Yiannis Gounaris is, at least in the popular consciousness, an obscure figure of the Greek Revolution of 1821.
Hailing from Ioannina, he was employed by Omer Vryoni as his official hunter and accompanied him to Missolonghi, which was besieged by Vryoni in 1822. Unable to overcome the town’s defences, Vryoni resolved on a night attack during Christmas, when it was expected that the defending Greeks would be at their most vulnerable. Overhearing the Ottomans discussing the plan, Gounaris was faced with a dilemma. His wife and children were being held hostage for his good behaviour in Arta. Should he keep quiet, thus maintaining his family in safety, or should he find a way to alert the besieged Greeks of their ultimate doom? Ultimately, he chose the latter. When the Ottomans sprung their “surprise” attack, the Greeks were waiting for them. The attack was repulsed and Missolonghi stood, only to fall four years later.
John 15:13
The conventional narrative on the Greek Revolution is generally dualistic to the point of being outright Manichaean. On the one side, representing the forces of light and goodness are the valiant, freedom-loving Greeks, nobly struggling to free themselves from the oppression of the forces of darkness, symbolised by the blood-thirsty Ottomans, on the other side, with their murderous ways and propensity to engage in the wholesale slaughter of their Christian subjects.
When one reads the memoirs of revolutionary heroes, however, one often comes across situations where Greeks were tipped off as to impending danger and even doom by concerned Muslim friends, who thought nothing of placing common humanity above religious affiliation. Yet, as this story of one of the most senior imams of the Ottoman Empire will show, the triumph and tragedy of human decency extended to the upmost echelons of the Ottoman Islamic hierarchy.