We once declared that the first thing to die in war is the truth. Today, along with the truth, morality accompanies death. In war, as painful as it is to realize the necessity of your existence, there are rules. Those rules are once again being broken by my pack of persecutors.

I spent almost two and a half years as a prisoner in their cells of democracy. In hooded interrogation offices, in the corridors and halls of the inquisition, in cages and concrete tombs. And in all these years not a single moment has passed from my mind to bargain my political identity with what it carries as a legacy on it. Today I am back on the streets with a set of restrictions but my conscience is clear for what I have done.
Continue reading Greece: Thanos Chatzianggelou – On the misery of repression towards my family circle →