On the occasion of the 1821 anniversary, and by way of introduction, I refer to a few dates and meetings:

In Vostitsa, present-day Aigio, a small town at the time, at the end of January 1821, Papaflessas – born Georgios Dikaios and emissary of the Filiki Eteria – threatens the assembled local notables, among them Germanos of Old Patras, that if they do not rise against the Ottoman conquerors, he will do so himself with a thousand Maniots. He even falsely tells them that the uprising will be supported by the “blond race” of the Russians. Germanos of Old Patras, like the rest, protests, saying: “There is no money, we are not ready.”

At the same time, on the island then called Santa Maura, now Lefkada, many renowned Roumeli chieftains gather at the home of the legendary Ioannis Zampelis, with battle-ready insurgents like Georgios Varnakiotis, Karaiskakis, Androutsos, and others. Unlike the Peloponnesians, they are fully prepared.

Three meetings follow, between March 10 and 16, 1821. The first act of the uprising occurs at dawn on March 17, with the murder of two Ottoman tax collectors in Agia Lavra. The second, more decisive, on March 21, led by the fervent rebel Asimakis Fotilas, was dubbed “the massacre of hopeful salvation.”

It was time, therefore, to speak with an expert historian. The name that came to mind was the distinguished author, intellectual, researcher, and professor Kostas Kostis. His CV is as impressive as it is weighty. A glance at his online profile will convince you.

Kostis’s strength lies in examining historical phenomena from many angles. Thus, he is a staunch opponent of oversimplification, of the good vs. bad narrative, and of schoolbooks brimming with naivety and convenient heroics. Read on, and you’ll see.

Scene 1
Self-serving motives among the revolutionaries
DIMITRIS DANIKAS: The exact date of the Revolution’s beginning is somewhat confused, isn’t it?

KOSTAS KOSTIS: I don’t know if it’s so much confused as it is misunderstood, in the sense that we often look for protagonists where there are none. The Filiki Eteria, which organized the Revolution, helps us grasp the dimensions of the revolutionary phenomenon and understand who those involved really were.

D.D.: And who were they?

K.K.: In truth, they were what we might call marginal elites. We often say we’re talking about merchants. But not many merchants participated. And not first-tier merchants. Few priests were involved – again, not the prominent ones. The same goes for intellectuals. As for the leaders, they were the Mavrocordatos (Alexandros Mavrokordatos and Alexandros Mavrokordatos the Firanist), the Ypsilantis family – who had already lost power within the Ottoman Empire and hoped to regain it.

D.D.: So their motives were self-serving?

K.K.: Aren’t people usually motivated by self-interest in mobilizations? When I join a cause, I weigh what I might lose against what I might gain.

D.D.: What did they hope to gain?

K.K.: The Ypsilantis hoped to return and reclaim dominion in the Danubian principalities. That’s what they sought and claimed. That’s why the Revolution started there and not in the Peloponnese. There’s always a motive.

D.D.: And national consciousness?

K.K.: I wouldn’t say it existed at first. But over the course of the Revolution, it was formed. When Demetrios Ypsilantis arrived in the Peloponnese, he issued a proclamation essentially saying, “I am your ruler, and you should be grateful.” Naturally, the Peloponnesian notables rejected this, believing that power should lie with them – a belief they continued to hold for years. The revolutionary process didn’t really conclude until 1862, when we expelled King Otto and they became the uncontested rulers of Greece.

Scene 2
Papaflessas’s blackmail: “Either you join, or I’ll start the Revolution without you”
D.D.: So in other words, there was a revolt against the Ottomans, but also internal revolts over power.

K.K.: Isn’t that logical? There were conflicting interests and an ongoing struggle for power. Especially since some participants, in the event of a new state, aimed to assume leadership themselves. They didn’t want someone else swooping in to displace them.

D.D.: So the power struggle was between people like Mavrokordatos and Kolokotronis?

K.K.: The rivalries were far more complex. There were the islanders, the Roumeliotes with their own role, the Peloponnesian notables – all forming various groups that shifted alliances or created new ones depending on circumstances. Things only began to stabilize much later, during Kapodistrias’s time – with him and his camp, and everyone else opposing him.

D.D.: Is it true the Roumeliotes were more prepared than the Peloponnesians? With the meeting that took place in Lefkada, then called Santa Maura?

K.K.: The Peloponnesian notables clearly didn’t want to start a revolution they feared wouldn’t work to their advantage. That’s where Papaflessas’s blackmail came in: “Either you join, or I’ll start the Revolution without you.” It made sense – the notables held power in the Peloponnese at the time. Why would they risk it? Same with Hydra. The Revolution wasn’t started by Kountouriotis, who actually opposed it. It was initiated by second-tier captains, forcing the prominent figures to follow. The island’s big names had much to lose. To put it another way: the only major study we have on the Filiki Eteria, by Fragkou in his dissertation (still not translated into Greek), shows that the Peloponnesian notables joined the society precisely when they were under enormous pressure from Ali Pasha’s son, Veli Pasha, who was in the Morea.

D.D.: Why was Veli pressuring them?

K.K.: Because he wanted to curb their power and bring them under control. Don’t forget, local Ottoman authorities had alliances with Greek notables. Veli aimed to dominate all those power networks in the Peloponnese. Similarly, in Central Greece, armatoloi were under heavy pressure from Ali Pasha, who sought to replace them with Albanians or loyal followers. That’s when they too joined the Filiki Eteria – when they felt the pressure and feared losing their positions, their armatolikia. Later, as those pressures eased, they became more focused on how to act if an uprising against the Ottomans did occur.

Scene 3

“When a warlord holds power over a wide area, he doesn’t want to lose it”
D.D.: The insurgents’ thinking wasn’t about liberating the country, but about defending their own local interests.
K.K.: When you fight for so many years alongside many others, you develop a sense of shared purpose. In many cases, some had a sense of the future. When Mavrokordatos arrives in Greece – and Aris Hatzis has described this beautifully – he’s animated by an idea of what he wants to see happen. But that wasn’t the case for everyone. When a warlord holds power over a wide region, he doesn’t want to lose it. There’s a doctoral dissertation that was submitted at Harvard by a compatriot of ours, Soukrou Ilitsak. He’s Turkish by origin, but now a naturalized Greek. He’s published all the documents of the Ottoman administration during the Revolution. And we get to see the Revolution from a different perspective. What is it? That alongside what we call the Greek Revolution, there was a series of other uprisings against the Ottomans around the same time. According to Soukrou, the Ottoman state was applying intense pressure to curb the power of the Ayan – that’s what the Ottomans called the local notables. And they responded with uprisings. It might be worth considering that what we call the Greek Revolution may also fit into that kind of logic, that kind of reaction. It’s no coincidence that the Greek Revolution coincided with so many other uprisings by local leaders in Bulgaria, Serbia, and elsewhere.

D.D.: Was the Filiki Eteria [Friendly Society] created for those reasons?
K.K.: The Filiki Eteria was created by three merchants of minor significance: Tsakalov, Skoufas, and Xanthos. Three men in Odessa, completely marginalised, not exactly successful in their professional lives. But at the same time, they had a sense that they needed to claim something more — they needed to claim their freedom from the oppressor, the Ottoman.

D.D.: So they did have that intention.
K.K.: Of course they did — they were the ones who prepared and organized the Revolution. Initially, recruitment into the Filiki Eteria was very limited. It increased significantly when the headquarters moved to Constantinople. There, many were recruited — mostly merchants and ship captains passing through Constantinople on their way elsewhere. So they didn’t stay long enough to take risks. They pledged to support the Filiki Eteria. Still, don’t imagine it was some huge mass organization. We know the Society had 1,100 members, if I’m not mistaken. But the numbers seem to have grown when it became clear in Odessa that a revolution was indeed going to happen. And so, without great risk, Greeks rushed to support Ypsilantis.

Scene 4

“Of course the 1821 Revolution has many dark corners”
D.D.: What role did Russia play? Many believe they helped us.
K.K.: There’s no indication that Russia helped. That’s clear mainly from the Tsar’s reaction when news of the Greek Revolution reached him. Ypsilantis wanted to see the Tsar as a fatherly protector. Wishful thinking. What Russia really wanted — as was only natural — was to play its own geopolitical game, and at that moment, the Greeks were getting in its way. Let’s not forget, this was right after the Napoleonic Wars, when none of the Great Powers wanted fresh turmoil. They just wanted to recover and jointly manage Europe’s problems.

D.D.: I don’t know how that belief came about, that the “blond race” helped us.
K.K.: At some point they did help, when a new Russo-Turkish war began. That’s when the Ottomans were under great pressure to make concessions to Greece. But let me remind you — it was the Russians who initially suggested two semi-independent principalities under the Sultan. That was one of the solutions proposed. A principality in the Peloponnese, one in Central Greece — something like that. That plan was eventually shelved. And with the intervention of the Great Powers — intentional or not — a Greek state was created.

D.D.: The Revolution had ended, nothing remained. Ibrahim had burned everything in the Peloponnese.
K.K.: But the French had arrived — under General Maison — and disembarked at Petalidi, very close to where Ibrahim was. That’s what finally forced him to leave the Peloponnese.

D.D.: So the Revolution has a lot of dark corners.
K.K.: Of course it does. What I believe is that to truly understand it, we have to let go of concepts and frameworks that are outdated. Like the logic of the bourgeois revolution — the idea that a rising middle class sparks an uprising.

D.D.: Like what happened in France in 1789?
K.K.: Even in France that theory is no longer accepted. They’ve abandoned that view for quite a while. But you could say it was the Enlightenment that helped liberate people’s minds and thus led to revolution. That’s the view Korais puts forward. Another theory is to combine both elements. I’m inclined to believe that a revolution is too complex a phenomenon to fit neatly into such models. Human history, in general, is very complex.

Scene 5

“Kolokotronis: a brilliant military leader who became a powerful local boss through the Revolution”
D.D.: What about Kolokotronis’ role? The English historian George Finlay (1799–1875), who was also a Philhellene, doubted him a lot.
K.K.: Well, Finlay is a particularly biased and bitter commentator.

D.D.: He used to say that the Old Man of the Morea had no real strategic ability, that he never entered the battlefield, watched everything from afar — that sort of thing.
K.K.: Kolokotronis was a very shrewd military commander, who managed through the Revolution to become an immensely powerful local chieftain. He established undisputed authority in his area, in Karytaina. If we follow Kolokotronis, the rivalries of that time become very clear. Oikonomou, Kolokotronis’ secretary, wrote a history of the Greek Revolution that basically conveys Kolokotronis’ own views. It’s fascinating to track his conflict with the islanders. The islanders wanted land in the Peloponnese — land across from their islands. Don’t forget, for instance, that Kranidi at the time was one of the biggest financial backers of the Greek fleets. The islanders wanted to expand, they wanted land they didn’t have on their islands. The land opposite, in the Peloponnese, was ideal for that. And that’s where we see Kolokotronis trying to stop them zealously, by every means.

D.D.: Again, it’s about power, about ownership.
K.K.: It always is. That’s how it goes with every revolution — someone always wants power.

D.D.: Yes, but here we’re talking about a national uprising. Not the 1917 Russian Revolution. We’re talking about the liberation of Greece.
K.K.: Even at its simplest reading, this Revolution was about taking power from the Ottomans. The next step was that each of the various groups involved wanted to strengthen their own position against the others — and, if possible, dominate. That’s a crucial point to understand.

D.D.: That’s why tensions escalated and led to two civil wars.
K.K.: Exactly.

Scene 6

The Difference Between Arvanites and Albanians
D.D.: At that time, did an ordinary person — a farmer in the Peloponnese or Roumeli — understand what was going on? Did he want to be liberated?

K.K.: For the most part, such a person would be dependent on a local notable.

D.D.: United with him through language and religion.

K.K.: Mainly through religion. Secondarily through language. Because don’t forget that Souliotes took part in the Greek Revolution — and they were Albanians.

D.D.: And the people of Hydra were Albanians too.

K.K.: They were Arvanites — there’s a difference.

D.D.: What’s the difference?

K.K.: Arvanites are Albanian groups who came down in the 15th century, settled in Hydra, around Athens, and many other regions, and gradually assimilated to a certain extent. It’s something very different from the Albanians who remained in Epirus — in Souli, for example.

D.D.: What role did the Albanians play back then? Could there have been an alliance between Albanians and Greeks against the Ottomans?

K.K.: Some such attempts were made. Remember, the Souliotes participated in the Revolution, they fought on the Greek side. They were Albanians whom Ali Pasha had expelled because they challenged his authority. When the war against Ali Pasha began, they took part in the fighting in their region. They were also part of Byron’s armed guard; they took part in the siege of Missolonghi. Markos Botsaris is one of the key heroes of the Greek Revolution.

D.D.: We keep seeing these events — a challenge to dominance, and it all seems to begin with a kind of localism, I’d say.

K.K.: You said it well. I think all these people who led the Revolution were focused on securing leadership and power in their respective regions — and if possible, expanding it.

D.D.: So, there was no national consciousness, let’s be honest. There was local consciousness — localism.

K.K.: Gradually, there emerged a sense of belonging to a broader community — the “Romioi.” They were “Romioi,” meaning they fell under the Patriarchate of Constantinople. That was the primary unifying element — religion. Beyond that, what set them apart from others was that they spoke Greek — with their own dialects, but still Greek. Korais, the preeminent scholar of the time, wasn’t even sure how we should call ourselves: Hellenes, Graikoi, or Romioi. He eventually settled on “Hellenes,” which was a wise choice, as it established a strong link with the past in the eyes of Europeans.

Scene 7

“The Patriarchate Becomes a Dominant Power Machine”
D.D.: After Rome and the arrival of Byzantium, what was Greece — what was this whole region? Was it barren?

K.K.: It was a relatively sparsely populated region, subordinated to the Eastern Roman Empire — Byzantium. Later, you have the Ottoman Empire, which controls all these territories. And it uses the authority of the Patriarchate to manage and control the populations. That authority expanded over time. From the late 17th into the 18th century, its power stretched across all Orthodox populations of the Romioi. Essentially, the Patriarchate became a dominant power structure, intervening even in the private matters of Christians. And, of course, the Patriarchate was controlled by the aristocracy of the Romioi — the Phanariots. Konstantinos Koumas, an important figure, wrote that the Phanariots didn’t even want to be called Hellenes; they considered themselves the aristocracy of the Romioi. You see, there’s a distinction there. The fact that this revolution led to the creation of a Greek state forces us to refer to it as the Greek Revolution. That makes sense. But in reality, those who revolted saw themselves as Romioi — subjects of the Patriarchate.

D.D.: So, it wasn’t a Greek revolution — it was a Romioi revolution.

K.K.: You could say it started as a Romioi revolution and evolved into a Greek one. Even today, if you go to Istanbul, the Greeks there still identify as Romioi.

D.D.: An ordinary person in Greece today believes history is a tidy story — with a beginning, a middle, and an end.

K.K.: Things are a bit more complicated, more nuanced. There was a study that showed Greeks have very strong opinions about the Greek Revolution, but all their knowledge comes exclusively from what they learned in school. As you can understand, there’s a contradiction there — school-taught knowledge, which is essentially canned, becomes the basis for such strong opinions about what the Revolution was.

D.D.: That happens because national identity needs to be built. We create our myths. But it’s also good to read the other side — the darker side.

K.K.: It’s not necessarily dark. That’s just human reality. Look at our country today. Think about how many different groups clash with each other. Everyone’s trying to grab a bit more than the other. You have constant social confrontation. We shouldn’t forget that — that’s how societies function, that’s the human condition. And if we try to force the Revolution into a mold — a bourgeois revolution or something like that — I think we lose all its complexity and beauty.

Scene 8

“Many Chieftains Became Rich”
D.D.: Were the ordinary fighters paid for their participation?

K.K.: Some were paid. There was also an attempt to form a regular army — but it failed, because the chieftains didn’t want to support it. Of course, to have an army and a navy, you need to get funds from somewhere. Loot from piracy and captured fortresses played a major role in financing the Revolution early on.

D.D.: Looting, in other words.

K.K.: Yes, looting. Initially, the loot was to be divided between the state, the chieftains, and the fighters. Many chieftains became wealthy. Kolokotronis didn’t have any property when he came to help prepare the Revolution. By the end, he had amassed wealth — and so had others. Others, though, ended up penniless. For example, to mobilize the fleet on the islands, the expenses were huge — too much for any single person to bear. After the war, when the Greek state was formed, the islanders demanded compensation from Kapodistrias for the expenses they had borne — primarily Hydra and Spetses. The Koundouriotis family had spent exorbitant sums compared to everyone else to fund the fleet. So, it’s only natural that there would be some kind of reward for those who fought. These were peasants who had to feed their families.

D.D.: So some people made money, and some lost money.

K.K.: Obviously. That always happens. Makriyannis, who wanted to elevate himself as a leader and chieftain, wrote in his memoirs that he had a chest filled with soil and placed coins on top — and he’d show it to his soldiers, saying: “Don’t worry, the money I’ve got in here is for you.”

D.D.: So there was looting.

K.K.: Of course — the description of the fall of Tripolitsa is nightmarish.

D.D.: They left nothing, not even babies. They even tricked the Ottomans, telling them they’d be allowed to leave safely.

K.K.: They let the Albanians leave. Kolokotronis seems to have had an agreement with the Laliots that he’d let them go. Lala is a village in the region of Ilia. But in the meantime, others stormed in. If I remember correctly, the Laliots escaped, they made it.

D.D.: They came in and left nothing standing — not even a baptismal font.

K.K.: It’s said that the Greeks’ equipping with firearms was completed after the fall of Tripolitsa. Until then, they didn’t have many. They’d kill and take weapons.

D.D.: And it’s also said that Ali Pasha helped in that, indirectly — because the Ottomans had left those areas to fight him. So the regions were emptied of troops, and the insurgents came in and swept through everything.

Epilogue

The national vision of an illiterate man, “the bastard of the nun”
After an hour of conversation, just as Kostas Kostis was getting up to go teach, I thought to ask him about the sheer heroism of those self-serving warlords.

D.D.: Still, there were moments of staggering heroism. Athanasios Diakos, who was impaled, resisted to the very end. And then there’s Karaiskakis — another towering figure — who, in 1823, sent this reply to Mahmud Pasha: “You send me a firman, telling me to surrender. Well, Pasha, I asked my cock itself, and it told me not to bow to you.”

K.K.: You’re absolutely right. There were moments of tremendous greatness from people who, in many cases, were self-interested — but at the critical moment, they rose up with immense, heroic stature. Karaiskakis is one of those personalities who joined the Struggle later on but quickly realized where their true interest lay.

D.D.: And he had a national vision. This illiterate man, this “son of the nun,” this bastard.

K.K.: Karaiskakis is exactly that kind of case. Odysseas Androutsos played both sides. He wanted to keep on good terms with everyone, hold onto his money, and maintain control over his region. A revolution is also a process of purification — in the sense that those who take part in it, at some point, try to transcend their past and transform themselves into something else. That’s exactly the case of Karaiskakis, as you rightly mentioned.

D.D.: A prime example. What’s striking about everything we’ve been discussing is that these self-interested men showed an unbelievable, unprecedented heroism. That redeems them — and that’s what we remember.

K.K.: That’s how national heroes are made. Botsaris took part in a revolution that led to the creation of a Greek state. He died in that revolution — and became a national hero.

D.D.: Papaflessas — another exceptional case. Out of everything that happened back then, from the creation of the Greek state, what sins still follow us today?

K.K.: I don’t know if I’d go that far back to look for sins. I believe today’s Greece is a postwar creation. That’s where we should look.

Have we understood it? That light walks side by side with darkness? That no one — and nothing — is ever just one or the other? The contradictions and the clashes. The dialectic of human existence. That’s why the motive of the 1821 revolutionaries is, on the one hand, self-interest — and, on the other, the annulment of that same self-interest through the incredible, majestic heroism they rose to by sacrificing their very lives!