Lazaretto, the small islet across from the city of Corfu, is a place steeped in memories deeply etched in the fabric of Greek history. Few people know of its existence, and even fewer have set foot on its shores. Yet its historical significance far exceeds its modest size. From serving as a quarantine station and medical facility, to becoming a place of martyrdom and collective remembrance, Lazaretto stands as a silent monument across from the touristic and cosmopolitan Corfu. It is a somber reminder of the events that marked the island and modern Greek history.
The name “Lazaretto” derives from Saint Lazarus, the patron saint of lepers and the sick, and is etymologically connected to the European term “lazaretto,” used during the Middle Ages and Renaissance to describe quarantine stations for infectious diseases. This practice originated in Italy and spread to many Mediterranean ports, including Corfu, due to its strategic geographic position and its role as a significant commercial hub. As early as the 16th century, during the period of Venetian rule, the islet was already being used as a quarantine station. Ships arriving at the port of Corfu suspected of carrying contagious diseases, primarily plague or cholera, were required to anchor near Lazaretto, and their crews had to disembark for a mandatory observation period. Thus, the island’s initial use was strictly for public health purposes, with buildings and infrastructure designed to contain potential outbreaks.
Over the centuries, Lazaretto passed through many hands, Venetian, French, British, and finally Greek, after the unification of the Ionian Islands with Greece in 1864. With each new administration, the use of the island changed. Perhaps the most tragic and least known chapter of its history unfolded during the Occupation and the Greek Civil War. During World War II, the island once again served limited health-related functions, but its darkest period began in the post-war years. From 1946 to 1949, Lazaretto was transformed into a concentration camp and a site of executions for political prisoners, primarily leftists and dissidents, during the Greek Civil War.
Dozens of individuals teachers, laborers, students, intellectuals, were taken to the island, accused solely for their political beliefs. Many were executed by firing squads stationed on the island, while others remained imprisoned for months or even years. The execution wall and the names of those who were killed have been preserved and still stand today, bearing silent witness to this grim past. Survivor testimonies describe inhumane living conditions, physical and psychological abuse, and an overwhelming sense of isolation from the outside world.
After the end of the Civil War and the country’s gradual political stabilization, Lazaretto was largely forgotten. Most of its facilities collapsed into ruin, and the island was rarely visited. However, from the 1980s onwards, there was a growing effort to highlight its historical significance. Memorials and commemorative plaques were erected. Each year, a memorial service is held in honor of those who were executed on the island, keeping alive the memory of a brutal and tragic era. Today, Lazaretto falls under the jurisdiction of the Greek Ministry of Culture, with local organizations, associations, and historians playing a crucial role in its preservation. Visitors to the island can see the remnants of the camp buildings, the execution wall, and the island’s small chapel. Though quiet and seemingly abandoned, the atmosphere is heavy with emotion—almost tangible in its intensity.
Despite its profound historical importance, Lazaretto remains one of the most underappreciated historical sites in Corfu. There is no systematic tourism promotion, nor regular ferry connection with the city. This may be intentional to a degree. Lazaretto is not suited for casual visits or frivolous photography. It is a site that demands respect, introspection, and a deep understanding of its meaning.
In the context of contemporary tourism where immersive experiences and the pursuit of deeper meaning are becoming increasingly important Lazaretto could serve as a site of historical education, cultural awareness, and meaningful dialogue. Its story is not just a Corfiot or Greek narrative; it is part of a broader European heritage, a testament to memory, solidarity, and the resilience of human dignity in the face of authoritarianism.
Lazaretto challenges visitors to look beyond the sunlit beaches and the postcard-perfect alleys of Corfu. It invites them to engage with a different layer of the island’s past, a story of suffering, resistance, and remembrance. As Greece continues to reflect on its modern history, places like Lazaretto provide the necessary space for contemplation and understanding. It is a place that calls for quiet reverence, where the past speaks softly but powerfully, urging future generations not to forget.
