In a development that has all the hallmarks of a Euripidean tragedy rewritten by a committee of hungover civil servants, Greek politician’s mother dies in arson attack, prompting an offer of assistance from British counter-terror specialists. One can almost hear the collective sigh of relief from Whitehall: at last, a crisis that doesn’t involve Brexit, sewage, or Dominic Cummings’ latest hobby. But let us not be flippant too soon, for this is a genuine tragedy, a woman consumed by flames in what appears to be a targeted attack.
Her son, a prominent figure in Greek politics, now faces the unenviable task of mourning while simultaneously fending off the circus of international diplomacy. The British offer, no doubt delivered with the sort of stiff-upper-lip gravitas that makes even the most benign gesture sound like a threat, is a reminder that terrorism has no borders, but that meddling most certainly does. One pictures a squad of MI5 boffins descending on Athens, tweed-clad and carrying thermoses of lukewarm tea, ready to analyse the ash for clues.
Will they succeed? Probably not. Will they produce a report so dense with acronyms that it could be used as a doorstop?
Almost certainly. The Greeks, meanwhile, are no doubt delighted: nothing says ‘we care’ like a team of foreign spooks who can’t pronounce ‘ouzo’. Still, one must applaud the gesture, however hollow.
In a world where arson is increasingly a political tool, what better way to show solidarity than by deploying experts in the art of doing nothing in a foreign language? The investigation will proceed, the media will froth, and somewhere, a Greek widow will weep. But fear not, citizens: Britain is on the case, which means that the real arsonist is probably already dead, and the whole affair will be blamed on Russian bots or a rogue colony of Albanian honey badgers.
After all, in the theatre of the absurd that is modern terrorism, the show must go on, even if the audience is in tears.
