A man dressed in clerical robes shouts at a group of culture workers advocating freedom of expression on the steps of the National Gallery in Athens on Wednesday. [Yiannis Liakos/InTime News]
The decision by the management of the National Gallery – Alexandros Soutsos Museum to keep the traces of the attack by ultraconservative Niki party lawmaker Nikolaos Papadopoulos on four works by artist Christophoros Katsadiotis visibly carries strong symbolic meaning. It transcends the reversal of the image and counters the attempt by supporters to interpret the display of this violent act as a victory.
Free expression is often unsettling, which is why it is constitutionally protected, while criminal sanctions for blasphemy do not exist. However, violence is a real issue, clearly condemned by a large portion of society that believes freedom of expression encompasses not only neutral, harmless ideas but also those that challenge and shock, reaching into the deepest aspects of human existence. Art fulfills its true purpose by provoking thought and raising questions, even if it offends. And the right to offend inevitably conflicts with the right to not be offended. Artists demand absolute freedom, while religious individuals call for absolute respect for sacred matters. Religion and contemporary art have been in conflict since their inception.
Seemingly, both the vandals and the art benefit from attacks on works of art. The vandal becomes infamous, attracting fervent supporters – in this case, voters. The vandalized works, in turn, gain national attention. However, in the process, both sides lose something deeper. Vandalism, an intolerant response to criticism of religion, shrouds a broader group of believers in the darkness of obscurantism. On the other side, the dust stirred up by turmoil clouds the path to understanding the works, destroys the ambiguity that is essential to art, and shifts the conversation away from the crucial issue of what is sacred and what is profane. It also undermines the values of pluralism and tolerance, as does any act of violence.
Moreover, museums are not vaults. The integrity of a work of art is not safeguarded primarily by a glass shield but by the respect shown by those who enter the space, with a benevolent and positive approach. Extreme security measures would diminish the rich intellectual and emotional experience that museums provide, limiting immersion in the depths of existence. Such measures would not resolve the conflict but would only escalate it – the conflict between artistic freedom and the right not to offend the sacred, a conflict made even more blatant by violence.