Doña Sofía’s nephews become republicans to be able to be Greeks again: jroña que jroña

Jroña que jroña is a saying as Greek as yogurt and means “years and years” in the language of Homer. Decades is how long the family of Mrs. Sofiawhich is that of Felipe VI, waiting for Hellenic nationality. And now to have it they have had to apostatize: renounce their rights to the Throne. That is, embrace the Republic. Yeah, Paul of Greece He is a Republican. And all yours.

Jroña que jroña, the saying that sounds as Hellenic as the echo of a bazuki at dusk, invites us to reflect on the endless loops of history. The Greek royal family—or rather, the ancient Greek royal family—has spent decades hoping to regain a piece of identity that was taken from them as punishment for the mistakes of their lineage. History, like a tragedy written by Euripides, seems not to have finished judging the children of Constantine II.

A few days ago, while the streets of Athens continued to beat to the rhythm of its own modern problems, 50 years were commemorated since the end of the monarchy in Greece. That December 8, 1974, a popular referendum sealed the fate of the last Greek king, Constantine II, who years before had lost not only the throne, but also the favor of his people. Since then, the surname Glücksburg, heritage of a Danish dynasty that never fully took root in the soul of the Greeks, became the sign of an uncomfortable heritage that not even the most nostalgic monarchists could defend with pride.

A family without a country

The case of Constantine II is a comic opera that turns into a tragedy: king at 23, overthrown before he was 30, and exiled for decades. But beyond the loss of the crown, what hurts in this story is the amputation of its national identity. The 1994 law that forced him to renounce the monarchy and accept a surname “provided” was a symbolic act of perpetual exile. Constantine, proud and stubborn, refused to bend the knee. After all, how can a man renounce Greece when he has his name as a surname?

However, the king’s obstinacy was not shared by his heirs. Constantine’s sons, led by Prince Paul, have decided to regain their Greek nationality under conditions that their father would never have accepted. Last Friday, Greece’s Interior Minister Athanasios Balerpas confirmed that at least ten members of the family had sworn allegiance to the Republic, renouncing any claim to the throne and accepting the surname “De Grece.”

Republicans by convenience or by conviction?

The news has sparked a fierce debate. Some celebrate the gesture as a symbolic closure to decades of historic litigation. “It is an unfinished business that we can now overcome as a nation.“said Balerpas, with an optimism that many called naive. Others, especially from the left, view this movement with distrust. Syriza, for example, has criticized the use of the surname.”From Greece“, arguing that it perpetuates an ambiguity that could fuel monarchical fantasies in the future.

Prince Paul, who has lived in London for years and whose lifestyle is closer to a European banker than a Balkan aristocrat, seems willing to close the chapter on the monarchy in Greece. His acceptance of the conditions of the Venizelos Law, which includes the waiver of any claim to confiscated property, marks a stark contrast to his father’s stance. But is this a gesture of sincere reconciliation, or simply a way to ensure that his family can transit Europe with a Greek passport instead of a Danish one?

The weight of a checkered history

To understand this maneuver, we must remember the eventful reign of Constantine II. From the beginning, the young monarch faced a fractured Greece, where the monarchy was seen by broad sectors as a foreign vestige imposed by European powers. His initial support for the colonels’ coup in 1967, followed by a failed countercoup, was the final nail in the institution’s coffin. Exiled and betrayed by former allies such as Konstantinos Karamanlis, Constantine accepted, with bitter resignation, that his time as king was over.

However, his figure never completely disappeared from the Greek imagination. For years, the Glücksburg family was the subject of fascination and controversy. Constantine’s funeral in January 2023, celebrated in Athens with all the royal pomp possible, marked a moment of catharsis for a country still debating whether the monarchy was a historical mistake or a victim of circumstance.

From Greece, but not entirely

The choice of the surname “De Grece” by the exiled royal family has an air of literary irony. This patronymic, adapted from French, was used by Miguel de Grecia, a great-uncle of Constantine, to begin his own naturalization process in 2004. The surname, pronounced “De Gres” in Greek, is an attempt to reconcile a split identity: Greeks in spirit, but foreigners on paper.

Although the gesture of Constantine’s children suggests an attempt to heal historical wounds, it also reveals the persistent tensions between the memory of the monarchy and the reality of the Republic. The political polarization that marked Constantine’s reign has not completely disappeared, and the surname “De Grece” remains a reminder of a past that Greece has not finished resolving.

Jroña what jroña, the circle closes

Thus, the story of the Greek Glücksburg seems to have taken an unexpected, but also predictable, turn. In a country where national identity is a topic of constant debate, the royal family’s symbolic return to Greek citizenship is both an act of reconciliation and a source of new divisions.

Now and then, Constantine’s children can once again walk around the Parthenon with a Greek passport, but the debate about their place in Greek history remains open. Perhaps, as in classic tragedies, this family’s destiny is not to find a home, but to continue navigating between two worlds, carrying the weight of a past that never ends.