While these eccentricities prevailed at home, abroad the gamester-spirit of the Cretan scored its crowning triumph. By the Treaty of Sèvres (10 Aug., 1920), which embodied the territorial arrangements already made at San Remo, Greece obtained practically the whole of Thrace outside the enclave of Constantinople, and a mandate over Smyrna and its hinterland. No doubt, this enormous extension of the kingdom, though still largely problematical, appealed to that compound of idealism and greed (mostly greed) which constitutes Hellenic, as it does all other, Imperialism. But it did not fully compensate for the suppression of popular liberties within its frontiers. Except among the followers of M. Venizelos the national aggrandisement evoked but little enthusiasm: "What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" wrote one of the Opposition leaders, voicing a widespread sentiment—a sentiment which, only two days after the publication of the Treaty (12 Aug.), found sinister expression. As he was about to leave Paris, M. Venizelos was shot at and slightly wounded by two Greek ex-officers. The assailants, on being arrested, declared that their object had been "to free Greece from its oppressor and to ensure freedom for their fellow-citizens." [3]
The Paris outrage had a sequel at Athens, as significant and more tragic. The followers of M. Venizelos, like those of King Constantine, included a set of fanatics who preached that the salvation of the country demanded the extirpation of their adversaries. To these zealots the moment seemed propitious for putting their doctrine into practice. "Hellenes!" cried one of their journals, "our great Chief, our great patriot, the man who has made Greece great and prosperous, the man who has made us proud to be called Greeks, has been murdered by the instruments of the ex-King. Hellenes, rise up all of you, and drive the murderers out of the fatherland." The Hellenes in general remained unmoved. But some gangs of hooligans did rise up (13 Aug.) and, under the eyes of the police and the gendarmerie, wrecked a number of Royalist newspaper {222} offices, clubs, cafés, and sacked the houses of four prominent anti-Venizelist statesmen. The authorities, on their side, had a dozen leaders of Opposition groups thrown into prison and, pending their conviction, M. Repoulis, a Minister who in the absence of M. Venizelos acted as his Deputy, declared that the attempt on the Premier formed part of a plot long-planned for the overthrow of the regime: it had failed, but the heads of the culprits would fall without fail. In fact, one of the Opposition leaders—Ion Dragoumis, son of the ex-Premier of that name—was assassinated by the Cretan guards who had arrested him. The others, after being kept in solitary confinement for twenty-four days, had to be released for want of any incriminating evidence.
M. Venizelos in Paris, when he heard of the riots, was reported as being beside himself with righteous indignation; and he sent a strongly-worded telegram to the Government, expressing the fear that part of the responsibility for the disorders rested upon its organs, and assuring it that he should exact full account from everyone concerned.[4] But when he returned home he publicly embraced M. Repoulis, who explained in the Chamber to the entire satisfaction of his Chief that the Government had been overawed and very nearly overthrown by the extremists in its own ranks (8 Sept.).
Everything that could be done—short of a massacre—to disorganize and to intimidate the Opposition having been done, martial law was suspended (7 Sept.), and the question of Elections began to engage M. Venizelos's attention seriously. It was a trial which involved his political life or death, and therefore required the utmost care and vigilance: one ill-considered step, one omission on his part might send him to his doom.
He began with the enfranchisement of Thrace (9 Sept.). This province, still under military occupation and martial law, was to vote: further, a political frontier was erected between it and the rest of Greece, which only those possessing a special pass could cross, whilst a rigorous censorship kept all anti-Venizelist newspapers out of it; and, lastly, it was enacted, for the benefit of an electorate alien in its majority and unable to read or write Greek, that the {223} Thracian votes, contrary to the general rule, should be polled by ballot paper, instead of by a ball.
Another Bill enabled the army on active service, for the first time in the history of Greece, to participate in elections, the assumption being that among the soldiers Venizelist feeling predominated, or that, at all events, they would be controlled by their officers.
As exceptional importance has always attached to the district and city of Athens—"which," M. Venizelos said, "symbolizes the very soul of the country," [5]—it was incumbent upon him to pay special attention to this area. The difficulty was that the actual population was notoriously unsympathetic. M. Venizelos hastened to overcome this difficulty by three strokes of the pen: 18,000 refugees from all parts who lived on the Ministry of Public Relief were enrolled as Athenian citizens; to these were added some 6,000 Cretan gendarmes and policemen; and, to make up the deficiency, 15,000 natives of Smyrna, supposed to have earned Greek citizenship by volunteering in the war, had their names inscribed on the electoral lists of Attica.
There followed promises and warnings. On the one hand, the people were promised fresh labour legislation, the conversion of the great landed estates into small holdings, and public works on a large scale. On the other hand, they were warned that an adverse vote from them would have disastrous consequences for the country: Greece had been aggrandized by the Allies for the sake of M. Venizelos; if she discarded him, she would forfeit their goodwill and her territorial acquisitions. But M. Venizelos and his partisans did not trust altogether to the practical sense and the Imperialist sensibilities of the people.
For months past the extremists among his followers openly threatened that, if by any mishap Venizelos did not win the day after all, they would make a coup d'état and strike terror into the hearts of their adversaries. This threat, which primarily presented itself as an extravagance of irresponsible fanaticism, was on 7 September officially espoused by M. Venizelos, who declared in Parliament that, should perchance his adversaries obtain a majority in the new Assembly, and should that Assembly decide {224} to convoke a Constituent Assembly, and should this Constituent Assembly invite King Constantine back, the "Reaction" would find itself confronted with the hostility of a large political party which had become the mortal enemy of the ex-king; and he went on to foreshadow a fresh schism in the army: that is, civil war. Encouraged by so solemn a sanction, Venizelist candidates—notably at Tyrnavo in Thessaly and Dervenion in Argolis—told their constituents without any circumlocution that, in the event of a defeat at the polls, the Government would not surrender its power, but would maintain it through the Army of National Defence, which was pledged to a new Revolution: the Parliamentary system would cease to function even in name, and many a malignant would swing.
These appeals to the sovereign people, published in the Royalist and not contradicted by the Venizelist Press, will doubtless seem startling for a Government whose mission was to establish democratic liberties. But they were justified by necessity. M. Venizelos and his partisans could not afford to be very fastidious: their political existence was at stake: they must make every effort, and summon every resource at their command. Anyone who was in Athens at that time and saw the Cretan guards, often with the Premier's photograph pinned on their breasts, assault such citizens as displayed the olive-twig (emblem of the Opposition), or saw the gendarmes, who patrolled the streets with fixed bayonets, protect the excesses of Venizelist bravoes, would appreciate how far the Government was prepared to stoop in order to survive.