When Mr Wyse arrived at Athens last year, as British minister, he found

the train laid to the mine Lord Palmerston was about to spring. He tried

in vain to persuade the Greek ministers to make such concessions as

would prevent an open rupture. His conciliatory conduct misled the Greek

court into a belief that Lord Palmerston was afraid to come to blows,

and, in an evil hour, it deemed itself secure of victory. The only

alternative left to Great Britain, in King Otho’s opinion, was to

withdraw the English minister from Athens. But, even if Lord

Palmerston’s disposition had made him inclined to take this course, King

Otho ought to have remembered that the convention of 1832, which created

the Greek kingdom, bound England to watch over it. So infatuated was the

court of Athens at this time, that the modifications which it would be

possible to make in the Greek constitution, after the departure of the

English minister, became a subject of conversation. Yet when the hour

arrived, and Lord Palmerston’s demands were communicated, the Greek

ministers felt the folly of resistance; and they would have capitulated,

had the minister of the French Republic not availed himself of the

conjuncture to flatter King Otho’s private prejudices, and assumed the

direction of affairs. The Greek minister of foreign affairs, Mr Londos,

was a man utterly unfit for the place. His communications to the

Chambers, on the subject of the quarrel, are a tissue of erroneous

statements. M. Thouvenel persuaded this unlucky minister to brave Lord

Palmerston, and trust to the protection of France and the European

press. The French minister knew that he would gain for himself the star

and the broad blue ribbon of King Otho’s Order of the Redeemer, and he

knew equally well that he would inflict a serious injury on the commerce

and revenues of Greece, and that he would cause the ruin of many Greek

merchants. There can be no doubt, that ambassadors ought never to be

allowed to receive Orders from the sovereigns to whose court they are

accredited. The interests of nations are often sacrificed by honourable

men for stars and ribbons. In finally coming to an open rupture with

Greece, Lord Palmerston probably only did what any other minister who

had placed himself in a similar position must have done. But though we

believe that it was King Otho who made the cup run over, we have shown

our readers that Lord Palmerston had already filled it pretty full; and

we are far from approving of the measures he adopted for the coercion of

the Greek Government. In our opinion, it was cruel to punish the Greek

people for the faults of their rulers, since those rulers were selected

and protected by the Three Powers, of which England is one. The coercion

ought to have been confined to measures that would have directly

affected the King and the Government.

We have now laid before our readers the history of all the causes,

supposed and real, of Lord Palmerston’s war with Greece. It was neither

the livery waistcoat of Sir E. Lyon’s groom, the missing chair at the

royal comedy, Mr Pacifico’s furniture, Mr Finlay’s garden, no, nor the

constitutional policy of the English Government, that brought our fleet

to Salamis. It was the anonymous correspondent of the _Morning

Chronicle_ in 1839, be that individual who he may. Lord Palmerston’s

conduct to Greece since that period, it is true, has been generally

unwise, and often unjust; but that correspondence having been once

placed to the account of the British Cabinet by the King of Greece, he

consequently acted in such a spirit towards England, that we acknowledge

a collision became unavoidable, without a sacrifice of the dignity of

the British Crown. The papers laid before Parliament show, that the

communications of the English Government were left unanswered for years.

We are bound also to observe, that the conduct of King Otho has so

completely disorganised the finances of Greece, that his throne is in

imminent danger, and a great change in the government of Greece must

take place in the present year. In the year 1848, a serious rebellion

took place in Greece. The diplomacy of England was accused of

encouraging the insurgents, and, for some days, the flight of King Otho

from Athens was an event hourly expected. When the full extent of the

evil, and the anarchy which threatened the country in consequence of the

insane conduct of the Greek Opposition, was known in England, Lord

Palmerston frankly changed his policy, and sent our ablest and best

English diplomatist, Sir Stratford Canning, to save King Otho’s throne.

If a throne be of any value, the King of Greece owed some thanks to

England for the great services of Sir Stratford Canning, who had to

encounter a virulent and unfair opposition from the English officials at

Athens during his exertions to save Greece from anarchy.

We have no time to point out the connexion of the events we have noticed

with the general movement of European diplomacy since 1833. Our space

compels us to confine our observations to Greece; and we must now

hastily examine the state of society in the country, in order to enable

our readers to judge of the manner in which the civilisation of the

people affects the administration of public affairs. The Greeks

themselves think that their great political want is a good systematic

central administration. We believe, on the contrary, that their great

political deficiency is the want of municipal institutions, that would

admit of their making some exertions to improve their own condition.

Every one who has travelled much in Greece must have seen, that every

little town and island contains two or three individuals capable of

fulfilling the duties of a local magistracy with honour to their

country; while everybody who has had anything to do with the ministers

of King Otho, or with the members of his council of state, knows that

there is not a statesman in Greece capable of filling a ministerial

post, in a period of political difficulty, without disgracing his

country. It would be invidious to name respectable men as instances of

incapacity; but every one, who has followed the political history of

Greece, is aware that every Greek statesman has had opportunities of

disgracing it, and repeating the same blunders several times. The

despotic government of King Otho failed from the utter incapacity of his

ministers; the constitutional monarchy is hastening to ruin from the

same cause. In the present state of Greece, it is not possible to find

men capable of conducting the King’s Government with the necessary

ability. The people are greatly in advance of their rulers.

The conclusion of the revolutionary war left the nation divided into

several classes of society, as different in their ideas and habits of

life as if they had formed parts of different nations. These classes

were, first, the peasantry—for so the cultivators of the soil are

generally called, though a large portion of them are landed proprietors,

and often the only persons of substance in the provinces. Second, the

primates, or proprietors, who did not cultivate their own lands. These

men managed public business, and acted as collectors of the revenue

under the Turks: they frequent coffee-houses, and form political

societies under the centralised constitutional system of government.

This class, however, possesses some education, but its moral character

is vitiated by a firm conviction that it is entitled to be maintained in

a state of idleness at the public expense. It has gained considerable

political influence by means of the election law of 1844. Coletti, by

intimidating the weak, bribing the active, and creating innumerable

places, purchased this class wholesale, and rendered himself master of

nearly all the electoral districts in Greece. The third class is

composed of that numerous body of Greeks who have emigrated to the

Hellenic territory from different provinces of Turkey. This class

includes the greater part of the ablest and best educated men in the

country; but the abject principles of the Phanariotes, or Greeks

educated for the public service in Turkey, and the base avidity

displayed by this class in place-hunting, which is their principal means

of life, rendered them very unpopular, and enabled their rivals, the

primates, to exclude them from official employments by a decree of the

national assembly of 1844. The fourth class is the military. This class

is very numerous, as its ranks are swelled by crowds of individuals who

never served in a military capacity, but who have received military rank

as a payment for political services. King Otho makes generals of

secretaries, and colonels of commissaries; while farmers of the revenue,

muleteers, and officers’ servants, form about one half of the unattached

officers of an army which counts an officer for every two privates and a

quarter, if we can trust the Greek Budget and the Greek newspapers.

There is also a remarkable difference between the social condition of

the inhabitants of the country and of the towns; and this difference

must be taken into consideration in estimating the political state of

Greece. The principal towns contain as many persons of education, and as

high a degree of mental cultivation, as can be found in any towns of a

similar size in other countries; but in the rural districts, on the

contrary, there is a want of material civilisation, a degree of rudeness

in every process of industry, which places the agricultural population

far below the people of every other European country, even including the

Greek population in Turkey. The Hellenic peasant cultivates his

_zevgari_, or yoke of land, in a manner that only enables him to live,

to rear a family to replace his own, and to pay his taxes. No

improvements take place on his farm—nor, indeed, can any take place

under the system of taxation and administration actually in force. Fruit

trees are annually destroyed, and forests are burnt down, but none are

ever planted. The depopulation caused by the war of the revolution may

still admit of the location of some additional families on uncultivated

land; but no improvement has yet been commenced in agricultural industry

or transport, that will give one family the means or the time to

cultivate more land than its predecessors have cultivated, or that will

make the same extent of land to yield any additional produce.

Here, then, we find precisely the state of things which produced the

stationary condition of European society during the middle ages, and

which still keeps the greater part of the East in its immutable

condition. The land under the windows of King Otho’s palace, and the

fields around the university of Athens, are more rudely cultivated than

any other portion of the soil of Europe; yet neither king, senators,

deputies, nor professors, appear to have perceived that the turning

point of national civilisation is not marked by the splendour of court

balls, the regularity of the payment of official salaries, or the number

and quality of scholastic lectures, but by the creation of a state of

things in which capital is advantageously employed in augmenting the

produce of the soil. When this is not the case, generations of

agriculturists succeed one another for ages, treading in the footsteps

of their predecessors in the same numbers, and in the same state of

barbarism.

Coexistent with this rude peasantry, there is an educated class whose

numbers are also limited by the fixed amount of rent and taxes, on which

they depend for their support, and by means of which they perpetuate

themselves by the side of the rude agriculturists, giving the towns all

the appearance of civilisation. This unfortunate state of society is not

new in the history of the Greek nation: it has now existed for more than

1000 years, and it forms the prominent feature in the internal

organisation of the Byzantine empire. Judging from the records of that

government, it is a state of society that presents greater obstacles to

change than any social combinations which the history of the human race

reveals to the west of China. The cultivators of the soil cannot improve

their condition or increase in number; the educated classes are

interested in opposing change, and have influence enough to prevent it:

poverty in the country, and meanness in the towns, render the universal

moral degradation an element of stability in the political condition of

a nation whose social state is such as we have described.

There remains an important class of society in Greece, which we have not

yet mentioned, because it has been excluded from all political influence

since the formation of the Hellenic monarchy. This is the mercantile

class. Before the revolutionary war, and during the contest with the

Turks, it was the Greek merchants and shipowners who formed the

aristocracy of the nation; but this class is now almost null in the

movement of political affairs at Athens. The greater part of the able,

respectable, and wealthy merchants have quitted the country, and are to

be found at Odessa, Trieste, Marseilles, London, and Manchester, not in

King Otho’s dominions. A small fraction of shipowners remain, but the

small schooners that now compose the mercantile navy of Greece cannot be

compared with the fine ships that Hydra, Spetzia, and Psara formerly

sent out to engage the Turkish fleet; and the comparative increase of

the tonnage of the trading vessels of large size in Greece and Turkey,

since 1840, shows that the trade of the Levant is extending more rapidly

under the Turkish than under the Greek flag.

We have now described the state of society with sufficient accuracy to

enable us to examine the value of the measures adopted for founding a

monarchy in Greece. From what we have said, it must be evident that

constitutional government, as the Continental liberals and English

political lecturers understand the term, could not be an object of much

interest to those classes that were called upon to exercise universal

suffrage. It probably never engaged their attention more seriously than

the laws of gravitation or the number of the fixed stars. They felt that

they wanted permanent and systematic administration, in place of the

inconstant and arbitrary measures from which they suffered; they

demanded security of property, liquidation of the public debt, and

employment for labour, but they knew not how to arrive at the

consummation of their wishes. Instead of attending to these commonplace

matters, the British Government and its allies gave the Greeks a king, a

court, a regency less united than their own Capitani, civil wars,

additional debts, and an order of knighthood to corrupt foreign

diplomatists; but not a road, a bridge, or a ferry-boat, was introduced

into a country full of mountains and dangerous torrent-beds, and

consisting, in great part, of peninsulas and islands. King Otho, who has

spent £3,000,000 sterling on civil wars, and £1,000,000 on palaces, does

not possess fifty miles of road practicable for a donkey-cart, in his

whole dominions. There is not a carriage-road from Athens to Corinth,

nor a ferry-boat to the islands of the Archipelago. Need we wonder,

then, if the Greeks despise their own Government, and suspect the

intentions of the three protecting powers that support it in its evil

conduct? The consequence is, that fifteen thousand military and police

officials fail to preserve order in a population of nine hundred and

twenty thousand souls. The result of this political experiment, in the

foundation of monarchies, certainly reflects little credit on the

statesmen of England, France, and Russia.

We must examine the error that was committed, in giving the countenance

of Great Britain, as a protecting power, to the absurd constitution

established in 1844; and while we blame what was then badly done, we

shall point out what common sense, when not warped by party interests,

dictated ought to have been done. Of course, we can only offer the

suggestions urged by a wise minority at Athens. The nation, in making

the revolution in 1843, did not want a constitution, for they possessed

institutions which a written constitution is only valuable as a means of

attaining. The Greeks, as we have said before, sought to reform the

system of administration. The method of carrying on the executive

government, under the hourly control of an elective chamber, called

constitutional government, was forced upon them by accident, as France

lately became a republic. Without the assistance of this _pons asinorum_

of French politicians, the Greeks had saved the liberty of the press

from the attacks of Count Armansperg, and established trial by jury in

spite of Austria and Russia.

The constitutional system of government, as it has laid hold of the

public mind on the Continent, is a very imperfect political contrivance:

practically, it has proved a delusion—a mere form, figured in empty

space by a mass of thick clouds, impelled hither and thither by unseen

currents of wind, the precursor of an approaching storm, not the source

of beneficial showers. When examined in detail, with its tribunes; its

orators, pamphlet in hand; its galleries, and its ministers playing at

see-saw between social democracy and court corruption, what hope does it

hold out of establishing a sense of moral responsibility and firmness of

purpose in individual statesmen, or the deep conviction that creates

patriotic feeling, and the power of self-sacrifice, in a whole people?

What collection of men, chosen by a mob which can never hear the names

of the wisest and best in their immediate vicinity, can, in the actual

state of education, morality, and religion, either possess the

qualifications necessary to make laws, or the experience required to

control and direct the executive government? English institutions, or

what we call, in conversation, the English constitution, is even now

something totally different from this spawn of modern political

quackery. Yet even among men of education, at home as well as among

demagogues and itinerant orators, we now find some who pretend that our

political system would be improved by allowing Gregory the poacher, and

Herman the tinker, to take an active share in legislation, by the

adoption of universal suffrage, annual Parliaments, and the vote by

ballot. We doubt whether a British _Codex Gregorianus_ or

_Hermogenianus_, so framed, would do our country much honour. Things are

bad enough as they are. We already make laws faster than lawyers can

read them; and the electors care very little about the legislative

labours of the elected. They seem contented to know that the work has

been done in such a hurry, that half of it must be done over again next

year. The people of England, like the Continental constitutionalists,

are beginning to fancy that the proper function of our legislators is to

make themselves the real executive. A true constitutional chamber,

according to the modern theory of government, ought to use the king’s

ministers as its own head-clerks. The evil is manifest. Ministers know

that their masters, the chambers, have no administrative plans, and a

very defective memory, so they themselves remain without any settled

policy. This state of things is a vice of our age. It is as apparent in

the embryo constitutionalism of Greece, as in the premature decrepitude

of Liberalism in France.

Constitutional government, where no educated and independent class

exists in the provinces, must always turn out, as it has done in Greece,

to be injurious to the cause of liberty, unless it be neutralised by

powerful municipal institutions, and an able and disinterested monarch.

The prominent vices of the Greek constitution are, universal suffrage,

vote by ballot, and a servile, ignorant, and useless Senate, as a satire

on a House of Peers. Without entering into any general examination of

the value of similar measures in other countries, we shall show that

they are unsuited to the actual state of society in Greece. Universal

suffrage evidently supposes that the people intrusted with it is

entitled to self-government; yet the constitution of Greece, which gives

the people universal suffrage, does not allow them any practical

influence even in the affairs of their smallest towns and rural

districts. Every person in Greece is supposed to be capable of choosing

legislators, but not mayors, aldermen, and provincial councillors. The

Greeks possessed great power in the local administration under the

Turks. This power contributed in a high degree to the preservation of

their national existence, but it alarmed the weak-minded Bavarians; and,

under the shield of the three protecting powers, the Greeks were robbed

of their municipal institutions by the Regency. A system of local

oligarchies was introduced, which prevails at present.

The election of the mayor and aldermen is vested in an electoral

college, one half of which is composed of the persons who pay the

greatest amount of taxes. Here is an element of respectability; but in

order to dilute it with one of servility, a certain number of

individuals, decorated with crosses, is admitted. Even this respectably

servile body is not allowed to elect the mayor; it is only empowered to

name three candidates, from which the King chooses the individual who is

to direct the interests of the little community. The mayor so chosen

enjoys his office for three years, and receives a good salary from the

municipal funds. Let us now examine how this system is worked, in

conformity with constitutional principles, in the capital of the

Hellenic kingdom. Attica, it must be observed, sends four deputies to

the Legislative Chamber; and as these deputies receive two hundred and

fifty drachmas a-month, and have succeeded in making the sittings of the

Greek Chambers perpetual, the place of deputy is worth as much as the

best estates in Greece. Now, as these interminable sitters are chosen by

universal suffrage, but are required to support the minister, it became

absolutely necessary to job the elections, by means of the oligarchy

holding office in the municipalities. This was not very difficult, for

the number of persons who can read and write among the Albanian

population of Attica, which outnumbers the Greek, is very small. Even

among the Greek population of the city of Athens, the proportion of

government officials and street porters, who pay no taxes, exceeds the

number of the independent citizens. The middle classes, and the friends

of order, are excluded from all local influence, by being excluded from

any share in the municipal government. A town-council party is formed,

and this party is allowed to employ the whole local revenues of Attica,

amounting to between three and four hundred thousand drachmas annually,

in jobbing, on condition that they support the ministerial candidates at

the elections.

The constitutional system of political corruption, to make universal

suffrage profitable to the court, runs thus: The mayors are selected

from men without character or local influence. This is brought about by

naming the third candidate mayor, he being generally some insignificant

person, whom both the leading parties agree to admit on the list. This

individual, when appointed, is nothing more than a creature of the

prefect or of the court, which alone possesses the power of protecting

him in office, and in the receipt of a good salary for three years. The

duty of the mayor is to bribe the aldermen, by allowing them to arrange

with the municipal councillors how to divert the revenues of the city

into their own pockets, or that of their relations, by the creation of

places. The extent to which the court have brought jobbing, is testified

by the shifts and tergiversation employed to prevent the publication of

any regular accounts of the receipts and expenditure of the

municipalities; and the municipal revenues exceed the sum of two

millions of drachmas. Athens, with a revenue of three hundred thousand

drachmas a-year, would be the filthiest town in Europe, were nature not

kinder to it than its magistrates.

A single instance of how matters are carried on in the provinces, is

sufficient to describe the whole system. A rural commune, placed on an

important line of communication, wished to make a good mule road over a

mountain pass. It voted the sum of six hundred drachmas in its budget,

hoping, by its example, to produce similar votes in the neighbouring

communes. The central government was then invited to send an engineer,

to trace the best line of road. The deputy of the province was a

creature of the court; he and the minister of the interior put their

heads together, and sent down an inspector of the road, before it was

surveyed or commenced, with an order on the commune which had put six

hundred drachmas in its budget, to pay him a salary of fifty drachmas

monthly for a year. This ministerial exploit put an end to all projects

of road-making on the part of the municipalities.

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 67, No. 415, May, 1850 · 第 3 / 20 段