Greeks were exhilarated in 1981 when Andreas Papandreou and his Socialist Party swept to power. Their enthusiasm has long since turned to bitterness and disbelief as the worst financial and political scandal in four decades engulfs Greece. The press, the Bank of Greece, a magistrate and Parliament are delving into charges of corruption, seeking to uncover how more than $210 million disappeared from the Bank of Crete. Charges of embezzlement, kickbacks and bribery, of banknotes stuffed into briefcases, have been leveled against high officials.
The scandal has scorched the Socialist Party (PASOK), and public cynicism has increasingly focused on the party's leader, Papandreou himself. The Prime Minister last September was already the target of snickering and outrage as he conducted a highly public extramarital liaison with airline flight steward Dimitra Liani, 34. As the parliamentary investigations dug through testimony, the question loomed: Was the Prime Minister aware of the crime all along?
Papandreou has not testified before investigators, though he vehemently denies any involvement in what he calls a "conspiracy aiming to hurt Greece." But investigators have yet to hear from the central figure in the case, George Koskotas, 34, a onetime New York house painter who vaulted to power as the multimillionaire owner of the Bank of Crete. Now jailed in Massachusetts on a variety of charges leveled just before he fled Greece last November, Koskotas is facing extradition to answer accusations of looting his own bank.
Amid more than a dozen lawsuits, much has come out about the vast scandal, but most Greeks believe there is far more to be revealed -- by one man in particular. Given his central role in the affair, Koskotas' version of the dirty dealings could prove to be an imperfect account. Apparently nothing will be resolved until the public has weighed his tale. "At this point," says a frustrated former PASOK member, "we are all waiting to hear what Koskotas has to say."
A plump man with steady dark eyes and a soft voice, Koskotas is no common embezzler. In addition to the Bank of Crete, he owned Grammi, a flourishing publishing empire that operated five magazines, three newspapers and a radio station. He bankrolled big hotels. A year ago, he bought Greece's wildly popular soccer team, Olympiakos. He created one of the world's most advanced printing plants. And until he fled Greece, Koskotas consorted freely with the country's ruling Socialist leaders. At 34, George Koskotas, the Greek wunderkind, had achieved a dazzling reputation in his own land.
Now inside a Salem, Mass., prison, Koskotas has finally decided to talk. His chief motivation, he explains, is a fear that once extradited to Greece he will disappear behind bars -- or be murdered and declared a suicide and thus be unable to present his own version of what happened. He figures his fate in Greece will be worse if Papandreou remains in power; so his motive for speaking may also be to wound the government.