The Power of Saying “No”

Every October 28th, Greece remembers a single word that changed its course. That word is Ohi (Όχι), meaning “No.” It’s more than a date or a slogan. It’s a reminder of how courage often arrives quietly, in the space between what’s safe and what’s right.

In 1940, Greece faced an ultimatum. In the dark hours before dawn, the Italian ambassador demanded that Greek soil be opened to foreign troops. It was an indirect way of asking for surrender. Prime Minister Ioannis Metaxas, measured and restrained, replied simply, “Ohi.” That one word held the weight of generations. It was defiance without bravado and duty without hesitation.

By sunrise, Italian forces were crossing the border. Greece, small and strained from years of hardship, met them head-on in the mountains of Epirus. The world expected a swift collapse. Instead, the Greeks fought back, pushing the invaders into Albania. It was the first major victory against the Axis powers in World War II, and it was a moment when history bent, however briefly, toward the brave.

It has been called a David and Goliath story, and that fits. Greece’s army was under-equipped, its people exhausted. Yet something older than fear carried them, and that was the belief that freedom, once surrendered, cannot be reclaimed without blood. Soldiers fought in bitter cold; villagers carried supplies through the snow; families turned homes into hospitals. The cost was staggering, but the dignity remained intact.

Ohi Day is not about triumph; it’s about resolve. It honors those who stood when standing seemed impossible. Their “no” was not loud or glamorous. It was steady. And that steadiness reminds us that resistance does not always roar. Sometimes it whispers, and it still endures.

Here in America, far from the mountain passes of 1940, Ohi Day still speaks. It tells us that doing what’s right often demands sacrifice. That principle can mean loss before it means victory. But it also tells us that such choices shape the world we leave behind. Values, once defended, form the bedrock of a future worth living in.

We live in an age of noise and compromise, where conviction can seem old-fashioned. Yet Greece’s “No” remains as relevant as ever — not as nostalgia, but as a guide. To say “no” when conscience demands it. To stand firm when the ground feels unsteady. To protect what is true, even when it costs us.

So each October 28th, we remember not only what Greece said “no” to — but what it said “yes” to instead: dignity, freedom, and the quiet courage to face the impossible.

Eighty-five years later, the echo of “Ohi” still reminds us: freedom is not given, it’s chosen.