When I was a teenager, I visited Athens on my way to see my parents in Pakistan. At breakfast at my hotel, I met a pale man in his 30s and we had a long conversation. He spoke of the need for order in Greece, of the weakness of parliament, of the need for a leader. He spoke of how on the beach that day, he “was going to be white.”
His paleness augured the Generals’ rule from 1968-74.
I also visited the Doxiadis family. The daughter wrote poetry and introduced me to the words of George Seferis. The father was a famous international architect who had designed the ongoing remaking of Rawalpindi as the capital in Pakistan and was a friend of my father. He was a powerful man. I told him of my conversation with the pale man and asked: is fascism possible in Greece? No, he said, not a chance.