FUTURE historians who try to assess contemporary developments in Greece may be inclined to give a great deal of weight to the military junta that ruled the country from April 1967 until July 1974. They would be wrong. The junta, born in secrecy, comprised no more than about 50 officers. It remained throughout its reign true to its origins. It did not form a party; it did not create new national myths and slogans; it did not aspire to a "new" political ideology or try to appeal to any given social class; it never attempted to mobilize the masses in favor of traditional or new values; it hardly even tampered with the basic Greek institutions—the village, the church, the business community, the upper bourgeoisie or even the political elites and the army. It remained throughout its seven years of rule just as metallic and artificial as the insignia and the decorations of the officers in charge and gained no popular roots. In the literal sense of the term it was a "band of gangsters." The manner in which it collapsed was itself an indication of its artificiality. The conspirators simply fell apart and asked the old political leaders to take over. Ironically enough, with the fall of the junta, the military establishment remained virtually intact; and in the inter-nation crises Greece is facing in its relations with Turkey, its weight is as ominous as before.

With this rather startling observation, we can begin to explore the prospects for democracy in Greece. Having fallen, the junta became a frightful nightmare that had been whisked away to allow a return to the status quo ante. The exiles came back; civil freedoms were restored; newspapers