As you approach Gallicianò/Gaḍḍicianò from the winding road that climbs up from the coast, you are first greeted by a small votive niche with a mosaic Byzantine-style representation of the Resurrection, signalling a cultural passage of sorts from Latin Catholic Italy to a Greek Byzantine tradition. As you go along the road and turn, there it is. In the heart of Aspromonte, hanging over the dry bed of the Amendolea river, the tiny village stands as a linguistic fortress, a symbol of tenacity and resilience of a special minority community, that of the Greko people.

For those who are not acquainted with this community, Greko people—also commonly (but controversially) called Grecanici—are a linguistic minority found in Calabria, the southernmost tip of Italy, who historically have been speaking Greko, a Hellenic language increasingly influenced throughout the centuries by the Romance linguistic varieties that surround them, and now categorised by UNESCO as “severely endangered” (see Pipyrou 2016). While a fuller picture of the community will emerge below, it is helpful to mention for now that, due to natural disasters in the 1970s, some of the original Greko-speaking villages had to be abandoned, leading to a fatal fragmentation of this primarily agricultural community and to a rapid decline in the use of the language. As of today, Greko survives among only a few hundred speakers—mostly elderly—who use predominantly the local Romance variety, i.e. Calabrian, for everyday communication.

The Byzantine-like mosaic icon at the entrance of the village already warns the attentive visitor of the Greek/Greko spirit that inhabits the Amendolea valley, but it is when you reach the central square of Gallicianò/Gaḍḍicianò that the complex ties that link this area to Greece become visible. Towered by the Catholic church and overlooking the valley below, the square has always been an important meeting place for the community, a place for connections, meetings, dancing parties, and celebrations of all kinds. Every time I visited it, I always felt it as a dense symbolic space of interconnections, not just on a social level but also on an identitarian one. As you enter the square, a sign on the wall locates you in Greko, in Calabrian, and in Standard Modern Greek (henceforth, SMG) in Platía Alimos (Kiazza Alimos [sic], Πλατεία Αλίμου), projecting the community at the centre of a trilingual dynamics that places the Greko minority in relation to the other two dominant worlds, the Calabrian-Italian one and the Greek one. However, when you start to look around the square and you finally turn towards the road you came in from, that is when you see a flag of Greece hanging from the balcony of a private house, reclaiming a perceived lost connection with a Greek cultural horizon.

^{Alimos Square in Gallicianò/Gaḍḍicianò with a Greek flag hanging from a balcony © Claudio Russello}

While it is one of the most photographed corners of the village, I believe this flag to be an indicative symbol of the complex identity layering that characterises the Greko community. I do not aim to explore here the imbrications of Greko identity, which balances between the Calabrian-Italian, the Greek, and the specific Greko one, but I realise how this flag points towards a cultural attitude that binds the Greko people to Greece, and that Greece ‘has been imposing’ on the Greko people.

On the one hand, it is important to acknowledge that Greko people have looked to Greece to build cultural bridges and reclaim the value of their language and heritage, especially since the 1970s, when forced displacement exacerbated cultural and linguistic discrimination in their own country. On the other hand, I claim that Greece, and especially parts of Greek academia, has often approached the so-called Questione Grecanica (the Greko problem) from a nationalist and paternalistic perspective.

On this matter, I wish to discuss in this blog post a recent cultural moment that brought together Greek intellectuals, Greko-language activists, and the very Greko community: the 10^th International Conference on Modern Greek Dialects and Linguistic Theory, which took place between 10 and 12 October 2024 in three Greko villages—Bova/Vùa, Roghudi/Richùdi, and Gallicianò/Gaḍḍicianò. More specifically, I address an article penned by Christina Petropoulou, lecturer of anthropology at Panteion University in Athens and author of a remarkable anthropological study in Gallicianò/Gaḍḍicianò during the 1980s (Petropoulou 2023). Published by the Greek media outlet LiFO, the piece criticises, among other things, the modality in which Greko native speakers were involved during the conference, “exhibited as animals in a zoo or in a circus”. I believe it is important to address the idea of what the “zoo” is and who the “animals” and the “spectators” are in this context.

In her article, Petropoulou (2024) starts by criticising the use of English as a working language of the conference, finding “absurd” the fact that scholars working on Modern Greek dialects and/or on the Greko language—and I want to point out my conscious choice of defining Greko as a language, rather than a Greek dialect—would present their research in a third globally “dominating” language. She discusses how Greece and Greek academia have been linguistically “colonised” by the widespread use of English to the detriment of Greek and how, by adopting English, the organisers have shown a “lack of fundamental respect” (έλλειψη στοιχειώδους σεβασμού) towards the Greko language and its people.

From my personal positionality as an Italian scholar on Greek matters and a Greko activist, Petropoulou’s claims seem to actually enact the same “colonising” attitude she denounces about the dominance of English. A first, almost self-evident, aspect to take into consideration is the fact that the use of English was dictated by the international outreach of the conference and that, being international, the organisers need to take into account a multilingual audience that may not be fluent in Greek and/or Italian. Beyond this point, what do I mean by “colonising attitude” of Greek academics in this matter?

In reading Petropoulou’s article, the impression is that her stance towards the Greko community mirrors the English-Greek dynamics she criticises as “colonial”. One of the main faults in her argumentation is the erasure of the particular linguistic and social situation of Greko by conflating it with that of Greece and SMG, shifting the debate from Calabria and Greko people to ‘mother Greece’, as if Greko and SMG shared a common linguistic status towards English. Exactly because of its minority and endangered status, Greko requires visibility and recognition in order to raise awareness and survive; events such as international conferences and the medium of English as a global lingua franca are inevitable instruments to gain such necessary recognition.

Through her argument, Petropoulou also perpetuates a hard-to-die linguistic narrative that flattens and reduces the many Greek (or Hellenic) languages to mere variations or ‘dialects’ of a same “language of origin” (γλώσσα προέλευσης). The debate of what a language and what a dialect is goes beyond the scope of my article, but I believe it is extremely important to shift the perspective on these so-called ‘dialects’—such as Greko, Cypriot, Pontic, Tsakonian, etc.—and acknowledge their individual stance as parallel developments of a late-antiquity koine or even of different ancient varieties of Greek (see Joseph 2022). Just like the distinction between language and dialect, my claim also amounts to a political stance in defence of Greko and of Greko people against misappropriations and, in fact, colonial attitudes such as the one I am discussing here.

For similar reasons, ever since the call for abstracts, the organisers of the MGDLT10 Conference adopted a radical approach for an academic event: they invited the participants to present their research in any Hellenic language they preferred. This move was intended to ‘elevate’ the status of all ‘varieties’, putting them all on the same level. Although most speakers chose to use English or SMG, there were speakers who presented their work in Cypriot or even in Greko. The local organisers and the activists all presented in Greko or in Griko (the other Hellenic language spoken in Salento, Italy), followed by the English translation.

As mentioned at the beginning, one main tenet of Petropoulou’s criticism on the use of English during the conference is the presence of Greko native speakers and their inability to understand English. In this way, she argues, the native speakers are being “used”, at this conference and in other similar events, as animals in a zoo or in a circus, “persons-objects of a long-gone era”, exhibited as “museum exhibits” or “archaeological findings” to satisfy people’s curiosity. I believe there is a lot to unpack in this claim: what is this zoo/circus cage Petropoulou talks about? Who creates it? And who are the curious people watching the animals in the cage? Considering that the goal of a (modern) zoo is also that of preservation and education, whom is it preserving? And whom is it educating? And finally, if one goes along with the zoo metaphor, who is benefitting from this zoo dynamics?

In order to address these questions, it is first necessary to understand the current socio-cultural situation of the Greko community. Once a cohesive agricultural and pastoral community settled in the southern slopes of the Aspromonte massif in villages nestled over the Amendolea river, Greko people have mostly scattered since the 1970s relocating towards the coast or towards larger urban centres, especially in Reggio Calabria, since their villages were heavily damaged and impacted by natural disasters like floods.

The breaking of the community due to relocation and the inevitable contact with Italian/Calabrian-language speakers determined the decline of the Greko language. This has two main causes: on the one hand, if the speakers are scattered, the community in which the language is used is weakened and disappears, removing the social conditions that make a language live; on the other hand, Greko speakers faced fierce discrimination when they came into contact with non-Greko speaking people, who referred to them as paḍḍeki ‘stupid’ because of their inability to speak the dominating language. Their linguistic difference also impacted their ability to find jobs in the city and, in general, their ability to integrate. This broke the generational transmission of the language, as parents deemed more useful for their children to speak Italian/Calabrian, rather than Greko. After two generations, the number of native speakers has now reduced to few hundreds, most of them aged over 70.

Ever since the 1960s and the “rediscovery” of Greko by the academic community, there has been a flourishing of associations and cultural efforts to preserve the language and educate the public about the struggles this community faces. This is not the place to discuss the different associations and how successful their efforts are, but it is important to briefly present one of the most active associations, which was involved in the organisation of the MGDLT10 conference in October 2024 and has, for over a decade, managed to attract the interest of young generations towards Greko and its use, the Association “Jalò tu Vùa”.

Created in 1972 in Bova Marina/Jalò tu Vùa, the association takes its name from the town itself and brings together native speakers, semi-speakers of the language, and language activists of all ages. As part of its mission, it organises cultural events throughout the year in the traditional villages as well as in Reggio Calabria, educating about Greko culture and, most importantly, re-creating a sense of community in which the language can still be spoken and thus revived. One of their main events is the Greko summer school To Ddomadi Greko (The Greko Week, TDG), in which language classes of all levels (from children to advanced) are also accompanied by talks of scholars and activists presenting different aspects of Greko culture, and by cultural activities, e.g. icon painting, and excursions to places connected to Greko people.

I have personally participated in three editions of TDG and, beyond learning the language and hearing it being actively spoken, what truly impressed me is the relationships and the strong bonds it creates among the participants, especially between the crucial ‘millennial’ and ‘Gen Z’ generations whose grandparents may have spoken Greko but never transmitted it to them. There is a strong desire among these young people to reappropriate a culture that was taken away from them by the socio-historical conditions and to protect this evanescent language that is slowly dying with their ancestors.  

Beyond actively speaking, one key aspect in learning a language is exposure to and contact with native speakers—due to the complex situation I have just outlined, the only way to practice the language with native speakers is by involving the elders and their families. Committed to an ethical approach, the Association ‘Jalò tu Vùa’ and the organisers of the summer school have engaged in a long-term effort to foster and maintain a constant involvement of Greko elders and their families, with a clear intention to reconnect the broken threads of a Greko social network. Their scope, then, is to rebuild a community in which social moments are not necessarily directed towards the active transmission of the language, but in which Greko returns to be actively used as vehicle of communication and preservation of cultural knowledge. During these social moments, the elders often retell their memories of living in the Greko villages before relocation, remembering and reciting traditional folksongs and stories. When these exchanges take place during the summer school, participants get to immerse themselves into the language and the culture, while the elders are finally valorised after decades of discrimination and suppression and find again a community to speak their native language with.

It is within this context and in this spirit that the elders were invited to the 10^th International Conference on Modern Greek Dialects and Linguistic Theory in October 2024. The organisers strongly wanted to involve the local community during the conference, not much for their ‘scientific contribution’ but rather to raise awareness of the struggles of language activism and, more importantly, to bridge the distance that has long separated the lived experience of the Greko community and the academic world. The presence of the elders at a scientific conference, in short, aimed at giving them back agency, putting them on the same platform as the academics and allowing them to talk, instead of being talked about.

This initiative by the activists and the local organisers, therefore, could not be farther from being an act of “exhibiting” the elders like animals in a zoo or in a circus, but rather testifies to the ongoing efforts the activists put in place for the preservation of the Greko language and culture all year round. And, if we wish to further probe the implications of this metaphor, it is important to understand what this circus/zoo is and who creates it.

During the second day of the conference, activists of the Association “Jalò tu Vua” took centre stage to present—in Greko—the reasons why it is important for them to preserve the language and why it was important to host such an international event in the very complicated and difficult context of Bovesía, the historically Greko-speaking area of Southern Calabria; finally, they presented the elders who over the years have bonded with the activists and have often taken an active and fundamental part in the efforts for Greko preservation. It is at that point that the audience started taking their phones out recording the elders speaking or singing, while giggling at the occasional funny moments between the elders. Let us pause and reflect on the dynamics of this scene. The frame in which this (non-consensual) recording took place, I would argue, is not that of anthropological/linguistic research, but that of pure (if not morbid) curiosity for a perceived dying world. Unlike the interest of activists from associations like “Jalò tu Vùa” to help the language survive and to learn from the elders, often the attitude of external onlookers is one of curiosity for something already dead (cf. Petropoulou 1995: 152 and passim).

This is an attitude similar to that one can see also expressed by Greek tourists in the area, who visit Gallicianò/Gaḍḍicianò and the other Greko villages often in organised tours, in their quest for the ‘mythical’ Greko person who speaks in a linguistic variety of their own SMG. Efforts—often by linguists from Greece—to frame the Greko world as a ‘lost’ periphery in a broader network that centres around Greece and SMG feeds the tourist industry that ends up patronising Greko people with the (possibly and hopefully) unwanted effect of some form of Greek cultural colonialism. In other words, a certain Greek academic framing of Calabrian Bovesía (but also of  Salentine Grecía) has an impact on the tourist experience of the area, but also on the local communities, who are often objectified and been told how to identify and perceive themselves. While it is true that the Greko community actively seeks to boost tourism in their area and to create honest cultural bonds with Greece, from the perspective of a minority this is also a necessary move to warrant survival and recognition, leading to an unbalanced power dynamics between Greece and the Greko world, with the former inevitably tending to dominate the latter.

It is necessary to rethink the relationship between Greece, Greek academia, and the Greko community. Calquing Franco Cassano’s (2012) powerful words on Southern thought, we need to give back to Greko people their dignity as subject of thought and interrupt the long sequence whereby they have been thought by the Greeks, the Italians, and others. It is true that Greko is severely endangered and hardly spoken anymore, but these ‘mythical animals’ that tourists and academics come seeking to photograph and record as if in a safari can still speak back. Now, ask yourself, are you willing to listen to them?

  

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

It is of utmost importance for me to thank the Association “Jalò tu Vùa” and the whole team of young inspiring activists behind "To Ddomadi Greko" whom I have met along my Greko journey, in many a scorching hot Calabrian summer and at the 10^th International Conference on Modern Greek Dialects and Linguistic Theory that they managed to organise despite countless difficulties. I thank them for sharing with me their unpublished response to Petropoulou's article, and for taking time to read my thoughts and discuss them together. Their enthusiasm is truly contagious, and it gives us all hope for the future of the Greko language. I am also grateful to the Greek Studies Now editors for giving me precious feedback and, above all, to give a platform for these “Greko animals” to speak back… in English, for all to listen to.   

 

 REFERENCES

Cassano, Franco. 2012. Southern Thought and Other Essays on the Mediterranean (edited and translated by Norma Bouchard and Valerio Ferme). New York: Fordham University Press.

Joseph, Brian D. 2022. “What Is Meant by ‘Modern Greek Dialect’? Some Thoughts on Terminology and Glossonymy, with a Glance at Tsakonian”. Proceedings of the International Conference Series of Modern Greek Dialects and Linguistic Theory, 9 (1), pp. 55-71.

Petropolou, Christina. 1995. “Γνωριμία με τα ελληνόφωνα χωριά: Ελληνικοί απόηχοι στο απομονωμένο Ασπρομόντε της Καλαβρίας” [Acquaintance with the Greek- Speaking Villages: Greek Echoes in the Isolated Aspromonte, Calabria. In Greeks of the Diaspora]. In Ο ελληνισμός της διασποράς: Καλαβρία [Greeks of the Diaspora: Calabria]. Athens: Epta Imeres - I Kathimerini.

Petropoulou, Christina. 2023. «Τα εγγόνια του Ομήρου»: Μνήμη, συγγένεια, ταυτότητα στο Γκαλλιτσιανό της Καλαβρίας [“Homer’s Grandchildren: Memory, Kinship, Identity in Gallicianò, Calabria]. Thessaloniki: Epikentro.

Petropoulou, Christina. 2024. “Η υποστήριξη της κατωιταλικής διά της αγγλικής” [Supporting the Southern Italian Language through the use of English]. LiFO. Online.

Pipyrou, Stavroula. 2016. The Grecanici of Southern Italy: Governance, Violence, and Minority Politics. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.