"We are powerful and we will soon be dominant": Golden Dawn's intimidation in the courtroom

How can Greeks ever be sure of justice for neo-Nazi crimes?

Your porno TV channels called me guilty. I will rub the court's decision in your face. We are powerful and soon we'll be dominant.

These were the words last week of Ilias Kasidiaris, second in command of the Greek neo-nazi party Golden Dawn, after leaving the court where was acquitted of being an accessory to the bodily harm and armed robbery of a student in 2007.

In a courtroom occupied by Golden Dawn supporters who wouldn't allow "others" to sit and who would throw abusive remarks at the victim and the witnesses through their teeth, the atmosphere was tense. The few non-Golden Dawn attendees who managed to get hold of a seat, speak of a trial in which the judge lost control early on and the defence was allowed to pressure witnesses and cast doubt over the charges that Kasidiaris had helped those who attacked the student flee in his car. His licence plate number appeared to place him at the scene, but the jury thought different.

Kasidiaris's lawyer argued that users of the Indymedia website had "targeted" him by publishing his license plate number. The claim was supported by the sole testimony of a journalist. No print-out or link to the post was provided.

Was this really enough to convince the jury, or did intimidation play a role? 

"People with long hair were checked before entering the room," one of those present, who prefers to remain anonymous, tells me.

On the contrary, the Golden Dawn guys who had swamped the room from early on, were free to roam in and out unchecked. During the trial Kasidiaris's lawyer was allowed to put on a show, bombarding the witnesses with questions, interrupting their answers and on occasion kept them on the stand after the judge had told them to stand down.

This account points to a phenomenon many have suspected for some time: when it comes to Golden Dawn, Greece's judicial system is unable to enforce proper procedure.

This doesn't only happen with Golden Dawn: less than a month ago, eight policemen were acquitted of attacking and severely injuring a student, despite there being video footage of the incident. But it's the cases involving neo-Nazis that truly shock. In September, a member of the party died in Sparta after a bomb blew up in his hands. (His desired target is still unknown.) An accomplice was arrested, 60 more bombs were found in his house, yet he was allowed to walk free by order of the state prosecutor and the case has since vanished from our radar. It's this same body that failed to rule Golden Dawn illegal when the racist, violent character of the party and its bloody past became known to all.

Kasidiaris, who came to international attention last year when he physically attacked an opposition MP on live TV, was acquitted. But the court was also guilty of something far worse: not protecting witnesses and attendees from pressure and intimidation. According to my source:

After leaving the court, I saw 3-4 guys with shaved heads standing next to the police, taking pictures of anyone who came out of the court. I walked away to avoid being targeted.

How can one seek out justice for the transgressions of the far-right when the police so blatantly disregard the safety of the public? Some Golden Dawn supporters have been arrested and convicted of violent crimes, when they have been caught red-handed. But the party's leadership openly encourages, aids and even perpetrates violence, yet goes unpunished. This atmosphere of impunity will only further discourage witnesses from testifying.

What sort of message does this send, and will Greeks who demand justice ever get to see a system that can deliver it?

Golden Dawn's Ilias Kasidiaris (centre) leaves court in Athens on 4 March. (Photo: Getty.)

Yiannis Baboulias is a Greek investigative journalist. His work on politics, economics and Greece, appears in the New Statesman, Vice UK and others.

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Ankara bombs: Turkey is being torn apart by bad leaders and bad neighbours

This is the worst terror attack in Turkey’s history. In just a few months, hundreds of civilians, Turkish security personnel and PKK members have been killed.

It had already been a deadly summer of political instability in Turkey. And now this. Another massacre – this time at the hand of twin bomb attacks on a peace rally in Ankara, which have killed at least 97 people.

It is the worst terror attack in Turkey’s history. In just a few months, hundreds of civilians, Turkish security personnel and PKK members have been killed. Barely a single day passes in Turkey without some incident of lethal political violence.

Freedom from fear is the very basic principle of human security, which should be protected by any state that wants a true sense of legitimacy over its population and territory. In Turkey, that freedom is under enormous pressure from all sorts of internal and external forces.

Stirred up

There are plenty of competing explanations for the political violence engulfing the country, but none can seriously overlook the impact of Turkey’s bad political leadership.

The terrible, violent summer reflects nothing so much as an elite’s greed for power and willingness to treat civilians as dispensable. This has become particularly apparent since Turkey’s inconclusive June 7 election, and the way various political parties and leaders did all they could to prevent the formation of a viable coalition government.

Ultimately, the power game is simple enough. At the elections hastily called for November, President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s AKP party needs to garner only a few per cent more than it did in June to win the majority it needs for Erdogan to bolster his powers and make himself the country’s executive president.

To that end, pro-government media has been in overdrive throughout the summer, deliberately fuelling an environment of division, paranoia and mistrust in hopes of winning votes out of pure fear.

All the while, southeast Turkey has endured dreadful violence. Some towns – Cizre, for instance, which was under seige for days – have suddenly found themselves on the front line of renewed fighting between the security forces and the PKK.

The demise of the peace process is not just a failure of diplomacy – it signals that the armed conflict is still hugely politically and financially lucrative to Turkey’s political and military leaders. And the violence they’re profiting from is rapidly corroding social life and human security across the country.

The war next door

But the political instability caused by Turkey’s leaders has been greatly exacerbated by its neighbours, especially the continuing civil war in Syria and its deadly ramifications – an influx of jihadist fighters, a massive refugee crisis, and spiralling military interventions.

Since the end of the Cold War, global security has never been so seriously threatened as it is by today’s situation in Syria, which is now host to a head-to-head clash between the interests of Russia, the Assad regime and Iran on the one hand and the US, the EU, their Arab allies, and NATO on the other.

All sides claim to be fighting against the Islamic State and other Islamist extremists, but it’s clear that what’s really at stake is a lot more than just the fate of the jihadists or the political future of Syria. Already there’s an ominous spat underway over Russian planes' incursion into Turkish airspace; NATO has already raised the prospect of sending troops to Turkey as a defensive gesture.

And while it was always inevitable that the Syrian disaster would affect its northern neighbour to some degree, Turkey’s continuing internal political instability is proving something of an Achilles heel. By deliberately forcing their country into a period of chaotic and violent turmoil, Turkey’s leaders have made it more susceptible than ever to the Syrian conflict and the mighty geopolitical currents swirling around it.

And yet they press on with their cynical political ploys – seemingly unmoved by the cost to their people, and unaware that they could just be becoming pawns in a much bigger game.

The Conversation

Alpaslan Ozerdem is a Chair in Peace-Building and Co-Director of the Centre for Trust, Peace and Social Relations at Coventry University.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.