Bailout country

In a theatre in central Athens, over a thousand tax inspectors have gathered to shout crossly about the latest cuts to their pay and pensions. Eventually the argument, between the government-affiliated union leader and his members, spills out on to the street. The rank-and-file feel betrayed: they were persuaded to accept the first wave of pay cuts earlier this year, and now they are being asked to take even more. This does not feel to them as if they’re being bailed out by kindly neighbours. It feels to these tax inspectors, and to Greeks in general, like humiliation. They feel trapped in an inescapable relationship with sadistic Germany. As the wife of one inspector puts it, Greece is being ‘treated like Hector, being dragged around and around by Achilles’ chariot’.

This is the front line of the euro crisis: resentment all round. Perhaps you’d imagined that Greek taxpayers were out working their fingers to the bone, collecting every euro cent? Not so.