{"id":1749,"date":"2026-05-11T22:40:37","date_gmt":"2026-05-11T19:40:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/imru.ekke.gr\/?page_id=1749"},"modified":"2026-05-11T22:40:37","modified_gmt":"2026-05-11T19:40:37","slug":"greek_attitudes","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/imru.ekke.gr\/index.php\/blogs\/greek_attitudes\/","title":{"rendered":"To understand migration attitudes in Greece, look to the past"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<div class=\"wp-block-group alignfull is-style-section-1 has-accent-5-background-color has-background has-global-padding is-layout-constrained wp-block-group-is-layout-constrained is-style-section-1--1\" style=\"margin-top:0;margin-bottom:0;padding-top:var(--wp--preset--spacing--30);padding-bottom:var(--wp--preset--spacing--30)\">\n<div class=\"wp-block-columns alignwide is-layout-flex wp-container-core-columns-is-layout-794e3cfa wp-block-columns-is-layout-flex\">\n<div class=\"wp-block-column is-layout-flow wp-block-column-is-layout-flow\"><h1 class=\"wp-block-post-title\">To understand migration attitudes in Greece, look to the past<\/h1>\n\n\n<p class=\"has-large-font-size wp-block-paragraph\">Attitudes toward migration are often explained by present-day fears. But new evidence from Greece suggests that how past suffering is remembered, and interpreted, matters even more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<div style=\"height:50px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-small-font-size wp-block-paragraph\">12\/05\/2026 | 9 minutes read<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-columns alignwide is-layout-flex wp-container-core-columns-is-layout-794e3cfa wp-block-columns-is-layout-flex\">\n<div class=\"wp-block-column is-layout-flow wp-block-column-is-layout-flow\" style=\"flex-basis:33.33%\">\n<div class=\"wp-block-group is-vertical is-layout-flex wp-container-core-group-is-layout-831b2db5 wp-block-group-is-layout-flex\">\n<div class=\"wp-block-columns is-layout-flex wp-container-core-columns-is-layout-794e3cfa wp-block-columns-is-layout-flex\">\n<div class=\"wp-block-column is-layout-flow wp-block-column-is-layout-flow\">\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-thumbnail is-style-rounded\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"150\" height=\"150\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/imru.ekke.gr\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/Dimitris_Skleparis.jpg?resize=150%2C150&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-88\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/imru.ekke.gr\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/Dimitris_Skleparis.jpg?resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 150w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/imru.ekke.gr\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/Dimitris_Skleparis.jpg?zoom=2&amp;resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/imru.ekke.gr\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/Dimitris_Skleparis.jpg?zoom=3&amp;resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 450w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 150px) 100vw, 150px\" \/><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-small-font-size wp-block-paragraph\">Dimitris Skleparis<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-small-font-size wp-block-paragraph\">Dimitris Skleparis is Senior Lecturer in the Politics of Security at Newcastle University, and member of IMRU&#8217;s Advisory Board. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-small-font-size wp-block-paragraph\">He has recently published a co-edited volume titled&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/www.taylorfrancis.com\/books\/edit\/10.4324\/9781003467083\/across-aegean-violetta-hionidou-dimitris-skleparis\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">&#8220;Across the Aegean: A Century of Forced Migrations Between Greece and Turkey, 1922-2022&#8221;<\/a>, which uses the 1922-1923 forced population exchange as an intellectual point of departure to investigate the multiple refugee movements across the Aegean and their interconnections.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-column is-layout-flow wp-block-column-is-layout-flow\"><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-column is-vertically-aligned-center is-layout-flow wp-container-core-column-is-layout-0c22cdd7 wp-block-column-is-layout-flow\" style=\"flex-basis:60%\">\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The recent&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/www.theguardian.com\/world\/2026\/feb\/21\/greece-recovers-long-lost-photos-nazi-may-day-executions-athens-kaisariani\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">recovery of long-lost photographs<\/a>&nbsp;from the May Day 1944 Nazi executions in Kaisariani sparked intense reactions in Greece, raising questions about what collective memories of historical victimisation mean today. The debate quickly became strikingly polarised.&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/www.ekathimerini.com\/news\/1295445\/vandals-attack-national-resistance-memorial-in-kaisariani\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">A memorial at the execution site was vandalised<\/a>, highlighting deep and enduring societal tensions surrounding the legacy of the communist resistance in Greece. Yet this should not come as a surprise. There is always a trace of insecurity in how the past is remembered, just as there is always a trace of the past in how we think about security today. Collective memories of historical victimisation shape how we understand threats, draw boundaries between \u2018us\u2019 and \u2018them\u2019, and respond to \u2018others\u2019 in the present. And this is just as true when it comes to migration.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">From toxic affective polarisation in domestic politics to strained relations with neighbouring states, regional geopolitical instability, population decline, and rising migration flows, Greeks today face a wide range of security challenges. But what shapes how people understand and respond to these challenges? I have been researching migration in Greece, the UK, and beyond for more than 15 years, and, having witnessed the 2015-2016 refugee crisis and local responses to it unfold first-hand, I have come to realise that present-day concerns only go so far in explaining attitudes and behaviours. The idea that people back stricter immigration policies simply because, for example, migrants might take jobs, strain schools and hospitals, or make communities less safe is only part of the story. In a country steeped in history and narratives of grief, how past suffering is remembered should also play a powerful role in shaping how people think about migration today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">And this is not just intuition. Research shows that&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/www.academia.edu\/download\/31772952\/Vollhardt_2012_Oxford_Handbook_of_Intergroup_Conflict.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">how societies remember past struggles matters far more than we often assume<\/a>. Collective memories of victimisation do not simply sit in the background; they become embedded in how people make sense of the world, shaping what is seen as a threat, who is seen as responsible, and what kinds of responses feel justified. In contexts where past suffering is central to national identity, these memories can define the boundaries of the political community and legitimise exceptional measures long after the original trauma has passed. From the&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/spssi.onlinelibrary.wiley.com\/doi\/abs\/10.1111\/josi.12007?casa_token=DHbYYTkDId8AAAAA:Aiy0mj8GNATU5Z6-bQ2DNgijOp2nnj0q_gzZlCOPjNuyrX5IgjjvqlAYV6rq5GV7ioo2v-Q0XJdfXL9e\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">Holocaust<\/a> to&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/psycnet.apa.org\/record\/2020-65586-001\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">colonialism<\/a>, studies consistently show that collective memories act as powerful ways of understanding the world. They give meaning to the present, making some political claims feel natural, emotionally resonant, and difficult to contest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">To explore how this plays out in the Greek context, we turned to one of the most formative episodes in modern Greek history: the \u2018Asia Minor Catastrophe\u2019. For Greeks, this is a\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/muse.jhu.edu\/pub\/1\/article\/866554\/summary?casa_token=5FtsShozGrUAAAAA:g6cH7SduNJTUzqnIjxFbxt6Y0pJVd7K8Tc10KvJcD-XPUOvgBGGL6qDpOXmAhDhjPQ8QtDRoYNg\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">foundational trauma<\/a>. Over a million Orthodox Christians were forced to flee their homes, and the collapse of the &#8216;Megali Idea&#8217;\u00a0\u2013 the 19th- and early 20th-century nationalist and\u00a0irredentist project of expanding the Greek state to include historically \u2018Greek\u2019-populated territories, especially in Asia Minor \u2013 marked a profound shift in how the nation understood itself and its place in the world. These memories have not faded. They\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/link.springer.com\/chapter\/10.1007\/978-3-030-60982-5_21\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">continue to be reproduced<\/a>\u00a0through education, public commemorations, and everyday discourse, often reinforcing a sense that Greece has been repeatedly wronged, abandoned, or forced to defend itself alone against external threats. This enduring sense of victimhood \u2013 the tendency to see the nation as \u2018brotherless\u2019, a lasting victim of others, where past injustices and grievances are carried forward \u2013 becomes a lens through which the present is interpreted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">In early 2024, just months after the centenary of the Lausanne Treaty,&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/osf.io\/preprints\/psyarxiv\/2wza4_v1\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">we surveyed over 1,000 Greek citizens<\/a>&nbsp;to explore how these historical memories relate to contemporary attitudes toward migration.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-pullquote has-large-font-size\"><blockquote><p>One of the clearest findings is that people who see their nation as a lasting victim of others are consistently more likely to support restrictive immigration policies, including stronger borders, walls, and intensified patrols.&nbsp;This sense of enduring victimhood turns out to be a stronger predictor of these views; even stronger than how much of a threat people think migration poses today.<\/p><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">It cuts across age, family background, and political leanings, driving support for restrictive immigration policies in a remarkably consistent way. <mark style=\"background-color:#222b49\" class=\"has-inline-color has-accent-5-color\"><em><strong>In other words, attitudes toward immigration are shaped less by how we perceive today\u2019s migrants themselves and more by how our past suffering is remembered<\/strong><\/em><\/mark>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">But collective memory does not speak with one voice. It shapes how migration is perceived, but not always in the same way. Research shows that, in some cases, memories of displacement, loss, and survival can generate empathy. For example,&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/www.journals.uchicago.edu\/doi\/abs\/10.1086\/710016?casa_token=CmEsE-0aGNEAAAAA:lAbMcLA7YqG4qaXwIVz96ZLTwzJhst9ewYa7ehR4Mac22N5p3pU8ZJKp41OO837vsOlp-lVkMGJU&amp;casa_token=yb_5qJjIMYsAAAAA:YdSw3mVlaQEspD5wzwRzm8iz_xU9sOid4MOQK51V9yLMPppvlif4ykMxBIsCRBqBq9f1feQipQ-Q\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">people whose families experienced forced displacement<\/a>&nbsp;are often more supportive of refugees, especially when that past suffering is publicly recognised. But the same histories can also produce the opposite effect.&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/www.tandfonline.com\/doi\/abs\/10.1080\/1369183X.2019.1572499?casa_token=zsfmoMGlFDQAAAAA:1fpiLgxoh0FJniO6GWxyEYkjhKXMrt2boVII4yAVoVEERgjNmXUp0oPJeBXHl-VLxIwFe9MdBwjQgQ\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">In Israel<\/a>, the lessons people draw from the Holocaust \u2013 whether centred on moral responsibility or on protecting the nation at all costs \u2013 are closely linked to how Israelis view immigration. Even comparisons between present-day refugees and past national experiences, such as&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/www.researchgate.net\/profile\/Zsolt-Szabo-12\/publication\/341551061_Studied_and_Understudied_Collective_Victim_Beliefs_What_Have_We_Learned_So_Far_and_What's_AheadWhat_Have_We_Learned_So_Far_and_What's_Ahead\/links\/5f412741a6fdcccc43e6b4ba\/Studied-and-Understudied-Collective-Victim-Beliefs-What-Have-We-Learned-So-Far-and-Whats-AheadWhat-Have-We-Learned-So-Far-and-Whats-Ahead.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">Hungarian exile after 1956<\/a>, can trigger either solidarity or resistance. What matters, then, is not just what is remembered, but the lessons people draw from it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Our findings reflect this distinction clearly. <mark style=\"background-color:#222b49\" class=\"has-inline-color has-accent-5-color\"><em><strong>People may remember the past in the same way but still draw different lessons from it<\/strong><\/em><\/mark>. Some see past suffering as a source of moral entitlement: a justification for doing whatever is necessary to protect the nation in the present. Unsurprisingly, these individuals are more likely to support restrictive and exceptional immigration measures. Others, however, draw a very different lesson. For them, historical suffering creates a sense of moral obligation: a belief that having experienced displacement and loss should make them more cautious about inflicting harm on others. These individuals tend to be less supportive of restrictive immigration policies. In this sense, even the same way of remembering the past can lead to very different immigration attitudes, depending on how it is interpreted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The reactions to the Kaisariani photographs are a reminder that the past does not speak for itself. It is interpreted, and those interpretations are often deeply contested. As I have tried to show, collective memories of historical victimisation can anchor powerful and enduring attitudes toward migration. But they can also pull in very different directions, depending on the lessons people draw from them. Understanding this is not about telling societies what or how to remember, but about recognising how these processes shape the way conflict and insecurity unfold. Ultimately, how societies draw on shared memories of grief (and glory) helps explain not only why polarisation deepens, but also the possibility of finding common moral ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity\"\/>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><em>The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official position of the Interdisciplinary Migration Research Unit (IMRU) or the National Centre for Social Research (EKKE).<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity\"\/>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-group is-style-section-1 has-global-padding is-content-justification-left is-layout-constrained wp-container-core-group-is-layout-236ffaf5 wp-block-group-is-layout-constrained is-style-section-1--2\">\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><strong>Share this article:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity\"\/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Attitudes toward migration are often explained by present-day fears. But new evidence from Greece suggests that how past suffering is remembered, and interpreted, matters even more. 12\/05\/2026 | 9 minutes read Dimitris Skleparis Dimitris Skleparis is Senior Lecturer in the Politics of Security at Newcastle University, and member of IMRU&#8217;s Advisory Board. He has recently [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":1049,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1749","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/PhcU9x-sd","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/imru.ekke.gr\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1749","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/imru.ekke.gr\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/imru.ekke.gr\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/imru.ekke.gr\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/imru.ekke.gr\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1749"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/imru.ekke.gr\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1749\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1775,"href":"https:\/\/imru.ekke.gr\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1749\/revisions\/1775"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/imru.ekke.gr\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1049"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/imru.ekke.gr\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1749"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}