Sanguine Greeks see historic drachma make way for upstart euro

Greek banknotes which, together with coins, have been used by generations of Greek parents to teach their children about their classical, cultural and historical heritage. The drachma is Europe’s oldest currency but five months ago the euro became the only legal currency in Greece

Despite being the oldest currency in Europe, dating from the sixth century BC, the drachma has been supplanted by the newest kid on the block, and has been surprisingly well received

Patrick Comerford
In Greece

Greeks proudly claim the drachma was Europe’s oldest currency, but five months after the euro became the only legal currency in Greece, few seem to regret its demise. Greeks have adapted rapidly to the changeover since the drachma was finally abolished on March 1st. “It’s easier, there are much fewer zeros involved,” one businessman told me last week.

The drachma was often a difficult currency for tourists. Apart from the high number of zeros involved in calculations, in financially volatile periods, visitors could see a 20 per cent swing up or down in the value of their home currency against the drachma during an average trip.

Now, after a determined struggle by the Greek government to stabilise the economy and become a full – if late – member of the euro zone, Greek euro-yearnings have been fulfilled.

As the oldest currency in Europe, the drachma first appeared in the sixth century BC and was quickly adopted by the city states throughout the ancient Greek world. The Greeks named their unit of currency from the word drássomai, “to grip”, or “to take a handful”, and a drachma was originally worth a handful of arrows or a handful of grain.

The drachma is mentioned in the Bible in both the Old Testament and the New Testament.

Despite Roman efforts to take it out of circulation, the drachma continued as one of the major coinages of the ancient world and remained in circulation until Ottoman times.

With Greek independence in the 19th century, the drachma returned after a lengthy eclipse, and was restored as the official national currency in 1833.

But, at first, Greeks showed no confidence in the new currency: Turkish, Spanish and British notes and coins – even the currencies of defunct Italian city states – were more trusted, circulated widely, and began to supplant the drachma.

Two moves saved the currency: a 60 million drachma foreign loan bolstered the state’s finances, and the National Bank of Greece was established in 1841 and put the first banknotes into circulation.

Successive efforts to shore up the drachma ended with the outbreak of the second World War and hyperinflation.

The drachma lost its value completely, and within 11 months the government released banknotes of 100,000, five million, 200 million, two billion, even 100 billion drachmas in a vain attempt to catch up with runaway prices.

At the height of the crisis in late 1945, one British sovereign was worth around 70 trillion drachmas.

The country’s real currency was sterling, and memories of that period have never faded – to this day, Greeks, especially in the islands and villages, dream of finding that “trunk full of sovereigns”.

The drachma was often a difficult currency for tourists... and in volatile times visitors could see a 20% swing up or down in value of their home currency.

The 2,500-year-old Parthenon atop Athens’s ancient Acropolis

Generations of Greek parents have used the drachma as a visual aid to teach their children about their classical, cultural and historical heritage: bankruptcies, wars and violent swings of government between monarchy and republic have given most heroes of Greek mythology and modern history a chance to appear on coins and banknotes.

Until earlier this year, the lowest coin in circulation was 10 drachmas, which featured Demokritos, while Homer was on the 50 drachma coin and Alexander and the Star of Vergina graced the 100 drachma coin.

Banknotes included mythical gods such as Poseidon (50), Athena (100) and Apollo (1,000); cultural figures such as Rigas Velestinlis-Pherios (200), along with the Monastery at Arkadia (500), the site of ancient Olympia (1,000); and the heroes of the independence struggle, including the seafarers (50), Korais (100), Kapodistrias (500) and Kolokotronis (5,000).

Some of the heroes of the past survive on the new Greek euro coins, and the one euro coin replicates the Attic drachma with the owl, emblem of Athena, surrounded by a crown of laurels.

The cent coins have also been given the Greek name “lepta”, recalling the sub-division of the drachma that hyper-inflation had forced from circulation many years ago.

Greek financial institutions will continue exchanging drachmas for euros until the end of this month, and commercial banks will still exchange drachmas until the end of the year.

And, if they have not become collectors’ items by then, the Bank of Greece will accept the old coins and notes until 2010.

This half-page feature was first published in the ‘Business This Week Supplement’ in ‘The Irish Times’ on 26 July 2002. It was my last feature as an a staff journalist with ‘The Irish Times’

Goodbye to journalism is not to stop bearing witness

RITE AND REASON:

Patrick Comerford explains why he is leaving journalism after more than 30 years to work full-time with the Church of Ireland

When the Rev Stephen Hilliard was leaving The Irish Times to become a full-time minister, the then deputy editor, Ken Gray, joked that he was moving from being a “column of the Times” to being a “pillar of the church”.

Later, when I asked Stephen to define the different challenges of journalism and parochial ministry, I was told: “In many ways they’re the same. We’re supposed to be comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable.”

For over 30 years I have worked as a journalist - including almost three years with the Wexford People and almost 28 years with The Irish Times, the last eight as Foreign Desk Editor. I leave later this month to start a new venture as the Dublin-based regional officer of the Church Mission Society Ireland, the principal mission and development agency in the Church of Ireland.

For 30 or more years as a journalist and writer, I have tried to work at the point where faith meets the major concerns of the world. That work has made me a witness to the great conflicts and disasters of the last century.

I have seen the evil consequences of the Holocaust in museums, memorials and synagogues and at the Anne Frank House. I have met the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the children of Chernobyl. I have been in the midst of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in the Middle East.

I have witnessed the evils of apartheid and racism, seen military occupation, poverty, and the deprivations of famine in Africa and South Asia, and talked and prayed with Sheila Cassidy and victims of torture and violence.

I have family experiences of the social terror left behind by the old regimes in Eastern Europe. I have friends who were tortured and exiled by the colonels in Greece but who have since made major contributions to the arts, diplomacy and politics.

Through those years I have been inspired by the courage of people who refuse to become victims and instead become fearless and articulate witnesses to the truths that good can overcome evil, that there is hope in the face of oppression, that faith is not a mere comfort but can inspire, motivate and provide vision for what can be - for what must be.

It is easy to drop names and say I have been inspired by heroes and friends such as Seán MacBride, Desmond Tutu, Trevor Huddleston, Bruce Kent, Mary Lawlor and Adi Roche.

But there is a vast ocean of silent people who give their time, their energy and their skills every day to campaigns like Amnesty International, the Anti-Apartheid Movement, CND, Christian Aid, the Simon Community, Trócaire, to movements concerned with the environment, globalisation, world debt, caring for refugees and asylum-seekers, to mission societies and, yes, even political parties. When they read newspapers like this, they hope to be informed, inspired and empowered by our news, comment and analysis.

My decision to move has surprised some colleagues and friends. But it is a natural transition for someone who continues to work with people wanting to be informed, inspired and empowered in the face of the major issues confronting the world and threatening our survival, and to bring to those issues the priorities of Christian faith, hope for the future and deep love.

Father Walter Forde has pointed out how people are more reluctant to volunteer their time and talents today. There will always be people like Ciaran Donnelly from Dublin and Paul Murphy from Cork, working without job security in Burundi and Nairobi. But there were not enough volunteers for the Vincent de Paul runs in Dublin last Christmas, and a shortage of volunteers threatens the Sunshine Homes holidays for inner city children.

These are body blows to witness and mission in Ireland. Perhaps we have failed to appreciate and encourage volunteers in the right ways. Perhaps we have failed to define mission in ways that are relevant to people today.

The Anglican Consultative Council has defined the five tasks of mission: to proclaim the good news of the kingdom; to teach, baptise and nurture new believers; to respond to human need by loving service; to seek to transform the unjust structures of society; and to strive to safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew the life of the earth. These are the issues I have been working with for over 30 years.

I will continue to nurture my love for Greece, its people, music, poetry, culture and history. I will continue to engage in Muslim-Christian dialogue. I will continue to teach theology and work on history projects. And, naturally, I will continue to write.

Nadine Gordimer, in her inaugural Andre Deutsch Lecture in London 10 days ago, argued that a writer’s highest calling is to bear witness to the evils of conflicts and injustice. But that is the calling of a priest too. And that is the calling I hope to develop with the Church Mission Society as I seek to comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable.

This ‘Rite and Reason’ column was published in ‘The Irish Times’ on 2 July 2002.