In its edition of 14 April 1881, The Times of London published a striking assessment of the Greek War of Independence (1821–1829). The newspaper observed, with characteristic British understatement:
“Indeed, it has been often said, and without much exaggeration, that Greek independence [1821-29] was the work of Christian Albanians much more than of the Greeks themselves. If most of the astute diplomatists like Ypsilanti were Phanariots, most of the daring leaders like [Marco] Botzaris were Albanians.”
Far from being an exaggeration or a provocative footnote, this statement captures a fundamental historical reality that modern romanticized narratives of the revolution have often downplayed: the military backbone of the Greek uprising was disproportionately provided by Orthodox Christian Albanian communities—particularly the legendary Souliotes.
The Souliotes
The Souliotes were a tribal confederation of Orthodox Albanians (Arvanites) inhabiting the mountainous region of Souli in Epirus. For centuries, they maintained de facto independence from Ottoman authority through fierce guerrilla warfare and clan discipline. Their martial reputation was unmatched in the Balkans.
When the Greek Revolution erupted in 1821, these battle-hardened fighters did not hesitate. Exiled after their final stand against Ali Pasha of Ioannina in 1803, many had gained valuable military experience serving in European armies (including French “Albanian” regiments during the Napoleonic Wars). They returned ready for war.
While Phanariot elites like Alexander Ypsilantis provided diplomatic intrigue and intellectual spark from Constantinople and the Danubian principalities, it was the Souliote captains who supplied the raw courage and tactical brilliance on the battlefield. No figure embodies this better than Markos Botsaris (Albanian: Marko Boçari), the Souliot chieftain immortalized in the accompanying painting.
In August 1823, Botsaris led just 350 Souliotes in a daring night assault on a vastly superior Ottoman-Albanian force (estimated at several thousand) encamped at Karpenisi. The raid disrupted plans to relieve the siege of Missolonghi, inflicting heavy casualties. Botsaris himself was mortally wounded in the fighting, yet his sacrifice became the stuff of legend—celebrated by philhellenes across Europe and inspiring generations. His uncle Notis Botsaris and other Souliot leaders like Kitsos Tzavelas performed equally heroic service, defending key positions and leading irregular bands that tied down Ottoman troops.
Contemporary observers repeatedly noted that the most effective fighting units in the early phases of the war came from these Albanian-speaking Orthodox clans. Their knowledge of mountain warfare, clan-based loyalty, and willingness to engage in close-quarters combat gave the revolution its critical edge when Greek-speaking communities were often divided by local rivalries or still organizing.
Across the conflict
This was not limited to one clan or one battle. Christian Albanians (including Arvanite populations in Attica, Boeotia, the Peloponnese, and the islands) formed a disproportionate share of the daring frontline leadership and shock troops. Many of the klepht and armatolos bands—irregular fighters who harassed Ottoman forces—drew heavily from bilingual Orthodox Albanian communities. In contrast, the Phanariots excelled in administration, foreign advocacy, and high-level coordination, but they were rarely the ones charging into battle with sword and rifle.
19th-century European travelers, historians, and journalists (including those writing for The Times) frequently remarked on this ethnic dynamic. The revolution succeeded not because of a monolithic “Greek” ethnos in the modern sense, but through a coalition in which Christian Albanians provided the indispensable military muscle. The Souliotes’ earlier resistance to both Ottomans and Ali Pasha had already demonstrated their fighting spirit; once aligned with the broader anti-Ottoman cause, they helped turn scattered revolts into a sustained war of liberation.
Why the quote still matters
The 1881 The Times article appeared amid the Eastern Crisis and rising Albanian national consciousness (including the League of Prizren). It reflected a clear-eyed contemporary view unfiltered by later nation-building myths. In the fluid world of the late Ottoman Balkans, identities were often defined more by religion (Orthodox Christianity vs. Islam) and local allegiance than by strict linguistic nationalism. Many Souliotes spoke Albanian (or Arvanitika) as their mother tongue, maintained distinct clan traditions, and yet fully committed their lives to the cause that became modern Greece.
Botsaris and his men did not fight for an abstract “Albanian” state—they fought for faith, freedom from Ottoman tyranny, and the Orthodox communities of the region. In doing so, they helped create the independent Greek kingdom. Their integration into the new Greek nation was so complete that today Botsaris is universally honored as a Greek national hero, despite that he was Albanian.
The dramatic painting accompanying the quote perfectly captures this spirit: armed Albanian warriors in traditional Balkan dress tending to a fallen comrade amid the chaos of battle. It is a fitting visual tribute to the blood, sacrifice, and heroism of those Christian Albanian leaders who turned the tide.
History is rarely simple, but on this point The Times was refreshingly direct: the daring that won Greek independence owed an enormous debt to Marco Botzaris and his fellow Christian Albanians. That truth deserves to be remembered, not obscured.
