Bread And Circuses

My university had a collegiate system; it still does. What this meant was that, in addition to a central student union body politic, each of the college JCRs (junior common rooms) had a mirror political organisation. The "executives" typically comprised half-a-dozen elected "officials". Nowadays, I understand, these have more than doubled; there are even three social secretaries. How many social secretaries does it take to arrange a piss-up? Whatever.

As students, much of our politics was taken ultra seriously. Much of it was also interminably boring and utterly irrelevant. I was president of one of these JCRs. Occasionally, I would lapse into a bout of deranged seriousness before being dragged out of it by being reminded that I was also partly responsible for what was for those already politically correct days an outrageous alternative student publication. (And if one wonders as to some of the origins of contemporary British political correctness, the national student movement under Jack Straw and, in my time, Charles Clarke, is a good place to start.)

Student politics of that time were dominated by the Broad Left (anything from old-style Labour through to Marxist Communism), but the JCRs and the central union were pretty catholic in their executive make-up. Proportional representation and the single transferrable vote saw to it that the executives were coalitions of divergent political ideologies. One JCR was different; two to be exact. Both were "run" by a non-affilated grouping of which I was one. We had a hold over the two JCRs thanks to a wide network of mates, thanks to policies of "bread and circuses" to anaesthetise the masses, thanks to periodic character assassinations of opponents, thanks to the odd bit of manipulation here or there. We were, after a fashion, a nationalist local party who took power mainly for power's sake. We had fallings-out among ourselves, but never for policy reasons because there weren't any, other than making enormous amounts of alcohol dirt cheap. We did more or less as we liked. There were few checks and balances. General meetings that threatened censure were packed with supporters and the amenable, and the publications were under our control. In truth, we were probably more Stalinist than those who were card-carriers.

Local Mallorca politics is like student politics. It mirrors the real thing but is ultimately somewhat futile. Parties follow the mainstream and others are created out of perhaps honourable notions of representation of a people but are also the manifestation of power grab. For an island of some one million people, the number of "colleges" (the municipalities) is prolific; the smallness of the communities feeds the networks of mates who seek and support power. The municipalities can affect certain things, but they are also responsible for their own bread and circuses in the form of fiestas and fireworks; they are social secretariats writ large. There are questionable checks and balances, as the periodic scandals testify to. Ultimately, politics at town hall level and even island level defers to the centre when it comes to the really crucial issues, such as the current economic problems. At a practical level, the proliferation of centres of democracy and the existence of various party groupings spread whatever talent there is thin to the point of debatable existence.

Instinctively, I am drawn to the highly decentralised, local model of democracy, as it exists in Mallorca, but that is not to say that it doesn't have its faults. However, the party structure and the electoral system, which invariably results in coalition, make local politics a playground that imitates Madrid and give rise to in-fighting and cross-party fighting. Localness can lose a local focus when the politics becomes the main purpose. The checks and balances inherent to a coalition seem not to function when one party assumes and asserts greater power. Take the scandals. Theoretically, these should not arise under a system of cross-party executives, but they do. Even trifling matters, such as the use of Catalan only by the Pollensa town hall, as I mentioned the other day, should be challenged and prevented by non-nationalists, but they are not.

The alleged turmoil within the Unió Mallorquina, that has arisen because of the sacking of aides by the UM's tourism minister, and scandals, of which there are two more major ones floating around, have led some to question the purpose and sense of localism. While the party nature of local politics can undermine the credibility of the island's local democracy model, it is not necessarily the case that the scandals do. One reason for their arising is the greater force with which corruption is being tackled than used to be the case. It may once have been the case that those who acted in a corrupt or fraudulent manner would have believed that friends in high places would see to it that they were immune. Not any longer. The mates network is beginning to fall apart in this respect.

What needs to be taken into account is the youthfulness of Mallorcan and Spanish democracy. Thirty years and they are still finding their feet. Pollensa's engagement of an outside company to draw up its budgets may be an admission of lack of competence, but it is competent in admitting an independent analysis; it edges the town halls towards a system of external audit which would check not only the potential for misappropriation but also the dominance of one party's say-so.

There is much that is downright stupid about the island's local politics, but the hope is that, as the model matures and is shaped, that politics becomes less like that of the student JCR and more credible. In the wider scheme of things, it will always be "somewhat futile", but the closeness of democracy is a not unworthy aim and should not be swept away because of the apparent inability of some politicians to see eye to eye or because of scandals.


And still with Pollensa town hall, the pedestrianisation imbroglio now finds the Gotmar revolutionaries willing to indeed take legal action. Garry Bonsall may well feel that there is a chance of success; I hope he's right, it could be an expensive and lengthy process. The environmental pretext for challenging the town hall is one thing, the apparent lack of consultation is another. It is precisely this that should be a central plank of local democracy. If indeed it has not been conducted satisfactorily, then there is much to commend Garry's move. As a test case, it could help to define more clearly the responsibilities of town halls - all part of that maturing and shaping of the local political model.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Hollies. Today's title - English political folky.

(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)