He was the swift-footed Achilles, the greatest warrior of the Trojan War, a semi-divine hero whose very name was synonymous with speed and power. And yet, for centuries, the smart brilliance of an ancient Greek philosopher has left him perpetually—and quite comically—stuck behind a tortoise. Zeno’s paradox presents a philosophical conundrum that still captivates people millennia after it first questioned the intellectual doctrines of Ancient Greece.

It is a paradox that prompts us to question the nature of motion and reality itself. Specifically, it compels us to explore the infinite—a concept that still confounds quantum physicists today.

Zeno’s Paradox: The problem with Achilles and infinite steps

Picture the scene: Achilles, in all his glorious, muscular beauty, lines up against a tortoise. The tortoise, naturally, gets a head start—a gesture of fair play, one might say, that quickly devolves into philosophical torture.

During this event, Achilles, being well, would instantly sprint past the slow tortoise. But Zeno, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, argued otherwise. Before Achilles can even reach the position where the tortoise started, the cute little animal will have managed to go forward a little compared to its initial position.

When Achilles finally arrives at that particular spot, the tortoise has moved again. This would carry on forever. This continuous cycle, Zeno noticed, continues ad infinitum, meaning Achilles is forever playing catch-up, never truly reaching the tortoise. It sounds childish and blatantly wrong, but is it? Think about it. It makes sense. It’s enough, at least, to make you wonder about what’s real and what isn’t.

This confused the ancient Greeks, whose understanding of infinity was still rudimentary. It challenged the very idea of continuous motion, suggesting that movement itself might be an illusion, a series of frozen moments rather than a fluid progression. Indeed, Zeno’s mentor, Parmenides, had famously argued that reality was static and unchanging, and our perception of movement was nothing but a trick of the senses.

Zeno, always the loyal—and brilliant—student, used his paradoxical skills skillfully as an intellectual shield for this peculiar paradox. One can almost imagine the expressions on the faces of Athenian philosophers as Zeno calmly explained why their fastest runner could never quite outrun a slow tortoise.

Of course, modern humans comprehend concepts such as calculus, therefore understanding that Zeno’s apparent deadlock is resolved. Mathematicians like Newton and Leibniz, centuries later, demonstrated that an infinite series of ever-decreasing distances can indeed sum to a finite total.

This means that in Zeno’s paradox, Achilles does overtake the tortoise; the finish line, for him, is not an illusion. Yet, to dismiss Zeno’s paradox completely as a mathematical footnote and a logical mistake would be to miss its profound impact on human thought.

It was a puzzle that had such a consequential effect that it shaped our understanding of the universe. Consider quantum mechanics, for example, where particles seem to exist in multiple states simultaneously—a concept similar to Zeno’s discomfiting fragmentation of reality.

Our digital devices work by breaking down continuous processes into tiny, distinctive steps. This is similar to how a movie creates the illusion of motion from individual frames. This approach, which traces back to Zeno’s ideas about infinitely dividing space and time, is embedded in much of our modern technology.

However, beyond academia and the complex equations of physics that ordinary people can’t even comprehend, the paradox of Achilles and the tortoise has a surprisingly relatable, almost melancholic, wisdom for our own lives that is easier to grasp.

Achilles and the tortoise as a modern metaphor for our lives

How many times have we felt like Achilles, tirelessly chasing a goal, a dream, or even just the promise of a calmer, better tomorrow, only for it to perpetually remain just out of reach? Life, too, often feels like a series of infinite, tiny steps, each requiring immense effort, each seeming to bring us no closer to the finish line despite the progress we make daily.

Yet, Achilles and the tortoise, when illuminated by the light of calculus, can become a story of hope. It tells us that even an infinite process can have a finite, tangible result, perhaps representing the better tomorrow we all strive for. Progress is undeniably real, however gradually it arrives.

So, the next time you feel stuck, relentlessly pursuing a goal that seems to go further away with every step, remember Achilles and that remarkably slow tortoise.

Zeno, the ancient Greek mastermind, may have created this paradox to confound his contemporaries. But in doing so, he left us with a timeless truth: movement—whether through space, thought, or life itself—is never as simple as it appears. Yet, if we keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if the journey feels impossibly long, like Achilles, we will get there. Eventually.

Related: The Strange Paradoxes and Puzzles of Zeno of Elea

A new bill introduced by the Greek Ministry of Finance recently in the nation’s Parliament includes sweeping salary increases for the highest-ranking officials of the Orthodox Christian Church of Greece. Under the proposed legislation, the Archbishop and Metropolitan Bishops will see their monthly gross pay rise by as much as 95%, standardizing their new salaries at €4,671.90.

Greece to restructure how Bishops are paid

The adjustments, outlined in Article 56 of the extensive finance bill, fundamentally change how the state compensates senior clerics. Rather than utilizing the previous tiered allowance system, the new legislation equals the base pay of Metropolitan Bishops with that of the Archbishop of Athens and All Greece.

Both positions are now pegged directly to the compensation of top government executives. Specifically, the hierarchs will receive 90% of the maximum gross salary allotted to a Ministry General Secretary. The public sector basic salary limit for General Secretaries adjusts to €5,191 effective April 1, 2026. The legislation calculates the new clergy pay explicitly as 90% of this figure. The bill firmly states that no other supplementary benefits or allowances will be paid beyond this established rate.

Prior to this legislative update, senior clergy salaries fluctuated based on specific representation expenses and educational qualifications, such as holding a master’s or doctoral degree. The contrast with the new pay scale is significant:

The Archbishop: Previously earned a monthly gross income ranging from €2,840 to €2,915. The adjustment delivers an approximate 60% baseline increase.

Metropolitan Bishops: Previously collected between €2,400 and €2,475 monthly. Under the new equalization framework, their gross pay jumps by up to 95% to match the Archbishop.

Assistant and Titular Bishops: The bill standardizes compensation for lower-ranking hierarchs, setting their total monthly salaries at exactly 70% of the top-tier rate.

Wider public sector wage adjustments

While initially framed around measures combating the energy crisis and supporting vulnerable groups and pensioners, the bill extends far beyond ecclesiastical pay. The legislative package contains comprehensive wage restructuring for various sectors of the Greek state apparatus.

Articles 49 through 55 dictate specific salary and promotional adjustments for the judiciary and civil service. Judicial officers facing delayed promotions due to a lack of open vacancies will receive calculated percentage adjustments to their base pay, depending strictly on their accumulated years of service.

The bill also implements hard compensation caps for other public servants. Members of constitutionally protected independent authorities who hold supplementary government positions cannot exceed 80% of a judicial officer’s total pay. Finally, the legislation actively standardizes the pay scales for administrative staff serving both the Presidency of the Government and the Presidency of the Republic, ensuring direct alignment with the updated 2026 public sector guidelines.

Ever found yourself scratching your head, wondering if aside from legendary philosophers and epic poets there were also any “tech gurus” in ancient Greece? When the conversation turns to Greek scientific minds, one might think of figures like Archimedes and Euclid and rightly so. However, there’s a name that truly deserves a much brighter spotlight—that of Ctesibius.

Ctesibius was a true genius of Hellenistic Alexandria, who, quite literally, set the wheels (and yes, the water organ, or hydraulis!) in motion. Due to his brilliant mind, he laid down fundamental principles for technologies that, believe it or not, continue to shape our everyday world to this very day.

Ctesibius was one of ancient Greece’s greatest innovators

Born into the vibrant, intellectual epicenter of Alexandria during the Ptolemaic era, Ctesibius became a hands-on inventor, driven by an almost insatiable curiosity to truly understand and harness the raw power of the natural world.

Imagine at a time when entire civilizations relied on human muscle and simple machines, seeing someone create music from water or build a clock accurate for two thousand years. The sheer innovative audacity of Ctesibius was difficult to fathom.

Of course, at a time of wizards, this wasn’t a magic trick but the real, unadulterated brilliance of the mind of this Greek man. His groundbreaking contributions to pneumatics, the study of compressed air, and hydraulics, the science of liquids in motion, were utterly revolutionary for their time, making Ctesibius the “father of pneumatics.”

Just think about the fact that long before your car tires ever saw a pump or your pneumatic drill came to life, Ctesibius meticulously explored the very principles that made these tools possible. It’s a bit humbling, isn’t it, how many unsung heroes from antiquity have genuinely shaped the modern world we so often take for granted?

From melodic water organs to clocks

Among Ctesibius’ most well-known creations was the hydraulis, a genuinely revolutionary water organ. This was, quite simply, the world’s very first keyboard instrument. What an astonishing feat of engineering from over two millennia ago! It ingeniously utilized water pressure to guarantee a completely constant supply of air to its pipes, producing a sound that was remarkably stable and resonant. Imagine the awe of ancient audiences in hearing such a complex, melodic instrument for the absolute first time. It must have felt like nothing short of a miracle.

Beyond the enchanting music, Ctesibius’ improvements to the clepsydra, or water clock, were equally impressive. Prior to this tech guru, water clocks were notoriously imprecise. He revolutionized them through innovative mechanisms for regulating water flow and added an indicator system that provided unprecedented accuracy.

For over 1,800 years, his water clocks were the absolute gold standard in timekeeping. In other words, the pinpoint accuracy of your smartphone’s clock owes an indirect yet profoundly deep debt to a man who lived centuries before the mere concept of electricity was even a thing.

Ctesibius’ impact on our world

While Ctesibius himself may not have managed to become one of ancient Greece’s top names, his principles and inventions survived the test of time. They influenced later Roman and Arab engineers and eventually powered the European Renaissance. The very force pump he designed, for instance, is a direct progenitor of modern pumping systems, absolutely essential for everything from our city water supplies to the fire engines we rely on to keep us safe on a daily basis.

His profound understanding of the properties of air-laid processes set the foundation for all future pneumatic applications which today power everything from colossal industrial machinery to delicate medical devices. Hence, next time you hear the satisfying whoosh of a bus door, the gentle hiss of an automated machine, or simply admire the quiet precision of a modern watch, take a moment to think back to Ctesibius, the ancient Greek tech genius.

A highly ambitious transportation proposal aims to connect Athens with approximately 40 other destinations in Europe through a high-speed “mega-metro” rail network by 2040. Dubbed “Starline,” the blueprint of this plan hopes to replace Europe’s fragmented national railways with a unified 22,000-kilometer (14,000-mile) system, significantly reducing travel times for Greek and European passengers overall, offering a green alternative to short-haul flights.

Developed by the Copenhagen-based think tank 21st Europe, the Starline project proposes five major railway corridors spanning 22 nations across Europe. The proposed routes include Line A from Naples to Helsinki, Line B from Lisbon to Kyiv via Madrid, Line C connecting Madrid to Istanbul, Line D from Dublin to Kyiv, and Line E linking Milan to Oslo. Operating like a city metro on a continental scale and obviously above ground, the network will link European cities under a single transit identity, with trains reaching speeds between 300 and 400 kilometers per hour.

Where do Athens and Greece come into the equation of this Europe-wide system?

For Greece, the infrastructure upgrade would drastically alter regional connectivity within the country and across southeastern Europe. Τhe European Commission recently announced targets to cut Sofia-to-Athens travel from 13 hours and 40 minutes to six hours, and Berlin-to-Copenhagen from seven hours to four.

The proposal complements these targets across the continent, where similar reductions will happen. A trip from Berlin to Copenhagen, from example, will drop from seven hours to four, while historically overnight routes like Kyiv to Berlin will become predictable, direct daytime connections.

Transportation remains one of Europe’s largest climate challenges, generating roughly a quarter of all greenhouse gas emissions. While aviation accounts for a smaller percentage globally, short-haul flights remain the default for millions of European travelers. High-speed rail produces up to 90 percent less carbon dioxide per journey. 21st Europe states that a large-scale shift to rail represents the best path toward meeting the European Union’s 2050 net-zero emissions targets while maintaining fast mobility.

The proposal moves away from traditional railway conventions as the dark blue trains will abandon standard first- and second-class divisions, replacing them with purpose-built spaces such as quiet workspaces, family-oriented sections, ergonomic seating, and communal coffee areas. This layout aims to democratize long-distance travel and prioritize passenger comfort.

The Greek government is reportedly finalizing legislation to impose a 15% tax on capital gains derived from cryptocurrencies, aiming to formally integrate digital assets into the national tax code. According to government officials who spoke to Reuters on Friday, the Ministry of National Economy and Finance in Greece is drafting the bill, which authorities expect to submit to Parliament for approval in the coming months.

Under the proposed financial framework, the initial 500 euros of cryptocurrency profits will remain exempt from the new tax to shield small-scale retail investors. Any capital gains exceeding this threshold will face a flat 15% rate, aligning the taxation of digital assets with traditional securities sales in Greece.

It is believed that people engaged in personal cryptocurrency mining will not face taxation on their yields. However, if the mining operation functions as a registered corporate entity, standard business tax rules will apply.

The current situation regarding cryptocurrency taxation in Greece

At present, Greece operates without a comprehensive legal framework specifically targeting cryptocurrency profits and people making a living out of them. This regulatory gap reflects a broader inconsistency across the European Union, where member states currently lack a unified fiscal system for the rapidly expanding sector. Across the continent, tax rates on digital capital gains vary significantly, ranging from an 8% low in neighboring Cyprus to 30% in France. The upcoming Greek legislation seeks to close domestic loopholes and bring Athens in line with European peers that have already established clear rules for digital investors.

The legislative move coincides with a wider European push to curb tax evasion and financial opacity within the digital space. The European Union recently introduced the Markets in Crypto-Assets (MiCA) Regulation and the DAC8 Directive, which mandate strict reporting standards and demand that crypto-asset service providers share user transaction data with national tax authorities. Greece’s updated tax code will operate in tandem with these measures on a European level.

A pointless measure?

Despite the planned implementation, government sources acknowledged severe difficulties in measuring the actual size of the domestic cryptocurrency market. The vast majority of Greek investors execute their trades through international, offshore platforms rather than locally registered exchanges. This decentralized structure makes it nearly impossible for financial authorities to accurately track the total volume of digital assets held by people. Consequently, the Ministry of Finance has not yet published any specific projections regarding the exact state revenues the 15% tax might generate.

Until the proposed legislation officially becomes law, cryptocurrency profits remain largely undeclared in Greece, leaving a substantial pool of potential state revenue untapped.

Ukraine officially apologized to the Greek government on Friday following the discovery of a Ukrainian sea drone near the Ionian island of Lefkada. The unexpected discovery of the uncrewed surface vessel prompted swift diplomatic action from Athens, which raised serious safety and environmental concerns regarding the military presence in Greek territorial waters.

Last week, the Greek government escalated the issue by lodging a formal double diplomatic demarche. Athens directed its official protests to both the Ukrainian Embassy located in the Greek capital and directly to the Ukrainian Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Kyiv. Greek authorities clearly stated that the stray sea drone severely compromised the safety of civilian maritime navigation in the busy Ionian Sea, which is a popular tourist destination both for Greeks and foreigners. Experts noted that any accidental detonation or collision involving the device could have led to human casualties and inflicted extensive environmental damage on the region’s marine ecosystem.

Ukraine’s response to Greece

In direct response to the diplomatic protest from Athens, Ukrainian Foreign Ministry spokesman Heorhii Tykhyi released a public statement on social media late on Friday evening, addressing the issue. Tykhyi offered a formal apology on behalf of Ukraine, attributing the drone’s errant journey into Greek waters to the unpredictable circumstances generated by the ongoing Russian invasion of Ukraine.

“The Ukrainian side expresses its apologies for the incident, stressing that it was the result of circumstances brought about by the ongoing Russian aggression,” Tykhyi wrote in a statement published on Friday. He argued that the discovery off the coast of Lefkada, along with similar events reported in other regions, demonstrates how the current conflict threatens not only Ukraine but also friendly European states and the broader international community.

Addressing the specific maritime concerns raised by the Greek demarche, the Ukrainian foreign ministry noted its strict commitment to international law and the fundamental principles of civilian maritime safety. Ukraine also reiterated a strong, vested interest in preventing any similar occurrences from happening in the future.

Tykhyi pointed out that international and regional security, specifically maritime safety and combating the operations of Russia’s “shadow fleet,” remain urgent, shared priorities for both Greece and Ukraine. Despite the immediate friction caused by the drone’s discovery, Ukraine utilized the statement to emphasize the strength of its bilateral relationship with Greece.

The foreign ministry expressed deep gratitude to the Greek government and the Greek people, praising the country for its steadfast, continuous support of Ukraine since the very first days of Russia’s full-scale invasion. Kyiv concluded by reaffirming its dedication to deepening these friendly relations and maintaining a constructive dialogue across all areas of mutual interest.

George Souflias, a prominent figure in Greek politics and a long-serving cabinet minister for the center-right New Democracy party, died at the age of 85, it was made public late on Friday evening. Known for his long political career across multiple key ministries and his two bids for the New Democracy (ND) party leadership, Souflias leaves behind an impressive political record spanning over three decades. He had reportedly been facing several health challenges in his final years that led to his death on Friday.

Who Was Souflias

Born on July 7, 1941, during the German Nazi occupation, in the village of Agia Triada in the Farsala municipality of Thessaly, Souflias initially built a career far from politics. He earned a degree in civil engineering from the Polytechnic School of the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki. By 1967, he had established his own design and construction firm in the central Greek city of Larissa, working extensively in the private sector prior to his transition to public service.

His political career launched alongside the restoration of Greek democracy following the junta of 1967–1974. As a candidate for the ND party, Souflias was first elected to the Greek Parliament representing the Larissa constituency in 1974. He quickly established a formidable local stronghold, securing re-election in 11 subsequent national contests: 1977, 1981, 1985, both the June and November elections of 1989, 1990, 1993, 1996, 2004, 2007, and finally in 2009.

Throughout his parliamentary tenure, Souflias was entrusted by party leaders and prime ministers with some of the most critical portfolios in the Greek government. He began his executive service as Deputy Minister of the Interior under Prime Ministers Konstantinos Karamanlis and Georgios Rallis. His influence grew significantly in subsequent administrations. During the Tzannetakis government in 1989 and the later Mitsotakis one between 1990 and 1993, he served as Minister of National Economy. He also held the cabinet positions of Minister of Finance, Minister of National Education and Religious Affairs, and Minister of Environment, Physical Planning, and Public Works (ΥΠΕΧΩΔΕ).

Within the center-right ND party, Souflias was a powerful internal factional leader, mounting two high-profile campaigns for the party leadership. He challenged Miltiades Evert for the leadership in 1996 and subsequently ran against Kostas Karamanlis during the party’s fourth congress in 1997. Both bids were ultimately unsuccessful. Political friction eventually led to his formal expulsion from New Democracy in 1998. The rupture proved temporary, and he was readmitted to the party ranks in 2001, resuming his position as a senior conservative official.

Souflias officially stepped away from public life following the 2009 national elections.

Although he was re-elected as a Member of Parliament for Larissa, he chose to resign his seat immediately. His retirement came amid heavy internal party criticism, as Souflias had been the primary proponent of calling the 2009 snap elections, a strategic decision that resulted in a severe electoral defeat for ND and the landslide election of the center-left PASOK party under George Papandreou, only months before the beginning of the Greek financial crisis. Following the loss, he accepted the political fallout and permanently withdrew from active politics.

Few figures in late antiquity present as compelling a historical debate as Julian the Apostate’s attempt to restore the Greek gods in opposition to Christianity in the Roman Empire.

During his brief but highly consequential reign in the fourth century AD, the Roman Empire stood at a profound religious crossroads. For a short period, Julian attempted to slow the empire’s accelerating Christianization, launching a sweeping effort to revive the ancient Olympian pantheon and return Rome to its traditional pagan practices. His sudden death on the battlefield has led historians to debate how dramatically the cultural trajectory of Western civilization might have shifted had his reforms endured.

Julian was born into the heart of the Constantinian dynasty, a family that had only recently converted to Christianity. Nonetheless, he became the last Roman emperor to openly support and worship the traditional Greek gods. He ruled for only about two years from 361 to 363 AD, but he acted with urgency and purpose. Julian the Apostate initiated an extensive program of philosophical and religious reform, aiming to reverse the Christian expansion advanced by his predecessors. To the growing Christian population, he was seen as a traitor to the new religious order, but to those who still admired the intellectual and cultural legacy of the classical world, he appeared as a philosopher-king attempting to restore an older vision of Rome.

Julian the Apostate’s early life

Julian did not experience the typical sheltered upbringing of an imperial heir. He grew up constantly looking over his shoulder, surviving political purges that eliminated many members of his own family. Although he was raised in a strict Christian environment under the supervision of powerful bishops, he is often understood to have developed a private intellectual attraction to classical texts and traditions associated with the ancient world.

His life took a decisive turn when he went to study in Athens. There, he was secretly initiated into the Eleusinian Mysteries, an experience that deeply shaped his philosophical outlook and strengthened his commitment to rejecting Christianity in favor of Neoplatonism. This forced dual existence helped form a uniquely strategic mindset. He became familiar with the inner workings of the Church, knowledge he later leveraged in support of his own religious and philosophical aims. By the time his troops in Gaul unexpectedly proclaimed him emperor, Julian was convinced that the gods themselves had chosen him to restore the ancient order.

Julian the Apostate as Emperor and the worship of the Ancient Greek gods in the Roman Empire

When he finally took power, Julian did not launch the kind of widespread, violent persecutions often associated with earlier periods of religious conflict. Instead, he pursued a more calculated cultural strategy. His approach focused on weakening Christian influence within imperial institutions while strengthening traditional religious structures. Julian the Apostate reduced the privileges and state support enjoyed by Christian clergy and redirected resources and prestige toward the priesthood of the traditional Greco-Roman religion centered on the Greek gods.

In a particularly controversial move, he restricted Christians from teaching classical literature. His reasoning was that those who rejected the traditional religious framework of Homer and Hesiod should not profit from instructing it. At the same time, Julian sought to make traditional religion more socially competitive by encouraging pagan priests to adopt public charitable functions, including aid for the poor and the establishment of hospitals—areas in which Christianity had been especially successful in gaining support. He appears to have believed that traditional worship had declined not because of its inherent weakness but because its institutions had failed to match the organizational and charitable presence of Christianity.

In practice, many historians argue that this cultural and intellectual strategy posed a different kind of challenge to early Christianity than outright violence. While persecution could strengthen Christian identity through martyr narratives, Julian the Apostate’s policies instead aimed to limit the social structures that supported its continued expansion while restoring the worship of the Ancient Greek gods within the broader Greco-Roman religious tradition.

Unfortunately for his beliefs, that grand vision of such a revived Greco-Roman empire came to an abrupt end in the arid regions of Persia. During a military campaign, Julian was struck in the side by a spear, cutting his reign tragically short. Ancient sources and later traditions continue to debate the circumstances of his death, with some attributing the blow to a Persian soldier and others speculating—without evidence—that it may have come from within his own ranks. The true origin remains uncertain.

A well-known tradition holds that, as he lay dying, Julian the Apostate is said to have declared, “Thou hast conquered, O Galilean,” acknowledging the perceived triumph of Christianity. Whether or not he actually spoke these words, his brief reign left a lasting imprint on Roman and Western history. His efforts to restore the Ancient Greek gods within the Roman world continue to be discussed by historians as a striking moment in the empire’s religious transformation. Even in modern Greek cultural memory, echoes of this tension can still be felt in the broader contrast between the rational legacy of ancient philosophy and the spiritual tradition of Orthodox Christianity.

Every day, thousands of Athenians and visitors pass through Michalakopoulou Avenue, one of the main arteries of central Athens. Yet few know the story of Andreas Michalakopoulos, the forgotten Greek Prime Minister and diplomatic genius whose name the avenue carries.

Who was the man behind the Michalakopoulos name?

Andreas Michalakopoulos was born in Patras in 1876 and went on to become one of the most important statesmen in modern Greek history. He was a man who helped redraw Greece’s borders, solved Athens’ water crisis, and brokered peace with Turkey at a time when Greece couldn’t have suffered more militarily.

Yet most Greeks today could not tell you a single thing about him. History has been unkind to Michalakopoulos, largely because he spent most of his career standing next to one of the most towering figures Greece has ever produced: Eleftherios Venizelos. That proximity was both his greatest role and the reason he is so rarely remembered—a blessing and a curse for a public figure like him. Michalakopoulos rose through the Liberal Party (Κόμμα των Φιλελευθέρων) ranks after 1910, holding portfolios in Economy, Agriculture, and Military Affairs under successive Venizelos governments.

He was not a man who craved the spotlight. He was a man who understood how government actually worked, and he was trusted with the levers of it accordingly—a true politician in the best definition of the term possible. When Venizelos went before the great powers of Europe to argue for a bigger Greece after the First World War, Michalakopoulos was beside him at the negotiating table. He participated in the long, tough diplomacy that produced both the Treaty of Sèvres in 1920 and the Treaty of Lausanne in 1923, the two documents that first promised the unthinkable and then permanently fixed, without too heavy losses, the borders of the modern Greek state. Venizelos got 100% of the credit.

However, Michalakopoulos did much of the work. He became Prime Minister in October 1924, inheriting a country in a genuine, profound, and almost existential crisis. The Asia Minor Catastrophe of 1922 had sent over a million Greek refugees flooding into Greece in a matter of months. From dreams about the reinstatement of Byzantine glory, Greece woke up in ruins, literal and metaphorical. Athens had nearly doubled in population within just a few years, and the city’s ancient water infrastructure simply could not cope. Water was being sold from carts in the streets. Taps ran dry. For a capital city that had stood for thousands of years, it was an embarrassing and dangerous situation. Greece was on the brink of collapse.

Michalakopoulos wasted little time. In December 1924, his government signed a landmark contract with American engineering firm Ulen & Company and the Bank of Athens to construct the Marathon Dam. It was one of the largest infrastructure projects in Europe at the time. The Marathon Dam was a gravity dam built of the famous Pentelic marble—the same stone used to construct the Parthenon—rising 54 meters above the Haradros River outside of Athens. The project cost more than the entire National Bank of Greece and was funded with a $10 million loan. Yes, modern Greece and loans, this stereotypical love affair…

Construction ran from 1926 to 1929. The finished system delivered water to Athens through nearly 880 kilometers (547 miles) of new pipes and was inaugurated in 1931. The water that flows from Athenian taps today finds its roots in that contract and in that decision. Michalakopoulos never saw it completed. A military coup by General Theodoros Pangalos ended his government in June 1925, just months after the contract was signed.

But, thankfully, the work was done. He returned to government as Foreign Minister under Venizelos starting in 1928, and it was here that he made perhaps his most lasting contribution to the nation. Greece in the late 1920s was a country that had been through a lot. The Megali Idea, the great dream of a Greece stretching across the Aegean and into Anatolia, had collapsed spectacularly and catastrophically. The population exchange with Turkey had displaced more than a million people on each side. The two countries were locked in mutual suspicion and unresolved property disputes.

Michalakopoulos understood, more clearly than most, that Greece could not afford to stay that way. On October 30, 1930, he co-signed the Greek-Turkish Friendship Convention, also known as the Treaty of Ankara. He did that alongside Venizelos and Turkish Prime Minister İsmet İnönü. The treaty settled the border, resolved the property claims of the displaced populations, and established naval parity in the eastern Mediterranean.

It was a remarkable diplomatic achievement that helped lay the groundwork for the Balkan Pact of 1934 and brought a genuine, working peace between two nations that had spent generations at war. When Ioannis Metaxas declared his dictatorship on August 4, 1936, Michalakopoulos refused to go along with it. He had spent thirty years building democratic institutions from the inside. He spoke out against the regime and paid a heavy price for it. He was sent into internal exile on the island of Paros. He died on March 7, 1938, aged sixty-one.

Michalakopoulos’ legacy is a strange one: a man who brought water to a thirsty city, helped draw the map of modern Greece, made peace with its archenemy, and died in exile because he would not pretend that democracy was something you could simply switch off. Next time the traffic backs up on Odos Michalakopoulou in downtown Athens, take a moment to read the sign. The water in your glass and the borders of this nation have everything to do with the man it honors.

Throughout history, and since the first exchanges between India and ancient Greece, Greeks have been captivated by the intriguing stories of the mysterious gymnosophists of India or the “naked philosophers.”

These philosophers became infamous for their austere and ascetic lifestyle along with their enigmatic wisdom. There are numerous Greek accounts of these wise people, offering a fascinating picture of the important cultural exchanges between two of the greatest civilizations on Earth.

Encounters with Alexander the Great

One could argue that perhaps the most famous interactions between Greeks and the gymnosophists took place during the campaign of Alexander the Great in India in 326 BC.
Ancient historians such as Onesicritus and Nearchus described (in their works) the dialogues that the great Macedonian Greek commander had with these naked wise men.

During these dialogues, we can see their distinctive disregard for any material possessions and their truly spectacular willingness to embrace death as a part of life. The philosopher Calanus famously demonstrated this by actually setting himself on fire in front of Alexander in an extreme attempt to showcase his fearless nature.

These examples are only a part of the entire collection of accounts that have managed to paint a vivid picture of the unconventional way of life of the gymnosophists. Porphyry, for instance, noted in his works that these Indian philosophers were strictly vegetarians, much like the Brahmins. Their absolute rejection of garments and clothing, in general, along with their distaste for worldly goods in pursuit of spiritual enlightenment made a deep impression on the Greeks, who were genuinely amazed by the dedication of these men.

Ancient Greece’s views on philosophy of India

For the Greeks and their worldview, the gymnosophists represented a very different and acutely unique philosophical tradition with both many similarities to but also divergences from their own. From the accounts of ancient writers we learn that Greeks saw similarities between the ideas from gymnosophists of India and their own Greek philosophical concepts.

The belief of the gymnosophists for example in reincarnation, or metempsychosis, was of particular interest to many. Some scholars even speculated that Greek thinkers such as Pythagoras may have been influenced by Indian thought in the way he shaped his own worldview.

However, it is obvious that the Greeks also noted differences. This is something that probably led to a greater curiosity about and fascination with the Indian gymnosophists. Unlike the gymnosophists, mainstream Greek philosophers tended to engage more with society and politics, becoming much more active in the everyday life of their cities. The radical asceticism of the gymnosophists, on the other hand, as well as their rejection of material life, was more extreme than most Greeks had ever witnessed.

Asceticism and self-denial—from India’s gymnosophists to ancient Greece

What seems to have impressed the Greeks the most about the gymnosophists and their life was their incredible commitment to self-denial and extreme austerity. These naked wise men renounced almost all possessions and lived in the wilderness away from urban centers of the time.

Their sole goal was to pursue spiritual wisdom through material deprivation. To Greek eyes, their extremely ascetic lifestyle represented the ultimate mastery over physical desires and earthly attachments. For the Greeks, this was almost inherently difficult to comprehend, as the Greeks had a fundamentally different view, which was much closer to today’s Western attitude towards material possessions.

This is the reason why the example of living adopted by the gymnosophists inspired some Greek philosophical movements, particularly the Cynics. The Cynics were the ones who emulated the Indian rejection of social norms and material goods in favor of the benefits of asceticism. Christian ascetics also later looked to the Indian philosophers as true role models of self-discipline and pure piety.

India’s gymnosophists and influences on ancient Greece

As is understandable, the gymnosophists played a fundamental role in shaping and affecting the Greek imagination. They appeared as archetypal wise men in works by authors like Plutarch, Lucian, and Clement of Alexandria. Their fascinating way of life continued to amaze later Greek and Roman writers. These writers saw them as exotic embodiments of the philosophical ideal.

More broadly speaking, the Greek encounters with the gymnosophists show us the importance and richness of the cultural exchanges and the discourse of ideas between ancient cultures and civilizations. These Indian wise men expanded many of the Greek notions of philosophy and the possibilities of the ascetic path, even shaping Christian thought, although they lived centuries before the birth of Jesus. At the same time, the Greek accounts give us valuable information about the fundamentals of Indian thought and practice.

Most of us assume that looking after our teeth is a modern habit shaped by supermarket shelves, mint-flavored ads, and childhood dentist scares, but a surviving Ancient Greek toothpaste recipe suggests otherwise.

Sitting quietly in the Austrian National Library in Vienna is one of the most remarkable documents in the history of medicine: a small, faded papyrus from the fourth century AD containing what is widely considered the world’s oldest surviving, precise toothpaste formula.

The existence of this Ancient Greek toothpaste recipe points to something larger at work. By the time it was copied onto papyrus, Greek had long since become the language of science, medicine, and intellectual life across the Mediterranean. This linguistic dominance was a legacy of the conquests of Alexander the Great and, above all, of Alexandria, the city his successors transformed into the ancient world’s foremost hub of knowledge. Even in Roman Egypt, centuries after the Ptolemies had given way to the Caesars, Greek remained the language a physician used when he wanted to be taken seriously.

When was the toothpaste recipe written in Ancient Greek discovered?

The papyrus first came to the attention of modern researchers in 2003, when curators at the Austrian National Library in Vienna identified it while preparing for an international dental congress. It had likely been sitting in the collection for years, its significance unnoticed and largely forgotten. Once translated, however, scholars quickly realized what they were looking at—a toothpaste formula that predates the first commercially marketed toothpaste, Colgate, launched in 1873, by well over fifteen hundred years.

The formula itself is strikingly systematic. The scribe prescribes “a powder for white and perfect teeth” composed of four ingredients: one drachma of rock salt, two drachmas of mint, one drachma of dried iris flower, and twenty grains of pepper. The drachma in this context was a standard unit of Greek medical weight, roughly equivalent to one-eighth of an ounce (about 3–4 grams), part of the same measurement system used throughout the major pharmacological texts of the ancient world. Taken together, the recipe reads less like folklore and more like a physician’s deliberate prescription, carefully calibrated for a patient.

But one might wonder if it actually worked. In 2003, Austrian dentist Dr. Heinz Neuman decided to test it for himself by recreating the formula. His conclusion was cautious but intriguing: the mixture was mildly abrasive and caused slight gum bleeding, yet it also produced a noticeable sensation of cleanliness and freshness. Modern dental science helps explain why. Dried iris flower, or orris root, is now known to contain antibacterial compounds that target the pathogens responsible for gum disease. What might once have looked like ancient guesswork increasingly appears to be empirical knowledge derived through observation and practice. In this sense, modern pharmaceutical science is only now arriving at conclusions the Greeks and Egyptians had already explored more than a thousand years earlier.

None of this should entirely surprise us when we consider the world from which this recipe emerged. Ancient Greece had produced Pedanius Dioscorides, whose monumental work on medicinal plants shaped medical practice for more than a millennium. It had also produced physicians, botanists, and scholars who approached the human body with a level of rigor and curiosity that few ancient traditions matched. The anonymous scribe who recorded this formula was working squarely within that intellectual lineage, effectively encoding practical medical knowledge in Greek because it was the language in which serious medicine was conducted at the time.

The paste itself would have been applied without anything resembling a modern toothbrush. A folded linen cloth or a frayed chew stick—a fibrous twig worn soft at the tip through repeated use—would have served the purpose well enough. The tools were simple, but the intention was essentially the same as ours.

There is a quiet continuity in that detail. The next time you reach for mint toothpaste in the morning, you are participating in a ritual that a Greek-speaking scribe in Roman Egypt thought important enough to preserve on papyrus seventeen centuries ago. The ingredients have been refined, the packaging has changed beyond recognition, and no one is applying the mixture with linen anymore. Still, the impulse behind it—the very human desire for clean, white teeth—remains as old as the ancient world itself, and in many ways, the Ancient Greek world had already put the first working version of the answer into writing.