Hymn To Liberty: Why One Greek Village Sings Their National Anthem

Hymn To Liberty: Why One Greek Village Sings Their National Anthem
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"I cannot stand and sing the anthem," writes Jackie Robinson, baseball legend and one of the most beloved Americans of all time, in his 1972 autobiography. "I cannot salute the flag; I know that I am a black man in a white world." This week, forty four years later, the United States finds itself amidst another anthem controversy. As a powerful statement against police brutality and racial segregation in the country, American football quarterback, Colin Kaepernick, has made public his refusal to stand during the singing of the United States national anthem which, traditionally, is sung before sporting events in America. Here, north of the border, the Canadian national anthem recently underwent a revision in order to include lyrics that are more gender neutral. Self-proclaimed patriots and hyper-nationalists from both countries have raised their fists shouting, "Traitors!". Colin Kaepernick's jersey has been publicly burnt at the stake. United States presidential nominee Donald Trump, on cue, has told Colin to "find a country that works better for him." Division over unity in the name of national pride mixed with a fear of revision. It feels oxymoronic, or maybe just moronic. The narrative to who we are as citizens of these countries and, more importantly, as members of this human race, has been lost. It begs the question, as national identities become increasingly more complex, is it realistic to think that one, single song can encompass who we truly are as a country?

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For the past month, I have been in Greece filming a documentary on youth identity in the nation amidst this current era of austerity and economic downturn. Similar to America, there exists a portion of the Greek populace who find themselves in a war, pitted against the establishment, wearing angrily the scars caused by decades of corruption. A country full of government officials lacking the core values needed to lead. Anarchists wielding molotov cocktails. A police force hiding behind polycarbonate riot shields, unwilling to speak with the other side. A broken judicial system. Homelessness. A refugee crisis. A nation starved and exhausted, craving a moment of unification. I sat, head in my hands, cameras at my ankles, asking the universe for that very moment.

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During our final week of production, we filmed in the village of Kiveri, two hours southwest of Athens. Here, we spent time in a youth development camp run by Canadian-Greek John Karkalatos who, for the past sixteen years, has used the game of basketball to reverse the impact of said corruption and instil a new found sense of self respect, discipline, and national pride within the youth of the village. Three hundred children, from ages three to twenty three, annually take part in John's camp for two months and on the final night play in front of close to three hundred spectators. A triumphant display of the effort, heart, and compassion Greek youth have to offer.

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Near the end of the evening, and during John's closing remarks, he asks the crowd, "Raise your hand if sometime during the last ten years you have sung your country's national anthem." Reluctantly, a few dozen raise their hands, mostly children. A young woman emerges from the crowd, violin in hand. "Just listen," John says. She begins to play the "Hymn to Liberty", Greece's national anthem; 158 stanzas, a poem written by Dionýsios Solomós set to music composed by Nikolaos Mantzaros. Inspired by the Greek War of Independence and dedicated to the hope for freedom.

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She finishes. "Now sing," John says, his head hanging low and his eyes filling with water. "Together. Loudly." Doctors, bankers, professors, farmers, and fishermen alike, singing. Men, women, and children. To my left, a group of three young girls born from Albanian, refugee parents. The lyrics, beautiful as they may be, pale in comparison to the action. The song, as loudly as it may ring, quieted by the sheer passion and penetrating roar of six hundred Greeks, hands to their heart, heads held high.

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Afterwards, John is approached by an older gentleman, who shakes his hand. "Regardless of everything else you accomplished tonight," he says to John. "I want to thank you for that."

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Pride is often misused in this country. Hurling rocks, screaming in agony, and rioting in the streets is easy and it's lazy. It's true, national pride in Greece has forever been linked to resistance of oppression and throughout history, in times of hardship, Greeks often unite in the end to defeat an enemy. Right now, however, the Greek people must cut out the cancer that is self-hate and learn to truly love their country again. There is real work to be done, sweat to be shed. Accept it, embrace those beside you, and take ownership of the issues. Then, when the dust settles and the war is won, do not unclasp your hands as we have done so many times before. I plead with the future generations of Greece that you continue to plant your feet firmly in the ground, brandish proudly your country's flag, and sing its anthem as loudly as you did when there was a gun to your temple. These single, powerful moments of solidarity remind us of our journey to this very place and reaffirm the values we protect. Yes, we need a national anthem. In the right hands, such a thing can unify, inspire, and cultivate happiness. To my fellow Canadians and neighbours to the south, if an anthem no longer represents the people it serves, revise it. Do not burn each other for the sake of protecting archaic and outdated traditions. You are discarding an opportunity that one day, maybe even today, you will need. When you find yourself treading water like the Greeks are, you'll wish you had something to hold onto.

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Up until this point, this film has been a self-funded project. We are asking the public to donate to our cause through our GoFundMe campaign which will recoup our flight and equipment rental costs to date. Thank you so much for your support.

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