprised eyes unfolding slowly like a
ribbon’. [41] The method of combining intense stylization and mimetic expression
of the literal meaning of the text was also followed in the Suppliant Women. [42]
In this case too, this treatment of the chorus had another effect in terms of its
deployment within the orchestra. Although the performance was not given in the
picture-frame stage of the nineteenth-century theatre, the conception of the chorus
was based on lines and not on volumes. As is generally the case, the outdoor
theatre was used solely for the suggestive elements of the setting, such as the echo
which was created by the Faedriades rocks, in what was again a ‘resurrection’ of
the ancient landscape. [43]
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Nevertheless, almost all critics at the time recognized that for the first time in the
history of modern Greek theatre they were seeing a disciplined tragic chorus, which
sang and danced in harmony to the verses of Aeschylus. Everyone acknowledged that
they had attended a performance of ancient tragedy, which for the first time placed
the chorus ‘in the fullness of its elements’ at the centre of the ancient drama. More
precisely, the chorus was the protagonist of the Delphic performances. [44] From this
perspective, the Delphic performances constituted a turning point in the stage
interpretation of the ancient Greek drama in Greece. [45] However, the most
significant impact of the above conception of the chorus was the arbitrary
downgrading of the verses into simple acoustic and visual units and the supplanting
of any interpretative attempt of the role of the chorus. The presentation of the chorus
which the spectators of the Delphic performances experienced was certainly an
artistic innovation. However, the chorus episodes were almost autonomous musical-
dance events, independent from the remaining body of the performance. [46]
Moreover, the text of the tragedy itself was not perceptible, since the weight fell on
pantomimic and musical-dance presentation. [47] The aestheticism which domi-
nated the performance of the chorus episodes and the downgrading of the text does
not mean, however, that Palmer-Sikelianos’ approach did not rely on a specific
ideological position.
4.
Returning to the choreography guide to Prometheus, we notice that a different
deployment of the chorus appears in the choreography for six lines of the third
stasimon. Moreover, the choreographic rendering of verses 887–90, inspired from the
meaning of the verse (‘with those who he is related to by marriage’), proposes the
following movement: ‘like a syrtos [modern Greek folk dance], each dancer with one
hand on the shoulder of the next’. This is followed by two lines with pantomime and
then, in order to render the following verses, the choreography guide indicates that
the dancers ‘split into pairs and turn’ and ‘advance like a balos [modern Greek folk
dance]’. The representation of the next verse has already been replaced by mimetic
movements, but the insertion of the balos and the syrtos is particularly significant.
Here, Palmer-Sikelianos’ model did not come from ancient pottery but from
traditional Greek dances. The exceptionally brief use of folk dances is again related to
the mimetic rendition of the meaning of the verses (related by marriage, wedding)
which refers to a group expression. Moreover, the use of folk dances is not connected
so much with dance conventions as with artistic compositions which complement the
archaic-style dance moves presented in other parts of the play. Yet, the important
point is that a connection between the meaning of the chorus’ verses from an ancient
Greek tragedy and the modern Greek folk-dance tradition was materialized. The
evidence of the choreography guidebook on this point is corroborated by other
sources as well, according to which the link between ancient literature and modern
Greek folk tradition may have been noted as the chorus entered the orchestra. [48]
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Throughout the duration of the performance, ancient and modern Hellenism

certainly went hand in hand with the music of Psachos, which was another link
between the ancient and modern Greek worlds. As at all Delphic events, folk
music and village dances by traditional folk costume-wearers accompanied
renditions of ancient dances such as the dance of Apollo with Python, or even
the Pyrrhic dance performed at the ancient stadium at Delphi. As far as the
Pyrrhic dance is concerned, it would seem that Angelos and Eva wanted to
‘resurrect’ it, but not only through the method of copying pottery. They therefore
hired the aviator Thanos Veloudios, who undertook to teach the Pyrrhic dance to
select soldiers, regarding it as a distant ancestor of the modern folk dance
zeimbekikos. In order to revive it, he turned to ancient depictions but, above all, he
studied the contemporary ‘skilled folk dancers’, and was absolutely certain of the
continuity involved:
The post-Byzantine Modern Greek rebetes [i.e. musicians who created the
underground folk musical genre of rebetiko which flourished between 1920s and
1950s] and manges [i.e. dropouts of the Greek counterculture which appeared in
the first decades of the 20th-century, closely associated to the rebetes], are the
mystics and successors of a beautiful and glorious ‘Greekness’,
He wrote three decades later (when, of course, to a certain degree, the world of
Rebetika had also become firmly established in Greek intellectual life, see Veloudios,
‘Epitideigmi Pyrrihiou eis 9/8’, 125). [49] Regarding the tragic chorus in Prometheus,
it should be highlighted that the feeling was somewhat different compared to the
above-mentioned views. The 40-piece orchestra, hidden in Prometheus’ rock, or the
two solos interpreted by the operatic contralto Maria Yagkaki, suggest that, in
Tsarouchis’ estimate, ‘alongside the music with the pipes and drums’ which
accompanied other Delphic events, Psachos’ music ‘seems weak and somewhat
Lenten [anaemic]’. [50] However, no witness of the time doubts the fact that the
music of the performances used melodies and rhythms from traditional Greek music.
A similar approach was also on display in the silk costumes which adorned the
bodies of the dancers. They were ‘heavy’ costumes which hindered the body when
dancing: ‘it was a difficult garment, and a heavy one, which slipped from its correct
position at every movement of the body’, recalled the leader of the chorus Koula
Pratsika later. [51] Nevertheless, it had one great advantage: with its folds, it
highlighted the stylized movement and the re-creation of the body positions taken
from ancient pottery. A traditional production process, which was known by Palmer-
Sikelianos, was used to manufacture the clothing: weaving on a loom. This factor,
which sought to ‘dress’ the bodies of the members of the orchestra ideologically, was
yet again integrated into a broader vision of the convergence between ancient and
modern Greek folk cultures and complemented the folk art exhibition which
accompanied the other events at the Delphic festivals. Certainly, Palmer’s interest in
costume had begun from the bourgeois New York circles at the end of the nineteenth
century, when she bought
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many yards of very expensive crèpe [. . .] stuff that really came from China, but not
at all like what is now called crèpe de Chine. It was heavy and supple, and therefore
rather good for draping in Greek folds. [52]
Later, her interests met with green-blue silken tunics in the Parisian performances of
Symbolist dramas which would lead, finally, to the Delphic Festival in their historic
maturity. [53] Palmer-Sikelianos consciously avoided archaeological accuracy in her
attempt to create the costumes for the performances. Nonetheless, she ‘resurrected’ the
ancient Greek figures in a different manner: ‘I knew that the ancient Greeks were
supposed not to have silk, but I did not really care. I was not trying to be strictly correct’.
The goal was to prepare ‘very elaborate dresses’ woven on a loom in such a way that the
Oceanides dancing would make a reference to Greek reliefs. [54] Through the above-
mentioned Neo-Romantic European channels, and with Raymond Duncan as a very
important link, Palmer decided, after 1907, to devote herself to the art of weaving in
Greek villages. [55] This traditional method of weaving was ultimately used for the
costumes in Prometheus and Suppliant Women, and therefore ‘it revived the lost folding
of ancient Greek tunics and mantles’. [56]
The issue was not therefore purely theatrical, as was also betrayed by the great
exhibition of Delphic costumes which was organized by the Metropolitan Museum of
New York in the summer of 1936. [57] From at least the beginning of the Inter-war
period, Palmer-Sikelianos had begun to formulate opinions which supported the
creation of a ‘traditional’ Greek clothing industry. After the Delphic Festival, this was
transformed into a more coherent proposal. In her exceptionally interesting article
dating in the summer of 1930, she proposed both the creation of a purely ‘Greek’
fashion in the off-the-peg clothing industry (as had happened with ‘Indian’ clothing)
and the production model of small-scale ‘cottage industry’ as the basis of ‘economic
progress’. Moreover, she considered it necessary to create a national bazaar for hand-
made ‘Greek’ clothing and to form a ‘national order for protecting the industry’
which would aim at attracting the interest of foreigners both in Greek antiquity and
in the country’s folk culture. For aesthetic reasons, this initiative would develop a
‘Greek style’ and at the same time would position the country firmly in the
international marketplace. This, again, was a more comprehensive cultural and
business proposition based on ‘Greekness’. [58]
5.
The intention of this essay is not, of course, to exhaustively describe the revival of the
tragic chorus at the Delphic performances, but to define its artistic and ideological
importance from the perspective of the aforementioned essential interpretative
stance: the ‘resurrection’ of antiquity through the nationalistic historical conception
of Hellenism and the emphasis on the relationship of Greek antiquity with modern
Greek folk traditions. In this light it might be advisable to consider the limitations in
place for a modernist revival of the tragic chorus or – more correctly – its
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containment within an idealised ‘resurrection’ of ancient Greek elements which

survived hidden in various inaccessible corners of the Greek countryside. The
question is certainly not new, since it leads us to the first expression of folkloric
interests in the nineteenth century. Even in the theatrical sphere, Palmer-Sikelianos
was obviously not the first to think of introducing popular tradition to performances
of ancient tragedy. Music with a Byzantine motif, composed by Ioannis Sakellarides,
had already been used in performances (in ancient Greek language) by Georgios
Mistriotis since the last years of the nineteenth century. [59] A connection between
ancient Greek chorus and traditional Greek music was also noted in December 1903
in an even more interesting manner. Isadora Duncan (known to Palmer-Sikelianos
since the beginning of the century) danced in Athens the third stasimon of Suppliant
Women, ‘accompanied by a nasal music tone’ (i.e. in a Byzantine motif). It was sung
by a 10-member black-clad choir of boys, headed by a cantor, a group which was
probably a mixture of peasants and trainee monks from the Rizareios School. [60]
Leaving the Greek capital, Duncan took with her the boys choir and together they
gave performances as the chorus of Suppliant Women in Vienna and Berlin. However,
the experiments into the historic revival of ancient dance quickly came to an end: the
‘Greek-Byzantine’ melodies were replaced by the chords of Wagner, and Duncan later
described the attempt as ‘a glorious bubble’. [61]
It was no coincidence that Eva Sikelianos saw the aforementioned attempt as an
opportunity for the dancer to understand the ‘secret’, and ‘to face’ Apollo; an
opportunity, however, which she did not make the most of. [62] Nevertheless, the use
of folk Greek music in performances of ancient Greek tragedies in later years is
witnessed by performances of her brother (the brother-in-law of Angelos Sikelianos),
Raymond Duncan. [63] Since at least 1919, Vasos Kanellos (a student of Duncan)
and his wife Tanagra had been combining popular music and traditional dances with
ancient Greek subjects in dance and drama performances in the United States. [64]
The list grows longer if one also takes into account the plethora of as-yet unexplored
ancient dances which were performed by a host of Greek and foreign women dancers
in Athens during the second decade of the twentieth century; [65] or the fact that the
dances of Loie Fuller in 1914 brought thousands of spectators to the Panathenaic
Stadium. [66] The filmed reports from many celebratory events in the Inter-war
period are perhaps even more eloquent. These capture masses of Greeks in the
Panathenaic Stadium who were thirsty for visions of the Great Idea, the ideology of
Greek irredentism, watching parades with basket bearing Athenian women, Byzantine
empresses and women peasants in folk costumes, in an illustration of all the centuries
of Hellenism. In this respect the Lyceum of Greek Women was most important as it
had formulated an ideological framework within which the co-operation with
Palmer-Sikelianos later took place. The method of copying ancient pottery, for
example, had been used as early as the Anthestiria Festival in 1911, where the girls of
the Lyceum danced folk dances in an antique-looking dress. Beginning in 1925 and in
the subsequent festivals of the Lyceum at the Panathenaic Stadium various ‘ancient
dances’ were represented and associated with syrtos and balos. [67] The first
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impression from all these cases is, however, that the efforts to recreate ancient dances
were still fragmentary and incomplete. Palmer-Sikelianos’ major contribution was
primarily to bring these elements together as a whole for the first time in
performances of ancient tragedy, offering a unified theatrical experience: the
spectators of the performances at Delphi watched a tragic chorus which wore stylish
silk costumes woven in a loom, sang verses from an ancient Greek tragedy in the
modern Greek language, danced to traditional music with Byzantine motifs, assumed
archaic poses and sometimes danced the syrtos and the balos.
This achievement was important because it revealed a consistent approach to the
staging of ancient drama. In presenting these works in this way, Palmer-Sikelianos
created an original director’s perspective which organically highlighted the idea of the
continuity of Hellenism on stage: from the Archaic period until 1927. To be precise,
‘Hellenism’, without ever escaping the bounds of history, began at the same time to
formulate a transcendent, almost ‘mystical’ entity within Delphic mythology. In other
words, it began to be formulated both as a continuation of and as the intrinsic
superiority of the Greek race. In his attempt to support the link of dances and music
in the revival of ancient tragedy, Angelos Sikelianos attempted to overcome the
conflict between Asian and Greek music, attributing the latter to a distant historic
past: ‘the body of the Greek music tradition’, he wrote in 1930, ‘is rooted in an almost
prehistoric ground, within which the Doric and Asian lyre – in other words, the East
and real Greece – may have clashed at many points, but in the end, from the primeval
Orphic years, they have been blended together naturally, organically and in technical
terms’. This was, in essence, also the reason why ‘they could write the melodies of all
peoples’ from the Danube to the Far East using Greek, Byzantine notation. For
similar reasons, the Greek dance was superior to the dances of other peoples: it was a
historic continuation of the archetypical Greek dance of Apollo with Python, which
resulted from a Nietzschean composition. [68]
As one is beginning to suspect, the Delphic revival of ancient dances did not stem so
much from the ‘Greek’ element as from a specific ideological basis which offered the
synthesis of the arts via the Platonic triad. This ideological background manifested itself
in the musical construction of the performance, the move towards the enchanting
irrationalism of the archaic age as well as the dismissal of academic tradition in the
staged revival of ancient tragedy or the handling of the performance as a religious ritual
for unifying the community by worshipping a ‘Christian’ Prometheus. When one
reaches the last chapters of Palmer-Sikelianos’ autobiography, where the American lover
of antiquity recollects, around 1938, her ideological fathers – Arthur Schopenhauer,
Richard Wagner, Friedrich Nietzsche and her dancing prototype, Duncan – he/she
realizes that her interpretation as a director was directly connected to the ‘fin de siècle’
Symbolism and Decadence; it was a product of the Neo-Romantic and irrational
challenge to bourgeois culture, its scientism, its industrialisation, its mass modernist
society. [69] Palmer-Sikelianos’ Neo-Romantic roots had been laid down at a young age
in America, even before she became acquainted with Nietzsche’s Birth of Tragedy. In the
period 1889–1892, she recited poetry by Edgar Allan Poe and choruses from the
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tragedies of Algernon Charles Swinburne in an attempt to force language ‘beyond

melody’. [70] Furthermore, the central axis of the Delphic endeavour was the Wagner-
inspired meaning of the ‘celebratory’ event, through which theatre would again acquire
the ancient character of a collective and almost religious experience; it would again
become the magical place where the primordial myths of the community are replicated.
Thus, the attempt is included in a particular branch of French Symbolist theatre and
Decadence which was led by well-known descendants of Wagnerism such as Edouard
Schuré and Joséphin Péladan. [71] The similarities between the views of Sikelianos on
machine-made Western dress and those which were exhibited through the Arts and
Crafts Movement are also interesting. The relationship has not been thoroughly studied,
although Arts and Crafts was a movement which had an enormous impact (primarily in
the United Kingdom and the United States) from the last decades of the nineteenth
century until the First World War. One of the arts promoted within this context, and
certainly in connection to the discovery of folk culture, was weaving on the loom, with
perhaps the most typical case being that of Ethel Mairet. The foundations of the
movement were rooted, once again, in the idealistic Neo-Romanticism of John Ruskin,
Walter Pater, William Morris and Thomas Carlyle, and flirted intently with the East
from where it received inspiration (mainly from Japan, Persia and India). [72]
Finally, one should not overlook the fact that these ideas relate to a specific
historical context; an age when certain scholars, based on thinkers such as Oswald
Spengler, began to seek out political solutions to the anti-parliamentarianism of
‘Greek community’ and ‘community consciousness’. [73] The Delphic Idea was also
based on the ‘communalist’ proposal which expressed the ideals of the major Anti-
Enlightenment ideological movement: ‘a synthesis of the communities of the Arian
race’ in that ‘diamond of the Earth’ (Greece) based ‘around the metropolis of
Delphi’. [74] It was a full-scale attack on the French revolutionary tradition, on
liberalism, on individualism and on parliamentary democracy. In spite of the best
attempts of many researchers to disassociate Angelos Sikelianos from his relationship
with the above reactionary political tradition (as the latter was a primary theoretical
prerequisite for Fascism), a more level-headed historian can easily perceive the
associations. [75]
6.
The employment of Byzantine music in the Mistriotis and Duncan performances at
the beginning of the twentieth century had been treated by a large section of the
modern Greek intelligentsia with irony or awkward smiles. But the use of the same
music in the tragic performances of the Delphic festivals in 1927 and 1930 won wide
approval. [76] The Delphic Festivals’ influence was critical: they helped crystallize a
redefinition of modern Greek nationalism, a redefinition desperately needed after the
military defeat in Asia Minor and other events in 1922 which essentially signalled the
end of most irredentist claims. In the case of the Delphic festivals, the new Greek
nationalism materialized with the help of a certain perception of the Neo-Romantic
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and Anti-Enlightenment European tradition. By enriching in this way the national

Idea, Greek reality would come to be viewed all the more intensely via the ideological
filter of ‘Greekness’: ‘Greek’ nature, ‘Greek’ light, ‘Greek’ style, ‘Greek’ speech. [77]
One should also not forget that Palmer-Sikelianos did not base her work on any
foreign director. Actually, no ‘Greek’ revival of ancient drama had taken place up
until then using costumes woven on the loom, Byzantine music and the syrtos and
balos dances. In reality, of course, her choices were not ‘Greek’ at all but that is
something we know today with the benefit of hindsight. For Palmer-Sikelianos, who
treated the Western bourgeois tradition with disdain, something in the cultural
foundations of the country was being transcended by reading the domestic reality of
Greece via a dynamic entity, ‘Greekness’, which could be utilized and capitalized
upon internationally. In this way, the Modern Greek suggestion of how to revive
ancient Greek theatre entered the international cultural environment, something
which had not been feasible up until then. [78]
Undoubtedly, the turning point was the use of domestic, folk tradition. When
researchers read the pages of Duncan’s autobiography which recount the discovery of
ancient civilization in the faces of the Greek villagers of the time, they are left with no
doubt that the Duncans certainly believed they had found the exotic natives of a
primitive tribe, who were the untouched descendants of the ancient Greeks. [79]
Palmer-Sikelianos had a similar feeling when she first heard a Greek folk song sung by
Angelos Sikelianos’ sister, and Raymond’s wife, Penelope. The first Greek-American
wedding opened the horizons for reviving ancient tragedy based on Greece’s folk
tradition. The second marriage between Eva Palmer and Angelos Sikelianos completed
it. Of course, neither Duncan nor Palmer was the only Americans to ‘discover’ ancient
Greek remnants in the culture of the Balkan natives which they could ‘resurrect’. This is
indeed an area which is related to a new type of American philhellenism, a worship of
both ancient and modern Greece, the latter being the heir of the former. In addition to
Isadora and Raymond Duncan, the inscrutable figures of Prof. Von Oftendhal (or
Oftenthal) and John Alden were integral in the burgeoning classical education offered
by American universities. [80] A quick overview of the important activities of the
American theatre manager George Cram Cook (‘Jig’) and his wife and dramatist, Susan
Glaspell, in Greece show that the worship of ancient, un-urbanized and un-
industrialized Greece was a result of a radical doubt of their Western, modern
identity. [81] Moreover, when they all arrived in Greece they cast off their Western
clothing and put on the chlamys or a fustanella and then tried to adopt a ‘Greek’ code
of conduct, whether ancient or traditional. [82] From a similar perspective, the Greek
language was treated by Palmer-Sikelianos as music in the sense intended by
Schopenhauer. [83] Moreover, when Eva was watching traditional weaving
techniques in the villages she noticed that spinning with the distaff was a social
activity, a pleasant means of social interaction, which was much more pleasing that
Western ‘tea-parties’. [84]
The treatment of the body clearly had a specific socio-political dimension, that of
‘aestheticizing’ it. That dimension can also be detected in Greek ideological currents
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of the Inter-war years. In his attempt to create an ideal form of gymnastics as the
basis for modern dance which was based on ancient dance and which sought to
purify the body, Raymond Duncan at first copied, as we noted above, the poses
shown on ancient pottery. However, when he abandoned his study of pottery for a
while and travelled to Epirus, he saw that the bodies of the shepherds stood out ‘for
their amazing movement’, not when they danced but when they were simply
climbing the mountains. When he then went on to deal with Greek labourers and
farmers he realized that their movements when they worked ‘utterly resembled those
which are depicted on the pottery’. [85] Similarly, Palmer-Sikelianos started early on
to categorically reject the off-the-peg clothing industry. [86] When she first came to
Greece, she settled with the vegetarian Duncans in the sui generis American
‘commune’ in Kopanas, near Athens, living there in ‘ancient Greek style’; [87] and
some time thereafter the body of a Greek fisherman who used harpoons to fish in the
islet of St Nicolas, Lefkada, reminded her of Poseidon since he portrayed a
‘movement older than Greek art’. [88] Precisely this experiment, to ‘resurrect’ the
ancient Greek bodies, later materialized into the bodies of the tragic chorus members
of the Delphic performances dressed in loom-woven clothes. It is illustrative that at
first Palmer-Sikelianos had thought of selecting ‘either middle class girls or village
girls’ for the chorus of Oceanides. However, the latter, despite being ‘beautiful in
their simplicity’, were finally rejected since were not evenly tanned to be able to wear
the ancient costumes; and ‘the result would not have been pretty – because the face
would have been a different colour from the arms, and the neck another colour’. In
the end she chose girls from the Lyceum of Greek Women who came from families of
the Athenian elite although she was still hesitant about this. She was afraid that the
‘girls from the wealthy class’ were unsuitable because they had adopted Western
mores and customs, and did not represent ‘truly the elements which had been
preserved from ancient Greece’. [89] Similarly, Aestheticism compromised with the
taste and strict conservative morals of society amateur actresses affected the design of
the costumes used to dress the Danaids in the chorus of the Suppliant Women.
Relying on Egyptian monuments, Palmer-Sikelianos claimed that the Egyptian-style
dresses of the chorus ought to be transparent. However, she back down when faced
with the reactions of the mothers of the girls participating in the chorus. [90]
About the same time the ideology of ‘Ellinikotita’ (‘Greekness’) was closely
associated with that of ‘Laikotita’ (‘Folkness’) of Photis Kontoglou, Yannis
Tsarouchis and Karolos Koun (who dared to choose the actors for the Folk Stage
in 1933 from the working class). [91] However, as Palmer-Sikelianos said, ‘the
intelligentsia abroad admires and pays attention to Greece not because it resembles
abroad but precisely because of the difference that exists with Europe and the
similarity that exists with ancient Greece’. [92] This argument once again brought to
the fore the old interface, which existed since the nineteenth century, between Greek
‘folklore studies’ (Laographia) and antiquarian studies and the love of antiquity.
According to Greek ‘folklorists’, Greek folk culture existed as a cultural entity only in
its capacity as the bearer of and continuation of ancient Greek culture. Although the
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perception of ‘people’ within the Greek folklorist movement remained rather

unchanged along the lines expressed by nineteenth-century scholarship, at the same
time it was also clear that the Greek folk culture (and ‘Greekness’ as well) attracted
now the interest of a foreign, international audience. The traditional folk arts,
Byzantine music and village dances had been included in the directorial approach to
the tragic chorus not because Palmer-Sikelianos treated them as artistic equivalents to
the ancient texts but because she considered them to be part of the heritage of ancient
Greek culture. For that reason the artistic basis of the chorus was fixated on archaic
pottery, the Greek folk dance conventions were confined to just six verses, and the
‘Lenten’ music of Psachos instead of traditional music was used. Folk culture was not
treated as a functional and artistically self-sufficient system of values but only with
the awe and respect of an ark which had preserved the ancient Greek culture; and of
course as a means of internationally promoting Greece. In that sense, one can detect
in these developments the origins of the post-war exploitation of ancient Greek
theatre in connection with the growth of mass tourism (which was encouraged as a
substitute of ‘industry’ in this un-industrialized South-European country).
The neo-Romantic roots of Palmer-Sikelianos’ exploration of how to harmo-
niously blend poetry, dance and music into a single piece of art were in large part due
to the important shift in ideology about the continuity of Hellenism on stage from
the words of the text to the ‘poetry’ of the living body. This new correlation between
elements drawn from both the ancient Greek art and contemporary folk art,
articulated in the inclusion of the art of dance and the dancer’s body in modern
Greek ideological and artistic tradition, opened up new paths towards staging ancient
drama in the inter-war years and the decades thereafter. No matter how much the
directorial approach was a rearguard of the European Neo-Romanticism of the start
of the century, by Greek standards it had managed to change the landscape when it
came to the issue of revival. Perhaps Palmer-Sikelianos’ greatest contribution to the
revival of ancient theatre in Greece was related to this difficult area of the
presentation of the tragic chorus on stage.
On the other hand, it was unavoidable that the same developments in Greece took
into account Western developments in the field of dance; an art form which had
entered the modern age in Europe and the United States via its exposure to the
Symbolist environment. Besides Duncan’s achievements, it is perhaps sufficient to
mention the theoretical views of Stéphane Mallarmé on dance or Edward Gordon
Craig’s famous words: ‘the father of the dramatist was the dancer’. [93] To be sure,
the possible influences of Indian dance, from the Indian dancer and friend of the
couple, Kourshed Naoroji, must also be mentioned. They spent the summer of 1924
together and she danced and sang at their home in Sykia. [94] However, it is a fact
that there was really no intention to experiment with a modern directorial
interpretation based on the analogies between the traditional and anti-realistic
theatrical conventions of the ancient Greek tragic chorus and the equally non-realistic
artistic conventions of the Greek folk music/dance tradition. Viewed from this
perspective, the endeavour simply sought to cultivate an extreme Aestheticism which
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was responsible for some very serious contradictions. It is only from this standpoint
that we can interpret the fact that the tragic chorus of the Delphic performances
disdained the ancient text; that it was based on an arbitrary transformation of archaic
artistic conventions into choric conventions, as well as a transformation of traditional
folk-dance conventions into artistic conventions; or even that the director rejected
the village girls because of their suntan, and used silk to weave the costumes on a
loom. Moreover, Palmer-Sikelianos’ main purpose was not even dance or theatre-
related. She noted flatly in 1925: ‘I repeat that my objective is not primarily to play
Aeschylus’ Prometheus but to take an unwavering decision to show that the centuries
old elements of Greek culture are still alive’. [95] The much-vaunted revival of the
tragic chorus was attempted by amateurs, led by an enthusiastic ‘noble ideologue’;
[96] by people who had not developed serious relations with either the theatre or the
art of dance. That is all the more true for Angelos Sikelianos, the person who inspired
the Delphic Idea and stressed its non-theatrical character. Even the choice of
Prometheus Bound was made because of the play’s relationship with the myth of
Iapetus; in other words it served the ideal of an ecumenical renaissance. In reality, it
related to a new, more spiritual resurrection of the Modern Greek nationalism of the
nineteenth century in the Inter-war years, a re-definition of the Hellenic-Christian
ideal and its re-affirmation as a key component of Greek ideology. [97] Behind that
amateurism was a well-hidden fear of the threat of ‘decadent’ modernism; that is, the
fear that the entire issue would end up as a theatrical and dance event, ‘the risk of
making the Drama a simple theatrical performance’; or as Eva put it in 1930 after the
Delphic Festival to the then Minister of Culture ‘I am not a ballet-master’. [98]
Apparently, this was another attempt of ideological formulation of Greek elite. The
criticism in the professional modern Greek theatre of the era, as well as the Greek
upper-class reaction to mass sport, constitute clearly a continuity with the ideals of a
native amateurism as a vehicle for the social distinction of elite from the middle
classes. [99]
The fact that the Delphic performances were a major society happening is one
aspect which has been overlooked. Researchers are often in the awkward position of
collecting information about the chorus and preparations for it from the society
columns of the daily press. Readers of this paper need to take into account that all the
cream of Athenian society had been involved into these events and that, under
normal circumstances, the spectators in the audience (when not foreigners, scholars
and journalists) were members of the capital’s ‘high’ society. [100] The handling of
the ancient chorus in the difficult to comprehend theoretical texts of the artistic
Sikelianos couple and in the orchestra of the ancient theatre undoubtedly entailed a
dialogue between Neo-Romanticism, the requirements of ‘Greekness’ and authentic
folk art. However, in the final analysis that was something completely compatible
with the fact that in the mind of Athens ‘society’ and the readers of newspapers of the
time, the artistic and ideological factors at play also included the talents of the then
famous Greek beauty queen and Miss Europe, Aliki Diplarakou. Her presence at
Delphi, as was expected, drew much attention. If one is to believe the artistic gossip of
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the time, before leaving for the European competition Diplarakou had promised to
take part in the chorus and had learned the requisite 500 movements, but winning the
prize meant she had to cancel her participation in the performance. However, it did not
prevent her from turning up one day in traditional Macedonian costume and the next
day in an Oceanides costume. In this way, she managed to give to several people the
impression that she had been ‘broken off from some masterly ancient relief’. Her
obligations towards the Miss Europe contest did not stop her either from dancing ‘first
the Greek dance with the fustanella-wearing villagers at Psila Alonia’. [101] It was also
an opportunity for certain theories to be formulated about the relationship between the
Greek pedigree and the female body in conjunction with US off-the-peg fashion of the
day. The title of a relevant newspaper article speaks volumes: ‘Eternal Greek beauty.
Delphi, Miss Greece 1930 and the Revival of Antiquity’. [102]
Acknowledgements
This paper is based on my two previous works published in Greek (Glytzouris 1998
and 2002), although these are strongly revised and augmented here and, at the same
time, a more composite approach to the question is attempted. I would also like to
thank Eleni Fournaraki and Zinon Papakonstantinou for their useful comments.
Notes
[1] Sikelianos, Pezos Logos, vol. II, passim.
[2] Sideris, To arhaio theatro, 320–62.
[3] Ibid., 405–26.
[4] Leontis, ‘Mediterranean Theoria’, 103.
[5] ‘Palmer-Sikelianos, Eva. ‘I Ellas odigitis tis Anthropotitos’.
[6] Excerpts from Palmer-Sikelianos’ application are cited by Papadaki, To ephiviko protypo,
112–3.
[7] Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 110.
[8] Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 149. For the vision of the ancient athlete in terms of the
relationship between the concept of ‘health’ and the European fin-de-siècle Decadence, see
Glytzouris, ‘Parakmi, mystikismos kai oi nekrofaneies tis ellinikis ratsas. O Asklepios toy
Angelou Sikelianou’. See also Papadaki, To ephiviko protypo kai I delphiki prospatheia tou
Angeloy Sikelianou, 51, 78–79, 113. For Chrysafis’ views see also Koulouri’s contribution in
this volume.
[9] Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 111, 183.
[10] Eva Sikelianos, ‘Eisigisis eis ton Promithea’ [Introduction to Prometheus], Vradyni, 12 Jan.
1925.
[11] Up until 1902 when she came to Europe, she took part in few student performances and
recitations at US colleges. Between 1902 and 1906 she had two unsuccessful attempts at
taking to the stage professionally in London and Paris. During the same period, she
associated with Neo-romantic artists in Paris and appeared in a few amateur performances
which were dominated by an extreme Aestheticism. See Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic,
35–43, 105–6; Papadaki, Grammata tis Evas Palmer-Sikelianou sti Natalie Clifford Barney,
15–19; Papadaki, L’Interprétation de l’antiquité en Grèce moderne, 50–54. From 1907 to 1927,
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when she lived primarily in Greece, she appeared only once more on stage, which was in
Paris in 1911, where she played the role of Hrysothemis in Sophocles’ Electra in a
performance organized by Raymond Duncan and Penelope Sikelianos-Duncan (see note 55
below).
[12] Palmer-Sikelianos’ knowledge of traditional Greek music and the loom began in around
1904 in Paris, and was probably introduced to her by the Duncan couple. Her knowledge was
later enriched and systematized in Greece. She attended music lessons with Psachos on an
amateur basis from 1908 and more systematically after 1915. See Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward
Panic, 93–94; Dragoumis, ‘Konstantinos A. Psachos’, 311–12. Finally, Sikelianos, Epistoles tis
Evas Palmer-Sikelianou gia to arhaio drama is exceptionally useful for her views on the revival
of ancient tragedy after 1933.
[13] Eva Sikelianos, ‘I mousiki eis to arhaion drama’ [Music in the Ancient Drama], Eleftheron
Vima, 5 Oct. 1931, Palmer-Sikelianos, Treis Dialexeis, 55, 58–59, ‘Prokirixi mousikou
diagonismou gia tin melopoiesi ton horikon tis tragodias Iketides toy Aeschylou’ [Notice of a
musical contest to set to music the chorus for the tragedy Suppliant Women by Aeschylus],
Proı́a, 18 Jan. 1928, Sikelianos, ‘Ti einai megalo theatro?’, 39, Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward
Panic, 105–6, 188–90.
[14] She was thrilled when Suppliant Women was chosen for the second festival, not only because
dance had a leading role, but because it was considered to be the oldest remaining tragedy.
She noted that she would have been even happier if academics uncovered a work by
Ferekydes, Pratinas or Thespis (Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 129–30). Tsarouchis later
recalled that ‘she did not love Euripides, except for the Bacchae, which she considered an
Aeschylean work. Finally, she considered Sophocles work to be merely good theatre, always
below Aeschylus’ (‘Tha borousa na grapso selides ateleiotes gia tin Eva Sikelianou’, 234).
[15] Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 106–7, 113–4. For an example of academic approach to
the staged revival of the ancient chorus in Suppliant Women and Prometheus Bound, see
Webster, The Greek Chorus, 122–5, 130.
[16] Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 186–7. For the German expressionist dance and its
transcription in Greece as an ‘authentic’ model of the reborn ‘Greek’ dance, see Hasioti,
‘Politiki kai koinoniki diastasi tis shesis horou kai theatrou apo ton Mesopolemo mehri ta
prota Metemfyliaka hronia’, 509–20.
[17] Palmer-Sikelianos, Treis Dialexeis, 7.
[18] See, for example, Daly, ‘Isadora Duncan’s Dance Theory’, 24–31 and Daly, Done into Dance,
23–87. Her views had been translated with great speed into Greek. For example, lengthy
excerpts from her ‘manifesto’, The Dance of the Future (1903), were translated by G.
Varounis and published in Panathinaia (D0 , 15 Oct. 1903, 6–7).
[20] ‘We wanted to show’, wrote Eva probably at 1928/9, ‘that the chorus was not only the centre
of the ancient drama and a reason for its existence, but also that the trend in modern art
gropes along to rediscover the perfect form in the art, which the Greek race – or at least a
part of this – had preserved the elements of’ ([Palmer-] Sikelianos, ‘I tragodia kata
Sikelianon’, 67–68).
[21] See, for example, Kyriakidou-Nestoros, I theoria tis ellinikis laografias, 89–97, 148–85.
[22] Palmer-Sikelianos, Treis Dialexeis, 57–60.
[23] As well as weaving with a loom, Sikelianos had also learned the method of copying from
ancient pottery and sculptures from Raymond Duncan, who used them for his sister’s dances
(Duncan, My Life, 54, 65–66, Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 49–56).
[25] In addition, music was the only substantial resource available to Palmer-Sikelianos for the
revival of dance. Her husband’s proposal that she take over the choreography for Prometheus
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Bound in 1924 certainly surprised her, and initially she responded as if it were ‘an application
of Greek music to drama’. For her views, see her article ‘I elliniki mousiki’ [Greek Music],
Philotechnos (Volou), I’, May 1927, 277–8.
[26] Palmer-Sikelianos, Treis Dialexeis, 69–71).
[27] Eva Sikelianos, ‘I idrysis sholis ellinikis mousikis’ [The Establishment of the School of Greek
Music], Vradyni, 3 July 1930.
[29] Ibid., 107–8.
[30] See interviews with the composer in the newspaper Vradyni, 5 May 1927 and 19 May 1930.
[31] The Broader collaboration between Palmer-Sikelianos and the Lyceum, merits special
research. See also Fournaraki, present volume, note 88. Initially, there was an idea of teaching
the girls in the chorus the Byzantine musical notation so that they could learn to read the
music of Psachos. At the same time, visits would begin to the National Archaeological
Museum so they could develop a new type of gymnastics through studying the pottery.
However, the girls seem to be bored and so, after only a few meetings, Palmer-Sikelianos
abandoned the attempts (Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 109; Pratsika, ‘Anamniseis apo
tis protes Delphices Yortes toy 1972’, 127–9).
[32] Pratsika, ‘Anamniseis apo tis protes Delphices Yortes toy 1927’, 126–7, Mavrommatis, Bella
Raftopoulou, passim. A few unsigned sketches from pottery have also been preserved in the
Historic Archive of the Benaki Museum (Athens). Raftopoulou was present at the Delphic
Festivals (Mavrommatis, Bella Raftopoulou, 40 and Bouketo, 29 May 1930, 531), whilst her
sisters were part of the chorus of the Oceanides.
[33] A number of sketches by Raftopoulou for Prometheus Bound were found in the Melpo and
Octave Merlier Archive at the Centre for Asia Minor Studies (Athens). Above each figure was
the word or phrase from the verse which it represented. The correlation of course took place
with a reasonable amount of arbitrariness. For example, a sketch which presents two figures
with the explanatory note ‘lamentation’ which was used for ‘I lament’ of line 397 of
Prometheus could also have been used in any other passage of tragedy where the same word
or a derivative of this comes up. There is, for example, a copy from a vessel in the Benaki
Museum which depicts Hercules bent over to lift up the Earth, from the mythological event
with Atlas. Two variants of the same sketch were used to illustrate two different phrases in
the verses of different tragedies. The first, in the Centre for Asia Minor Studies, was to render
line 429 of Prometheus (‘which always the weight of the Earth’ in I. Gryparis’ translation).
The second, in the Mavrommati edition (142), accompanies line 475 of Antigone.
[34] Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 109, Margariti ‘Delphikes Yortes’, Pratsika, ‘Anamniseis
apo tis protes Delphices Yortes toy 1927’, 126. The general auditions and the final selection
of the 14 girls for the chorus took place on 29 March 1927 at the large society meeting place
of the time, ‘Délices’ (see letter from the management of the ‘Délices’ to Palmer-Sikelianos
dated 23 March 1927 at the Historic Archive of the Benaki Museum and ‘The Society Card’,
Vradyni, 30 March 1927). For Suppliant Women, chorus rehearsals began at the end of 1929
at the Archaeological Society and at Atelier, see Eleftheron Vima, 7 May 1930.
[35] The manuscript was probably compiled by Raftopoulou as a kind of memo, or as a guide to
the positions and movements of the chorus in the orchestra, and is probably the first
choreography notebook for a tragedy performance in the history of Modern Greek theatre. It
has 27 pages and is available in photographic format at the Merlier Archive. It was located
and published for the first time by Mavrommatis (Bella Raftopoulou, 42–59). The notebook
covers the parodos (apart from verses 128–35, 182) and the stasima, and has been preserved
almost complete. The choreography for verses 184–5 of the parodos, 559–60 of the second
Act and 900–6 of the third Act has been lost (or has not been photographed). For the
remaining parts, the choreography guide is accompanied by another single-page manuscript
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by Raftopoulou, which gives very general indications as to approximately how the chorus
should react to the episodes. Concerning the choreography notebook, Raftopoulou initially
wrote out the verses of the Chorus clearly, using the Gryparis’ translation, leaving the lower part
of the page blank to sketch small figures which indicated the postures of the chorus. Below the
figures she noted the steps each dancer must perform and, next to these, explanations and
clarifications of the posture they must make with their bodies. In addition, there are notes and
sketches in the border, relating to the groupings and arrangement of the chorus in the orchestra,
although there is no mention anywhere of the relationship between the dance and the music.
[36] Pantomimic expression is a demonstrative approach where the word is a person (towards the
rock in Prometheus, towards the place from which the actress playing Io left, towards the skies
of the ‘gods’) or part of the body (the chorus shows the heart, eyes, mind, etc. the
corresponding parts of its body). In other cases some characteristic movement is adopted, for
instance, when the word relates to an object (‘sharpened sword’, ‘knife’), or if it refers to an
abstract concept (with the hands tied behind and ‘sitting on the pelvis’ or ‘bound by chains’,
mimicking someone who lifts a weight for ‘labourer’, or lying down for the ‘bridal bed’, etc.).
[37] The journalist Sotos Petras calculated the movements of the chorus in Suppliant Women at
500 (Vradyni, 2 May 1930).
[38] For example, three continuous steps were used to render ‘footsteps’, or six continuous steps,
with hands in an offering position, was noted to render the meaning of a sacrificial offering.
[39] For this subject, see Lambrinos, ‘I kinimatographisi ton Delfikon Yorton’, 135–44 and
Glytzouris ‘I kinimatografiki eikona os pigi tis istorias toy neoellinikoy theatroy’, passim.
From the first shot, when the chorus is shown moving slowly and rhythmically in the
orchestra, one can determine the flawless coordination of movements and the stylization
which had so impressed critics at the time. Furthermore, even when the shots show the
chorus divided into four groups, it moves in serpentine shapes. The young ladies of the
chorus, in their attempt to bring alive the images from ancient pottery with the head ‘de
profile’ and the body ‘en face’, created an enormous range of shapes which unfolded, in
meandering fashion, one after another. This ‘Art Nouveau’ arrangement of the chorus
certainly continued even after the departure of Hermes, when a human ‘ribbon’ was created
on the pathway on the rock. The ‘ribbon’ started at the crucified Prometheus at the top, and
‘winds’ down the mountain to reach its base. The chorus, always with the body ‘en face’ and
the head ‘de profile’, walks with difficultly along the pathway of the artificial ‘mountain’
and then they quickly depart before the spectacular finale.
[40] Eleftheron Vima, 23 May 1927.
[41] Y. Miliades, Simera, 7, July 1933, 217, Vradyni, 6 May 1930, Ach. Mamakis, Ethnos, 2 May
1930, K. Ouranis, Eleftheron Vima, 3 May 1930, and others.
[42] ‘Focused on the verse and the movement, the song, the stance, rolling and unrolling like living
scrolls of papyrus. The same Egyptian sculptures from tombs or obelisks, coming together and
separating, they make rivers or tall palms with their hands blowing in the wind like branches’
(Eleftheron Vima, 26 April 1930). ‘But even if they wanted it to be so schematized on purpose,
the chorus was so stylized’, complained Sophia Mavroeidi, ‘let us at least react more to the
meaning of the whole attitude of the work and less to each phrase [. . .]. It ended up as a joke
and not at all interesting. So you followed the parodos – and many went – and later you lost all
interest. You know that the mountain will be depicted by a high curve, the sea by a wave of the
hands, birds by a flapping, the path of a river with a touch below the feet and the famous
Aphrodite with a touch of the ear and reflection’ (Elliniki Epitheorisis, 271, June 1930, 102).
[43] The ‘resurrection’ of the Delphic landscape could ‘magically’ influence the revival of ancient
drama but, in the end, it probably impeded the artistic experiment. In any case, it is a very
important part of the Delphic performances that must, however, form the subject of another
paper.
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[44] ‘The chorus took back the place which, in all likelihood, had before: the first’, Alkis Thrilos
told Nea Estia on 1 June 1927 (Thrylos, To neoelliniko theatro, 47). ‘For the first time we
witnessed a performance of an ancient tragedy in the fullness of its elements, the speech, the
music and the dance. It was truly something novel’ (Y. Miliades, Simera, 7, July 1933, 185).
‘It made us wonder how we could for so many generations have endured [ancient] theatre
without the chorus which, singing and dancing and acting as an intermediary between the
characters in the drama and us spectators’, remarked F. Dragoumis (Peitharhia, 31, 18 May
1930, 25). While Keramopoulos admitted: ‘I am not ashamed to say that at Delphi I
understood well why the ancient Greeks classified dance among the fine arts’ (Eleftheron
Vima, 23 May 1927).
[45] Glytzouris, I skinothetiki tehni stin Ellada, 253–61.
[46] Ibid., 493–94.
[47] ‘I would have liked to try it’, proposed Keramopoulos despite all this, ‘at least in part, with
more intense songs of the dancers, so that the feeling of the spectators would not have been
focused only on the music and formation of the dances, but also on the meaning of the
poet’s best verses. It seems to me that for the spectators, those who did not know Prometheus
from their studies, or did not know the Greek language, the poet is discerned less than the
music, while both must be honoured equally’ (Eleftheron Vima, 23 May 1927). Thrylos, on
the other hand, also remarked that the chorus ‘did not express the words’, which ‘did not
sound like words, but just like sounds’. Nevertheless, he considered that, in this way, the
chorus expressed the ‘mood’ and the ‘musical atmosphere’ and thus ‘Prometheus was reborn
as a musical drama’ (Thrylos, To neoelliniko theatro, 46–47).
[48] Vasilis Rotas, for example, reported that the chorus ‘entering, danced a clear syrtos’ and then
took stylized poses – supporting, certainly, the fact that the chorus should be arranged by a
professional choreographer ‘to a motif from modern Greek dances (syrtos, tsamikos,
pentozalis, trata, etc.), which were also danced with the head and legs ‘‘de profile’’ and the
chest ‘‘en face’’’ (Ellinika Grammata, 127–34). Tsarouchis was recalling that Palmer-
Sikelianos copied positions from pottery and ‘combined them together either with simple
footwork, or with the rhythm of the balos or of the syrtos’ (‘Tha borousa na grapso selides
ateleiotes gia tin Eva Sikelianou’, 233). Kakouri, who played Io, reported that ‘in the folk-
dance song, Eva and some of her specialized associates requested support for the rendition of
the dances in the Aeschylean tragedy’ (‘Oi Delfikes Yortes’, 869).
[49] Veloudios,‘Epitideigmi Pyrrihiou eis 9/8’, 125.
[50] Tsarouchis, ‘Tha borousa na grapso selides ateleiotes gia tin Eva Sikelianou’, 234. Yagkaki
interpreted the solos of verses 143–51 and 277–83 (Eleftheron Vima, 23 May 1927) and
appeared a few weeks later as Azucena in Trovatore (Vradyni, 26 April 1927, 4 June 1927).
The truth is that Palmer-Sikelianos did not want an orchestra but a chorus acting of its own
volition, the leader of which would play the flute. Later she considered it a personal error
that she had deferred to Psachos, who had written music for an orchestra. Therefore, for the
performance of Suppliant Women, she took the initiative to get rid of half of the instruments
the composition required, and to place a small orchestra of two harps and a few wind
instruments in the recess of the theatre, in front of the first of the spectators’ seats. (See ‘I
mousiki eis to arhaion drama’ [Music in the Ancient Drama] and ‘Arhaio drama kai
mousiki’ [Ancient Drama and Music], Eleftheron Vima, 5 and 24 Oct. 1931; and Palmer-
Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 115–6.
[51] Pratsika, ‘Anamniseis apo tis protes Delphices Yortes toy 1927’, 126.
[53] Sidonie Gabrielle Colette remembered Palmer playing Pierre Louÿs’ Dialogue au soleil
couchant with her at the start of the century, wearing ‘a Greek chiton of blue-green, while I
thought myself a perfect Daphne thanks to a crêpe de Chine the colour of the ground’. In
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June 1906, Eva played the part of Timas alongside Penelope Sikelianos-Duncan playing
Sappho in Natalie Clifford Barney’s two-act work Équivoque (Papadaki, Grammata tis Evas
Palmer-Sikelianou sti Natalie Clifford Barney, 13–22 and Palmer-Sikelianos Upward Panic,
43).
[54] Ibid., 108–9.
[55] Hand-woven fabric had already been used in 1911 in performances of Electra in the original
which was organized by Raymond Duncan (see note 3 above). In the above performances
appeared actors of the former ‘Nea Skini’ [New Stage] (1901–06) which had been founded
and directed by Konstantinos Christomanos, a major exponent of Aestheticism in modern
Greek theatre (Angelos Sikelianos had also appeared as actor in this troupe in 1901). Other
actors involved with this troupe were Eleni Pasagianni and Dionysios Devaris (later the
cofounder, together with Karolos Koun and Yannis Tsarouchis, of the ‘Laiki Skini’ [Folk
Stage]). See Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 55, and the memoirs of Raymond Duncan in
the periodical Kainouria Epohi, Summer 1957, 19.
[56] Kakouri, ‘Oi Delfikes Yortes’, 870.
[57] See also the laudatory critique ‘Costume in Revivals of Greek Drama’, Bulletin of the
Metropolitan Museum of Art, XXXI, 6 June 1936, New York, 134–5. Two years later, Palmer-
Sikelianos gave a lecture at the Museum of Costume Art in New York on the subject of
‘Ancient Greek Costume. Draping and Fabric’ (see Papadaki, Grammata tis Evas Palmer-
Sikelianou sti Natalie Clifford Barney, 340).
[58] ‘I Ka Sikelianou omilei dia tin ellinikin moda. H epivoli tou ellinikou rythmou’ [Mrs Sikelianos
Speaks about Greek Fashion. The Imposition of the Greek Style] and ‘I Ka Sikelianou synehizei
tas skepseis tis dia tin ellinikin viotehnian’ [Mrs Sikelianos Continues her Thoughts on Greek
Industry], Vradyni, 25 and 26 June 1930. See also her earlier discourse ‘I moda stin Ellada’
[Fashion in Greece] in Sikelianos Treis dialexeis, as well as Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic:
47–48, 75–80, 85–86, 141–42. It is worth noting the ideological coherence between Palmer-
Sikelianos’ views and the views of Callirhoe Parren, President of the Lyceum of Greek Women,
which since its foundation in 1911 had made the preservation and promotion of Greek
women’s folk art one of its major objectives. Since 1921 the Lyceum of Greek Women
organised women’s art and craft exhibitions; see the information and documents published in
Eleni Bobou-Protopapa, To Lykeion ton Ellinidon, 1911–91, passim and especially C. Parren’s
speech (128–31) at the inauguration of the first Lyceum exhibition of this kind in 1921. Eva
Palmer-Sikelianos, a member of the Lyceum at that time, participated with her work in the
1921 exhibition and was especially praised by Parren.
[59] Sideris, To arhaio elliniko theatro sti nea elliniki skini, 139, 164. V. Vekiarellis, an ardent
supporter of the Delphic idea, urged the Sikelianos couple to use Sakellarides ‘for his
extremely Greek music’ at the next Festival (Elefteros Typos, 22 May 1927).
[60] The first appearance was at the Municipal Theatre in Athens on 28 November 1903, and was
followed by two performances at the Royal Theatre on 11 and 15 December 1903. The event
took place at a time when the Duncan family had come, via Karvasara, on a ‘pilgrimage’ to
Greece, ‘our Mecca, which, for us, meant the splendor of perception’. The whole issue was
connected to Duncan’s short-lived experiments towards the historical continuity of ancient
music via the Byzantine tradition, a direction for which her brother and her sister-in-law,
Penelope Sikelianos, must have been responsible (Duncan, My Life, 120). The chorus from
Suppliant Women (part of a wider programme) displeased the Athenians of the time, even
those who were enthusiastic about the American dancer (Kimon Michailides, Panathinaia,
D’, 15 Dec. 1903, 150–2, Tim. Stathopoulos, Akropolis, 17 Dec. 1903, Estia, 12 Dec. 1903,
Ang. Evangelides, Embros, 12 Dec. 1903, Duncan, My Life, 118–9, 121–2, Leontis,
‘Mediterranean Theoria: A View from Delphi’, 107–9 and Puchner, ‘I Isadora Duncan kai
o ellinikos horos’, 87–92).
108

[61] Duncan, My Life, 122. For her trip to Greece, with excellent illustrations, see Duncan, et al.,
Life Into Art, 50–59.
[62] Duncan, My Life, 117–28 and Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 186. Here the subject is
certainly discussed superficially. Duncan’s visits to Greece in 1903 (when, amongst other
things, she took part in support of Mistriotis’ students in the violent events of the
Oresteiaka) as well as in 1912, 1915 and 1919 (when she founded a school of Ancient Dance
with the support of the Venizelos government) are highly significant for the subjects we are
examining and require specialized study.
[63] His troupe gave many performances of ancient tragedies in the United States and in Europe,
which were accompanied by folk songs sung by Penelope Duncan. At performances of
Electra and Alcestis, for instance, which were performed ‘in Ancient Greek’ in America,
Penelope sang at the end of the performances ‘Greek songs of the mountain’ and chanted
‘pieces of ecclesiastical music’ (Panathinaia, 28 Feb. 1903, 303).
[64] The couple came to Greece in 1927, at the invitation of Palmer-Sikelianos, to take part in the
Delphic Festival, and danced Apollo’s dance with the Python. See Sideris, To arhaio elliniko
theatro sti nea elliniki skini, 281, 286, 289, 290, 292, 293, 298, 312, 361 and Kanellos, I arhaia
elliniki orhesis kai I Isadora Dougkan, passim.
[65] There is a wealth of information which is exceptionally interesting, but piecemeal, and only a
systematic study of the Press at the time can provide results. The dancer Artemisia Kolona
appeared in Arniotes theatre in 1906. (Hadzipantazis, I athinaiki epitheorisi, 49). ‘Nausica’
danced ancient Greek dances in the revue Scating Ring (1909) by Timos Moraitinis (Sideris,
To arhaio elliniko theatro sti nea elliniki skini, 236, Hadzipantazis, Ibid., 49). Terpsichore
Thespis, of Hungarian descent, also studied the ‘representations on reliefs and pottery’ for
her dance compositions in around 1910 (Sideris, Ibid., 244). The Misses Victoros appeared
successfully at the Municipal Theatre of Athens in 1912 (Sideris, Ibid., 252). From 1926
onwards, the relevant records become more frequent (Sideris, Ibid., 313, 317–8, 321, 388,
426).
[66] Fuller did not fail to express her admiration for Greek folk dances (Sideris, ‘Kosmiki
erasitehnia kai theatro’, 37–38).
[67] For this matter see also Glytzouris, ‘I kinimatografiki eikona os pigi tis istorias toy
neoellinikou theatrou’, 139–56. The criticism of the period constrained the ideological
beginnings of the Delphic Endeavour to activities such as those of the Lyceum of Greek
Women, which was founded in the second decade of the century: ‘It must be recognised that
the Lyceum of Greek Women has opened the way for the revitalization of national holidays,
which bridges the higher, wondrous past of the race with the later and contemporary
developments in Greek culture’ (Eleftheros Typos, 14 May 1927). Some certainly reached the
point of seeing the celebrations at the Lyceum in 1927, ‘as a continuation of and
accompaniment to the Delphic Festival’ (Vradyni, 12 May 1927). In any case, let it be noted
that the first ‘performance’ (actually a parade) of the Oceanides contributed to the Lyceum’s
parade in the Panathenaic Stadium in 1926. See the letter on this matter from Sikelianos to
Raftopoulou dated 30 May 1926 (Merlier Archive, Centre for Asia Minor Studies) and the
article by Photos Politis in the newspaper Politeia, 21 June 1926 republished by Politis,
Epilogi kritikon arthron, 210–11. The festivals of the Lyceum were indeed designed as
complementary to the Delphic ones. This is corroborated by the Lyceum public notice and
press reports as well as by documents from the archives of the Greek Olympic Committee
that granted to the Lyceum the right to use the Stadium on 15 May 1926 (I owe this
information to Eleni Fournaraki); see Fournaraki, ‘Apo ti gymnastiki sto horo’ and her
contribution to the present volume.
[68] Angelos Sikelianos, ‘To Delphiko Panepistimio. Proshedio’ [1929] [The Delphic University.
Draft] and ‘To provlima tis mousikis kai tou horou sto arhaio drama’ [1931] [The Problem of
109

Music and the Chorus in Ancient Drama] in Sikelianos Pezos logos, B, 146–8, 309–21.
Sikelianos treated the Greek dances as being superior to the dances of other peoples, such as the
Mexicans or Cambodians, because the latter ‘only express unconscious ecstasy’ whilst the
Greek ‘expresses a morally instinctive and conscious convention’ which conceals ‘a deep
Apollonian competition’. The archetypical form of this competition, in Sikelianos’ view, was
found in the dramatic Greek dance of Python with Apollo, as an inherent struggle between
Doric and Dionysian music. This dance was presented by the Kanellos couple at the first
Delphic Festival.
[69] See Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 153–62, 171–4, 181–90, 65–66. Gabriel Boissy, student
of Joséphin Péladan and old acquaintance of Eva, who had organized outdoor theatre
performances, attended the Delphic Festival in 1927. The French scholar then discerned the
relationship clearly: ‘Through time and space, one can see in this triumphant revival of
Prometheus Bound at Delphi the logical continuity of all previous attempts’. Amongst others,
he refers to Wagner, Nietzsche, Edouard Schuré and Joséphin Péladan (‘O Promitheus
Desmotis epi tou vrahou ton Delfon’ [Prometheus Bound on the Rock at Delphi], Proı́a, 29
May 1927). Angelos Sikelianos also supported the ‘Teutonic’ theorists in the matter of the
revival, both before and after the Delphic Festivals. See his article ‘Ya ti didaskalia tis arhaias
tragodias’ [1937] [On the Teaching of Ancient Tragedy] in Sikelianos Pezos logos, C, 127–8 as
well as Papadaki, L’Interprétation de l’antiquité en Grèce moderne, 158, Papadaki, ‘I moda tis
anaviosis toy ypaithriou theatrou kai I Delphiki prospatheia’, 120.
[70] We know from her letter to Natalie Clifford Barney that on a short trip to America in 1905
she had a failed attempt to stage amateur performances of Swinburne’s tragedy Atalanta in
Calydon (1865), where she had placed particular emphasis on the chorus (Palmer-Sikelianos,
Upward Panic, 105–6, Papadaki, Grammata tis Evas Palmer-Sikelianou sti Natalie Clifford
Barney, 234–5).
[71] Papadaki, L’Interprétation de l’antiquité en Grèce moderne, and ‘I moda tis anaviosis toy
ypaithriou’, 114–5.
[72] For an introduction to the topic, see Cumming & Kaplan, The Arts and Crafts Movement,
102–3 and Coatts, A Weaver’s Life, passim.
[73] For the ideological relationships between the Delphic idea and K. Karavidas, see Papadaki,
L’Interprétation de l’antiquité en Grèce moderne, 212. On Karavidas’ fascist theories see
Hadziiossif, I giraia selini, 344–6.
[74] Sikelianos, Pezos logos, vol. II, 163–73. Angelos Sikelianos claimed that the country’s crisis
commenced after the destruction of the Greek communities by the Bavarians of King Otto in
the middle of nineteenth century; since ‘then Greece is the spoils of all the mistakes of
Modern Greek parliamentarianism’. He promoted the idea of reviving interest in
‘communalism’ after the establishment of a group (‘phalanx’) of ‘studious and determined
youth’ who, in free translation, ‘overcoming all the apprehensions of contemporary passive
Greek youth and of the academic mentality, would shake from off her the rags of hesitancy’.
This new generation must fulfil its highest mission ‘not only as Greeks, but as a universal
Race’ based on combined will. In his article ‘The Intellectual Basis of the Delphic Endeavour’
(67–118), referring to researchers such as Werner Sombart, he praised the Aryan mentality
and bravery against Semitic ideology, capitalism, the bourgeoisie and even Lenin, who
‘jumped into the saddle of the scrawny Semitic theory of Marx’ (89–91); but even in 1936,
Sikelianos contacted the ‘4 August’ regime, asking it to preserve the Delphic Idea since, he
believed, ‘it contains the heart of the genuine Doric essence: Intellectual prowess!’ (413–29).
[75] See Kremmydas, ‘O ideologikos kosmos toy Angeloy Sikelianoy’, 16–17. For the Anti-
Enlightenment tradition, see Sternhell, Les anti-Lumières, passim. For the ideological
connection to the views of Sombart and Action française, see Papadaki, L’Interprétation de
l’antiquité en Grèce moderne, 112, 145. Of course, in any case, Angelos Sikelianos’
110

relationship with the abovementioned reactionary ideologies should not lead us to stigmatize
him as a Modern Greek advocate of fascistic ideological behaviour. As mentioned by Nikos
Svoronos, whilst Sikelianos developed his ideological views within ‘a complex of ideas which
became, rightfully or not, the ideology of the European fascists’ for specific historical reasons
Sikelianos was not led ‘down the same path’ (Svoronos, ‘Protaseis gia ti meleti tis ideologias
toy Sikelianou’, 429–30). On the other hand, one cannot ignore either his undisguised
antiparliamentarianism nor the influences of Saint-Yves d’ Alveydre, Joseph de Maistre,
Charles Maurras, Arthur de Gobineau, H. S. Chamberlain, etc. In short, the whole question
requires neither accusations nor silencing. It simply requires investigation.
[76] Palmer-Sikelianos’ initial wish was to present Prometheus in ancient Greek language.
However, she was persuaded to perform the Gryparis translation primarily because Angelos
wanted ‘to establish the fact that Greek is not a dead, but a living language’ (Palmer-
Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 108). Note too that the performance of Electra in Paris (1911) had
been in the original ancient Greek (see notes 10 and 55).
[77] It is no coincidence that one of the defenders of the Delphic Idea and the views of Duncan on
Greek dance was Demosthenes Danielides, who adopted a geopolitical conception of
Modern Greek society. See Danielides, ‘Sti mnimi tis Evas Sikelianou’, 16–7 and Papadaki,
L’Interprétation de l’antiquité en Grèce moderne, 211, Tziovas, Oi metamorphoseis tou
ethnismou, 75–9, Hadziiossif, I giraia selini, 346.
[78] Illustrative of the international appeal of the Delphic endeavour were the papers presented by
Palmer-Sikelanos at international conferences such as the 29th Colloquium of the American
Archaeological Society at the University of Cincinnati (see American Journal of Archaeology,
2nd series, 1928, XXXII, 1, 63) and the publication of her views in famous art journals of the
time (see ‘A Lecture on the Greek Tragic Chorus’, Bulletin of the Metropolitan Museum of Art,
XXII, 11 Nov. 1927, 282). See too the appreciative comments made by Bieber in her
monumental work (Bieber, The History of the Greek and Roman Theater, 261–2).
[79] Duncan, My Life, 118–9.
[80] For Von Oftendhal see Akropolis, 3, 4 Nov. 1905 and 5 Feb. 1906. For Alden see Veinoglou,
‘O Chimairokynigos toy Mississippi’, 843–50. At this point it is important to mention the
praise from the unknown to us Fellow of the American Archaeological Society for the music
written by Sakellarides for Mistriotis’ production of Electra (Sideris 1976: 136–9).
[81] This important in the history of American theatre couple was particularly active in Greece
from 1921 to 1924, but a separate paper would be necessary to adequately cover their
contribution. However, it is important to note here that they were the first to envisage
performances at the ancient theatre of Delphi. Cook had written a trilogy set in Ancient
Greece and in 1893 where the action was interrupted by dances and songs. He planned to
stage these works with villagers and the Roumeli shepherd, Elias Skarmouches, as the lead
actor at the ancient theatre of Delphi. On Cook’s career in America see Sarlós 1982. For the
American couple’s activities in Greece see Glaspell, ‘Last Days in Greece’, 31–49, Glaspell,
The Road to the Temple, Cook, My Road to India and Gainor, Susan Glaspell in Context.
[82] Cook spent the last years of his life wearing a fustanella along with the shepherds and villagers on
Mount Parnassus. At the same time he had developed a circle of admirers comprising Athenian
students (such as I. Sykoutres, I. Kakrides, K. Dimaras, Ang. Kalogeras, L. Pararas and others).
See Eleftheron Vima, 20 Jan. 1924, Vas. El[iades?], ‘Susan Glaspell’, Eleftheron Vima, 13 May
1930, Veinoglou, ‘O Chimairokynigos toy Mississippi’, 1093–1104, Pararas, ‘Ioannis Antiphon
Sykoutris, 144, ‘Angelos Sikelianos kai I Delphiki idea’, 1678–9. A book by Cook dedicated to
Palmer-Sikelianos can be found in the Sikelianos library, see Papadaki, ‘Ta evrethenta tis
vivliothikis ton Delphon toy Aggelou kai tis Evas Sikelianou’, entry 296 and Papadaki,
L’Interprétation de l’antiquité en Grèce moderne, 104. Certain Delphic events were dedicated to
Cook while his daughter, Nilla Cook-Proestopoulos was a member of the chorus of Oceanides.
111

[83] Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 59–60, 67–8, 87–92.

[84] Ibid., 75–6.
[85] Danielides, ‘Sti mnimi tis Evas Sikelianou’, 16–17.
[87] Ibid., 59.
[88] Ibid., 88.
[89] Eva Sikelianos, ‘Introduction to Prometheus’, Vradyni, 11 and 12 Jan. 1925. Tsarouchis’
memory of the matter is similar. ‘One day, listening to the village girls sing the chorus from
Prometheus which they had learned by secretly watching the rehearsals in the theatre, [Eva]
said, ‘‘the next time I won’t take Athens society girls for the chorus, but villagers from here.
They are better’’’ (‘Tha borousa na grapso selides ateleiotes gia tin Eva Sikelianou’, 234).
Pratsika mentions the same incident in her interview for Lakis Papastathis’ television
documentary Paraskinio (‘I anaviosi tou arhaiou dramatos’ [The Revival of Ancient Drama],
Hellenic Broadcasting Corporation, 1998). In any event, the society columns in the newspapers
of the time stressed the class background of the girls in the line-up of the Oceanides and
Danaides choruses: ‘they are all the very top girls, beautiful, educated and from good families’
(Vradyni, 26 April 1927).
[90] Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 131–2.
[91] See, for example, Hadjinicolaou, Ethiniki tehni kai protoporia, 36, 45 and on theatre,
Glytzouris, I skinothetiki tehni stin Ellada, 517–33.
[92] To be sure, she stressed the ‘satisfaction’ a Modern Greek ought to feel in relation to
foreigners. He/She felt obliged to call out: ‘Look gentlemen, we kept ancient music alive
across all those centuries’ (Palmer-Sikelianos, Treis dialexeis, 69–71).
[93] Edward Gordon Craig, ‘The Art of the Theatre. The First Dialogue’ (1905) in Walton, Craig
on Theatre, 53. On Mallarmé’s views on dance see, for example, Block, Mallarmé and the
Symbolist Drama, 93–6.
[94] Palmer-Sikelianos, Upward Panic, 98–99. Twenty-nine titles were counted in the Sikelianos
library relating to Indian culture (Papadaki, ‘Ta evrethenta tis vivliothikis ton Delphon toy
Aggelou kai tis Evas Sikelianou’). The letter of 6 September 1926 to Raftopoulou who was
then living in Paris (Merlier Archive) informs us that Eva Sikelianos was a member of the
association of Indian students in the French capital since 1924. In that letter, Sikelianos asked
her associate to find an Indian singer and someone who spoke Hindi because she wanted to
translate a guide about the celebrations to ‘make them better known in India in order to
show the ancient relationship between India and Greece. And that the impact on musical
sounds, customs and mores, etc. had been preserved to this very day’. It should be noted that
in Indian dance, the actor (following a completely different set of artistic conventions) is
called up to express himself using very specific, and strictly coded movements, stances and
gestures which create a parallel language of signs as complex as speech. The truth is, however,
that any further correlation must be considered rather risky. There is no evidence to show
that Palmer-Sikelianos correlated the ancient Greek dance with Indian dance, despite the
undisputed charm that traditional India exerted on her. For new valuable evidence and
comprehensive approach, see the recent article of Leontis ‘An American in Paris, a Parsi in
Athens’, 351–73.
[95] Eva Sikelianos , ‘Introduction to Prometheus’, Vradyni, 12 Jan. 1925.
[96] O Theatis, 4, 14 February 1925.
[97] Sikelianos, Pezos logos, E, 103–13.
[99] Perhaps a comparison with the ideals of sporting amateurism in Greece and the Olympic
movement of the time would be also appropriate, See Koulouri Athlitismos kai opseis tis
astikis koinonikotitas and her contribution to the present volume.
112

[100] ‘The audience included not just academics but well-known Athenian families. In fact, all the
cream of Athenian society had relocated to Delphi’ (Proı́a, 13 May 1930).
[101] Bouketo, 29 May 1930, 531, 23 Oct. 1930, 1053, S. Petras, Vradyni, 2 May 1930.
[102] Vradyni, 4 May 1930.
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116

Rallying the Nation: Sport and

Spectacle Serving the Greek
Dictatorships
Gonda Van Steen
This study offers brief soundings into the exploitation of sport by the Greek dictatorial
regimes, both the interwar dictatorship of 1936–1941 and the military regime of 1967–
1974. During those eras, sport provided templates of competition and combat. The most
recent dictatorship showcased sport along with a ‘canon’ of historical re-enactments in
massive open-air spectacles, which deserve further attention. The strongmen of both
regimes saw, in addition to communist threats, signs of decay in Greek society, and they
insisted on military-style discipline and orderliness. How then did their regimes approach
sport? Or rather, how did they manage to convey persuasive images of sport and of the
political propaganda behind it? This article addresses the above questions and
reconstructs the dictators’ excessive acts of stage-managing a mass theatre of
indoctrination through athletic events, military displays and historical re-enactments.
I argue that Greek dictatorial regimes allocated an important role to sport and bodily
culture to shore up their nationalist ‘mission’ and that, as a result, they militarized and
politicized the field. The essay pays brief attention also to the realm of pedagogy, because
those regimes wanted school instruction and discipline training to be conducted in a
‘patriotic’ and militaristic fashion.
I. Introduction
The Greek military regime of 1967–1974, or the regime of the Colonels who took
power in the coup of 21 April 1967, posited its supremacy over its leftist and
communist enemies as well as over its historical foes through mass events of sport
and spectacle. Historical re-enactments of Greek military victories through the ages
formed the spectacular accompaniment to the regime’s athletic and bodily displays.
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Both were expressions of the dictators’ dogmatic conception of ‘a healthy mind in a

healthy body’ (‘eurosto soma alkimos psyche’). [1] This study analyses the content and
rhetoric that produced and ‘authenticated’ these mass rituals of sport and spectacle.
Sport, spectacle and Greek history blended into one another during the seven-year-
long military junta, but they had their roots in the pre-WWII dictatorial regime of
Ioannes Metaxas, a bounteous admirer of fascist-style public discipline. In the spirit
of the times, Metaxas had strengthened his grip on power by exhibiting massive
youth groups engaged in athletic and military training exercises. The stadium that
housed the athletic and military events became the field where a battle was fought
over Greek history and culture, which were co-opted into the regimes’ secular rituals
and autocratic practices. This article begins with a detailed study of the twentieth-
century Greek dictators’ use of historical and theatrical underpinnings in their coarse
approach to sport – as political spectacle and spectacular politics. It then provides a
historical background to this exploitative use of sport and bodily culture, enriched
with brief observations on the Greek educational system. I am privileged to have
access to a rare source with which to document and illustrate the first part of this
article: the summary documentary of a day of public festivals in 1967. The
documentary was produced for Greek public television, which was, at the time, in a
stage of infancy.
One day at the Greek Television Archive in Athens I discovered and watched a 17-
minute-long summary documentary of the ‘Festivals of the Polemic Virtue of the
Greeks’, which were held in the late summer of 1967. I watched the tape many times,
first in disbelief, then in order to describe it in writing. But how does one record the
‘hyper-spectacles’ that the Greek dictators mounted? [2] And were these grandiose
but clumsy displays really meant to instil in their public patriotic pride in the Greek
tradition? While at the archive, I was given permission also to view and draw
comparisons with similar digests for television of the festivals of 1966 and 1972. The
synopsis of 1967 struck me as the most programmatic one and the most interesting
one to discuss: its subject was the festival that took place a mere four and a half
months after the military takeover; its nominal audience was a gathering of masses at
the ‘old’ Olympic Stadium but its notional audience was all of Greece. Because the
Colonels had to allay domestic and international frustration, they pulled out all the
stops for their first festival. As a result, the 1967 documentary of the festival in
question provides greater insights in how they constructed and exploited pageantry,
bodily culture and sport.
I argue that the junta festivals paraded ultra-nationalism as official patriotism
and that they laid out the regime’s desired models of training for power. Barrack-
style propaganda under the guise of edificatory goals loomed large in these festivals
as well. Even though these highly theatrical events left deep impressions on many of
my interviewees, who retained vivid memories (and negative emotions) about
them, scholarship has granted them hardly anything other than a few derogatory
remarks. [3] The Colonels rendered sport, history and politics theatrical in ways
that historians of Greece in the 1960s and 1970s have yet to explore, whereas the
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bibliography on these phenomena in other countries is substantial. [4] Broader

studies of how the Greek dictatorship thrived on appearances, propaganda and
slogans remain lacking. The Greek strongmen saw themselves as players acting out
a scripted historical mission by staging hyperbolic victory scenarios and
manipulating mass emotions through mass spectacles. They framed the parades
of athletes and troops by displays of military triumphs to present a scenario of
perennial Greek victory. My goal is to deconstruct the spectacles in question as
examples of the dictators’ conceptions of sport, Greek history, and nationalist
politics.
II. Playing It Up: Time, Space, Agents, Players, Audiences and Aims
The Colonels presented a sequence of athletic events and Greek military conquests as
part of huge annual festivals called ‘Festivals of the Polemic Virtue of the Greeks’, or,
in their conservative Kathareuousa idiom, Eortes polemikes aretes ton Hellenon. The
name flaunted the more aggressive term ‘polemic’, or ‘warlike’, rather than ‘military’
virtue. These festivals took place in late August or early September. However,
national holidays (28 October, or Ochi Day, and 25 March, or Independence Day)
and the regime’s anniversary date of 21 April delivered additional occasions for the
Colonels’ public celebrations and self-congratulatory speech making. [5] Otherwise,
the rulers typically scheduled their festivals on Sundays to make sure that many more
people were free to attend.
The junta festivals were held not only at specific times, but also in a special place,
where they followed a set trajectory. For a stage, the Colonels chose the ‘old’ Olympic
Stadium (i.e. the Panathenaic or Kallimarmaro Stadium) in downtown Athens, where
many mass events had been held before. The restored stadium (1896–1906) occupied
the site of its ancient predecessor. However, the Colonels and the Athenian public
made the more obvious connection with the first modern Olympics which were held
in 1896 in the very same venue. Thus young women dressed as Olympic flame bearers
were enlisted to enhance the junta festivals. The stadium was a locale that had the
aura of antiquity but that was also a monument to Greek rebirth, national pride and
international interest.
The regime’s leader, Georgios Papadopoulos, spared no expense to equip and
adorn the main track area of the stadium, which had to be visible by rows of
thousands on either side of the track. Papadopoulos was the strongman of a
triumvirate, which further consisted of Stylianos Pattakos and Nikos Makarezos. The
junta’s tyranny of presentation was also the tyranny’s self-deception, and sport played
a key role in the regime’s self-delusion. In the setting of the massive outdoor stadium,
the official festivals were a way for the regime to exhibit its ‘popularity’ and the
sought-after ‘public consensus’. Papadopoulos also mobilized large numbers of
soldiers as actors and extras, who had little choice but to deliver up the performance
required of them. Many of these recruits, however, stopped short of acting with
attention, let alone enthusiasm: they acted out the skits that they had rehearsed
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Figure 1. A parade float drives down the Panathenaic Stadium during the ‘Festival of the
Polemic Virtue of the Greeks’, Athens, 1967. Source: Katsigeras, Hellada 20os aionas, 286.
sometimes with visible discomfort or half-deliberate clumsiness. Metaxas had been

the first to regularly call on army recruits to fill the ranks of the many extras needed
in public spectacles. [6]
The turnout for the junta festivals tended to be huge. The newspapers publicized
the events well beforehand and announced that admission was free. They also
devoted a big spread to the festivals after they had occurred. The massive attendance,
however, was far from ‘spontaneous’, or ‘authormeto’ – one of the favourite words of
the coercive strongmen, who settled for the appearance of spontaneity in lieu of the
real thing. But the regime did have its outposts in the public. When the leadership
wanted an audience to show up en masse, its acolytes started applying varying degrees
of pressure from the top down. Many of the attendees were military cadres and units,
officials, civil servants, ‘time-servers’, factory workers, schoolteachers and school-
children. The junta placed not only Greece’s youth organizations but also its throngs
of school pupils under the watch of the army as the self-appointed guardian of
nationalist values. Most of the various groups of attendees knew or were reminded
that they had special obligations to fulfil to the state, especially if they were subject to
clientelistic ties as state employees. For the ‘invited’ members of government circles,
attendance at the festivals or other celebrations was, for all practical purposes,
mandatory. The threats of the regime’s recording, file-keeping and exacting sanctions
affected the decision of many civil servants to simply attend. [7] For those who would
not be convinced by the show of popular support in the stadium, there were the
shows of athletic and military strength. Prompt retaliation, however, would have
jeopardized the public standing of the Colonels, who tried hard to win legitimacy and
to avoid bad publicity. [8] For the dictators and their real-life supporters, well-
attended events, even if attended by a puppet crowd, generated tremendous
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propagandistic potential and patriotic brag value. Papadopoulos attempted not only
to affect the perceptions of foreign diplomats and governments but also to bring
investors and tourists – and thus vital financial resources – back to Greece. Vague but
dramatic promises of ‘free’ elections made matters worse, however: unfettered
elections did not take place; their lack exposed the absence of any real plan for
liberalization. Thus the junta’s athletic contests and re-enactments of Greece’s glory
days did not stand alone: they were part of a broad program of acts and events that
exhibited the muscle of the army’s manpower and (US-funded) equipment.
The Greek quasi-fascist histrionics had much in common with the theatrical
mechanisms of Mussolini’s fascist Italy and of Nazi Germany. [9] These two powers also
turned sport into an essential component of their ultra-nationalist – and racist –
interwar politics. The Italian fascists of the early 1930s had transformed the outdoor
athletic stadium into the ideal arena for sports events, political rallies and mass
choreographies. [10] Hitler, too, had exploited the connections between mass spectacles
and stadium settings of Olympic proportions: he had showcased German masculine
prowess and racial superiority at the 1936 Olympics, which were held in a giant stadium
in Berlin. [11] Overall, events of the late 1920s through the late 1930s underlined the
theatrical and nationalist uses of sport and bodily culture. Totalitarian regimes were
among the first to take advantage of the mass stage of bodily spectacles for their political
propaganda. The competitive sporting spectacles of the interwar period consisted of
exercises in disciplinary and military training in disguise, and they were typically
designed to bolster the power of regimes, parties or up-and-coming politicians.
Ritualized performance and nationalistic sport were also closely intertwined in Greek
sporting events and other mass festivals of the late 1930s. Metaxas was the most
important mediator in this process of influence, even though Greece was in no position
to follow Mussolini’s path of military expansion through his new fascist empire and its
‘strengthened’ Italian ‘race’. [12] The regime of the Colonels set the clock back on Greek
civic life and revamped the repressive antiliberal bias of the interwar years: the junta’s
mass propaganda through military and sports events exploited instead the well-trodden
theme of continuity and superiority of the Greek nation.
Compared to the massive scale and sophistication of Nazi spectacles, Metaxas’s
and later the Colonels’ manipulation of sport and the Olympic ethos for ultra-
nationalist purposes may look like kids’ play. Moreover, the doctrine of either the
paternalist Metaxas or the military dictators on treating enemies was merely touched,
not permeated, by the racist arguments for national superiority that had swayed
National Socialist Germany and fascist Italy. The Colonels remained, however,
implacably hostile to left-wingers and communists and delivered a second onslaught
of state anticommunism. The junta always proclaimed the army’s loyalty and fighting
capacity but it did not pursue imperialist goals. The dictators’ main objective, then,
was a more extensive appropriation of Greek sport and of the Greek past, much like
Mussolini’s use and abuse of ancient Rome. They were particularly interested in
Greek army victories from the glorious past and tied those ‘triumphs’ to militaristic
sports.
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III. What Happened in the Arena? Sporting Uniforms and Uniformity

Before I describe the content of the short documentary it needs to be stated that,
from an aesthetic point of view, the documentary has all the pretentions – but not the
quality – of a grand Hollywood epic of the 1960s: like a sword-and-sandals movie, it
projects male-physical supremacy and unconditional moral right. Technological
refinement was the area in which the producers of the digests of the following years
showed off advancement, because the content itself of the events that were filmed
remained relatively stable – or predictable – throughout the dictatorship years. For
example, beams of flashing light open the 1972 synopsis: they penetrate the dark sky
and light up the block letters of junta slogans and buzzwords. Firework displays
accentuate the ostentatious finale which is, invariably, a visual and verbal homage to
the ‘Revolution of 21 April 1967’. Papadopoulos unabashedly positioned both the
athletic events and the historical re-enactments of the festivals against the spectacular
backdrop of his ‘regenerative Revolution’, which he also called the Ethnosoteria
Epanastase, the ‘Nation-Saving Revolution’ of the ‘National Revolutionary Govern-
ment’. [13] Among the official slogans that lit up on the hill slopes surrounding the
stadium were the mottos that have long driven competition in sport as well: ‘aien
aristeuein’, ‘always be the best’. [14] This maxim traces its origins as far back as
Homer’s Iliad (e.g., Il. 6.208 and 11.784) and captures the agonistic heroic ideal of
the epic.
The more detailed description below of the various spectacles that made up the
1967 festivals closely follows the summary version for Greek television. The voiceover
of the 1967 digest is in Kathareuousa Greek spoken by a male. His language is inflated
but still intelligible. The tone, however, is so stentorian as to be far removed from
colloquial intonation. Truth speaks through the regime’s chosen medium of the
authoritative male voiceover, the formal remnant of a narrative framework that
controls how history is being told. Truth is constructed from above, by the ‘Regime
of Truth’, which then passes it down to or through passive recipients by way of a
monologue.
What would become a very long day even for the most junta-devoted of spectators
begins with a public ceremony on Syntagma Square in the heart of Athens, which is
held at the Monument of the Unknown Soldier in front of today’s Parliament
building. Once the patriotic tone has been set, the ceremonies continue with the
celebration of a formal public mass at the Metropolis Cathedral. The resulting images
assist the Colonels in spreading the message that they honour the nation’s memory
and faith and that they embody the exalted ideal of respect for the fatherland, religion
and family – the notorious ‘ideological triptych’ of patris, threskeia, oikogeneia. [15]
After the liturgy at the Metropolis Cathedral, limousines drive the dictators and
other high-ranking representatives of the regime along a well-secured route to the
stadium, where the show of military ritual and historical piety is about to commence.
The general public has arrived by then. The cameras, however, zoom in on the VIP
seats and theatricalize physical and hierarchical positions. Among those who enjoy
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Figure 2. A parade float celebrating the first anniversary of the ‘Revolution of 21 April
1967’, Athens, Panathenaic Stadium, April 1968. Source: Katsigeras, Hellada 20os aionas,
298.
honoured seating are the Colonels, their spouses, royals, and leaders of the Greek
Church hierarchy. King Constantine II and his wife, Anne Marie, however, are
conspicuous by their absence. [16] The camera lingers over their empty seats. The
official excuse, which the voice is eager to repeat, is that the royal couple is travelling
on a state visit abroad. But viewers who have followed the events of 1967 with a
critical eye know that the king has made only an initial and reluctant show of support
for the Colonels. By mid-December of the same year, the king’s countercoup had
failed and he and his family were obliged to flee the country, never to return.
The loud music of marching bands starts up. A show of uniformed men and army
equipment, mainly tanks in camouflage colours, kicks off the military parade in the
stadium. The military hardware bolsters the image of the massed blocks of troops.
The young combatants strike the disciplined poses of Greek military standing and
prestige. As synchronized marchers, the men perform geometric and close-order
drills, and they exchange salutes in response to the directives that the various
commanders shout out. Then goose-stepping male recruits wearing sports outfits
pass in review. Unarmed, they soldier in front of the VIP section. They engage in
sporting displays that show off team coordination, physical fitness and athletic
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prowess. Some of their exercises treat gymnastics rather scoutingly or recall stunts
performed by circus acrobats: young men leap through rings of flames, for example,
on foot and on motorbikes. The group performances, in particular, mix acrobatics
and drama: a dozen men pile upon and somehow drive one motorcycle while
managing to hoist the national flag.
These spectacles give concrete expression to a cult of strength and stamina and of
youth and duty – of all youth’s duty. In the fascist tradition, these sport exercises
demand collective obedience and invoke class collaboration. Athletic training and
physical skill are presented as coordinated displays of male bodies. The shows of the
perfect Greek male body suggest the idealized relationship between young recruits
and the body of Greek citizens. The exalted connection between physical exertion,
militarism and discipline training serves to confirm the virile self-image of the crowd
as well as of its leaders. The ideological interface of gender and male Hellenic
superiority is glaring to modern eyes. The link between ‘sporting’ masculinity and the
creation of theatrical effects is explicit, too: active-duty soldiers in uniform perform
as athletes, acrobats and thespians and they publicly represent the Greek army-state
rather than any Greek sports teams or clubs. Soldiers train in sports for the greater
good of the Greek army and the nation’s power. They demonstrate the strength of the
military machine of the state. Thus the soldiering and sporting displays come out
looking like large-scale military manoeuvres. Like an army commander, Papado-
poulos, or the master-director of the festivals, keeps the execution of the manoeuvres
of a muscle-flexing nation under control at all times.
Changes in music mark changes in content and purpose: from assertive march and
parade music at the outset, to the music of suspense and anticipation that
accompanied the athletic exercises, to more festive, sprightly band tunes that
celebrate Greek achievement. Now the re-enactments of Greek martial victories
begin. Here the text of the voiceover turns to full-blown purple prose. The tableaux
start off with nothing less than the Greek victory in the mythical Trojan War!
Recruits in ancient-style costumes portray the Greeks who have been waiting in their
tent camp before the walls of Troy. They pretend to leave, upon which the Trojans
venture out and fetch the huge wooden horse left behind by the enemy. At night, a
handful of Greeks descend from the horse’s belly and open the gates of Troy for more
Greeks to pour into the city. Together, they speedily defeat the weak Trojans. The
latter are played, of course, by fellow Greek soldiers whose different antique-style
outfits must distinguish them from the good-guy Greeks. The Greeks sound the call
of military triumph and pronounce the beginnings of Greek ascendancy and ethnic
superiority. The Greek soldier is cast as the distinctive new hero who breaches new
eras and boundaries and in whose footsteps the dictators have followed.
The Colonels’ re-enactments provide the theatrical framework for their staging of the
patriotic value of bodily strength. The next episode quintessentializes Greek patriotism:
it hurls its public down from mythic antiquity to the first quarter of the fifth century
BCE and the Persian Wars. The glory days of Classical Greece are shown complete with
the Marathon runner announcing victory, only to collapse – awkwardly – on the floor of
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the stadium. The brisk juxtaposition of mythical and historical Greek triumphs lends
the Trojan legend a ‘historical’ reality of its own alongside authoritative history. In turn,
the Persian Wars bestow mythical heroism on the Marathon fighters, their peers and the
many generations of their ‘descendants’ down to the junta era. Conversely, the deluded
and defeated Trojan enemy hordes are seen to start a long line of – perceived – weak and
hubristic enemies. Together the Eastern opponents make up a formulaic composite of
age-long barbarian inferiority. By the time the festival re-enactments treat the Civil War
years, the Colonels’ manipulation, too, of enemy traits versus ‘ethnic’ or ‘innate’ Greek
character leads to a derogatory portrayal of the communists and leftists who lost the
war.
Subsequent episodes of the tendentious display of Greek deeds follow principles
similar to the makeover of the Trojan War. Spectators may admire next a triumphant
Alexander the Great, who rides into the stadium on a nervous horse. No mention is
made of the decades and historical developments that separated the Persian Wars from
Alexander’s heroic conquest of Egypt and the East. Missing are, in particular, the
Peloponnesian Wars and Athens’ subjugation to Sparta. Such references would have
tainted, however, the desired image of Greek consensus and would have undermined
the Athenocentrism of the junta festivals. Not all victories are created equal. Greek
military supremacy, however, is still supposed to exist in each and any phase in between.
It is as a Greek that Alexander here delivers the – figurative – final blow to the Persian
Empire by destroying its capital city of Persepolis (331 BCE). His act is doubly
‘patriotic’, in that it also hands the dictators the opportunity to declare Macedonia
unquestionably Greek. The Macedonian controversy had plagued Balkan and Greek
foreign politics since the armed conflicts of 1912–1913, to which the regime would draw
attention in due course to restate the Greek nationalist and military cause.
After Alexander’s parade, Constantine the Great, founder of Constantinople in 324
CE, comes on. He is credited with establishing the Byzantine Empire that succeeded
the (declining) Roman West. His victories are won in the name of Christianity: a sign
appears bearing the letters of the divine promise of ‘In this sign, be victorious’.
Constantine is acclaimed here as the father of the Eastern or Orthodox faith, whose
doctrine was formulated in subsequent centuries. Then the festival parade nearly
glosses over a whole Byzantine millennium, because Byzantine supremacy, in the
conservative mindset, equals Greek supremacy and therefore requires little
elaboration. The next historical figure singled out for hero treatment is the Byzantine
emperor Nikephoros Phokas, who reconquered the island of Crete from the Arabs in
961 and thus stopped another inimical force from making further inroads in
Byzantine territory. No mention is made of the fall of Constantinople in 1453: the
festivals must showcase triumph, not defeat.
The Colonels’ streamlined national history is an authoritative exposé of Greek
martial and ‘patriotic’ triumphs, in which paradigmatic leaders take centre stage.
These intriguing leaders, who are, however, not shown in any great detail, are first
and foremost army commanders. As commanders, they become iconic of an entire
force facing a historical crisis: they have their brave – but anonymous – troops prevail
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over emblematic ‘evil’ enemies, who are themselves confined to the anonymity of
groups of different creeds or ethnic origins. Military leadership, muscle power and
victory are valourized over any intellectual or artistic achievements. The sequence of
‘great men’ in Byzantine history is thus reduced to a set of static moments,
stereotypical images, and oft-repeated slogans of a military personality cult. This is
history as the personal myth of military men. The Colonels’ homage is driven by a
substantial degree of self-identification with such ‘patriotic role models’, as if the
success of Byzantine military conquest and reconquest may still spill over onto them.
The dictators’ hero concept is totalizing and masculinizing: their aim is to create the
new man – though not any new woman – in their image of the soldier and athlete.
Onlookers come to occupy a childlike or inferior position, however, before leaders
who always win and whom the regime bumps up to positions of moral rectitude and
authority. Leaders deliver passively suffering populations that are, like the foot-
soldiers who do the actual work, mere historical variables.
In this fashion the Colonels militarized the historical continuity model of the
Greek nation which was embedded in the History of the Hellenic Nation (1860–1875,
in 15 volumes), the seminal nation-building work of Konstantinos Paparregopoulos.
To support the theme of Greece’s military regeneration, the dramatic sequences
typically focused on exploits from the ‘illustrious’ periods of antiquity, Byzantium
and the struggle for independence that built state power through military conquest.
The historical continuity model had a long and complex Greek bourgeois pedigree
since the second half of the nineteenth century. Metaxas exploited this model and
centred it on displays of cultural continuity as well as on nationalist bodily spectacles.
The junta leaders, however, sharpened it as a military paradigm and downgraded
historical continuity as cultural continuity and also sport for its athletic and physical
values. Greek folk dances, for instance, which formed a prominent part of the
interwar spectacles, disappeared from the program of the junta festivals.
Following the Byzantine events, the 1821 War of Independence is presented in the
documentary as a belated act of just retaliation for the most painful of Greek losses:
the fall of Constantinople to the Ottoman Turks. Again, the centuries of subjugation
in between (the ‘dark ages’ of the Tourkokratia) do not fit the official template and
are conveniently overlooked. The official re-enactments commemorate and idealize
the War of Independence as an epoch of unified revolution and public consensus
among the Greeks – which it was not. The episode’s focus is on valiant male Greeks
who expunge a military disgrace by inflicting injury and loss on the historical foe. The
Colonels recycle the old revolutionary script that places unjust cruelty squarely in the
Turkish domain and that affords the Greek masses the role of collective auxiliary
hero. These elements make up the canonic text of the Revolution of 1821, which
becomes a palimpsest of trials of Greek moral strength and masculine bodily valour.
It is a recognizable verbal and visual code that the audience may grasp easily; the
shared emotions derived from it fuel the Greek patriotic sentiment.
After a few more episodes, the Albanian victory, which the Greeks won at the onset
of the Second World War, is referred to as another ‘epic’, as it has been in common
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parlance. Soon after 28 October 1940, Greek troops and local civilians fended off an
Italian invasion of Greece from the northwest and advanced into southern Albania.
This triumph marked one of the earliest acts of organized and unified antifascist
military resistance. Metaxas himself gave the start signal to the battle against the
Italian fascists on the Albanian front. His resolute ‘No!’ in answer to Mussolini’s
ultimatum is, by 1967, a famous motto and the watchword of a national holiday,
Ochi Day (28 October). This historical tableau exceptionally includes female civilians,
who appear, however, only in auxiliary roles: they act as humble physical helpers who
haul boxes of ammunition and other military necessities, which they deliver to the
soldiers in action. In good patriarchal tradition, they merely assist and then resume
their place of admiring spectators, who watch their men make Greek history.
After the episode of the Greek Civil War, to which I will return, the Colonels’
festivals end with the climactic show of their own ‘triumph’ over the communists on
21 April 1967. This self-promoting ‘victory’ is the ‘coup’ de théâtre, the play-within-
the-play that projects the regime’s self-representation. A wagon float decorated with a
giant version of the junta’s emblem of the phoenix rolls in: a Greek soldier stands
guard outlined against the contours of the mythical bird that is reborn from its ashes.
The symbolism of the phoenix, which boasts a long history, became ubiquitous
during the dictatorship years of ‘resurrection’. A procession of floats follows carrying
tableaux vivants of female figures as allegories that represent the values flaunted by
the Colonels: ‘Truth’ (Aletheia), ‘Glory’ (Doxa), ‘Salvation’ (Soteria), ‘Freedom’
(Eleutheria) and other familiar buzzwords. These female characters dressed in
antique-style costumes stand to allegorize the inalienable values and qualities of the
dictators as well as of the national body. Big white letters on the hillside light up and
form the slogan of ‘Hail to the 21st of April’ (Zeto he 21 Apriliou). Fireworks go off to
dramatize the grand finale and draw repeated noisy salvos of applause. Militaristic
triumphalism reaches new, exhilarating heights. So does totalitarian-style kitsch.
At the Panathenaic Stadium the Colonels presented a bodily culture that perfectly
suited their militarized version of Greek continuity but that redefined and essentially
diminished sport. Core athletic events such as track and field competitions or even
re-enactments of the ancient athletic games were missing from their spectacles.
Bodily culture under the dictatorship was a display of performative heroic acts and
axiomatic slogans that were presented in a hybrid stagecraft lined with myth, allegory
and analogy: the junta constructed its myth of physical prowess and amateur athletic
achievement with the essential tools of parade architecture, scenographic decoration
and allegorical form and content. Papadopoulos’s world of verbal pyrotechnics
mirrored that of his theatrical make-believe: both spheres tainted or perverted the
essence of a bodily culture for its physical value. Political expediency and lack of
current perspective rendered the analogies between physical exercise and military
triumph of the past strained – at best. Yet the regime kept up its concerted efforts to
fit bodily prowess into its display of the nation’s history. This bodily culture was
drawn into the official modes of self-righteousness and conceit, as the junta staged
itself as the predestined new glory of a victorious Greece.
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The theme of athletic and military bravery was a popular topic in several Greek
television and radio programs from 1967 on, when both of these media started to or
continued to function under strict state monopoly. [17] The new medium of
television tried to synchronize an ever-larger viewing public and to forge the nation
into a single audience. It was successful to some degree for being the newest and most
fascinating technology, which was seductive to inexperienced viewers. Sport
broadcasts, in particular, aided in sealing the success of the new medium. Sport
and spectacle became the perfect objects for a compliant Greek television industry of
image-making that relayed overt political propaganda to all corners of the country.
The dictators also organized exhibitions on the theme of the ‘polemic virtue of the
Greeks’ and issued catalogues and other publications to buttress the iconography and
rhetoric of their festivals. In spectacles, speeches and publications, the insecure
leaders competed for the Greeks’ recognition through source manipulation and by
controlling public forums – including the world of sport.
The junta festivals illuminated the modern Greek wars of liberation, state formation
and nationalist consolidation with scenes of the heroism of patriotic leaders, who
represented links in the long chain of ‘indigenous’ valiance. Thus the ‘epic’ of 1821 set
the modern Greeks free to see their present as analogous to the classical past and, in
particular, to the Persian War victories, and to assert an unbroken line of Greek
excellence. The modern heroic achievement had to cement continuity between the
ancient through Byzantine military exploits and the dictators’ claims to ‘inherited’
primacy. Military predominance through the ages, which was embodied by a canon of
national heroes, was the junta’s watered-down but reactionary version of the seminal
conception of the continuous thread of national Greek history. [18] The Colonels
turned this seductive continuity that was military longevity into an aggressive ‘mytho-
moteur’ – to use Anthony Smith’s term: [19] the military continuity that they willed was
to constitute and legitimize polity – theirs; it affected morality, pedagogy and education
in its broadest sense, including the adult education purposes that the festivals served.
[20] The Revolution of 1821 typified the inexhaustible lessons for generations of Greeks
to take to heart. Each reference to 1821 resonated anew with the weight of bygone eras,
and it pressured especially Greek youth to show itself true to the time-hallowed national
tradition of valour. The stakes vested in the Revolution of 1821 were therefore higher
than those vested in any other Greek victory of the past. The dictators repossessed the
popular ‘epic’ of 1821, but their blind insistence on militaristic continuity made them
ignore the fallacies of – armed – chauvinism. Their myth, which proved too narrow to
render their propaganda credible, was not successful in resolving social or economic
tensions, either.
IV. Which Models Did the Colonels Have?

The Colonels exhibited an early interest in reforming physical education in schools
with a particular interest in gymnastics and Swedish gymnastics which, according to
government regulations, demanded high levels of discipline, physical effort and
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technical difficulty. Under the junta, gymnastic demonstrations and parades became
popular as well. Thus the school gymnastics curriculum, which was more appropriate
for champions than for schoolchildren, served the regime’s goal to create an obedient
youth and body politic at large. In turn, displays by youth groups in public spectacles,
like the festivals at the Panathenaic Stadium, helped to construct a militarized
communal identity. The 1969 Royal Decree which outlined the new physical
education curriculum for schools was very detailed on gymnastics and athletics but
placed less emphasis on team sports. [21] When the Colonels did make athletic
training compulsory in all schools, they again welcomed the demands of strict
physical discipline and athletic competition that involved students in combative
performances with peers. [22] In the fall of 1969, the regime issued orders to make
track and field obligatory from elementary school onwards, while soccer, basketball
and swimming would be compulsory from high school on. [23] These decisions were
prompted by the disappointment that the Greeks felt at the poor performance of
their athletes in the 1968 Olympic Games in Mexico City and in the European
Athletics Championships that were held in Athens in September of 1969. [24]
Following the latter ‘humiliation’, the regime’s Undersecretary of Education, Niketas
Siores, promised that, from 1970 on, school competitions would be organized
throughout Greece ‘to encourage school sports to the advantage of our national
athletism [sic] and our country’s international prestige’. [25]
The Colonels’ efforts in the realm of sports education did not go unnoticed by
foreign observers. The author or authors of an article entitled ‘Football Yes, Politics
No’, which appeared as part of a survey issue on Greece published by The Economist
and dated 31 July 1971, wrote about the regime’s policy of building stadiums,
swimming pools and gymnasiums throughout the country. Telling, however, is the
following reservation appended to this report on the junta’s building activity:
But as well as providing facilities for football [soccer] and athletics the stadiums are
intended for use on national days when schools and youth clubs can put on displays
to demonstrate physical fitness, disciplined movement and pride in Greece. [26]
The article also noted how much praise the dictators lavished on Athens’ soccer team
Panathenaı̈kos after it reached the final of the 1971 European Champions Cup. When
Panathenaı̈kos beat the team of Red Star Belgrade, thousands of soccer fans poured into
the streets in cities throughout Greece, presenting the regime with an entirely new mass
phenomenon. [27] In Greece, as in many other European countries, the increasing
professionalization of soccer went hand in hand with its growing mass appeal.
The Soldiers of Sport of the Metaxas Regime: From Bodies to Battles

The Colonels partly inherited their interest in athletic and military displays as well as
their official language from the reactionary Greek Right, a socially diverse group of
politicians and citizens with conservative sympathies or affiliations that has
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undergone significant changes in terms of membership and ideology during the

twentieth century. Prior to the military takeover, the Right and Metaxas, in
particular, had paraded most of the same national triumphs in similar festivals held at
the Panathenaic Stadium. [28] Metaxas, however, drew on the prior and pioneering
initiatives taken by the Lyceum of Greek Women (Lykeion Hellenidon), a female
voluntary association that, in productive co-operations with other institutions and
authorities, organized parades, ‘ancient’ and modern folk dances, and spectacles in
the Panathenaic Stadium. From 1914 through the 1930s, the Lyceum’s mass events
emphasized cultural continuity, appealed to the national ideology of the Greek
bourgeoisie at large, and expressed a socio-political consensus that was still far
broader than that of the Greek Right. [29] Right-wing governments, however, had
long tried to usurp the Greek past based partly on the premise that, since they
‘owned’ patriotism, they also ‘owned’ any athletic and military victories inspired by
patriotic sacrifice. In the rhetorical tradition of Metaxas, then, the Colonels styled
themselves as bona fide saviours, latter-day founders, and vigilant father figures with
the authority to educate, censor and punish the ‘immature’ and ‘irresponsible’
Greeks. [30] The dictators saw all of Greece as a mass that needed to be trained and
disciplined by a few basic means, and they considered athletic and military training to
be the best way to do so.
Metaxas quickly realized the potential of sport as a means to teach Greek citizens
and especially Greek youth to respect authority. Hence he tried to ‘educate’ Greek
youth into his type of performative patriotism through sport. Through ‘patriotic’
sport and public display, too, the Colonels engaged in a ‘civic education program’ for
youths and for adults who were past the age of traditional school instruction. The
regime’s hyperbolic displays of athletic and military prowess were meant to (re)shape
the people’s knowledge of Greek history through the ages and to confirm their proud
sense of being racial descendants of the ancient Greeks. The junta festivals thus
picked up the teaching of sacrifice-oriented ‘patriotism’ where the practice of the
school history lessons had left off. The festivals and the realm of pedagogy used
school-going youth and adults with limited formal education as prime material for
subject formation. [31] ‘Actors’ and spectator-performers mimicked skits and
repeated slogans and, instead of learning anything new or challenging, they exerted
themselves in corroborating the old and established ‘facts’. The dearth of a plurality
of scripts in the traditional Greek classroom and at the festivals mirrored the absence
of pluralism in public life. [32] However, in the spirit of the counterculture that
turned much of Western European youth of the late 1960s against any ‘establish-
ment’, increasing numbers of Greek students refused to live the lie of conformism
with the authoritarian regime. They were among the first to expose the fissures in the
artificial creation of a consensual public history. [33]
The tradition of slogans in Greece was the brainchild of Metaxas, who wanted to
affect all public domains including sport and education. Under his regime, sport
became a prominent component of a totalitarianism of the body, which was –
paradoxically – serving a totalitarianism of the mind. Neni Panourgia explains:
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Figure 3. Poster: at the festivals of the dictatorial regime of 1967–1974, Greek actors-recruits and allegorical figures embodied the known
sets of proud mottos and ‘historical’ victory cries. The regime relished in schoolbook-style slogans that raised the Greeks’ defences against
‘national enemies’. Source: Rautopoulos, ‘Kitsch hos fascistometro’, 245.

His [Metaxas’s] was an imperialism of the mind and the psyche, an imperialism as
aggressive as it was brutal, aimed at totally annihilating the citizen by demanding
his mind. A citizen could not placate this project through mere compliance. It
required not only total submission but total agreement. It could not tolerate or
absorb dissent and disagreement but demanded complete agreement and
subscription. [34]
Metaxas had proclaimed essay competitions for young people on topics that
instituted and reiterated the nationalist exhortations. [35] He had also manipulated
mass open-air rallies, from athletic events to historical re-enactments, following the
1930s doctrine that popular sports could be intimately linked to mass pageantry.
Metaxas’s public initiatives took sport and athletic valiance to the edge, but they
always focused on the physical prowess of the collective, not of the individual athlete,
and also on the ‘aesthetics’ of presenting dynamic bodies moving through dramatic
spaces. [36] Supporters of the regime promoted Metaxas’s vision of sport as a healthy
antidote to the ‘American disease of chasing crazy records’. [37]
Metaxas established his ‘Regime of the Fourth of August 1936’ while the 1936
Olympics were going on (from 1 through 16 August) in Berlin, where Greece had
sent a delegation of athletes. All international media attention, however, had turned
to the site of ancient Olympia, the point of departure of the – invented – Olympic
torch run. The torch lighting ceremony that kicked off the relay took place on 20 July
1936 in the ancient stadium at Olympia. [38]
Metaxas consolidated his hold on power in the days leading up to the opening
ceremonies of the Berlin Olympics and as the Nazis promised more German funds to
advance excavations at the ancient site of Olympia. [39] As if the rediscovered ancient
lustre and the modern Olympic aura were not enough, Metaxas proclaimed the
foundation of the ‘Third Hellenic Civilization’, modelled after Hitler’s Third German
Reich. As early as September of 1936, Metaxas, in an interview with a correspondent
of the French newspaper Paris Echo, stated: ‘I want a strong and healthy Youth; an
athletic Youth. The blood needs occasional revitalisation. Today athletics remain the
only means to revitalise the blood: Athletics for everybody’. [40] Metaxas organized
the First Athletic Week in June of 1938, which saw some 10,000 athletes participating
in various events. In November of 1938, his government launched the great ‘Athletic
Campaign’. [41] One month later, Metaxas acquired the title of ‘First Athlete’. [42]
Underscoring the role of sport in regenerating the Greek nation, Konstantinos
Kotzias, ex-Chief of Athletics, proclaimed on 31 December 1938:
The steering wheel of Greek athletics is now in the hands of our Chief. For the first
time in Greek history a Prime Minister will lead athletics, and for the first time
athletics will be led by a Prime Minister. [43]
Metaxas’s government prioritized physical education in the public school

curriculum without, however, introducing significant changes to the 1929 legislation
on this issue. It raised the standards for teacher training at the Physical Education
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Figure 4. A rare Greek document lays out the detailed ceremonial program of the first
Olympic torch run of 20 July 1936, and quotes from Pindar’s Eighth Olympic Ode.
Source: Georgios I. Dolianitis and the G. Dolianitis Library.
133

Academy, which left its graduates better prepared for their extended duties in
delivering physical education in schools. [44] Metaxas also engaged masses of young
people in athletic events through EON, the Ethnike Organose Neolaias, or his National
Youth Organization. Marina Petrakis claims that every EON division was obliged to
organize an athletic team and that member participation in the team became
compulsory. [45] Mainly, however, EON was in charge of supervising the activities of
sports clubs and of ensuring that they were incorporated into the regime’s official
ideology. In general, the state and its organs prioritized physical training and
compliance with the national consensus over advanced school education. Metaxas
also experimented with contemporary means and techniques to involve the masses:
he orchestrated mass ‘choruses’ marching, speaking and chanting in unison, and he
exploited loudspeaker and radio broadcasts. [46] In 1939, Metaxas sponsored the
production of a small documentary film, titled The Panhellenic Athletic Games of
EON, which featured EON’s athletic contests conducted in May 1939 in the ‘old’
Olympic (i.e. Panathenaic) Stadium. [47] Sport activities included soccer and various
track and field events such as shot-put, hurdles, long jump, high jump, triple jump,
javelin throw, marathon, discus throw, relay, stone throw, etc. [48] Most
significantly, the official documentary promoted the image of a strong youth and
of a unified totality of Greek citizens. Reportedly, the Athletic Games of EON
counted some 250,000 members-participants, while spectator numbers reached
80,000. [49] The sheer numbers had to discourage Greek individuality and had to
inspire, instead, unity and harmony. [50] According to Petrakis, ‘[t]he screen is filled
with slim young men and women in circles and in lines performing their athletic
exercises, keeping in step with each other’. [51]
Metaxas’s enthusiasm for the co-optive totality of gigantic sports events and mass
public stagings was especially marked on national anniversaries. This excitement
rings through many of his diary entries, which were published in no less than eight
volumes. See, for instance, his entry on 25 March 1938:
What a dream that was yesterday and today!—Yesterday at the Pedion tou Areos
with the National Youth. [52] My work! . . . Ceremony. Enthusiasm. Apotheosis.
The army’s parade splendid. In the afternoon, a parade of . . . the National
Youth . . . – The phalanxes of E.O.N. had no end to them! All in uniform! About
12,000 to 14,000! The impression on the people was stunning! [53]
The juxtaposition of EON with the Greek army and the choice of military metaphors
such as ‘phalanxes’ indicate that Metaxas recognized the potential that a well-trained
youth held as a future combat force. [54] A devoted youth stood metonymically for the
devoted masses of civilians and also for the presumed devoted army troops. Organizing
divisions of young athletes meant securing the country’s precious military resources.
The comments of Sitsa Karaı̈skake, who contributed an article to the journal He Neolaia
of 1939, proved ominous. He Neolaia, or The [Our] Youth, was the richly illustrated
youth magazine that EON published from 1938 through 1941, under the auspices of the
government of Metaxas. [55] The article expounds on ‘the deeper meaning of sport’:
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But do they want to turn them [the younger Greek generations] into small soldiers?
No, we answer . . . today’s Greece does not want to make small soldiers but only
big soldiers. It wants, nonetheless, to follow its racial tradition, which bestowed on
mankind the spirit of action, and it wants to revive in its blood that noble drive . . .
It wants to revive in its blood that red, swift, and phosphorescent blood cell that
begot Solon and Aeschylus, Pericles and Euripides in multifold, and that brought
glory to Marathon and Salamis. [56]
Metaxas craftily transformed athletic spectacle into a massive paramilitary

apparatus. The dictator issued protocols to standardize and control the nation’s
athletic and secular rituals, which post-war right-wing governments then reused. His
central administration dispatched related directives to provincial towns and villages.
[57] However, Metaxas’s concerted efforts to develop a power base through a strong
Greek youth movement eventually failed. The Second World War proved that the
allegory of the athlete as soldier could swiftly and unapologetically become reality.
The following lines from Richard Mandell are telling and, even though they describe
the ‘Nazi Olympics’ (his term), they may be applied to late 1930s Greece as well:
[P]aradoxically, it is the best ‘players’ (as they are called) who must be most deadly
in earnest in mastering tactics and in living up to the yearnings for patriotic
supremacy that their society imposes upon them. [58]
In the conception of the reactionary Greek Right, which was not immune to political
expediency, militarism vouched for patriotism and should, if necessary, stand in for
politics. The Colonels saw themselves as Metaxas’s undisputed heirs and mimicked
many of his practices in the realms of athletics, bodily culture and army parades.
The ‘Immense Moral Advantages’ to Mass Sport and Mass Pageantry on the Ancient
Greek Model
Greek festival pageantry predates the rule of Metaxas. The Cretan statesman
Eleutherios Venizelos staged his partisan-patriotic victory celebrations at the ‘old’
Olympic Stadium in mid-September of 1920. His own ‘triumphal procession’
provoked reactions that ranged from shock and outcry to uncritical adulation. [59]
The grand centennial celebrations of Greek Independence, postponed until 1930,
raised similar reservations: Venizelos was personally involved to celebrate his return
to politics and the prominence of Cretan culture was pervasive. The stadium again
saw some of the most hyperbolic historical re-enactments, such as the ‘Bloodless
Sacrifice from the Minoan Period’, a spectacle in which the Lyceum of Greek Women
took on the lead role, as it had done on prior occasions since 1914. [60] Decades
prior to Venizelos’s political successes, the initiative had been raised to stage Greek
history as a continuum of male athletic prowess inherited from antiquity and thus to
strengthen national reawakening. In January of 1835, Ioannes Kolettes (1774–1847),
Minister of Internal Affairs to King Otho, published a proposal (in French) for
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athletic games and festivals that would commemorate, at public expense, the major
events and battle sites of the Greek Revolutionary War of 1821 and also the spirit of
national unification that advocates of the war had propounded. [61] According to the
plan, these events would be modelled after the panhellenic athletic games and other
festivals of Greek antiquity, such as the famous Olympian, Pythian, Nemean and
Isthmian Games, but also the classical religious festivals of the Panathenaia, the
Eleusinia, the Thesmophoria, the Great Dionysia, etc. Kolettes singled out
the particular advantages of such institutions for the newborn Greek state: the
international resonance of those festivals, their role in strengthening the royal house,
and the very high ethical benefits (‘d’immenses avantages moraux’) that they would
deliver and that promised to bring modern Greece closer to ancient Greece. [62]
Kolettes summed up: ‘Tâchons que le Grec moderne approche de l’ancien, que le fils
réproduise le père’, ‘Let us try to make the modern Greek approach the ancient Greek,
to make the son replicate the father’. [63] The objective of Kolettes to re-create
aspects of the athletic competitions that took place in antiquity was seminal to the
process of designing the state-sponsored pageantry of Greece in the twentieth
century. [64] The ideal of a renaissance of the Greek nation through ancient sports
drove the nineteenth-century Zappas Olympics (1859, 1870, 1875 and 1889).
However, the 1896 revival of the Olympic Games proved to be the most important
catalyst in this process. Through the pre-WWI era, Greece was eager to claim and
secure its guardianship over the authentic ancient athletic tradition, which would
become more significant as the modern Olympic movement gained wider local and
Western support. [65] Significantly, the celebration of the 25th of March was
established in 1838, or three years after Kolettes had issued his proposal. [66]
In sum, the Colonels did not invent their athletic contests and festivals, but they
made them their own by revising and expanding them. The architects of the regime’s
events had before them a series of canonical templates and a performative repertory
from which to choose in accordance with the prevailing state priorities. The
strongmen of the late 1960s also had certain technological advancements working for
them. Thus Papadopoulos propped up his public celebrations with ‘suitable’ (read:
censored) television and media coverage, whose rote praise was the illusionary
equivalent of the rote applause in the stadium.
V. Teaching Self-Sacrifice for the ‘Regime of Truth’, for the Nation in Danger
The military dictatorship of 1967–1974 exploited the ideal of self-sacrifice as a norm
that ruled the realms of sport and soldiering. The regime’s ‘patriotic’ mottos pivoted
on the official demands that the Greeks renounce individual will and that they
perform acts similar to those of athletes and soldiers of the past, who had brought
greatness to the country. The Colonels’ visual and verbal rhetoric, however, enacted
or performed Greek patriotism, enmity, victory and lineage in single-minded
definitions. Michael Herzfeld reminds us that the ideal of self-sacrifice that promises
collective glory is a ‘key feature of nationalist discourses everywhere’. [67]
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The Colonels exploited the nation-in-danger theme to bolster the need for a
perpetual state of nationwide mobilization. They framed their militarized displays of
bodily culture by re-enactments of ‘polemic’ crises, which the Greek army had
overcome with fortitude. Potency in sport was to herald military success in case of
any future challenge to the nation’s territory and integrity. More immediately,
however, these displays and performances expressed the leadership’s demand for a
civic society disciplined along the lines of the – overvalued – military model. Athletes
and soldiers had to give commanding performances before the ordered masses and
had to lay out exemplary patterns of citizen virtue and behaviour; their own activities
emphasized dutiful discipline over citizen rights. Their orchestrated patterns of
movement ‘rehearse[d]’, as Susan Sontag would say, ‘the very unity of the polity’.
[68] The purpose of the rigid exercises was not to discover the individual in the midst
of mass formations, but to show the unstoppable strength of such regimented blocks
of athletes, soldiers and citizens in motion. Even if citizen training did not have a
direct military application, it procured many well-oiled cogs in the wheels of Greek
society. Thus the athletic events and the festivals became public demonstrations of
the Colonels’ authority and of Greek civic obedience. [69]
It was in those crises and confrontations with various adversarial worlds that the
Colonels defined patriotic self-sacrifice as part of ‘proper’ Greek identity. To capture
this ideal of a nationalist patriotism, the dictators revived a loaded Greek term that
had reigned in the context of Greece’s anticommunist state ideology for several
decades: ethnikophrosyne, or ‘national-mindedness’, or national morale. [70] They
promulgated a militarized version of a Greek national discourse with nineteenth-
century roots when they presented this nationalist patriotism as an antidote against
‘destructive’ communism. This version of militarized patriotism was based on the
‘innate’ national traits of athletic endurance, military fortitude and moral
pre-eminence. Such traits were presumed to be part of the ‘ethnic’ state of mind
of the ethnikophrones, who adhered to ‘timeless’ conservative principles. These
qualities, which stressed an essentialist Greekness, proclaimed the present Greeks as
members of a privileged historical race. Throughout history, battles with threatening
enemies had served to sharpen the focus of such ‘pure’, uninterrupted Greekness. The
use of metaphors of medicalization and cleansing was not coincidental and
permeated the public domain of sport: Metaxas and the ultra-right-wing camp had
long conceived of communism, in particular, as a ‘virus’ or ‘infection’ that needed to
be extirpated to safeguard the ‘purity’ of the Greek nation. They exploited sport for
its role in the state-led attempt to ‘disinfect’ or ‘purify’ contaminated bodies and
minds. By doting on sport, they fleshed out their spurious claims that they were not
only protecting but actively producing the ‘health’ of the Greek family and of Greek
society at large. The patterns supporting this rhetoric, however, involved both societal
and political exclusion versus inclusion through public practices that fed on
themselves while they remained subject to the superior will of the power holder.
The regime of 1967 exhibited its canonic sequence of Greek military victories and
mottos in order to authenticate its authority on behalf of the ‘deserving’ armed
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forces. Once it had successfully portrayed all external enemies as aggressors against
the ‘noble’ defenders of the homeland, it could bolster its claims to Greek racial and
moral superiority. The junta sought and found an ‘authentic’ tradition of origins and
a ‘valid’ genealogy for its own military intervention. The Colonels posited the
anniversary date of their own takeover as a new national holiday. The official cult of
the past was also a cult of self-advertised new beginnings, of the self-styled
‘regenerative Revolution’. Greece was, however, moving further away from the kind
of revolutionary socio-political reform that it most badly needed. On the regime’s
first anniversary, Papadopoulos concluded his official address to the nation with
statements that reveal his will to graft the insurgency onto the Greek tradition of
victory:
The Revolution of 21 April represents the greatest and most serious attempt to
restore, reorganize, and cure Greece since it regained its National Independence.
And the Revolution will succeed, because it bespeaks the necessity of the historical
imperative. [71]
Papadopoulos’s casting of the Revolution of 1821 as a grand analogue for his own
military aggression smacked of propagandistic distortion. Nonetheless, the regime
relentlessly promoted the values of the country’s rulers, ancestors and roots by
grounding them in a proud, ‘authentic’ history, in an unchanging geocultural
territory, and in unshaken diachronic time. According to the Colonels, Greek
national and moral primacy, like a family’s lineage, could not be engineered but was
naturally given to the family of the immortal nation. Thus they again sharpened a
nineteenth-century Greek nationalist tenet and made it subservient to their ideology
‘of the barracks’ (as it has sometimes been called disparagingly). Not surprisingly, the
official rhetoric of ethnic pride and justice and of the national family appealed to the
patriotic sentiment of many Greeks who sought stability and prosperity after many
years of military and political turmoil. The power play of the Colonels, who inscribed
themselves as model successors in the proud Hellenic tradition, strongly suggested
the ‘right’ course of action for Greeks who valued their own history and reputation.
Plenty of others, however, realized that the junta was reducing action-oriented and
uncontaminated Greek virtue to purebred military character – and, even then, more
to physical bravery than to military genius. For the dictators, the theatrical
communication through displays of bodily culture was one of tradition, primacy and
proven authenticity. Critics, however, saw a farcical spectacle and a transparent
concoction of propaganda.
The touting of the ‘scripted’ triumph of the Right by a succession of conservative
governments (1946–1963 and 1967–1974) distressed a substantial but silenced part of
the Greek populace. The military regime rubbed salt in still open wounds by taking
action against the real or imagined offences, the ‘unpatriotic acts’ or ‘acts against the
nation’, of leftists and communists. At the festivals, young recruits staged the victory
also of the Right in the Civil War of the late 1940s. This meant that some of them
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were compelled to re-enact the very defeat of their fathers and families. It suited the
Colonels to present the battles against interior and exterior communists as
interrelated parts of a single ‘holy war’. They were, however, never able to produce
hard evidence of the supposedly imminent threat of a communist coup that their
own military takeover had ‘forestalled’. Meanwhile, the official rhetoric was pervaded
by calls for ‘patriotic’ loyalty to the nation’s ‘protectors’, as well as for vigilance and
suspicion of fellow Greeks. It was fortified also by the protracted state of martial law.
The triumphant sports events and the historical re-enactments may have failed to
camouflage the regime’s unstable ideological core. As shows of confidence, however,
they did have some success. The festivals set up the physical and ideological
framework of a ‘spontaneous’ show of consent about disputed events that lived on in
many of the spectators’ active memory. As consummate artificers, hieratic and aloof,
the Colonels officiated at these compulsory rituals that had to bestow consensus and
certainty on the recent past. With these public boasts and with certain deliberate
omissions, the dictators committed to a – disquieting – conception of history that not
only recovered and showcased the past but also shaped the present: they mustered up
all the momentum of heroic Greek history to have it (re)cover and revise the present.
The junta practiced ‘wishful remembering’ and pushed contested, unsavoury or
contradictory memories and remembrances into oblivion. By re-enacting the same
historical episodes every year, the regime inculcated hegemonic patterns of popular
remembering, but it also induced collective amnesia, or the purposeful forgetting of
past losses, ambivalent events or historical ambiguities.
The monumental festivals did not come about, however, without the planning and
cooperation of many. Coarse though the sports events and historical re-enactments
might have been, they expressed the Right’s nationalist priorities for decades. In
August of 1982, Andreas Papandreou’s Socialist government issued a decree that
abolished the ‘Festivals of the Polemic Virtue of the Greeks’. [72] There was, in 1982
or even later, no consensus about how to present recent Greek history, especially the
WWII Resistance and the Civil War. There was, however, a growing realization that
the real interest of the national past was in how it constituted and conditioned the
future.
VI. Conclusion
Through the festivals, the media and school education, the Colonels’ ‘Truth’ became
officially codified. But the dramatic pretence of a rule representative of a heroic and
immortal Greece fell far short of providing sufficient philosophical content or form.
Therefore, the dictators tried all the harder to tap the various available symbolic and
popular paradigms, and especially sports, to establish themselves on firmer moral and
psychological grounds. The regime attempted to fill its ideological void with
jingoistic patriotism and resorted to the power of sport and spectacle to muster up
approval and cohesion. However, the clichéd sports activities and the re-enactments
of military victories failed to rekindle an exhausted master narrative of right-wing
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‘patriotism’, despite the resources that were lavished on them. The frequency with
which the festivals were repeated every summer and also on – contrived –
anniversaries degraded sport into the stage of serial reproduction. As a group ritual of
affirmation of the national myths, sport exposed the ‘spectacular’ effects that the
regime placed at the centre of its politics. The sports events represented just one facet
of the proliferation of performances in Greece’s political life under the military
dictatorship. Yet they were among the most deliberately staged and carefully
fabricated public rituals. Stagecraft, however, could not substitute for statecraft.
‘Patriotic’ sports interacted with many other, long-standing and typically right-
wing modes of discourse on Greek patriotism. The Colonels kept revisiting the
patriotic passages of lion-hearted Greek leaders – and of the self-sacrifice of
subordinates, in the sequential designation of bodies to battles. They highlighted the
familiar but orientalized contexts of the Trojan War, the Persian Wars and the 1821
Revolution. The realm of sport, turned into a dramatic event as well, thus fell victim
to perhaps the most pernicious developments in verbal usage and visual political
imagining. Greece’s grand narrative exalted in predetermined certainty about the
force and the manly efficacy of sport and of the ‘army tradition’ that were seen to
affirm the nation’s ‘immortality’. Its myth of timeless continuity established that
‘history [wa]s not a play of contingent forces’ and that its ‘fundamental constants
[we]re struggle, sacrifice, victory’. [73]
The dictators felt no scruples to abuse sport, the past and Greek culture in all
available areas. Education, however, was one of its arenas of choice, and it had to
generate the fixed patterns of thinking that were in agreement with the official policy
line. If spectacle was the preferred platform for disseminating nationalist history,
education was the vehicle for standardizing it. The junta’s normative parading of
athletic and military feats and of subjects’ duties had its mirror image in the tight
control of physical education. Ubiquitous uniforms gave expression to the desired
uniformity of thought and action – in the ideal image of an orderly (or soldierly)
body politic.
The Colonels represented the Greek body politic to itself, that is, to crowds
produced by any means. Their grand festivals returned the stadium of urban
Athens to its origins of a sports hub. But, in their paternalistic ways, the dictators
mistook a performance of massive scale in a stadium with mass attendance for a
sports event for the masses or of the masses. Their program for grandiose
theatrics of sport to illuminate national myths before a civic body was deeply
flawed. The ceremoniousness with which the regime conducted the festivals belied
any genuine attempt to rouse the crowds to actively participate in sports. But it
was not quality sports that the rulers were after. Displays of bodily culture
presented against the backdrop of the historical re-enactments of past victories
constituted a populist medium for promulgating the ethno-historical nation and
its mission. However, the athletes and the soldier-actors were no longer individual
figures but stood for generations of disciplined Greeks. Their dramatic function
was to prepare the stage for the true ‘heroes’: the ‘nation-saving’ leaders, who had
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now been set in a popular and ‘historical’ perspective. The thrill of Greece’s historical
victories had to generate the properly ‘spontaneous’ enthrallment with the regime’s
victory. In sport, the Colonels sought and found the popular athletes to stand proxy for
them in triumph. But the dogmatism that typified the junta festivals delivered
cardboard heroes, too flat to make for meaningful interaction. These heroes, who had
hardly any relief or personality to them, still appeared as exempla virtutis: they were the
free, intrepid fighters of the cause of patriotism in the regime’s definition. The
dictators’ perception of sport and history was not drawn on a broad or varied canvas
but was a title deed to analogic events. The theatres of sport and of the cartoonish re-
enactments were related and desperate expressions of what the Colonels were really
seeking: a place on the podium of Greek winners.
Acknowledgements
I thank the editors of this special issue, Zinon Papakonstantinou and Eleni
Fournaraki, for their patient and professional guidance. I am grateful also to the
anonymous readers who helped to shape this article and to Gregory Terzian, for
reading earlier drafts and for catching inelegancies in my English.
Notes
[1] Machaira, Neolaia tes 4es Augoustou, 134, 138.
[2] The characterization of ‘hyper-spectacle’ or ‘hyper-theama’ is drawn from Rautopoulos,
‘Kitsch hos fascistometro’, 69.
[3] The only (semi-scholarly) source that attempts to place these festivals in a historical and
cultural context is Rautopoulos, ‘Kitsch hos fascistometro’, 70–71, 88–95. Rautopoulos’s
minimal commentary is, however, one-sidedly negative.
[4] One of the most insightful recent treatments can be found in Fischer-Lichte, Theatre, Sacrifice,
Ritual. Ironically, by staging military exploits, the Colonels’ festivals resembled the mass
victory celebrations of the Bolsheviks of the Soviet Union (with the Spartakaiads and similar
forms of collective pageantry and invented hierarchy). See further Golomstock, Totalitarian
Art; Lasansky, Renaissance Perfected; Senelick, ‘Theatre’, 277–8; Spotts, Hitler. For a longer
historical perspective on the Olympics as ‘mega-events’, see Roche, Mega-events and
Modernity.
[5] See, for example, the big spread on the festivals and the accompanying speeches of 20–21 April
1969, on the front page of the leading Greek newspaper To Vema of the following day (22
April 1969).
[6] Kofas, Authoritarianism in Greece, 104. See further Close, Origins of the Greek Civil War, 46–
47.
[7] For an example of Papadopoulos’s speeches of admonition to Greece’s civil servants, see
‘Arista steleche’, front page of To Vema, 19 March 1968. See further Close, Greece since 1945,
115.
[8] This meant that the leaders generally maintained the make-believe that their festivals fanned
the flame of genuine popular devotion to their rule, while large parts of the audience played
along. The pretence of acting and ‘believing’ on both sides reflected the dynamics of the
‘public transcript’ and of the dramaturgy of power that James Scott has articulated in his
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seminal work, Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts. On some of the
specific strategies in exercising power and pretence, see Scott, Domination, 89, 44.
[9] I do not label either the Metaxas regime or the Colonels’ rule as strictly ‘fascist’, but prefer to
characterize both regimes as ultra-right-wing, reactionary in their ideology (a partly secular,
partly religious fundamentalism), violently anticommunist, authoritarian and brutal in their
methods. Voglis, Becoming a Subject, 39, notes that Metaxas tried hard to mobilize a mass
fascist movement but did not succeed. For a recent study on Metaxas and on the extent and
power of his propaganda mill, see Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, who devotes special attention
to ‘theatre propaganda’ (her chapter four). See also the recent comprehensive study by
Angeles, ‘Giati chairetai ho kosmos’, 94–101 on ‘theatre and E.O.N.’ and 234–6 on the Metaxas
government’s approach to public health and sport; Hamilakis, The Nation and Its Ruins,
chapter five; Machaira, Neolaia tes 4es Augoustou, 130–45; and Panourgia, Dangerous Citizens,
34–37. For more on the ‘theatrical’ qualities of Metaxas’s rhetoric, see Bregianne, ‘Politike ton
pseudaistheseon’, 171–2, and Carabott, ‘Monumental Visions’. For a historian’s positioning of
the Greek junta within a political spectrum that incorporates fascism, see Clogg, ‘Ideology of
the ‘‘Revolution’’’, 51–53. On page 53, Clogg calls the definition of ‘pseudo-fascist paternalist
dictatorship’ perhaps the most apposite descriptive label. He notes obvious parallels with what
has been dubbed ‘clerical-military semi-fascism’.
[10] On the Italian fascist culture of the body and on its ideological underpinnings, see, for
instance, Gori, ‘Supermanism’.
[11] The 1936 Olympics in Berlin were captured on screen in the epic-propagandistic film Olympia
(1937), made by the controversial late Leni Riefenstahl. By 1936, Riefenstahl had completed
Hitler’s previous commission, the filming of a massive 1934 Nazi party rally in Nuremberg.
The result, Triumph of the Will, contains many scenes of public speeches, (youth) gatherings,
athletic marches and military parades, which together render Germany’s drive to war palpable.
It also shows samples of the kind of monumental architecture (designed by Albert Speer) that
later gained a bad name because of its fascist origins. For a sharp critique of Riefenstahl and
her work, see Sontag, ‘Fascinating Fascism’. Sontag spoke of ‘fascist visuals’ and noted fascist
art’s spurious claim to ‘idealism’. Sontag, ‘Fascinating Fascism’, 87, 91. See also recently
Mackenzie, ‘From Athens to Berlin’.
[12] The Greek ultra-right-wing discourse stressed the historical continuity of the Greek ‘race’ but
did not seek ‘scientific legitimacy in physical anthropological or craniometric studies, as has
happened in other European countries’. Hamilakis, The Nation and Its Ruins, 171, 3. See also
Panourgia, Dangerous Citizens, 34. It must also be noted that the argument for the historical
continuity of the Greek race had been made by Greek nationalists of various political
affiliations since the second half of the nineteenth century.
[13] See also Clogg, ‘Ideology of the ‘‘Revolution’’’, 36, 40, 45, 48; Kourvetaris, Studies on Modern
Greek Society and Politics, 137; Woodhouse, The Rise and Fall of the Greek Colonels, 31–32.
[14] See also Machaira, Neolaia tes 4es Augoustou, 137.
[15] Frangoudaki [Phrankoudake], ‘Greek Education in the Twentieth Century’, 206, 209. For the
power of these ideals under Metaxas, see Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 225, 172.
[16] The royal family did attend the festivals of the year before the coup, as the digest of 1966
shows. The patriotic spectacles that predated the coup also took place in the Panathenaic
Stadium but placed less emphasis on the role of the Greek army.
[17] See further Afentouli, ‘The Greek Media Landscape’, 173; Katsoudas, ‘The Media’, 189, 193,
196, 206; Valoukos, Hellenike Teleorase; Van Steen, ‘Classical Drama Revived’, 147.
[18] See Gourgouris, Dream Nation, 252–61; Liakos, ‘The Construction of National Time’, 32–33, 34.
[19] Smith, Myths and Memories of the Nation, 215.
[20] From the nineteenth and well into the twentieth century, instruction in Greek history in
primary and secondary schools, preferably highly structured, was marked and marred by its
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relentless emphasis on the ‘patriotic’ national past. To be sure, the teaching of history plays a
key role in any nation-state, but the content of history lessons in Greek schools tended to be
especially ethnocentric. On the problems posed by an educational culture of excessive
classicizing – and nationalizing, see also Gazi, ‘Scientific’ National History, 114–5.
[21] Karantaidou, Physike agoge, 95.
[22] See Papadakis et al., Why Did the Revolution of April 21, 1967 Take Place, 128, 138.
[23] Anon., ‘School Programs Revised in Greece – Athletics Made Compulsory – History is
Rewritten’, The New York Times, 12 October 1969.
[24] Anon., ‘School Programs Revised in Greece – Athletics Made Compulsory – History is
Rewritten’, The New York Times, 12 October 1969.
[25] Siores is quoted by anon., ‘School Programs Revised in Greece – Athletics Made Compulsory –
History is Rewritten’, The New York Times, 12 October 1969.
[26] Anon., ‘Football Yes, Politics No’, xxxii.
[27] Anon., ‘Football Yes, Politics No’, xxxii.
[28] See especially Machaira, Neolaia tes 4es Augoustou, 132–33.
[29] See Fournaraki, in this volume, for far more detailed information on the formative role that
the Lyceum of Greek Women played in the creation of state-sponsored spectacles that stressed
cultural continuity and that institutionalized the use of the Panathenaic Stadium as the
preferred venue for such mass events. See also below, note 60.
[30] See, for example, Papadopoulos’s speech given as if ‘by a parent to his children’ (in his
words) on the occasion of the regime’s second anniversary celebration: ‘Proparas-
keuasthete’, front page of To Vema, 22 April 1969. For a broader spectrum of
Papadopoulos’s speeches, see Papadopoulos, To Pisteuo mas. See also Clogg, ‘Ideology of
the ‘‘Revolution’’’, 46, 53, 54; Phillips, ‘The Distortion of Language’; Scott, Domination
and the Arts of Resistance, 103–4, 67.
[31] See further Legg and Roberts, Modern Greece, 98–99, who spoke of the ‘nationalizing mission’
of Greek education (98). The nationalization of the masses through school instruction in
history or through festivals that display the nation’s athletic performance or that invent
symbols of national athletic ‘traditions’ is a widely shared process in the formation of modern
nation-states. See also note 20.
[32] See the pedagogical material and evidence from the mid-1950s through 1970s, compiled and
analysed by Phrankoudake, Anagnostika vivlia. See also Hamilakis, ‘Learn History!’, on Greek
history textbooks, in particular; and The Nation and Its Ruins, 29, 179–81, 203. On Greek history
textbooks, see further Koulouri, Dimensions idéologiques. For a recent study of the broader
picture of twentieth-century Greek education, see Avdela, ‘The Teaching of History in Greece’,
and Frangoudaki [Phrankoudake], ‘Greek Education in the Twentieth Century’. On Sport and
patriotism in nineteenth-century Greece, see Fournaraki, ‘Genre et éducation physique’.
[33] The opposition against the military regime was at first slow to appear for various reasons. The
Old Left had been defeated or driven abroad or pushed underground. The post-war years of
anticommunist state persecution had decimated or fatigued the left-wing ranks. With the
1967 coup, a new wave of anticommunist terror and torture ensued. But the junta security
forces intimidated members of the Right as well and caused them to pursue some of the
interests that they shared with the Left. On the student movement and the creation of the
young New Left, see further Kornetis, Student Resistance to the Greek Military Dictatorship.
[34] Panourgia, Dangerous Citizens, 34.
[35] Among those guiding essay topics were: ‘I am the indestructible spirit of those who fought at
Salamis’ (K. Palamas), ‘The relationship with the Fatherland is a very close relationship, closer
still than the relationship of the child with its parents’, and ‘One omen is best: to defend one’s
fatherland!’. See further Machaira, Neolaia tes 4es Augoustou, 140–2. The latter motto traces its
origins as far back as Homer’s Iliad 12.243, in which – ironically – the defiant Trojan hero
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Hector reprimands Polydamas, who discourages the Trojans from engaging in battle because
of a bad avian omen.
[36] On the aestheticization of sport and politics under Metaxas, see especially Marketos, Pos
philesa ton Mussolini, 59–60.
[37] Karaı̈skake, ‘Vathytero pneuma’, 1075. The critique that Greek intellectuals launched against
competitive record seeking in sport (as opposed to the aestheticized quest for harmony and
beauty through physical exercise) had a longer history that can be traced back to at least the
beginning of the twentieth century. It was this ideology that inspired attempts to revive
‘authentic’ ancient Greek athletic contests in the 1920s (for instance, the contests that were part of
the Delphic festivals organized by Angelos and Eva Sikelianos in 1927 and 1930). In the 1920s, too,
Pierre de Coubertain himself flirted with the idea of reviving ancient athletics to counteract the
modern professionalization of sport promoted by the Olympic Games. See Clastres, ‘Hommages
et controverses’. This kind of critique had been voiced also (albeit in a vague way) during the 1896
Olympic Games by intellectual Greek women. I owe these observations to Eleni Fournaraki. See
further Fournaraki, ‘The Olympism of the Ladies’ and her article in the present volume.
[38] Mandell, The Nazi Olympics, 129–33.
[39] Hamilakis, The Nation and Its Ruins, 196–7; Krüger, ‘Germany: The Propaganda Machine’,
32; Mandell, The Nazi Olympics, 284; Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 235, 73. See also Yalouri,
The Acropolis, 39–40.
[40] Quoted and translated by Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 88.
[41] Angeles, ‘Giati chairetai ho kosmos’, 235.
[42] Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 4, 88–89, 90.
[43] Quoted and translated by Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 88, from He Neolaia 12 (1938), 397. On
the journal He Neolaia, see below.
[44] Angeles, ‘Giati chairetai ho kosmos’, 235.
[45] Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 4, 88, and passim. On E.O.N., see also Hamilakis, The Nation and
Its Ruins, 179–81. For a collection of E.O.N.’s primary texts, see Petrides, E.O.N. See also
Angeles, ‘Giati chairetai ho kosmos’.
[46] Carabott, ‘Monumental Visions’, 32; Katsoudas, ‘The Media’, 189; Pennanen, ‘Greek Music
Policy’, passim.
[47] Described in detail by Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 88–91. See also Machaira, Neolaia tes 4es
Augoustou, 134–9.
[48] Machaira, Neolaia tes 4es Augoustou, 134.
[49] Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 223, 140.
[50] Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 90, 223, 143.
[51] Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 89.
[52] The Pedion tou Areos is a public park area in Athens, which was named after the Roman
Campus Martius. Markatou, ‘Archaeology and Greekness’, 314.
[53] Metaxas, Prosopiko tou hemerologio, 299.
[54] See also Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 221, 101.
[55] See further Hamilakis, The Nation and Its Ruins, 179, 180, 185–7.
[56] Karaı̈skake, ‘Vathytero pneuma’, 1074. Despite the regime’s repeated references to prominent
ancient Athenians, Metaxas devoted much more attention to the Spartan fighting spirit and to
its model of social austerity. After Hitler, he saw Sparta as the embodiment of ancient military
and political discipline, civic unity and territorial integrity. Modern fascist-totalitarian regimes
have extolled these ideals, along with the Spartan prototype of obedient subjects ruled by a
racially ‘superior’ elite class. Sparta stood opposed to the political model for more extensive
popular participation, the Classical Athenian democracy. On Metaxas’s selective use of ancient
Greek history, his predilection for Sparta, and his contempt for Athenian democracy, see
recently Carabott, ‘Monumental Visions’, 30–31; Hamilakis, The Nation and Its Ruins, 29,
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176–8, 195, 202; Machaira, Neolaia tes 4es Augoustou, 144–5; Petrakis, The Metaxas Myth, 155.
See also Clogg, ‘Ideology of the ‘‘Revolution’’’, 54. On the widespread, uncritical admiration for
Sparta in the 1930s, see further Cartledge, ‘What Have the Spartans Done for Us?’, 169–70. The
military takeover of 1967 revived the discourse of the Colonels as Spartans who sought a social
and political asceticism. See, for instance, Joe Alex Morris jr., ‘Specter of Ancient Drama Haunts
Cradle of Democracy’, Los Angeles Times, 30 April 1967.
[57] For more on the invention of the ‘tradition’ of Greek national celebrations, see Karakasidou,
‘Protocol and Pageantry’, 224–8, 231. The personal memoirs of Leonidas Petrakes open with
the author’s childhood memories of the pageantry and festivities organized by the town of
Sparta, on the occasion of the anniversary date of Metaxas’s regime on 4 August 1939.
Petrakes, Tote pou to chioni epese, 2. See also Pennanen, ‘Greek Music Policy’, 106–7.
[58] Mandell, The Nazi Olympics, 286.
[59] See anon., ‘Aporiai’ and ‘Demarchos’, Hestia, 15 September 1920.
[60] For further context to the centennial celebration of the Greek state, see Markatou,
‘Archaeology and Greekness’. On page 313, Markatou includes a newspaper photograph of the
grand Minoan tableau (her figure 3). Venizelos and later Metaxas drew extensively from the
structure and aesthetics of the mass events organized by the Lyceum of Greek Women and
held at the Panathenaic Stadium. It was the Lyceum that first introduced the Minoan age in
the parade of the ages of Greek history, in its ‘great national festival’ held in 1926 at the
Panathenaic Stadium. The ‘Bloodless Sacrifice’, too, was a creation of the Lyceum. In 1930, it
was again the Lyceum that organized the parade of heroes and heroines of the Greek War of
Independence in the same stadium. I owe the above data to Eleni Fournaraki. See further
Fournaraki, in this volume.
[61] For this document, see now Decker, Praeludium Olympicum.
[62] Quoted by Diamantes, ‘Protasis’, 309, 311, 313 [quotation], 324.
[63] Quoted by Diamantes, ‘Protasis’, 324.
[64] The weighty symbolic connection between the Greek pageantry of cultural continuity and the
Olympic ideal was, of course, the guiding theme of the opening ceremony of the 2004
Olympic Games in Athens. The sequence of mainly ancient historical tableaux was designed
by Demetres Papaioannou. For a recent scholarly approach to this twenty-first-century
reincarnation of the Greek national continuity theme, see Hamilakis, The Nation and Its
Ruins, 1–7, 203–4; Mackridge, ‘Cultural Difference as National Identity’, 310–11.
[65] On these topics, see the first chapters of Kitroeff, Wrestling with the Ancients, and Young, The
Modern Olympics. See also Koulouri, Sport et société bourgeoise.
[66] Skopetea, To ‘Protypo Vasileio’, 215.
[67] Herzfeld, Portrait of a Greek Imagination, 119.
[68] Sontag, ‘Fascinating Fascism’, 91–92.
[69] Siegfried Kracauer, the cultural historian, critic and sociologist who fled Germany when the
Nazis came to power, observed in his famous essay, ‘The Mass Ornament’:
The unlimited importance ascribed to the physical cannot be derived from the
limited value it deserves. Such importance can be explained only by the alliance
that organized physical education maintains with the establishment . . . .
Physical training expropriates people’s energy, while the production and
mindless consumption of the ornamental patterns divert them from the
imperative to change the reigning order. Reason can gain entrance only with
difficulty when the masses it ought to pervade yield to sensations afforded by
the godless mythological cult. The latter’s social meaning is equivalent to that of
the Roman circus games, which were sponsored by those in power. (‘The Mass
Ornament’, 85; italics as in the original)
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[70] The term ethnikophrosyne had its roots in the repressive anticommunism of the Greek Civil
War era and its aftermath. Voglis, Becoming a Subject, 66, 101, 227–8; Close, Greece since 1945,
12.
[71] Papadopoulos, ‘21e Apriliou’, published in To Vema, 21 April 1968.
[72] See also anonymous, ‘Hailing to Byzantium’, The Economist, 21 August 1982, 39.
[73] Connerton, How Societies Remember, 42–43.
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150

Fanning the Flame: Transformations of

the 2004 Olympic Flame
Eleana Yalouri
This article highlights some snapshots of the ‘social life’ of the 2004 Olympic flame and
discusses the transformations of its meanings from the moment of its lighting until its
extinction at the closing ceremony, as it circulates through various social contexts and
within multiple areas of practice and discourse. By following the flame’s oscillation
between the tangible and the transcendental, the metaphorical and the metaphysical,
the ephemeral and the eternal, one can explore its dynamic participation in Olympic
affairs, its involvement in negotiations of power and its adaptability to different
personal, national or international histories, fantasies, experiences or expectations. Its
emotive power owes to this malleability as well as to the multiplicity of sometimes
contradictory meanings and values which are layered, recycled or transformed
throughout its life.
Introduction
Every four years, when the world gets caught up in the fever of the Olympic Games,
the Olympic flame becomes the protagonist of a long journey. Stories, discourses and
claims accompany, feed and strengthen it along its journey. Members of the
International Olympic Committee, politicians, torchbearers with tears welling up in
their eyes, promising athletes and journalists invoke its assistance in order to
interpret, criticize and articulate the present.
In order to comprehend the attraction exercised by the touring flame, its persistent
and universal appeal as well as the emotion it seems able to stir among very different
people, we may have to seek not its ‘deeper’ meaning or an ultimate truth behind it,
but instead to explore its malleability and its capacity to become transformed,
multiply interpreted and experienced, used and adjusted to different historical and
socio-political situations.
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Bille and Sørensen write about an ‘anthropology of light and luminosity’ which
could have as an object of study not only the different experiences of light, but also its
dynamics, its use, manipulation and ‘orchestration’ as a physical and mental
phenomenon by different cultures. [1] Light for them is integral to the formation of
social space and intervenes in everyday social practices by revealing or concealing
aspects of the material or social life in conscious and unconscious ways. In this
article, I attempt to highlight some snapshots of the ‘social action’ of the Olympic
light through the study of the Olympic flame. More specifically, I attempt to reveal
some moments in the ‘biography’ of the Olympic flame of 2004 and the
transformations of its meanings in Greece from the moment of its lighting until its
extinction at the closing ceremony. [2]
The Olympic flame as part of the ‘Greek classical heritage’ is often celebrated in
Greek national rhetoric and practices, claiming, and seeking to establish, a sense of
‘continuity with the ‘golden age’ of the classical past. However, the flame’s
construction as ‘heritage’ does not only involve Greek state officials and intellectuals,
but various social groups and other agents who may transform, appropriate and
internalize the national discourse, reverse it, or re-deploy it in their everyday lives.
What is more, national interpretations of ‘heritage’ exist within a much wider and
complex network of international, national, local and personal interpretations which
meet, interweave, clash and transform in an ever changing present. The ‘social life’ of
the flame participates in the social life of different people. The flame is defined and
transformed, as it circulates through different social contexts and within multiple
areas of practice and discourse. By tracing its mobility, and by following the variable
meanings attributed to it at different times and places, the flame can guide us in the
exploration of aspects of the social relationships and the negotiations of power in
which it is involved or plays a leading part. This article is based on what I experienced
in Athens during the summer of 2004 by watching TV, reading the press, talking to
people and participating in the public sentiment generated by the preparations for
the Athens Olympics, but also on research on oral, written and visual material
collected before and after that time. [3]
Flame Rituals
The symbolism of fire has been used as part of the national festivals that developed
throughout Europe as early as the French Revolution [4] and it was also used as an
element of the celebrations accompanying the first modern Olympic Games in
Athens. [5] However, the idea for the torch relay and the lighting ceremony of the
Olympic flame was properly established only later in Germany, under the regime and
ideology of Nazism. [6] For Greece, these ceremonies acquired a new meaning as they
offered the possibility for Greece to become the permanent starting point of the
modern Olympic Games ceremonies and to ascribe the country a respectable position
in the Olympic ritual, confirming thus the Games’ ‘Greekness’: [7] the flame is always
lit in Olympia before it sets out for its journey, in a ceremony ‘reviving’ ancient
152

beliefs and practices, thus linking the ancient Olympic Games with modern Greece.
[8] It is not a coincidence that the lighting of the 2004 Olympic flame was arranged to
coincide with Greece’s Independence day as was the case for the opening of the 1896
Olympic Games, thus creating connections between ‘ancient Greek glory’ and
contemporary national claims and myths. [9]
Coming Under Fire

Although Greece has never been colonized in the literal sense, it has experienced
direct foreign interference in its political system and life since the beginning of its life
as a nation-state. [10] More recently, Herzfeld has coined the term ‘crypto-
colonialism’ to describe the colonial relations of power that have shaped the
relationship between Greece and Western Europe. [11] Seen under this light, the
rejection of past Greek attempts to host the Olympic Games was perceived by many
in Greece as an ‘international humiliation’, reinforcing the profile of Greek culture as
an ‘underdog culture’ [12] and as a loss of control over Greece’s ‘legitimate heritage’.
[13] Over the years, bidding for the hosting of the Olympic Games became part of
other Greek struggles for the restitution of Greece’s classical heritage, such as the
Parthenon marbles: The International Olympic Committee’s decision to grant Greece
the right to host the 2004 Olympics was considered to be of great importance to
Greece, and it also strengthened efforts to have the new Acropolis museum ready to
accommodate the ‘expatriated’ Parthenon marbles by the year 2004. [14] The idea
was that Hellenism would thus be celebrated in its complete restitution. Therefore,
the campaign of Athens 2004 had promised that these Games would be ‘Our Games’
(Figure 1), the Olympics which would ‘return to a human scale’ and would be ‘a
celebration of happiness and fraternisation’.
However, in 2004 Athens had to face quite a different reality than that of previous
organizers of Olympic Games (Figure 2). The terrorist attacks of September 11 and
the subsequent attack of March 11 in Madrid had led to international demands for
unprecedented security measures, the installation of CCTV cameras and a blimp
loaded with aerial surveillance equipment and referred to by the locals as ‘Big
Brother’, constantly recording the whereabouts of people in Athens.
This intrusion in people’s lives, coupled with the hardships of living in a city under
construction, with drivers being lost in the ever-changing diversions, had caused
indignation and frustration. [15]
Reports in the international mass media did not help the situation. Athens’
Olympic preparations had been jokingly billed as ‘the modern Greek ruins’ – quoting
from The Independent (7 August 2004). Security at Athens had been coined ‘Greek
Mythology’ – in the LA Times (6 February 2001). Athens had also been described as ‘a
dump’, its transport system as ‘on a par with provincial cities of Algeria’ and its
democracy as ‘bogus’ – all quotes from the New York Times (The Times 28 May 2004
quoting The New York Times). International press abounded in sarcastic comments
and references to the problematic condition of Greece in the face of the huge
153

Figure 1. Source: Action Images.
Figure 2. Cartoons commenting on the presence of armed security forces in Athens. Left:
The man looking like the Hollywood stereotype of secret agent says: ‘Well, these are the
best and most secure Olympic Games’ and the intimidated sports-fan replies: ‘you took
the words out of my mouth’ (by Ilias Makris). Right: the person with the starting gun is
surrounded by armed security forces (by Andreas Petroulakis). Source: I Kathimerini 13
July 2004 and I Kathimerini 1 August 2004.
enterprise of organizing the Games. [16] On various occasions, such comments and
incidents were interpreted in Greece as ill-intentioned attempts to misrepresent the
country, alluding to Orientalist models that presented Greeks as an inept, inefficient
and lazy Mediterranean people. [17] So Athens had come into the spotlight, but
not in the way the 2004 organizers had promised. On the contrary, it had become
the target of international surveillance and criticism. The Olympic Games, the
Greek cultural heritage which was coming ‘back home’, was coming back with a
cost. [18]
154

The Touring Flame

The torch relay has always been invested with those meanings which the nation-state
hosting the Games at the time wishes to put into international circulation. The choice
of routes, runners and symbolic acts accompanying the torch relays is made so as to
project important figures and ‘golden’ moments of its national historic importance,
[19] so as to mark the geographical and metaphoric ‘topos’ of the nation and legitimize
geopolitical and national interests. [20] Under the unfavourable conditions I described
earlier, the Athens 2004 torch relay attempted to once more project Greece as ‘the place
that gave the light of civilization to the Western world’. It would revitalize the image of
Greece abroad and it would reunite the world again under Greek auspices (Figures 3
and 4). For this reason, a torch relay of epic dimensions was organized, in which the
flame would tour the world passing through Africa, Latin America as well as all cities
that had hosted Olympic Games in the past. ‘Greece itself travels in the airplane that
transports the flame, in the biggest effort of promotion that ever took place’, were the
words of Yanna Angelopoulou Daskalaki, president of the organizing committee of the
2004 Olympics (Eleftherotypia 3 June 2004). ‘We take our country’s sun on a journey
around the entire world’ was the more romantic interpretation of Maria Hors (To
Vima, 25 March 2004), who was at the time 83 years of age and involved for the
Figure 3. Advertisement of the 2004 torch relay by the Olympic Games Organizing Committee
Athens 2004. The motto says ‘Our Flame Unifies the World. The First Global Torch Relay’.
155

Figure 4. The title says: ‘The Flame Unifies. Message of Peace to Five Continents’. Source:
Athens.04 (10) April 2004.
twentieth time in the lighting ceremony in Olympia. [21] The design of the torch
itself – inspired by the leaf of an olive tree, the symbol of peace and prosperity that, in
Greek mythology, goddess Athena gifted the city of Athens – was also indicative of the
role Greece wanted to project vis-à-vis the others: In the words of its designer Andreas
Varotsos (himself born in a village near Olympia), ‘through the torch, the dialogue
among peoples should be developed. The olive tree bears in it the entire Greece and
sends messages of peace [to the entire world]’ (I Kathimerini 16 January 2002). The
torch was seen as a material expression of Greekness which was activated once more in
order to embark on its ‘civilizing’ work. [22]
The Greek media reported triumphantly on the enthusiastic welcoming of the flame
around the world with the Greek Diaspora playing a leading part in the relevant
celebrations as well as in the diffusion of the Greek light which was transported from
‘the homeland’ to the rest of the world. According to Bille and Sørensen, the
orchestration of light may be used as a means for the creation of social inclusion. [23]
In this case the official discourse of the 2004 Games referred to the ‘[re]unification of
the world under the light of the Olympic flame’ and used inclusive rhetoric offering to
share the [ancient] Greek light with the rest of the world as defined by the torch relay.
The intent seemed to be to include. However, the reliance on the boundaries of the
torch relay also had an excluding side: it is well-known for example that the efforts to
transfer the Olympic flame through the occupied territories of Cyprus did not
materialize, because according to the then president of Cyprus Tassos Papadopoulos
‘the Turkish-Cypriots wanted to welcome the Olympic flame as if they were a separate
independent country’. [24] The flame in its journey through various countries
articulates and often legitimizes local political expediencies and negotiations.
156

The orchestration of the torch relay of 2004 attempted to demonstrate the presence
and dynamism of Hellenism and to expand its limits in space, but also in time, in the
form of memory. The ‘symbolic capital’ of the ancient Greek past was entering once
more into international circulation linking the past to the present, and reminding
bystanders ‘who the legitimate inheritors of the Olympic idea’ are, and what ‘the
debt’ of the Western world is. [25] A comment under the title ‘the flame of continuity
in children’s hands’ in the newspaper I Kathimerini 9 November 2003 is revealing in
that respect. The comment concerns a child’s drawing of a young torch bearer which
became the cover of a diary published by the Friends of the Melina Merkouri
Foundation and the Ministry of Culture:
What could be more appropriate for the young generation, the standard bearers for
keeping up the memory of everything that Greece has offered to humankind, than
this little torch bearer who with a quick step heads to light the torch with the
Olympic flame in the altar of Athens 2004, the continuity of the Olympic Games in
their birthplace.
The Olympic flame here becomes a conveyor of memory which certifies not only the
long Greek presence and ‘continuity’, but also reminds people of its contribution to the
history of the (western European) world. [26] In the first modern Olympic Games, in
Athens in 1896, the term ‘revival’ was coined implying that it was an institution that
had risen from its ashes in the same land that was once inhabited by ancient Greeks.
[27] In 2004, the recurring term ‘homecoming’ also sought to establish a sense of
duration linking ancient and modern lands and peoples and legitimizing the
‘Greekness’ of the Games (Figure 5).
Exchanging Gunfire
The course of the 2004 flame may have aspired to unify the world under the auspices
of Greece, as the relevant advertising motto suggested, but the flame divided, rather
than united, the Greek public opinion: [28] the Greek print media were full of
metaphors representing the Olympic flame as ‘burning a hole in the housewife’s
shopping basket’ (Rizospastis 31 July 2004) (Figure 6), ‘as Greece catching fire once
the Olympic flame goes out’ (Ta Nea 28–29 August 2004), or the Olympic Games
burdening a country unprepared to technologically and financially afford such an
enterprise (Figure 7). Apart from those who looked forward to the ambitious
enterprise of bringing the Olympics ‘back home’, there were many of those who
condemned it as a nationalist undertaking from which very few would profit. [29]
Public contestation and protest against the Athens 2004 Olympics was quite well
organized and revolved around several issues: [30] the downgrading of the natural
and architectural environment, the policies and politics of security, the policing and
violation of citizens’ rights, the connection of the Olympics to the interests of
multinational corporations, the labour accidents during the construction of Olympic
infrastructure, the indoctrination of the youths with the ideals of Olympism and
157

Figure 5. Source: Geka, P. (ed.) Olympiakes Maties [Olympic Glimpses] Athens: Ellinika
Grammata.
voluntarism and the connection of sport with doping. [31] The movement of the so-
called ‘non-voluntarism’ in particular publicized its views and declared, among
others, that ‘it cannot see why Greece should spend ‘‘four times the annual budget for
secondary education for 20 days of security for the Games’’’. [32] At the same time,
the prospect of Greece hosting the Olympics also raised the moral dilemma of
whether Greece, as ‘the legitimate successor’ of the ancient Olympic Games, wrongly
accepted on its soil the modern Games which had become a demonstration and re-
enforcement of commercial and political prowess (Figure 8). [33] Graffiti on a bridge
opposite Nerantziotissa subway station in Athens paraphrased the official celebratory
motto ‘the Olympic Games are returning to their birthplace’ into ‘let the Olympics
die in the place where they were born’. [34]
Despite earlier doubts, criticisms and moral dilemmas, the organization of the
Games and the torch relay went ahead in Greece with the support of giant
international and Greek corporations (Figure 9), while Athens 2004 invited people ‘to
emulate the Olympic spirit by buying authentic Greek products’ (Figure 10).
Torch bearers with whom I talked were quite critical of the commodification of the
Olympic flame as they personally experienced it in 2004 when ‘the cameras were all
over the athlete not allowing him to breathe’ or when they had to pay to keep the torch
they held, something that had never happened in past Olympic Games, a fact that
demonstrated to them that ‘the torch relay, is after all, a well-oiled business’. A torch
158

Figure 6. The man says ‘O Apollo, the vegetables are burning a hole in my pocket!’ The
arrow points towards the Easter Market (by Diogenis Kamenos). Source: Eleftherotypia 1
April 2004.
Figure 7. On the left, we see the official logo of the Athens torch relay. On the right, the
torch relay going around the globe weighs on a person in a traditional Greek dress. The
text says: ‘The logo of the torch relay / . . . the hole of it’ (by Ilias Makris). Source: I
Kathimerini 12 August 2004.
159

Figure 8. Cartoons by Diogenis Kamenos and Ilias Makris. Source: Eleftherotypia 4 June
2004 and I Kathimerini 6 June 2004.
bearer, who was an employee of the International Olympic Committee in Athens,

described a segment of the flame’s journey during which ‘two cars representing Coca-
Cola and Samsung respectively preceded the torch bearers throwing pins, flags as well
as Coca-Cola and Samsung t-shirts’. ‘I didn’t like that at all’ he said.
‘I felt out of it. Because money dominates everything – it is horrible. Even though
we used to accuse the Americans [of commodifying the Games], especially during
the Olympics of Los Angeles and of Atlanta, why ‘did we then forget about all that
[and did the same]’? [35]
In fact some of the torch bearers became the object of the same critique they
themselves exercised: ‘In some towns’ says a torchbearer coming from a village near
Olympia, people
booed us because they believed that the torch relay and we ourselves were living
high on the backs of the common people: When we reached Agrinio, for example,
and as Mercedes was our sponsor they commented ‘everything is Mercedes, you
will be living well.
In Olympia, a village, which in the words of a tour guide, was constructed for the
sake of tourism, the paradox of commercializing the same Olympic heritage and
imagery that people want to protect is particularly poignant. Many inhabitants who
consider themselves as guardians of the Olympic spirit and are especially critical
towards the commodification of Olympism, do not hesitate to exhibit their torches as
well as photos documenting their participation to former torch relays in their hotels
or tourist shops in order to attract tourists. For example, Pavlos, [36] who was also a
torch bearer in the Montreal Olympics of 1976 explains:
To tell a Canadian that I was the kid who transferred the flame for Montreal, your
city, is something good and they like it. This for me is something positive, when
you remind those who came from so far away what you did for them.
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Figure 9. Source: From the Official Programme of the Closing Ceremony of the XXVIII
Olympiad.
We realize that the reminder of ‘the debt’ that the Western world has to the
country that gave birth to the Olympics acquires a more personal colour here, as it is
translated into the Canadian tourists’ ‘debt’ to Pavlos.
Classical antiquity, which in this case is represented by the Olympic flame, is
considered as ‘inalienable wealth’ which needs to remain separate from any financial
transactions. [37] ‘The symbolic capital’ of classical antiquity may be exchanged for
economic capital. However, the exchange remains under cover or ‘euphemised’.
‘Classical heritage is not for sale’. [38] As Pavlos says,
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Figure 10. Source: The front page of an advertising publication of the Organizing
Committee Athens 2004.
I am in agreement with development, I am a businessman, ok, the world goes on,

but we cannot trade even the idea of Olympism. Yes, we do need the money, but
everything should remain discreet.
The discourse surrounding the commercialization of the flame falls into a wider
context of negotiation between international, national and local institutions. As an
employee of the International Olympic Academy in Olympia, observes: ‘most people
in Olympia believe that the flame belongs to them’. If, for Athens 2004, the flame of
Greece unites the world, for them it is Olympia’s light which unites the people as a
local newspaper declares (Figure 11). But although the municipality of Olympia
defines itself as the guardian of the ancient Olympic heritage, it has not managed to
secure a more active participation in the Olympic activities, including the lighting
ceremony. [39] On the contrary, the ceremony is organized by the Greek Olympic
Committee, while the flame is legally under the authority of the International
Olympic Committee. In 1984, on the occasion of the Greek mobilization against the
commodification of the Olympic Games by the organizers of the Los Angeles
Olympics, the municipality of Olympia took the initiative to vigorously intervene and
denounce the commercialization of the flame. As a consequence, the lighting
ceremony had to be performed in haste, with no audience and under significant
police surveillance in order to avoid problems. [40] The villagers have not forgotten
that event:
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Figure 11. Source: Proini tis Defteras 1 April 1996.
When you are born in this place, says Pavlos, you love this event and you do not
allow anyone to cheapen it. The worst thing that could have happened, did happen.
They took the flame by helicopter from inside the stadium.
The flame, however, does not only constitute a means for the projection of local
identities, but it also becomes the object of contestation between them. The history of
the torch relay itself is linked with an antagonistic disposition between various
villages in the area. As a man from Olympia in his 50s today remembers:
At those times they took kids from the secondary school, mainly from Olympia, to
run [for the torch relay]. Then the other villages near Pyrgos saw that and said why
should an Olympian run through our village and not us? And this is how local
torchbearers began running also through Pelopio, Platanos and the other villages
and the Gymnastics Committee of the prefecture became responsible for the
selection of the torch bearers.
The ‘Sacred’ Flame

The commodification of the flame and of the torch relay is often discussed in contrast
to the ‘sacredness’ and ‘the respect’ they deserve. Although there are people who
consider the lighting ceremony ‘ludicrous’, [41] several informants who had been
present at the lighting ceremony report on the ‘sacredness of the moment’, ‘the awe’
they felt, ‘the other dimension’ in which they found themselves when the priestesses
called upon Apollo’s assistance under the sound of Maria Hors’ drum. In this way they
reproduce the official discourse about the ‘sacredness’ of the flame. [42] But this
sacredness is conceived in different ways: [43] For Irene, for example, the lighting ritual
163

made the landscape ‘vibrate with soul’ and made her shiver when she saw the glow of
the flame. She then sensed a supernatural power which she linked with the invisible
presence of ancestors who ‘were as if they were looking at us but without being seen’.
[44] On the other hand, a hotel owner in Olympia, referring to the lighting ceremony,
declared:
Maybe because I am local I have always been moved by this ritual, knowing that my
village will be made known internationally. When the lighting ceremony happens
in the ancient site where we have grown, one feels awe.
Another local inhabitant, an owner of a tourist shop, explained that
by experiencing all this procedure which is not a matter of one day – the priestesses,
the actresses are coming here two weeks in advance to rehearse – one feels an
emotion, how to explain this, a sense of pride or happiness, because [the flame]
originates from here.
If for some Olympians ‘the sacredness’ of the moment of the lighting is connected
to the meaning the flame has for their hometown, for others it is linked to its national
role. For an employee of the International Olympic Committee, who comes from a
different village of the Peloponnese the emotion accompanying ‘the sacred moment’
of the lighting is due to the fact that ‘a small state, a small country like Greece, is
organizing such [great] things, such [great] games’.
The discourse revolving around ‘sacredness’ seems often pervaded by a Christian
ethic which manifests itself on various occasions: [45] the afternoon before Easter
night in 2004, in expectation of the Holy Light from Jerusalem, a journalist reported
from the airport: ‘At this very moment the Holy Flame, excuse me I meant the Holy
Light, is arriving’. [46] Apart from the journalist who by a slip of the tongue seemed
to confuse the Holy Light with the Olympic flame, there were other cases of similar
confusion. [47] For example, a photograph from the opening ceremony of the Athens
Olympics which appeared in the first page of an Athenian newspaper was
accompanied by the phrase ‘come receive Light’. This phrase which comes from
the Resurrection liturgy in this context refers to the Olympic flame. The same phrase
accompanies also a photograph from the welcoming ceremony of the flame at
the Olympic stadium which appears in the official journal of the Organising
Committee of the Olympic Games (Figure 12).
This recurring confusion between flame and Holy Light became the object of
criticism from certain quarters. For example, a teacher from Kyparissia, a town in the
vicinity of Olympia describes the welcoming ceremony of the flame as follows: ‘The
priestess was followed by a representative of the municipality who praised ‘‘the one
God who created this world. An ecclesiastical choir followed, who sang Hail
Gladdening Light’’’. Later songs by Odysseas Elytis were heard as well as music by Mikis
Thodorakis and finally, the performance ended with traditional dances by traditionally
dressed men and women. It was a cocktail that was hard to digest. In what capacity are
164

Figure 12. Source: To Ethnos tis Kyriakis 15 August 2004 and Athens .04, 10 (2004): 6–7.
we welcoming the flame? As lovers of antiquity? As Orthodox Christians? As the bearers

of tradition (which one of all?)? As admirers of modern Greek poetry and composition?
As irrelevant, uneducated, uninformed and indifferent individuals who just went there
because everyone else did?’
The confusion between the Olympic flame and the Holy Light may have been based
more deeply in the history of the Greek nation-state, which has always projected classical
antiquity and Byzantine orthodoxy as the main pillars of Greek identity. The
‘sacredness’ of antiquity is internalized through the sacredness of Orthodoxy and they
both fuse through a series of associations. The ideological context which connects the
Parthenon with St Sophia as the two pillars of Greek national identity also allows the
connection between the flame and the Holy Light. [48] At the same time, it similarly
shapes expressions of national euphoria, like for example, in the case of Greek university
students who, when the Olympic flame arrived in Paris, started making the sign of the
cross in its wake and cheering for Greece, maybe also because the Euro 2004 football
game between France and Greece was to take place the same night (Eleftherotypia 26
June 2004). [49]
The Flame on the Firing Line

The discourse surrounding the flame’s ‘sacredness’ requires that the flame stays
‘unharmed’ from any ‘polluting’ elements. This, however, has not always proved to
be possible. An event that was seen as threatening ‘to pollute the sacredness’ of the
flame was the involvement of two otherwise extremely popular Greek athletes in a
doping scandal, the news about which broke out on the eve of the 2004 Olympic
opening ceremony: before then, the Sydney Olympic 200-metre champion
Konstantinos Kenteris, and the Sydney 100-metre silver medallist Katerina Thanou
had both achieved heroic status in Greece, and a ship, a tramway, an airplane and an
athletic centre had been named after Kenteris. [50]
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On the 12th of August 2004 WADA, the Medical Committee of the

International Committee against Doping, was looking for the two Greek athletes
to subject them to random doping spot checks. After several excuses, which
presented the two athletes as being away from Greece and therefore unavailable
for the doping tests, the International Olympic Committee invited the two
athletes to defend themselves. They, however, alleged that they were involved in
an accident on their way to the appointment with the International Olympic
Committee, and got transferred to a hospital in Athens. The news of the two
athletes having dodged the doping tests, and the means they used to try and
escape the scandal, caused a tremendous stir in the Greek public which was
already full of scepticism towards the Olympics, but also full of anticipation that
Kenteris and Thanou would almost certainly add to the Greek total count of
medals. The front pages of the Athenian newspapers of 13 August demonstrated
the shock to the public opinion: ‘Kosta – Katerina, tell us the truth’ one
newspaper demanded; ‘Shock with Kenteris – Thanou’ another one announced-
‘Hours of Anguish for Kenteris – Thanou’; ‘Anger and Anguish in the Maximou
[the Greek President’s] Premises’.
It has been argued that international sports constitute ‘the most important form of
metaphoric war between nations. [51] The parallels between sport and war can also
be evoked by the custom of the Greek state to promote the Greek Olympic winners to
the rank of honorary lieutenants and officers. Kenteris and Thanou, as happens with
all Greek Olympic winners, had been appointed to the Greek army, thus ensuring a
well-endowed public service job: the salary and all the rights of permanent military
staff. Greek newspapers did not fail to mention the immense privileges of champions
and the material incentives involved in the winning of an Olympic medal. [52] ‘Greek
tax payers pay dearly for all the medals the Greek Olympic athletes win’. [53] They
receive the highest lump sum bonus from the state budget, and state companies
become their big sponsors. If the promise of Athens 2004, namely that the Athens’
Olympics would return to a human scale and become conveyors of ‘the pure and
true’ Olympic spirit, was broken before, this time the blow was coming from the
highly honoured ‘officers’ who had betrayed the country and had exposed the Greek
‘dirty laundry’ to the world. [54] As a matter of fact, Katerina Thanou had been the
athlete chosen to light up the flame in the altar of the Panathenaic Stadium in the
ceremony celebrating the beginning of the flame’s travel around the world. Kenteris,
on the other hand, had been chosen to light up the altar in the Olympic stadium
during the opening ceremony of the 2004 Olympic Games. Their involvement in the
doping scandal was thus perceived as casting a shadow over the Olympic ritual and in
particular the flame.
Greek newspapers played around with the metaphor of the brightness of the
flame, which was juxtaposed to ‘the dark aspect of sport, the doping’. [55] For
some, despite its glow, the flame had been unable to conceal the [. . .] ‘dark
scenarios’ [regarding the Kenteris-Thanou issue]’, [56] while for others, ‘the flame
threw light to the corruption of doping’ (Ta Nea 14 August 2004).
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In an article criticizing the glorification and the fall of idols in Greece, Nikos
Tzianidis of the newspaper Ta Nea (14 August 2004) hit the nail on its head by saying
that ‘Kostas Kenteris, instead of lighting the altar of our high-mindedness in the
packed stadium, extinguished the flame of an entire people who was warming up its
vocal chords for yells of enthusiasm’.
Non-Greek newspapers also played around with the same metaphor: In an
article entitled ‘Athens flame dimmed as drugs spread a shadow’, James Lawton of
The Independent (13 August 2004) commented that ‘the Olympic flame which will
be lit tonight burns not for the glory of sport but merely to illuminate the
running sore of drug corruption’.
Yet as much as Kenteris’ and Thanou’s deed was perceived as having
‘extinguished the Greek flame’, the opening ceremony of Dimitris Papaioannou
was re-igniting it. Although there were voices criticizing both the opening and the
closing ceremonies, in terms of aesthetics or, because they allegedly reproduced old
time ideological patterns of the nation’s continuity through centuries, the official self-
representation through a high-tech performance of the national Greek ideals had
managed once again to push aside, albeit temporarily, the source of external
embarrassment. The newspapers’ front pages one day after the opening ceremony were
celebrating: ‘The Dream erases the nightmare of Kenteris-Thanou’ (Ta Nea 14–15
August 2004); [57] ‘Greece appears with a new face before the world’ (I Kathimerini 15
August 2004); ‘First golden medal to Greece. The opening ceremony achieved a great
international victory’ (To Vima 15 August 2004); ‘International recognition’ (Express,
15 August 2004). Two different Greeces were juxtaposed to each other: ‘the first of
Dimitris Papaioannou and of the magical premiere. The second one of doping’. [58] In
a relevant cartoon, Papaioannou is presented as a torch bearer, but the Olympic torch
appears here with Olympic rings having replaced the flame (Figure 13) (Ethnos tis
Kyriakis 15 August 2004). The comment accompanying the cartoon reads: ‘He showed
the pure heart of Greece’. Through a play of tropes insinuating an identification
between the flame, the Olympic spirit and the heart of Greece, Papaioannou is
presented here as the real conveyor of the ‘true’ Greek Olympic spirit, which he
allegedly managed to express in its ‘real’ form, free of any polluting and distorting
elements, through his work.
The ‘Active’ Flame

In ancient Greek, Hellenistic, Roman and Western European philosophical thought
‘the light’ is used as a metaphor for ‘truth’, ‘revelation’, ‘wisdom’. [59] This wisdom
leads to associations allowing the employment of the Olympic light in negotiations of
identity based on essentialist approaches to the nation-state, searching for a unique
and fixed ‘essence’ which remains unchangeable throughout centuries.
‘The uniqueness’ of the flame remains a recurring theme in the press as well as in my
informants’ words. It is not a coincidence that all references to the flame are made in the
singular resulting in everyone believing that the flame is one, despite the fact that for
167

Figure 13. Source: Ethnos tis Kyriakis 15 August 2004.
security reasons eight reserve flames are kept (Epsilon 11 July 2004) throughout the
torch relay. For example, in his response to a related question of mine, an employee of
the Committee of the Olympic Games in Olympia was categorical:
The flame is one. When we light it up we keep three or four reserve lamps, just in
case an accident happens and the flame goes off. [What happens then]– won’t we
have any flame? [60] However, the flame is one.
This is the reason why a former torch bearer coming from a village near Olympia
believes that ‘once the flame is lit by the light of the sun in Olympia, it should not be lit
again’, while another one refuses not only to light again the torch he held in order to
show his friends how this works, but also to clean it up after using it at the torch relay.
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The flame can be perceived through the senses although one cannot hold it in one’s
hand. It is materially manifested although it also has an abstract dimension. However,
the boundary between ‘the material’ and ‘the immaterial’ is fluid, [61] a fact that is
manifested also in the way the flame transforms the tangible to the transcendental,
the ‘metaphorical to the metaphysical’. [62] In this context, the flame seems to work
in a way similar to that described by Alfred Gell in his analysis of perfume: Like
perfume, the light ‘escapes’ from the ‘enclosing form’ of the object, ‘but without
leaving the realm of the sensible altogether’. [63] ‘Because it is halfway between thing
and idea’ it almost partakes in the nature of transcendence, while still remaining part
of the world’. [64] This allows the Olympic flame’s transformation and its
adaptability to different needs and situations, while at the same time it implies that
there is a ‘deeper essence’ which never dies but is dormant and revives every four
years to mark, as Gellner would say, the (hosting) ‘nation’s return to the sphere of
politics’. [65]
This ‘deeper spirit’ of the flame often attributes to it characteristics of an
individual, a personality, a (female) gender and a soul. As a consequence, the flame
acquires a life of its own. In quotations from the Greek press, the flame appears to
‘travel together with her sisters [the reserve torches] safely in the back seats of the
airplane’ (Epsilon 11 July 2004). The flame also appears, ‘as a baby, which needs
feeding and care’ (Epsilon 11 July 2004). ‘It spends the night in different places and
visits different people’ (Eleftherotypia 16 July 2004), ‘it is being loved’ or people speak
about it ‘as if it were a dear person’ (Eleftherotypia 9 July 2004), while ‘for the first
time it takes out a return ticket to come back to Athens before the opening of the
2004 Olympics’ (Eleftherotypia 3 June 2004).
These representations of the flame as a person may remind us of Alfred Gell’s
argument that artworks and material objects in general can be ‘agents’. [66] Gell,
in an attempt to overcome the distinction between subject and object which, since
the Enlightenment, have been considered as two opposing categories, projects the
active role that material culture plays in the social lives of people. [67] For him,
objects are not autonomous or free-willed beings like people, but they are ‘agents’
in the sense that people often treat them that way and because they have an effect
on them, creating feelings, etc. in them. At the same time objects can be seen as
extensions of their owners’ agency: people act by channelling aspects of their
personality through things. [68] By producing, exchanging and using objects of
the material world, people construct and define their identities and their roles in
specific contexts. [69]
Viewed in this light, the flame seems indeed to acquire flesh and blood and
participate in people’s lives. It is often thought to convey the ‘immortal spirit’ of the
Games, which allegedly manifests itself in athletes’ achievements and in celebrations,
such as the Athens 2004 opening ceremony. There, the parade of Cycladic, Classical,
Byzantine and modern Greek works of art as representations of great moments in the
Greek history created the illusion of lapse of time that linked ancient Hellas to
modern Greece. [70] But as I have demonstrated elsewhere, ‘the spirit’ of the Games,
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does not mean the same thing to all those who allude to it; it changes forms as it is
defined by different ideologies both within and outside Greece. [71] In the context of
the 2004 Olympic Games, it acquired several unforeseen meanings for people who
became attached to it in variable ways. For example, daily reports from the torch relay
around the world covered by the newspaper Eleftherotypia presented individual torch
bearers who explained the importance the flame held in their lives: for a railway
employee from Seoul who ran for the torch relay on an artificial leg ‘this torch is the
leg I lost’ (Eleftherotypia 8 June 2004). Victims of terrorist attacks claimed that ‘this
flame gave us strength to carry on with our lives’ (Eleftherotypia 7 June 2004); A
Bulgarian businessman ran in the memory of his daughter and left the torch instead
of a candle on his daughter’s grave after the run (Eleftherotypia 8 July 2004).
At the same time, the flame acquired a more autonomous ‘agency’: the
characteristics of ‘a great protagonist’, ‘a head of state’ and ‘a world traveller’ were
attributed to it, as well as that of ‘a person’ who has feelings and participates in
Olympic affairs. At the same time it caused tears, excitement, pride or indignation
when things went wrong. It also appeared to have an opinion on the Olympic and
other happenings in Athens and the world and to send messages to those who are
able to listen. In an article of I Kathimerini of 5 June 2004 we read:
The flame misbehaved and the torch needed a second lighting from the priestess. It
misbehaved and it died out for a moment in the ceremony at the Kallimarmaro
stadium. It also misbehaved in the ceremony before setting out for her travel
around the globe. So could it be that the flame is trying to tell us something with
her stubbornness? Maybe it chooses to die out in such significant moments, to
indicate that her glamour is not as great as we want to believe, neither her
endurance, and as a consequence we should think a little bit more than the
celebratory pomposity allows us.
The misbehaviour of the flame according to the writer should urge us to listen to
what it has to say regarding its excessive use and the complaint it has to express. ‘Fire
is going to fall down and burn us up’ jested a critical observer of the commercialized
2004 torch relay which was broadcast on TV. Indeed, the flame may appear as an
element of inspiration and creativity, but at the same time its destructive and levelling
power is acknowledged (Figure 14) (K 4 July 2004). The ‘creative fire’ can easily be
transformed to ‘destructive fire’, [72] as ironically happened in the summer of 2004
when the celebratory fireworks in Yanna Angelopoulou’s private reception for the
IOC members caused a fire, or when the 2007 wildfires almost destroyed the site of
ancient Olympia, the birthplace of the Olympic flame. The attraction of the flame is
derived to a large extent from its ability to raise a dialectics of contradictory meanings
and concepts. [73] This allows it to become a point of reference in often
contradictory situations and to serve as an ideological umbrella accommodating
opposing discourses and claims. The flame as a firework which serves the self-
aggrandizement of certain individuals or groups, as rounds of gunfire which
are exchanged between opposing forces and ideologies, as a destructive fire or as an
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ever-lasting fire which does not go out but is rekindled every four years; It is
transformed and adapted, it alternates between the tangible and the transcendental,
the ephemeral and the eternal.
Ten-year-old Fotini (Figure 15) blew out the Olympic flame and dropped the
curtain of the 2004 Olympics. But the lantern in the shape of a grain which she held
in her hands insinuated that the light resides inside it, a light which – as opposed to
the ephemeral flame – has a monumental character, fusing national and personal
memories and radiating international values and ideals as well as national claims,
personal histories, fantasies and expectations.
Figure 14. Cartoon by Ilias Makris. Source: K Kathimerini 4 July 2004.
Figure 15. Source: K Kathimerini 5 September 2004.
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Acknowledgements
Some of the information for this research was collected with the help of Vassiliki
Tzachrista, whom I thank warmly. I also thank Frank Hess, Charles Stewart, and the
editors of this volume for their help, and Cleo Gougouli for her comments on an
earlier draft of this article.
Notes
[1] Bille and Sørensen, ‘An Anthropology of Luminosity’.
[2] Kopytoff, ‘The Cultural Biography of Things’.
[3] This article elaborates on an earlier and shorter version of this paper in Greek (Yalouri, ‘I
Floga, to Fos, ta Pyra kai ta Pyrotehnimata’).
[4] Borgers, Olympic Torch Relays, 16.
[5] The 1896 Olympic Games in Athens included floodlights during the opening and closing
ceremonies as well as a torch-bearing parade. In the 1906 intermediary Olympic Games in
Athens the illuminations were repeated while thousands of soldiers bearing flame torches ran
through the city centre. The Olympic flame was lit up inside the Olympic stadium of
Amsterdam in 1928 as well as in the 1932 Los Angeles Olympic Games. In other words, the
official establishment of the torch relay by the 1936 Berlin Olympic Games was the result of a
process that had originated many years earlier (Tzachrista, ‘The Olympic Torch Run’, 106–107).
[6] As George Mosse (The Nationalization of the Masses) has shown, the flame has been one of the
most important symbols of German nationalism as early as the beginning of the 19th century.
It ‘symbolized light over darkness, the sun as against the night.’ It reflected the mystical forces
of the life-bringing sun which gave men strength and vitality. To the Nazis it meant
‘purification’, symbolized brotherly community and served to remind party members of the
‘eternal life process’ (Mosse, The Nationalization of the Masses). This extensive use of the flame
in rituals organised by the Nazi regime caused several discussions in Greece on the occasion of
the 2004 Olympics. These revolved around the silencing of the Nazi origins of the torch relay
as the product of a totalitarian ideology so as to avoid any staining of its present meaning
(Koulouri, ‘I Alitheia tis Olympiakis Flogas’; see also Eleftherotypia 21 March 2004).
[7] The response of the Hellenic Olympic Committee to the initiative of the organizing
committee of the Berlin Games was enthusiastic: ‘. . . Greece is summoned after two and a half
thousand years, to give the light of its superior civilization to the whole world. . . . Greece
created the Olympic Games in antiquity. In Greece the modern Olympic Games were held. In
this way, Greece proves that it continues to believe in the ideals of the Olympic spirit. . . .
Greeks, help us to convey the Olympic light’ (Tzachrista, ‘The Olympic Torch Run’, 108).
[8] Koulouri ‘I Alitheia tis Olympiakis Flogas’.
[9] Yalouri ‘When the New World meets the Ancient’.
[10] Yalouri The Acropolis, 82; cf. Tziovas ‘I Dytiki Fantasiosi tou Ellinismou kai i Anazitisi gia to
Yper-ethniko’.
[11] Herzfeld, ‘The Absent Presence’. Herzfeld writes: ‘Although the German philologists and art
historians who generated the neoclassical model of Greek (and more generally European)
culture were not themselves military colonizers, they were doing the ideological work of the
project of European world hegemony. While much recent literature has been devoted to the
analysis of that project in the form of colonialism, I want here to initiate discussion of a rather
specific variety – or perhaps it is an offshoot – of that phenomenon. I shall call it crypto-
colonialism and define it as the curious alchemy whereby certain countries, buffer zones
172

between colonized lands and those as yet untamed, were compelled to acquire their political
independence at the expense of massive economic dependence, this relationship being
articulated in the iconic guise of aggressively national culture fashioned to suit foreign models.
Such countries were and are living paradoxes: they are nominally independent, but that
independence comes at the price of a sometimes humiliating form of effective dependence’
(Herzfeld, Ibid., 900–901).
[12] Diamantouros, ‘Greek Political Culture in Transition’.
[13] Yalouri, The Acropolis, 86; Yalouri, ‘Between the Local and the Global’. See also Yalouri,
‘National Experiences of International Sports’.
[14] This is not the only time when the consideration of both the Olympic Games and the
Parthenon marbles as part of the same ‘Greek legitimate heritage’ has led to the mobilization
of one to assist cases of contestation of the other. For example, in 2008, Voula Patoulidou
the 1992 Olympic sprint gold medalist, suggested that Greece should consent to deliver the
Olympic flame for the 2012 London Olympics, only in exchange to the return of the
Parthenon marbles to Greece (Syrigos, ‘Anyparxia Politikis’).
[15] Yalouri, ‘National Experiences of International Sports’.
[16] Some revealing titles of articles that appeared in the press during the preparation of the Olympic
Games at Athens were: ‘Greek tragedy or farce? Athens is still a city of ruins, but now some ruins
are new’, Times 13 April 2004; ‘Athens prays for Zorba to rescue its ‘shambolic’ Olympic
Games’, The Guardian 13 July 2003. See Zepou, Athens Through Hoops. There are also similar
examples coming from Australia: the newspaper Age noted ironically that ‘the torch relay is as
an ambitious undertaking as the roof, with which the Greeks managed to cover half of their
Stadium’ (Michailidis ‘I Diki mou Patrida . . .’). In a similar way during a radio program two
broadcasters were discussing their family problems and when one of them said that he cannot
stand his mother in law, the other suggested to send her to Athens, where if she is not eliminated
by a terrorist, she will be eliminated by the hardships of this unbearable city’ (ibid). Finally the
Australian government after an explosion outside a police station in Athens, instructed the
Australian citizens to avoid visiting Greece during the Games (ibid).
[17] cf. Tzanelli, ‘Giving Gifts’.
[18] Yalouri, ‘National Experiences of International Sports’.
[19] Borgers, Olympic Torch Relays, 30–32.
[20] Leontis, Topographies of Hellenism.
[21] I thank Marika Rombou Levidi for this information. To have participated twenty times at her
age is possible as the flame for the winter Olympics is also lit in Olympia.
[22] Varotsos’ declared wish to convey through his torch ‘all cultural values that define Greece, like
e.g. harmony through a contemporary approach’ (Diners Club, vol. 83 (2003)), did not satisfy
some of his critics who argued that his industrial design ‘does not allude to any sense of
Greekness, nor to the aesthetics of our very rich tradition’ (I Kathimerini 16 January 2002).
[23] Bille and Sørensen, ‘An Anthropology of Luminosity’, 263. As an example, they note that in
Denmark when a host wants to create a warm atmosphere (‘hygge’) in a social gathering he/
she makes sure all guests are included within the boundaries defined by the flickering and
subdued lighting’ (p. 276).
[24] Michailidis, ‘I Diki mou Patrida’.
[25] Hamilakis and Yalouri, ‘Antiquities as Symbolic Capital in Modern Greece’; cf. Skopetea, To
Protypo Vasileio kai i Megali Idea, 211; see also Yalouri, The Acropolis, 103–5; Yalouri ‘National
Experiences of International Sports’; Tzanelli ‘Giving Gifts (and Then Taking Them Back)’.
[26] Also characteristic is the description in Eleftherotypia (21/6/04) of the staging of the event in
New York’s Times Square: ‘For two entire hours, Greece and the Olympic Games occupied the
busiest place of the planet, right next to the seat of the biggest TV networks, which through their
gigantic screens unceasingly transmitted messages about the Olympic Games as well as fantastic
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moments of the torch relay. It could not get any better. A communicative counter-attack that
those in charge of Athens 2004 could not have imagined even in their wildest dreams’.
[27] See Yalouri, ‘When the New World Meets the Ancient’.
[28] Boukalas ‘I Floga mas Enonei ton Kosmo’.
[29] Yalouri ‘National Experiences of International Sports’. An intense and recurring question
among Greeks, accompanying the more general international questioning of Greece’s ability
to organize ‘safe’ and ‘successful’ Games during that period in Athens was ‘Will we make it on
time?’
[30] Politi, O Athlitismos os Politiko Zitima.
[31] Politi, O Athlitismos os Politiko Zitima, 93.
[32] Boukalas ‘I Floga mas Enonei ton Kosmo’.
[33] Yalouri, ‘National Experiences of International Sports’; Yalouri, The Acropolis, 114–23.
[34] Zepou, Athens Through the Hoops.
[35] The Los Angeles Olympics in 1984 left its mark on the history of Olympism as the Games with
the most pronounced commodification. That year Greek journalists and other public figures
lamented the ‘degradation’ of the Olympic spirit (Yalouri, The Acropolis, 114–117).
[36] The names of my informants have been altered in order to maintain their anonymity.
[37] Weiner, ‘Inalienable Wealth’, Inalienable Possessions, ‘Cultural Difference and the Density of
Objects’; Yalouri, The Acropolis, 101–35; Yalouri, ‘Between the Local and the Global’.
[38] Bourdieu Outline of a Theory of Practice, 191; Hamilakis and Yalouri, ‘Antiquities as Symbolic
Capital in Modern Greece’; Yalouri, The Acropolis, 101–7.
[39] Tzachrista, The small Olympic Village, 182.
[40] Ibid, 182.
[41] see for example Karkayannis, ‘I Skini tou Topiou’.
[42] For example, on a different occasion, the ceremony organized for the arrival of the 2004
Olympic flame in Athens and the commencement of the torch relay around the world, the
president of Athens 2004 underlined ‘the sacred, symbolic moment’ of the arrival of the flame
in the city of Athens, through which ‘Greece connects the past with the present and the future
of the Olympic Games and provides the reference point of the unique Olympic event we are
preparing’ (To Vima 1/4/04).
[43] cf. Yalouri, The Acropolis, 137–86.
[44] This is reminiscent of Howard Morphy’s analysis of Yolngu art in Northern Africa (Morphy,
‘From Dull to Brilliant’). The ‘brilliance’ deriving from the application of a certain technique
in their paintings is considered as spiritual power which together with ritual performances
create a sense of an Ancestral presence.
[45] It is interesting in this context that as early as the first official establishment of the torch relay
in 1936, the Hellenic Olympic Committee following an order by the International Olympic
Committee asked for the blessing of the Church. Despite the relay’s ‘pagan references’, both
the Metropolite of Elis as well as the archbishop of Athens were present at the Olympic
ceremony (Tzachrista, ‘The Olympic Torch Run’, 111).
[46] Boukalas, ‘I Olympiaki Floga kai to Agion Fos’.
[47] Ibid.
[48] Anderson (Imagined Communities) has noted that both religion and nationalism should be
perceived as cultural systems, with the second following and drawing from the first. Anderson
elaborates his view by arguing that the dawn of nationalist ideology in 18th century Europe
coincided with the dusk of religious systems of thought. According to him, the new collective
identity, the imagined community of the nation, absorbed and incorporated several religious
concepts as well as ritual practices (see also Hamilakis and Yalouri ‘Sacralising the Past’;
Yalouri, The Acropolis, 140–1, Yalouri, ‘When the New World meets the Ancient’). See also
Mosse (The Nationalization of the Masses, 40–42) for a discussion of the ways in which the
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Christian use of the sacred flame was accommodated in German national rites as part of the
creation of a secular religion.
[49] For a more analytical discussion of the victory of the Greek national football team in the
UEFA Euro 2004 championship amidst the preparations for the Olympics, see Yalouri,
‘National Experiences of International Sports’.
[50] Another more recent discussion revolving around the ‘pollution’ of the flame is the following:
On 24 March 2008, during the lighting ceremony in ancient Olympia for the Beijing Olympics
three French protesters from the group ‘Reporters Without Borders’ broke into the venue while
Liu Qi, president of the Beijing Organising Committee and Beijing Communist Party Secretary,
spoke. They tried to display a black banner showing the Olympic rings as handcuffs. China state
TV cut away to a pre-recorded scene, preventing Chinese viewers from seeing the protest
(Associated Press 24/3/2008). In Greece, the cameras also avoided showing scenes with French
activists’ pro-Tibet protests, and promptly got criticized in various Greek newspaper articles,
noting sarcastically that the incident was not allowed ‘to pollute’ the lighting ceremony and the
official show of the Olympic ideals. The Reporters Without Borders, in a statement issued after
the event, adopted the official discourse representing the Olympic flame as ‘sacred’. For them, of
course, it wasn’t their interruption of the ceremonies that polluted the flame, but the Chinese
official, whose presence in the ceremony allowed China to derive legitimacy from and exercise
influence over the symbol of the flame: ‘If the Olympic flame is sacred, human rights are even
more so. We cannot let the Chinese government seize the Olympic flame, a symbol of peace,
without denouncing the dramatic situation of human rights in the country’ (ibid). The Olympic
flame thus becomes a universal idiom which is adopted and interpreted locally in different, if
not contradictory, ways. As noted in an article of I Kathimerini.
‘The protests do not pollute the torch relay, but they are attributing to it a meaning that is
more important than that attributed to it by its simple touring around the world [. . .] The
passion with which the organisers and the state authorities are trying to protect the flame, and
the vigour with which the protesters are trying to reach it and to disturb its route, show that the
symbol has become universal and that it is alive. The flame escaped the poor play-acting of the
authorities’ embrace, and it sparks off as an unforeseen fire towards all directions’
(Konstantaras, ‘I Floga Xefyge’).
In the context of the contestation over the ownership and ‘the right use’ of the Olympic flame,
it is worth noting that in addition to the protesters at the site, there were some Tibetan protesters
in the village of Olympia who demonstrated against China’s relationship with Tibet as the first
torch-bearer ran through the village. Many in the Greek crowd verbally abused these protestors,
apparently because in their minds the flame articulates the ideals of ‘Greek civilization’ and any
unscheduled disruption to the flame’s journey was considered offensive to Greece and by
extension to them personally (Papakonstantinou, personal communication).
[51] Eriksen, Ethnicity and Nationalism, 111.
[52] For example To Vima, 29 August 2004. See also Kanellis, Ethnohooliganism, 88.
[53] Kanellis, Ethnohooliganism, 88–9.
[54] See Herzfeld, Cultural Intimacy for a discussion of the concepts of display and concealment
which, as he argues, are ‘a key to the front and back door of Greek culture’ (40). ‘The fall of the
idols’, however, was not unanimously accepted. After the first shock following the news of
Kenteris’ and Thanou’s involvement in the doping scandal there was an effort by some to transfer
part – if not the whole – of the blame from the Greek athletes to the politics and inequality of
power in sport, which allegedly allowed the persecution of doped Greek athletes, but not of
athletes representing superpowers like the US who it was believed somehow got away with
doping. During the athelets’ presentation at the 200 metres final, where Kenteris would have
otherwise been the big favourite, a big part of the 70,000-strong audience began cheering for him
and booing the American runners. At the same time, in collaboration with a local radio station,
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the mayor of Mytilini (the birthplace of Kenteris) was organizing a public event including
the screening of the Sydney Olympics’ 200 metres run in which Kenteris had won (Kanellis,
Ethnohouliganismos, 68–71). At a time of policing and surveillance coupled with international
criticism against Greece, which reminded the public that the Games were not ‘Greek’ after
all, such an ‘act of resistance’ (ibid: 71), ‘ethno-hooliganism’ (ibid: passim), or ‘nationalistic
doping’ (ibid, 6, 114) presented Kenteris and Thanou as victims of the dominant order of
power and brought to the fore the vices deriving from the appropriation of the Games by
non-Greek forces.
[55] Bistika, ‘Sto Vomo tou Parthenona’.
[56] Lakasas and Souliotis, ‘Ishyro Sok gia tous Ellines’.
[57] Although The Independent had a different opinion: ‘The Olympic Games may never have
opened so beautifully as they did last night. But however stupendously you dress it, a
nightmare is still a nightmare’ (14 August 2004).
[58] Danikas, ‘Ahaireftoi; see also Katsounaki, ‘I Paragka mas Akolouthei’.
[59] Blumemberg, ‘Light as a Metaphor for Truth’.
[60] This fear of a possible extinction of the Olympic flame during its transportation is, again,
reminiscent of the effort of children and adults alike to prevent the Easter candle or lantern to
go off on the way home from the church after the Resurrection liturgy on Easter Sunday.
[61] see Yalouri, The Acropolis, 192–93; Miller, Materiality; Yalouri, ‘I Dynamiki ton Mnimeion’
[62] Blumemberg, ‘Light as a Metaphor for Truth’, 40.
[63] Gell ‘Magic, Perfume, Dream . . . ’, 27, 29.
[64] Ibid., 31.
[65] Tzanelli, ‘Giving Gifts (and Then Taking Them Back)’, 430, citing Gellner, Nationalism.
[66] Gell, Art and Agency. Although the flame is not ‘an object’, it does have, as I pointed earlier, a
material manifestation which is perceived through the senses.
[67] Gell’s views are part of a more general turn that takes place both in social theory (Ortner,
‘Theory in Anthropology since the Sixties’) as well as in material culture studies (see Tilley,
‘Ethnography and Material Culture’) from the ’80s onwards.
[68] Gell, Art and Agency, 17–21. For an overview of the application of the concepts of ‘agency’ and
‘biography of things’, see Hoskins, ‘Agency, Biography and Objects’.
[69] Munn, The Fame of Gawa; Miller, Material Culture and Mass Consumption; Tilley
‘Objectification’.
[70] Plantzos, ‘Archaeology and Hellenic Identity’.
[71] Yalouri, ‘When the New World meets the Ancient, 331 and passim.
[72] Georgousopoulos, ‘Pantehno Pyros Selas’.
[73] In that respect it is also revealing that some years after the warm exchange of telegraphs
between the German and the Hellenic Olympic Committees of 1936 praising the ‘bond of
light’ created between the German and the Greek nations through the torch relay, Hitler was
blamed in Greece for having transformed the Olympic flame that Germany had received from
Greece into an arsonist’s torch which caused a destructive fire to the Greek land and to the
entire world (Tzachrista, ‘The Olympic Torch Run’: 112–115).
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Epilogue: New Directions in Classical

Reception, Sport and the Body in
Modern Greece
Zinon Papakonstantinou
Since the European Renaissance, the classical world has been a potent symbol in art,
politics, education, public life and sport. Regarding the latter, a classical background
can go a long way in comprehending developments and distortions of the modern
sports movement at the international or local level. In this context, modern Greek
constructions of sport and bodily culture, though somewhat exceptional, can be at
the same time instructive for comparative purposes. This is due to two reasons. First,
after gaining independence from the Ottoman empire, Greece experienced a
development of sporting practices and ideas about gender/the body within the
context of a Western, rationalist nation-state agenda, similar in some ways to other
European nation-states. Second, during the same period Greeks, as the self-
determined body of citizens of the Greek nation-state, embodied a sense of
entitlement of the classical ‘heritage’ of which they viewed (and continue to do so)
themselves as the primary and rightful ‘owners’.
The preceding studies map out in broad strokes aspects of this canvass, but also
explore in detail particular facets in a fashion that suggests further research prospects.
For instance, the association between classical antiquity and aspects of Greek public
spectacles has been observed before. However, the cases discussed in the papers of the
present volume suggest that the topic is far from being exhausted. Hence, the use of
classical tradition can be further employed in elucidating the process whereby
modern athletic traditions were invented. For instance, quite often modern Greek
sport practices and ideologies, especially those claiming direct inspiration from
ancient sport, have been conceived as a reaction to the ‘evils’ of over-specialization,
professionalism and commercialization of the modern sports movement. The athletic
contests in the Delphic festivals of 1927 and 1930 are a case in point.
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Furthermore, links between classicism and the modern Olympics have been
dissected before, but much more remains to be done. For instance, the influence
of classical antiquity in the writings and acts of early pioneers of the modern
Olympic movement such as Zappas and de Coubertin could be explored further.
Another possible avenue of research would be the way classicism informs (or in
some instances, misinforms) recent Olympic initiatives, for example, the latest
attempts to revive the so-called Olympic truce. Finally, in the field of sports
historiography the influence of classical antiquity needs to be re-assessed. For
example, an evaluation of representations of Greek antiquity embedded in the
Greek popular literature and historiography published on the occasion of the 2004
Olympic Games remains a desideratum. Moreover, outside Greece the impact of
influential works by modern classical scholars, especially of the Victorian era, in
the formation of sports historiography traditions in the Anglo-Saxon world has
not been fully appreciated. In all these cases, similarly to the instances of
classical revival examined in this volume, classicism has been employed, and at
times usurped and distorted, to fit certain projects and promote particular
agendas.
A recurring theme in many papers of the present volume is the role of sport and
bodily spectacles in the process of gender construction and identity formation. This
issue emerges from the cases of the Lyceum of Greek Women events, the theatrical
performances in the Delphi festivals, the military and historical re-enactments in the
colonels’ junta public spectacles and last but not least, the torch-race and other
activities of the Athens 2004 summer Olympics. In all these instances, gender, class
and national identity is negotiated and solidified through public performance. This
line of approach could be extended and profitably applied on other instances of
identity performance and re-enactments of gendered perceptions of the body in
modern Greece, a potentially rich but largely unexplored field. Moreover, because
public spectacles, along with the printed word, constituted the major means for mass
reproduction and dissemination of social and cultural models before the advent of
mass media, Greek public spectacles of the type examined in this volume can provide
useful comparanda to historians interested in gender and the public sphere in other
nation-states.
Gender and national identity was constructed in modern Greece largely through
the mediation of the notion of Hellenicity (‘Greekness’), a notion that was vividly
re-enacted in historical discourses as well as in the public spectacles examined in
this volume. In the latter case, Hellenicity was incarnated through the various
forms of the ‘ancestor revival’ process. Many aspects of this process, especially in
relation to sport, remain to be identified and studied. For instance, references to
‘glorious’ antiquity still inform much of the popular, domestic and international,
discourses that accompany any type of Greek international sporting success.
Moreover, the assertion that a meticulous study of the impact of Hellenicity can
pay research dividends holds true not only for modern Greece but for many other
nation-states as well who appropriated in the modern period the notions of
181

‘classical tradition’ and associated central aspects of their socio-political edifice

with a vaguely conceived classical ‘legacy’.
In all these instances, and in numerous others that the readers will undoubtedly
discover, ancient Greece and its modern receptions will continue to provide an entry
point to more sophisticated understandings of the way we practice and perceive sport
and the body.
182

Index
Adamantiou, A. 25–6, 35 historical re-enactments 117, 121, 122,

Aeschylus 89 124–6; junta festivals 119–28; Metaxas
Alexander the Great 33, 125 regime (1936–41) 117, 118, 120, 121, 126,
Amazons 54, 55 129–35; military regime (1967–74) 117–28,
Anthesteria: Lyceum of Greek Women 61–7 128–41; nation-in-danger theme 136–41;
Antioch 24, 26 patriotism 130; propaganda 121; self-
Aristotle 89 sacrifice 136–41; sport and spectacle 117–
armatoloi 27, 29 50
Arts and Crafts Movement 98 Diplarakou, A. 102–3
Asia Minor Catastrophe 71 Dörpfeld, W. 87
Atalanta 54 Duncan, I. 64, 75, 90, 96, 98, 99
Duncan, R. 95, 96, 99, 100
Bille, M.: and Sørensen, T.F. 152, 156
Birth of Tragedy (Nietzsche) 97 Eleftherotypia 170
Bithynia 29 Elis 54, 56, 57
Blachouras, C.C. 37 eugenics 58
Byzantine Life and Civilisation (Koukoules) exercise: Ancient Greece and national identity
26 17–20
Byzantinische Zeitschrift 24
Byzantium 33, 35, 39, 69, 73; hellenisation fascism 121, 124
and athleticisation 23–6 Fauriel, C. 28
female bodily culture: cycling 60; Greekness
Christianity XXXIII 2 49–85; Ladies’ Journal 51–62, 68; Lyceum
Christodoulou, N.G. 35–6 of Greek Women 62–76; tennis 60
Chryssafis, I. 30, 31, 33–4, 36 female collective action 49–85; Ladies’
Civil War (1946–9) 127, 138–9 Journal 51–62; Lyceum of Greek Women
competitive sport: history 34–7 61–7
Concise Archaeology of the Hellenes festivals: dictatorial regimes 119–28;
(Sakellarios) 18 Panathenaic Stadium 67–76
Constantine the Great 125 Festivals of the Polemic Virtue of the Greeks
continuity 121; nation 2, 58–9 119–28; Albanian victory 126–7;
Coubertin, P. de 21, 32 attendance 120; bravery 128; Byzantine
crypto-colonialism: and Greece 153 history 126, 128; Civil War 127; gymnastics
Curtius, E. 15, 16 124; marching 123; public mass 122; re-
cycling 60 enactments 124–7; sporting displays 123–4;
Trojan War 124–5; War of Independence
Delphic Festivals 4, 86–116, 180; art of dance 126
88, 89–90; athletics 88; clothing 88; Fetsis, A. 31
gymnastics 88 FIFA World Cup 1
Delphic Games: revival 32, 34 First Athletic Week 132
demoi 23; transformation 12 folk dances: nationalization 62–7;
dictatorial regimes: and early festival Panathenaic Stadium 71
pageantry 135–6; gymnastics 128–9; folklore studies 27–8
183

INDEX
folksongs 27–8, 29 Krestenitou, A. 64

Fournaraki, E. 49–85
Fuller, L. 96 Ladies’ Journal 4, 50–62, 76; female
competition ideal 56; female competitive-
Gell, A. 169 athletic tradition 56–7; female physical
Glaspell, S. 99 exercise 52–62
Glytzouris, A. 4–5, 86–116 Lambros, S. 3, 14–17, 18, 24, 28, 29–30, 33
Great Greek Encyclopedia 24, 26, 29 Lyceum of Greek Women 4, 5, 61–76, 91, 96,
Greek Championship Games (1896) 58 100, 130, 135, 181; Panathenaic Stadium
Greek sport historiography: evolution 10–48 festivals 67–76
Greek Sport through the Centuries
(Christodoulou) 35 Mairet, E. 98
Grote, G. 13, 15 Makarezos, N. 119
gymnastics 11, 20, 128–9; school curriculum Makkas, G.A. 19
19, 37 Mandell, R. 135
Manitakis, P.N. 36–7
Helleno-Christianism 23 May Day celebrations: Lyceum of Greek
Heraia Games 54, 55, 57 Women 62–7
Herzfeld, M. 136, 153 Megali Idea 32, 52, 69, 71
hippodrome 14, 16, 23, 25, 26, 35 Melas, S. 65
historical continuity: and national unity 14– Metastasio, P. 18
17 Metaxas, I. 118, 120, 121, 126, 129–35
History of Ancient Greece (Papandreou) 20 Minoidis, M. 19–20
History of the Greek Nation 12–14, 39 Mistriotis, G. 96, 98
History of the Hellenic Nation motherhood 58
(Paparregopoulos) 126 Mussolini, B. 121
History of Physical Education (Pavlinis) 31–3,
34 Naoroji, K. 101
Hitler, A. 121, 132 national character 59
Hors, M. 155–6, 163 national history: Greek sport 37–9
Hundred Years of Modern Greek Sport national identity: Ancient Greece and exercise
(Manitakis) 36–7 17–20; Klephts 26–30
National Physical Training Academy 30
I Kathimerini 157, 170 national renaissance 32; and Olympic Games
Illustrated Panorama of the Olympic Games (1896) 21–2
(Spyridis) 21–2 national unity 38; and historical continuity
International Classical Games 32 14–17
National Youth Organization (EON) 134
Jahn, F.L. 30 Nazism 121, 132, 135, 152
junta festivals: dictatorial regimes 119–28; Neo-Romantic movement 90, 95, 97, 101, 102
Metaxas regime 131–5; War of Nietzsche, F. 97
Independence 135–6
Olympia 5, 54, 152, 156, 160, 162–3, 164,
kalokagathia 37 168; excavations 20, 21, 22, 132
Kalomoiris, M. 91 Olympia and the Olympic Games
Kambouroglous, D. 29 (Papageorgiou) 20
Kanellos, V. 96 Olympic flame 6; Athens doping scandal 165–
Karaïskake, S. 134–5 7; classical heritage 152, 161–2;
Karamanlis, K. 5 commercialization 162–3, 170;
Kenteris, K. 165–7 commodification 158, 160, 163; Greek
Keramopoulos, A.D. 92 public opinion 157–63; and harm 165–7;
Klephts 33, 39; athleticisation 26–30 light 152, 156, 167, 169; Olympic Games
Kolettis, I. 19, 135–6 (2004) 151–79; rituals 152–3; sacredness
Kontoglou, P. 100 163–5; and spirit 169–70; torch design 156;
Kotzias, K. 132 torch relay 155–7; transformation 169–71;
Koukoules, P. 25, 26, 35 uniqueness 167–8
Koulouri, C. 3, 4, 10–48
184

INDEX
Olympic Games 1, 18, 19; revival 10, 17, 19, Prometheus Bound: choreographic guide 91,
20, 21, 33 93–4; tragic chorus 86–116
Olympic Games (1896) 11, 12, 14, 19; Ladies’ Psachos, K. 89, 91, 94
Journal and emancipation 51–62; and Pyrrhic dance: and tragic chorus 94
national renaissance 21–2
Olympic Games (1906) 21, 38; Ladies’ Raftopoulou, B. 91
Journal and emancipation 51–62 Raymond, M. 70
Olympic Games (1936) 121, 132 Revithi, S. 57–8
Olympic Games (1996) 11 Revolution (1821) 128, 138, 140
Olympic Games (2004) 5–7; doping scandal Rigas Velestinlis 18
165–7; Greek public opinion 157–63;
Olympic flame 151–79; organisation and Sakellarides, I. 96
international criticism 153–4; security Sakellarios, G. 18
measures 153; torch relay 155–7, 170 School of Gymnasts 11
Ottoman Empire 10, 16 School of Women Physical Educators 53
schools: physical education 129, 132, 134
Pachtikos, G.D. 29 Schopenhauer, A. 97, 99
Pagon, G. 19–20 self-sacrifice 136–41
Paliouritis, G. 18 Sikelianos, A. 86–7, 88, 97, 98
Palmer-Sikelianos, E. 4, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 93, Siores, N. 129
94–5, 96, 97, 99, 100, 101, 102 slogans: Metaxas regime 130
Panathenaea 61 social Darwinism 58
Panathenaic Stadium festivals 67–76, 96; and Sontag, S. 137
ages of Hellenism 74; dramatizations 73–4 Sørensen, T.F.: and Bille, M. 152, 156
Panathenaїkos 129 Soutsos, P. 19
panegyreis 14 Spanoudi, A. 35–6
Panhellenic Games 18, 19 Spengler, O. 98
Panourgia, N. 130, 132 Spiliotopoulos, A.T. 22, 28–9
Papadopoulos, G. 119, 121, 122, 124, 127, sport historiography: evolution 10–48
138 Sport a Modern Religion (Spanoudi) 35
Papadopoulos, T. 156 sports clubs: history 36
Papageorgiou, D. 20 Spyridis, G. 21–2
Papaioannou, D. 167 Summary of Gymnastics (Pagon) 19–20
Papakonstantinou, Z. 1–7, 180–2 superiority: Greek race 58, 59
Papandreou, A.A. 20 Suppliant Women (Euripides): tragic chorus
Paparregopoulos, K. 126 86–116
Paparrhigopoulos, C. 3, 13, 14, 15, 23, 24
Parren, C. 50–62, 62–4, 67, 68–9, 75 tennis 60
Pattakos, S. 119 Thanou, K. 165–7
Pausanius 18, 20 The Olympic Games 776BC-1896 21
Pavlinis, E. 25, 31–3, 34 Theodosius 23
Peppas, S. 31 tragic chorus: ancient pottery 90, 91, 92, 94,
Petrakis, M. 134 96, 100, 101; and Aristotle 89; costumes
Philemon, T. 21 94–5, 100; Delphic Festivals 4, 86–116;
Phokianos, I. 30 discipline 93; modern folk dance 93–4, 97,
Physical Education Academy 30 99; music 90–1; and Plato 89; Prometheus
Physical Education College 30 Bound 91–2, 94, 95, 102; Pyrrhic dance 94;
physical education colleges 11 relief carvings 90; sculpture 90, 92;
Physical Education of the Greeks Suppliant Women (Euripides) 92, 95, 96,
(Blachouras) 37 100
physical education instructors: and physical Trojan War 140; historical re-enactment 124–
training history 30–4 5
Pindar 18 Tsakopoulos, G.V. 24
Plato 89 Tzianidis, N. 167
Poe, E.A. 97
Poetics (Aristotle) 89 Union of Greek Women 53
Politis, N. 21, 29, 33, 63
185

INDEX
Van Steen, G. 5, 117–50 Xenopoulos, G. 65, 66

Varotsos, A. 156
Veloudios, T. 94 Yalouri, E. 6, 151–79
Venizelos, E. 33, 34, 135 Yannopoulos, P. 34
Wagner, R. 97, 98 Zambelios, S. 23

War of Independence 13, 26–7, 59, 126, 136 Zappas Olympics 3, 11, 20, 30, 136, 181
women’s emancipation: Olympics (1896) and
Ladies’ Journal 51–62
186






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Sport Bodily Culture and Classical Antiq

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Sport, Bodily Culture and Classical Antiquity in

Eleni Fournaraki is Assistant Professor in Modern Social History at the University of

Zinon Papakonstantinou is Lecturer in Ancient History at the University of Athens. He

Provided by Taylor and Francis - Papakonstantinou 29.05.2012

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Sport, Bodily Culture and Classical

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First published 2011

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Series Editors’ Foreword vii

1. Prologue: Sport, Bodily Culture and Classical Antiquity in Modern Greece

2. From Antiquity to Olympic Revival: Sports and Greek National Historiography

4. ‘Resurrecting’ Ancient Bodies: The Tragic Chorus in Prometheus Bound and

6. Fanning the Flame: Transformations of the 2004 Olympic Flame

7. Epilogue: New Directions in Classical Reception, Sport and the Body

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Provided by Taylor and Francis - Papakonstantinou 29.05.2012

SERIES EDITORS’ FOREWORD

Historical Perspectives continues the tradition established by the original incarnation of

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SPORT IN THE GLOBAL SOCIETY

SPORT, BODILY CULTURE AND CLASSICAL ANTIQUITY IN

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Sport in the Global Society: Historical Perspectives

Titles in the Series

Encoding the Olympics The Balkan Games and Balkan Politics

Gymnastics, a Transatlantic Movement Sport Past and Present in South Africa

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Sport in the Global Society

Africa, Football and FIFA Athleticism in the Victorian and Edwar-

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Cricket and England Europe, Sport, World

Doping in Sport Football: The First Hundred Years

Ethnicity, Sport, Identity France and the 1998 World Cup

European Heroes Freeing the Female Body

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Fringe Nations in Soccer Making European Masculinities

Japan, Sport and Society Muscular Christianity and the Colonial

Lost Histories of Indian Cricket Playing on the Periphery

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Pleasure, Proﬁt, Proselytism Soccer in South Asia

Reformers, Sport, Modernizers Soccer, Women, Sexual Liberation

Rugby’s Great Split Sport: Race, Ethnicity and Indigenity

Scoring for Britain Sport and Foreign Policy in a Globalizing

Serious Sport Sport and International Relations

Shaping the Superman Sport and Memory in North America

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Sport in Australasian Society Sporting Nationalisms

Sport, Media, Culture The Commercialisation of Sport

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Prologue: Sport, Bodily Culture and

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association with classical antiquity. It is no exaggeration to argue that at least since

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almost unanimously presented as embodiments of the ancient Greek athletic spirit

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Appropriating aspects of the Hellenic historical continuity discourse, the flame

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