We Greeks have learned to live with uncertainty.

During the decade of the crisis, the word “tomorrow” ceased to mean planning and became synonymous with fear.

Closed banks, capital controls, lines at ATMs, images that must never be forgotten, because they were not a historical accident.

They were the result of specific policy choices, specific people, and a specific logic.

Today, when someone talks about stability, public discourse is quick to dismiss it as boring. Stability doesn’t “sell” headlines. It lacks drama. It doesn’t generate viral moments on social media.

And yet, it is precisely this stability that allows a family to plan for its future, an entrepreneur to dare to invest, and a young person to seriously consider staying in Greece instead of taking the first flight abroad.

Stability does not mean stagnation

There is a widespread and deliberately cultivated misconception: that the opposite of stability is change. It is not. Its opposite is chaos. And chaos does not lead to progress—it destroys. We know this well in Greece, because we’ve lived through it.

The challenge of governance is not to make flashy announcements. It is to build quietly, persistently, and strategically. To lay the groundwork so that those who follow can build even higher. That is precisely what is difficult, and that is precisely what is valuable.

The numbers that don’t lie

In recent years, Greece has achieved something that seemed impossible a decade ago.

The growth rate has remained consistently above the Eurozone and EU averages.

In October 2025, unemployment reached its lowest level since 2009. The country has been fully restored to investment-grade status by all major rating agencies, while public debt as a percentage of GDP continues on a steady downward trajectory.

All of the above constitute measurable proof that consistency in governance pays off.

That when a country knows where it’s going and doesn’t change course every time the opposition raises its voice, it ultimately gets somewhere.

Memory as a Political Tool

One of the biggest problems in Greek political life is the short collective memory. We forget quickly. We forget the bailout agreements, the cuts, the closed pharmacies, the lines at hospitals. We forget who led us there and under what pretexts.

The opposition knows this and exploits it. Its political game is well-known: every success is downplayed, every problem is magnified, and every bit of progress is presented as accidental or temporary.

The reason is simple: they cannot sell hope because they have no program. They can only sell indignation. And indignation sells best when people’s memories are short.

This indignation comes at a cost. A real, measurable cost. It creates a climate of uncertainty that discourages investment, wears citizens down, and fuels cynicism.

Cynicism is not a virtue—it is the most convenient excuse for demanding nothing and expecting nothing.

Today’s Challenge

Greece stands at a critical crossroads. Not in the dramatic sense of the past—we’re not talking about survival. We’re talking about the kind of country we want to leave to our children.

We can continue down a path that pays off, that brings investment, jobs, and dignity.

Or we can return to the “let’s tear everything down and start from scratch” mentality—a mentality we’ve experienced before and know where it leads.

Stability is not the choice of the timid or the complacent. It is the choice of those who respect the hard work and sacrifices it took to get us here. It is the choice of those who think not only of the next election, but of the next generation.

We owe this to the Greeks who persevered, who did not leave, who kept the faith even when there was no reason to believe.

And this is what the New Democracy continues to defend—without grandstanding, without populism, through hard work and consistency.

Because stability is not merely an economic term. It is a political responsibility.

*Lefteris Avgenakis is a New Democracy member of parliament representing Heraklion.