Spanish TV, which manages to justify 24-hour news coverage with greater repetition than even CNN or Sky can inflict (meaning an enormous amount of repetition, or at least from experiences of times before I gave them both up as bad jobs), had this thing the other day in which The Four Great Leaders were shown in split screen over and over and over again. Here was a metaphor for the Spanish nightmare of forever being visited in the dead of night by the ghosts of elections failed, failing and yet to fail. Loop after loop was displayed, as I sipped an Americano (a longish process) and waited for something else to appear. It didn't. And it has been much like this for the past how ever months it has been. In they are wheeled (not actually on wheels, which might make for an interesting diversion) by one bloke in white to await the handshake and to then be wheeled in elsewhere by another bloke in white.
We're talking the Mariano-Pedro-Albert-Pablo Show. And tonight's star guest is the King. Whoop! Whoop! In between the two wheeling processes, there is a pause, as each stands alone, face to camera(s), exposed for all to see. Dec (as in Albert, the little C of the C's) made haste with hands, clasped over his crutch. Were his flies undone? Crikey, what a thing that would have been. And would have been even worse, having to adjust one's seating to avoid the King's subsequent growling glare and frantically attempting to up the flies.
Each of The Four Great Leaders in the solitary moments pre-handshake betray a great deal. It's as though they're about to be ushered into the head's study. "Right, Iglesias, bend over. This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you."
Pablo shuffles in stage left (right as you look at it), open-necked shirt and chinos, a dude from the 'hood with attitude. Albert. Well, we already know about Albert. Maybe he in fact had a slight accident in the royal urinal: God, that would be even worse. Pedro, the head boy, for whom a career in consultancy beckons. And finally Mariano. Senior master Mariano, doing the Mariano grinning thing, something tutored into him once he became premier (president). "Oh do try and smile, Mariano." He attempts it and, as ever, fails, managing in the process to look like Papa Smurf.
When the solitary moment is about to pass, the other bloke in white emerges (stage right, left as you look at it) and is followed in by the King. Out goes the hand, the shake is consecrated. Pause for camera(s), and if you don't get a good shot, you can always use the one you took earlier, i.e. the last time The Four Great Leaders had their rendezvous with monarchical fate.
Pablo doesn't shuffle this time, he slopes. "Hey, King bro', wassup!?" and pulls out his phone. "Hey, Pokémon. I found the Pokémon right here in the palace. Cool."
Albert: oh dear. "Never mind, Rivera, just don't do it again." "Sorry, King."
Pedro: "I believe, Your Majesty, that we are in a quadruple-stasis environment situation, demanding a meta-based impact analytical scenario within a re-engineering chaos theoretical paradigm and framework. I've prepared the PowerPoint. Oh, I did go to business school, you know." "I didn't. I was at Georgetown. Washington. A master's in international relations. The sort of thing politicians are meant to do."
Mariano: "This is a song with a nice refrain. Yes, we will sing it once again. From Smurf Land where we belong. All together now. La, la, la, la, la, la ..." The King, hoping against hope that one of The Four Great Leaders is going to present a viable plan to form the next government, turns and looks at the TV screen. Over and over and over. Again.
Index for July 2016
Alcanada power station - 8 July 2016
Alcudia and port developments - 4 July 2016, 5 July 2016
Amnesia and raids on other clubs - 10 July 2016
Brexit and other matters - 13 July 2016
Catalan policies - 15 July 2016, 20 July 2016
Emser, Pollensa - 11 July 2016
Fiestas and attitudes of the left - 9 July 2016
Hotelbeds - 14 July 2016
Individualism in Mallorca - 29 July 2016
Low Cost Holidays - 23 July 2016
Magalluf crime - 12 July 2016, 26 July 2016
Mancor de la Vall demons - 2 July 2016
Moors and Christians, Pollensa - 31 July 2016
Overbooking, occupancy and statistics - 27 July 2016
Palma police corruption - 3 July 2016
Podemos mistrust of PSOE - 18 July 2016
Pollensa town hall rows - 7 July 2016
Sant Crist, Alcudia - 25 July 2016
Seasonal workers - 28 July 2016
Sources of impatience - 22 July 2016
Spanish government - 24 July 2016, 31 July 2016
Tourist tax commission - 21 July 2016
Tourist tax introduction - 1 July 2016, 30 July 2016
Virgen del Carmen - 17 July 2016
Vueling chaos - 6 July 2016, 16 July 2016
When it rains in Mallorca in summer - 19 July 2016
Showing posts with label Election. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Election. Show all posts
Sunday, July 31, 2016
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
All Over The Shop: Spain's election
What a peculiar election that was, and one that went to show again how opinion polls can mislead. Nationally, the Partido Popular, though still 39 seats short of a majority, gained fourteen. If there is any moral sense to elections, then the PP should now not have obstacles placed in front of it in forming a government. Both PSOE and Ciudadanos (C's) lost ground. Podemos only added two, the equivalent to what its partners the United Left had in December.
The peculiarity was mirrored in the Balearics. The expectation had been that Podemos, in alliance with the left-wing nationalists Més and the communist United Left, was going to take a seat off PSOE. That didn't happen. Though the Podemos share of the vote was up, this corresponded to only 6,000 plus votes. There are different ways of interpreting this, and one way is not good news for Més. It received almost 34,000 votes in December. Where did they all go? Plus, and although El Pi is a centre-right nationalist party, it didn't stand this time. Its almost 13,000 votes certainly didn't head the way of Més: they probably went to the PP, which increased its share of the vote by six percentage points and by some 22,000 votes.
Biel Barceló, the Més vice-president of the Balearic government, has suggested that one reason for the PP doing that much better was Brexit. Voters sought "refuge" with the PP. Which doesn't say much for his party or others, therefore. He probably wasn't wrong in his conclusion, though by how much the combined Podemos vote was affected by voters opting for the PP instead would be highly debatable. Més also lost out because of the wacky Sobirania per les Illes (SI), the nationalist-independence grouping formed only a few weeks ago and led by leading "glosador", Mateu Matas aka Xuri. There were over seven thousand votes for them while Pacma, the animal-rights party, added more than two thousand to the December poll.
SI may well have held appeal for the nationalist vote, having been created as a direct result of Més getting into bed with Podemos, characterised by SI as a "Madrid" party.
The results, both nationally and regionally, go to show how all over the shop voting is. But something now has to give. Were there to be yet another election, which itself appears to require a constitutional amendment, the rivals to the PP would be aware that this would most likely only play more into the PP's hands. What has to give are the entrenched positions that were developed after the December election. The PP should be given the job in some way or another, which wouldn't be great news for PSOE's Francina Armengol and her "pact" of Balearic government. But at least PSOE can point to the fact that it gained votes this time round in the Balearics, which wasn't the case nationally. All over the shop.
The peculiarity was mirrored in the Balearics. The expectation had been that Podemos, in alliance with the left-wing nationalists Més and the communist United Left, was going to take a seat off PSOE. That didn't happen. Though the Podemos share of the vote was up, this corresponded to only 6,000 plus votes. There are different ways of interpreting this, and one way is not good news for Més. It received almost 34,000 votes in December. Where did they all go? Plus, and although El Pi is a centre-right nationalist party, it didn't stand this time. Its almost 13,000 votes certainly didn't head the way of Més: they probably went to the PP, which increased its share of the vote by six percentage points and by some 22,000 votes.
Biel Barceló, the Més vice-president of the Balearic government, has suggested that one reason for the PP doing that much better was Brexit. Voters sought "refuge" with the PP. Which doesn't say much for his party or others, therefore. He probably wasn't wrong in his conclusion, though by how much the combined Podemos vote was affected by voters opting for the PP instead would be highly debatable. Més also lost out because of the wacky Sobirania per les Illes (SI), the nationalist-independence grouping formed only a few weeks ago and led by leading "glosador", Mateu Matas aka Xuri. There were over seven thousand votes for them while Pacma, the animal-rights party, added more than two thousand to the December poll.
SI may well have held appeal for the nationalist vote, having been created as a direct result of Més getting into bed with Podemos, characterised by SI as a "Madrid" party.
The results, both nationally and regionally, go to show how all over the shop voting is. But something now has to give. Were there to be yet another election, which itself appears to require a constitutional amendment, the rivals to the PP would be aware that this would most likely only play more into the PP's hands. What has to give are the entrenched positions that were developed after the December election. The PP should be given the job in some way or another, which wouldn't be great news for PSOE's Francina Armengol and her "pact" of Balearic government. But at least PSOE can point to the fact that it gained votes this time round in the Balearics, which wasn't the case nationally. All over the shop.
Thursday, June 23, 2016
The Imploding Socialists: Spain's election
There's an election on Sunday. If it seems as if it's only yesterday since the last election, that's because it was: well, six months ago anyway. But elections come around so often, you can be forgiven for losing track: Spain appears to nowadays operate on the basis of regular election rather than actual government.
So, what has happened in the intervening months? Not a lot. There was of course the farcical failure to arrive at any accord between the parties that would have allowed someone to be permanent prime minister rather than an acting one. Other than that, however, little has changed. Podemos have acquired a new best friend in the form of the United Left and appear destined to take number two spot in the electors' affections. Otherwise, things are more or less as they were. Chaotic.
Will they be any different after Sunday? No. The chaos will remain but it may be diluted somewhat. That will be if PSOE and Pedro Sánchez decide to let the PP and Mariano Rajoy officially continue. The chances are that this would be as a minority government rather than as a coalition, but who knows for sure? Sánchez doesn't, and he may well be out of the equation anyway. PSOE barons are sharpening their knives, unimpressed by the failure to make any headway in the polls.
But Sánchez is a bit like an England football manager. It makes little or no difference who's in charge. Getting anywhere is bound to end in failure. This wasn't once the case with PSOE, but it has never recovered from having been the party that presided over the start of the economic crisis.
Going into the election, everything is so familiar. What was said before the December election still holds true. There are four main parties, two of whom have disrupted the two-party system and another two who too few people like or trust. The PP and PSOE behemoths have been reduced by the dual thrusts of crisis and corruption, to which can be added some all-round nastiness by the PP as well as the A-word: austerity.
But that, you might think, has shifted somewhat. Isn't Spain all the better economically now? Better even than it was six months ago? Maybe, but there are too many voters who are seeing nothing of the recovery and too many who have come to despise the PP for austerity and have thus been seduced by the promised land of Podemos or by the mini-me PP of Ciudadanos.
That isn't wholly accurate of course. The C's are a shiny, bright vehicle compared with the rusting heap that the PP is contriving to just about keep on the road. The C's are also all for the "citizens" - they couldn't be anything else, given that their name means that - and so against corruption. They have some bright young stars, such as their leader, Albert Rivera. Yet somehow they seem to have got stuck. Contrast them with Podemos, who keep managing to move forward: there are some clever bastards in the Podemos ranks, and they have even managed to disguise the disagreements that exist in those ranks.
Alas for Podemos, Pablo Iglesias will not emerge as prime minister. Or it would take a seismic event for him to become so. Perhaps the defenestration of Sánchez might be it. He surely won't survive this second election and another farcical failure to become premier, but would a successor look upon Podemos with any more positive light? Very doubtful. PSOE have been totally humiliated and continue to be. The ultimate humiliation would be to serve in a government under Iglesias. It won't happen.
Closer to home, i.e. Mallorca and the Balearics, there is further humiliation to come. Francina Armengol, head of an unstable government for all that she insists that it is the opposite, must know that the fates are conspiring against her. PSOE in the Balearics seem destined to come third, just as PSOE nationally will. Podemos will become the major force in the "pact". There will be a reappraisal and an even more vicious one if Sánchez allows Rajoy to stop acting and start being premier again.
So what will happen to Francina? Possibly nothing. It may well suit Podemos to carry on with how things are. They can happily continue to dictate policy: even more so, if the election goes the way it is expected to. Francina would therefore seek to assure the "citizens" that there is "normality" and "stability". Though she might not believe it, others in PSOE do. For all her brave talk, it is PSOE that Podemos have been attacking all along, wishing to destroy wishy-washy socialism with the real thing. Podemos can bide their time, believing that Sánchez support for the PP will lead PSOE to completely implode.
So, what has happened in the intervening months? Not a lot. There was of course the farcical failure to arrive at any accord between the parties that would have allowed someone to be permanent prime minister rather than an acting one. Other than that, however, little has changed. Podemos have acquired a new best friend in the form of the United Left and appear destined to take number two spot in the electors' affections. Otherwise, things are more or less as they were. Chaotic.
Will they be any different after Sunday? No. The chaos will remain but it may be diluted somewhat. That will be if PSOE and Pedro Sánchez decide to let the PP and Mariano Rajoy officially continue. The chances are that this would be as a minority government rather than as a coalition, but who knows for sure? Sánchez doesn't, and he may well be out of the equation anyway. PSOE barons are sharpening their knives, unimpressed by the failure to make any headway in the polls.
But Sánchez is a bit like an England football manager. It makes little or no difference who's in charge. Getting anywhere is bound to end in failure. This wasn't once the case with PSOE, but it has never recovered from having been the party that presided over the start of the economic crisis.
Going into the election, everything is so familiar. What was said before the December election still holds true. There are four main parties, two of whom have disrupted the two-party system and another two who too few people like or trust. The PP and PSOE behemoths have been reduced by the dual thrusts of crisis and corruption, to which can be added some all-round nastiness by the PP as well as the A-word: austerity.
But that, you might think, has shifted somewhat. Isn't Spain all the better economically now? Better even than it was six months ago? Maybe, but there are too many voters who are seeing nothing of the recovery and too many who have come to despise the PP for austerity and have thus been seduced by the promised land of Podemos or by the mini-me PP of Ciudadanos.
That isn't wholly accurate of course. The C's are a shiny, bright vehicle compared with the rusting heap that the PP is contriving to just about keep on the road. The C's are also all for the "citizens" - they couldn't be anything else, given that their name means that - and so against corruption. They have some bright young stars, such as their leader, Albert Rivera. Yet somehow they seem to have got stuck. Contrast them with Podemos, who keep managing to move forward: there are some clever bastards in the Podemos ranks, and they have even managed to disguise the disagreements that exist in those ranks.
Alas for Podemos, Pablo Iglesias will not emerge as prime minister. Or it would take a seismic event for him to become so. Perhaps the defenestration of Sánchez might be it. He surely won't survive this second election and another farcical failure to become premier, but would a successor look upon Podemos with any more positive light? Very doubtful. PSOE have been totally humiliated and continue to be. The ultimate humiliation would be to serve in a government under Iglesias. It won't happen.
Closer to home, i.e. Mallorca and the Balearics, there is further humiliation to come. Francina Armengol, head of an unstable government for all that she insists that it is the opposite, must know that the fates are conspiring against her. PSOE in the Balearics seem destined to come third, just as PSOE nationally will. Podemos will become the major force in the "pact". There will be a reappraisal and an even more vicious one if Sánchez allows Rajoy to stop acting and start being premier again.
So what will happen to Francina? Possibly nothing. It may well suit Podemos to carry on with how things are. They can happily continue to dictate policy: even more so, if the election goes the way it is expected to. Francina would therefore seek to assure the "citizens" that there is "normality" and "stability". Though she might not believe it, others in PSOE do. For all her brave talk, it is PSOE that Podemos have been attacking all along, wishing to destroy wishy-washy socialism with the real thing. Podemos can bide their time, believing that Sánchez support for the PP will lead PSOE to completely implode.
Monday, June 20, 2016
Boy And Girl Bands: Podemos and friends
The brotherhood, sisterhood and infanthood descended on Palma en masse during the week. There they all were, Podemos, Més and friends, as though they were about to engage in a benefit gig for the regional electoral amalgamation of You-Nits-Podemés. It was the head mikes that did it of course, making the collective appear as though it were a boy/girl band about to break out with a chorus of Take That's "Everything Changes". In truth, only the Infant Errejón (who was replete with cool, One-D-style, Harry Styles shades but no ponytail) can pass as a member of a boy band. Some, such as Here Come Da Judge, most definitely cannot. As has been remarked previously, Da Judge bears more than a passing resemblance to Jim Bowen in his "Bullseye" heyday, and Jim was certainly not one for indulging in frivolities like being a member of a boy band: "Super, smashing, great."
They all appeared before a banner declaring "The Smile of the Mediterranean". Perhaps they were in fact a Beach Boys trib. What would they sing from the "Smile" album? "Heroes And Villains"? And who would be the villains? Were you watching, Mariano? Alas no. Instead we got, and inter alia, Pablo Iglesias (the sort of Brian Wilson of the band) informing the citizens that "democracy is incompatible with hotel lobbyists who determine political power, some of them having accounts in Panama". Who on Earth could he have possibly been referring to?
The Infant called for there to be an "intergenerational pact", which wasn't quite as alarming as it sounded; it was a pact of votes from different generations, and if anyone was capable of referring to intergenerations, then it was the Infant.
Throughout all of this, there was no mention by Pablo of PSOE. Not that they would have been on the stage anyway, given that You-Nits-Podemés are going to relegate them to the bronze medal on 26 June. And it was well that they weren't. Imagine if Palma's Smiler had been there: mayor Hila who can smile from parts believed unimaginable by mere mortals.
This all took place on Thursday, three days after the Great Debate on Spanish telly. This was notable for the fact that each of the four prime ministerial (presidential) candidates wore a white shirt, the key differences having been that Pablo sported neither tie nor jacket, while Al Rivera of the C's had the whistle on but no Peckham (as in Peckham Rye - tie, if it needs explaining).
The absence of Al's neckwear was presumably designed as a further means of distinguishing him from his double-act partner, Pedro Sánchez of PSOE. True to form, this Ant and Dec duo were arranged with Ant to the left, so that the audience could figure out which one was which.
Amidst all the grimacing and stony looks of the Great Debate - accusations of corruption, all the normal carry-on - there was a spot of smiling too. Mariano doesn't really do smiling. Or not convincingly. His smiling on this occasion was the befuddled grin of a dad back from the pub who comes in to find junior (which one would that be?) entertaining his two chums with the latest Metallica album. When Mazza wasn't trying his hardest to smile, he was letting it be known, among other things, that Ant (Pedro) would be a "dreadful president (prime minister)". Not, it is becoming clearer, that Ant will ever be either.
They all appeared before a banner declaring "The Smile of the Mediterranean". Perhaps they were in fact a Beach Boys trib. What would they sing from the "Smile" album? "Heroes And Villains"? And who would be the villains? Were you watching, Mariano? Alas no. Instead we got, and inter alia, Pablo Iglesias (the sort of Brian Wilson of the band) informing the citizens that "democracy is incompatible with hotel lobbyists who determine political power, some of them having accounts in Panama". Who on Earth could he have possibly been referring to?
The Infant called for there to be an "intergenerational pact", which wasn't quite as alarming as it sounded; it was a pact of votes from different generations, and if anyone was capable of referring to intergenerations, then it was the Infant.
Throughout all of this, there was no mention by Pablo of PSOE. Not that they would have been on the stage anyway, given that You-Nits-Podemés are going to relegate them to the bronze medal on 26 June. And it was well that they weren't. Imagine if Palma's Smiler had been there: mayor Hila who can smile from parts believed unimaginable by mere mortals.
This all took place on Thursday, three days after the Great Debate on Spanish telly. This was notable for the fact that each of the four prime ministerial (presidential) candidates wore a white shirt, the key differences having been that Pablo sported neither tie nor jacket, while Al Rivera of the C's had the whistle on but no Peckham (as in Peckham Rye - tie, if it needs explaining).
The absence of Al's neckwear was presumably designed as a further means of distinguishing him from his double-act partner, Pedro Sánchez of PSOE. True to form, this Ant and Dec duo were arranged with Ant to the left, so that the audience could figure out which one was which.
Amidst all the grimacing and stony looks of the Great Debate - accusations of corruption, all the normal carry-on - there was a spot of smiling too. Mariano doesn't really do smiling. Or not convincingly. His smiling on this occasion was the befuddled grin of a dad back from the pub who comes in to find junior (which one would that be?) entertaining his two chums with the latest Metallica album. When Mazza wasn't trying his hardest to smile, he was letting it be known, among other things, that Ant (Pedro) would be a "dreadful president (prime minister)". Not, it is becoming clearer, that Ant will ever be either.
Monday, June 13, 2016
Shop At The Podemos Ikea
Podemos in Swedish would be "vi kan". Unlike mostly everyone else who struggles to assemble an Ikea flat-pack, Podemos have mastered the art. So well have they managed this, that they are demonstrating their prowess by having nicked - clothes-hook, washing-line, kitchen sink and Allen key - the Ikea brochure. Here we find, among others, Pablo Iglesias, staring at a mobile, seated on a Ikea Vilmar chair (colour white), while the Infant, Iñigo Errejón, is studiously attending to his homework (thesis on the rights of Bolivian tin miners in the pre-Chaco War period of the twentieth century) at what may or may not be a Hemnes desk (brown laminate finish). Others in the Podemos Ikea brochure include the Balearics' own Dave Spart: here is Alberto Jarabo with an Ikea PS 2002 watering can (colour sort of reddish).
Alberto, depicted tending to his flowers on what appears to be a rather cramped balcony, is one of the few (only) Podemistas not to be shown enjoying an appreciable amount of spacious interior design (by Ikea). Indeed, they all look remarkably affluent. How can this be, having insisted on receiving public-service remuneration barely greater than a Mercadona check-out person? Or possibly an Ikea check-out person.
But then one realises that these aren't necessarily their habitats (or Habitats, as in a formerly Conran style). They are in fact suggesting that anyone who votes for Podemos will receive an entire Ikea kitchen, such as the one in which Here Come Da Judge, Juan Pedro Yllanes, the Balearic Podemos number one for Congress, is to be seen taking a fair-sized knife to his lunch preparation. It looks pretty good too. I'll have one. Or would do, if I could have a vote.
Alas, though, this is not a grand means of bribing the voter. There is no such thing as a free lunch prepared in a free kitchen. Next to Da Judge, we find text about policies to bring about stable agrarian work, which isn't the same thing at all as a free kitchen.
So, what do Ikea make of all this? They are stressing that they have nothing whatsoever to do with the campaign and haven't offered any assessment of it. It could, one supposes, be excellent promotion for Ikea, though that might rather depend on voter sympathy. But as a promotion, you have to hand it to Podemos. Superb.
Monday, June 06, 2016
The (Spanish) Governmental Ménage à Trois
So, as the big day looms ever closer and the fateful votes will be cast - and I'm talking not of 23-J but of 26-J - the bookies (were there such a thing) are reporting good money going on a threesome forming the next government. Yes, after one failed election and an even greater failure by Pedro Sánchez to oust Super Mariano, 26-J looks destined to unite Pedro and Mazza. Possibly.
Pedro and Albert, Ant and Dec of PSOE and the C's, are still determined to continue their unconvincing double act and make it even less convincing by inviting Mazza into the political celebrity jungle. Or maybe it's the other way round. Or maybe Super Mariano won't be there at all. That's something else the bookies are laying odds on. Which is hardly surprising. Through all the faffing around after last December's election, it was clear to everyone, except Mariano, that if only he had stepped aside, the grand coalition could have been formed.
As we know, however, Mariano doesn't believe that he has a natural successor. Super Mariano would rule forever if he had his way. But the time is now coming when he will have to give way to an unnatural successor. Who might it be? The bookies are reckoning on the Dancing Queen, María Soraya Sáenz de Santamaría Antón Etc.
None of this will of course go down well with the advocates of governments of change and progressive politics. How would either Ant or Dec be able to spin a cosying up to the PP as representing change or progression? Only if Mariano goes, but even then they would be barely credible. For Ant, meantime, the possibility exists that if PSOE gets a further stuffing, he might no longer be around in any event. I'm a failed politician, get me out of here.
The likelihood of this coalition ménage à trois stems not from any genuine belief among the three parties that it is what any of them wants but from Pedro's fear (or the fear of any successor to him) that he could well find himself forced into being a number two behind Pablo. Podemos have been talking up Iglesias as being the next president, and it most certainly would be president. None of this Anglicised prime minister lark. Pablo, a prime minister serving a Bourbon king? You have to be joking. President it would be.
There is a further reason to believe that there will be this three-in-a-bed liaison. The citizens. They won't accept any more arsing around. They won't want a December election to sort out the mess of 26-J. Something will have to give. And Super Mariano is what will have to give. He can't be like Arsène Wenger, arsing around forever and ever ... .
Pedro and Albert, Ant and Dec of PSOE and the C's, are still determined to continue their unconvincing double act and make it even less convincing by inviting Mazza into the political celebrity jungle. Or maybe it's the other way round. Or maybe Super Mariano won't be there at all. That's something else the bookies are laying odds on. Which is hardly surprising. Through all the faffing around after last December's election, it was clear to everyone, except Mariano, that if only he had stepped aside, the grand coalition could have been formed.
As we know, however, Mariano doesn't believe that he has a natural successor. Super Mariano would rule forever if he had his way. But the time is now coming when he will have to give way to an unnatural successor. Who might it be? The bookies are reckoning on the Dancing Queen, María Soraya Sáenz de Santamaría Antón Etc.
None of this will of course go down well with the advocates of governments of change and progressive politics. How would either Ant or Dec be able to spin a cosying up to the PP as representing change or progression? Only if Mariano goes, but even then they would be barely credible. For Ant, meantime, the possibility exists that if PSOE gets a further stuffing, he might no longer be around in any event. I'm a failed politician, get me out of here.
The likelihood of this coalition ménage à trois stems not from any genuine belief among the three parties that it is what any of them wants but from Pedro's fear (or the fear of any successor to him) that he could well find himself forced into being a number two behind Pablo. Podemos have been talking up Iglesias as being the next president, and it most certainly would be president. None of this Anglicised prime minister lark. Pablo, a prime minister serving a Bourbon king? You have to be joking. President it would be.
There is a further reason to believe that there will be this three-in-a-bed liaison. The citizens. They won't accept any more arsing around. They won't want a December election to sort out the mess of 26-J. Something will have to give. And Super Mariano is what will have to give. He can't be like Arsène Wenger, arsing around forever and ever ... .
Sunday, May 22, 2016
What Teresa Does Next
Now we know why The Great Mariano will continue to be Spanish prime minister (president) for life. Apart from the fact that the other lots can't muster enough citizen interest to eject him from office once and for all, there is also the absence of a "natural successor". The illusionist premier informed the FT that there isn't one. Moreover, with his work only half done (his words), it is no bad thing, he opined, that there isn't a natural successor. On and on and on he will therefore go. Forever.
But if there is no natural successor, might there be an unnatural one? Who knows what mysterious sorts lurk within the unexplored reaches of PP-land, ready at any moment to unnaturally leash their force and succeed Mariano. There again, succession does not come at all naturally to the PP. They have little success in deciding upon succession. Just ask the local Balearic mob. With Matty Isern now an ex-politician, the number one spot on the election list was up for grabs. So many names, so many unacceptable to the various warring factions. Finally, it required High Command in Madrid to decide for them.
Teresa Palmer, who sounds as though she should be reporting to Dave and not Mazza but who isn't British or a member of the Conservative Party, is the new number one. The decision made and suddenly Balearic security was threatened. Teresa, it constantly needs explaining, was the national government's delegate to the islands, meaning that she was the one with the finger on the Balearic nuclear button. Elevated to top Congress candidate, and the Balearic Islands were suddenly defenceless. Not that anyone really noticed. As sweet and friendly Francina observed: "I don't know what she has done for the autonomous community." Now, though, she has a further chance to do nothing for said community (better known as the Balearics) by being a deputy in Congress.
With the PP in full-on candidate crisis mode, The Great Mariano materialised on the island with which he is so familiar that he once referred to it as the island of Palma (with or without de Mallorca). Had he descended in order to resolve the crisis? Not at all. He wasn't losing any sleep over it. For once, the citizens of the islands were in full agreement with their persecutor (a description according to Francina and her government, one should point out).
Meanwhile, Teresa, confident of securing a further nice little earner courtesy of the party, insisted that everyone was rowing in the same direction, without defining which direction this was or which type of boat they were rowing in. She knows where she is rowing, and it is off to Madrid, albeit she'll require more than a rowing boat to get there.
It was not only the PP who had been plunged into candidate list conflict. The Mésite sect was reacting with less than total satisfaction to the arrangements under the electoral pact of Units Podem Més, which should be renamed You-Nits Podemés. The Verger (Antoni, that is) was resurrected from his failure as the Mésite lead candidate in the December election and was immediately clashing, in true Mr. Yeatman fashion, with the Corporal Joneses of the Balearic Podemos Citizens' Army. "Unfair and disagreeable" were just two adjectives that the Verger chose to describe the third-on-the-list candidate carve-up of Podemés. He will be that third on the list, but will have to forego his Congress salary after two years and allow a Podemos sort to take over.
One could have foreseen the so-called pact of You-Nits Podemés ending in tears, but not quite as rapidly as it has. In addition to the Verger, the chief Mésite in Menorca, Nel Martí, branded Alberto Jarabo of Podemos a "liar". Units, one should explain, means united. Or not, as the case may be.
As if this wasn't bad enough, another lot appeared on the scene who threaten to undermine the Mésite claims on Balearic nationalism (or independence or whatever). These are Sobirania per les Illes (sovereignty for the islands), led by one of those glosador types, Mateu Matas aka Xuri. Splitting the vote? Francina and PSOE can only hope that they will.
But if there is no natural successor, might there be an unnatural one? Who knows what mysterious sorts lurk within the unexplored reaches of PP-land, ready at any moment to unnaturally leash their force and succeed Mariano. There again, succession does not come at all naturally to the PP. They have little success in deciding upon succession. Just ask the local Balearic mob. With Matty Isern now an ex-politician, the number one spot on the election list was up for grabs. So many names, so many unacceptable to the various warring factions. Finally, it required High Command in Madrid to decide for them.
Teresa Palmer, who sounds as though she should be reporting to Dave and not Mazza but who isn't British or a member of the Conservative Party, is the new number one. The decision made and suddenly Balearic security was threatened. Teresa, it constantly needs explaining, was the national government's delegate to the islands, meaning that she was the one with the finger on the Balearic nuclear button. Elevated to top Congress candidate, and the Balearic Islands were suddenly defenceless. Not that anyone really noticed. As sweet and friendly Francina observed: "I don't know what she has done for the autonomous community." Now, though, she has a further chance to do nothing for said community (better known as the Balearics) by being a deputy in Congress.
With the PP in full-on candidate crisis mode, The Great Mariano materialised on the island with which he is so familiar that he once referred to it as the island of Palma (with or without de Mallorca). Had he descended in order to resolve the crisis? Not at all. He wasn't losing any sleep over it. For once, the citizens of the islands were in full agreement with their persecutor (a description according to Francina and her government, one should point out).
Meanwhile, Teresa, confident of securing a further nice little earner courtesy of the party, insisted that everyone was rowing in the same direction, without defining which direction this was or which type of boat they were rowing in. She knows where she is rowing, and it is off to Madrid, albeit she'll require more than a rowing boat to get there.
It was not only the PP who had been plunged into candidate list conflict. The Mésite sect was reacting with less than total satisfaction to the arrangements under the electoral pact of Units Podem Més, which should be renamed You-Nits Podemés. The Verger (Antoni, that is) was resurrected from his failure as the Mésite lead candidate in the December election and was immediately clashing, in true Mr. Yeatman fashion, with the Corporal Joneses of the Balearic Podemos Citizens' Army. "Unfair and disagreeable" were just two adjectives that the Verger chose to describe the third-on-the-list candidate carve-up of Podemés. He will be that third on the list, but will have to forego his Congress salary after two years and allow a Podemos sort to take over.
One could have foreseen the so-called pact of You-Nits Podemés ending in tears, but not quite as rapidly as it has. In addition to the Verger, the chief Mésite in Menorca, Nel Martí, branded Alberto Jarabo of Podemos a "liar". Units, one should explain, means united. Or not, as the case may be.
As if this wasn't bad enough, another lot appeared on the scene who threaten to undermine the Mésite claims on Balearic nationalism (or independence or whatever). These are Sobirania per les Illes (sovereignty for the islands), led by one of those glosador types, Mateu Matas aka Xuri. Splitting the vote? Francina and PSOE can only hope that they will.
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Humiliation Delayed: Més takes third spot
It was David Abril, co-chief spokesperson of Més, who had spoken of an "humiliating" agreement. Podemos had been the target of his annoyance. The offer of an electoral pact for the general election was going to place a Més candidate fourth on the list of candidates for Congress. Under this, there was little or no chance that it would get its wish and be able to send one of its own to Madrid. Podemos would have had the top three places, grateful to the additional vote from Més supporters which would have guaranteed Podemos one more seat than it gained at the December election. Més thought the deal sucked.
A pact of the hard left had therefore appeared to be dead in the water. But something happened. Més will now have the third place (for the first two years of the legislature and then give way to Podemos). A combined vote with Podemos and the other signatories to this pact, the United Left, will be sufficient to guarantee this unless there is a collapse of the vote.
So what did happen to bring about the Units Podem Més pact? One suggestion is that Alberto Jarabo and Laura Camargo, the main voices of Podemos in the Balearics, had been attempting to persuade supporters to agree to the proposal for Més to have the third place. The implication is that those supporters were against the proposal. But how accurate is this suggestion? Jarabo, for instance, had said that without Podemos Més wouldn't have any presence in Congress, even if this were only indirectly as a partner in a pact. Nothing that was heard from Jarabo had hinted at acceding to Més demands.
More accurate were an approach by David Abril direct to Podemos high command and the intervention of Iñigo Errejón, the Podemos number two after Pablo Iglesias. Errejón is increasingly being cast as a sort of Mister Reasonable of Podemos but he is also one of the party's high chiefs for strategy. He would have known that without Més there would be no third place, as Podemos would not get sufficient votes for this third place: the votes of the United Left are inconsequential.
On top of this was the formal pact entered into at national level between Podemos and the United Left. A strengthened pact in the Balearics, meaning the addition of Més, would give that national arrangement further clout. So, the Podemos national command saw the virtual necessity of accommodating Més. And in bringing Més into the fold, Podemos is able to pile further pressure on PSOE's candidate for prime minister, Pedro Sánchez.
All the talk from Podemos and Més is about attacking Mariano Rajoy and the PP and about removing them from government. But which is the party really under attack? It isn't the PP. It's PSOE. The combined Units Podem Més should gain sufficient electoral support to relegate PSOE to one deputy in Congress, while it is most unlikely to get sufficient support to capture four deputies and so reduce the PP to two from the current three.
Apart from the potential consequences that this will have for the Balearic government and its lame duck president, Francina Armengol, there is the much bigger consequence for national government. Errejón, adopting his Mister Reasonable hat, has said that the problems Sánchez faced in arriving at an accord which could have seen him having received support for his investiture as prime minister were underestimated. By this, Errejón is saying that Sánchez was being stifled by elements within PSOE from having agreed to the "government of change" with Podemos.
On the one hand, therefore, Errejón is seeking to appeal to Sánchez by intimating that he understands his problems but also by implying that he (Sánchez) needs to be bolder: to abandon any agreement with Ciudadanos and climb aboard the left-wing government of change. He has reinforced this message by insisting that during the failed investiture attempt by Sánchez, Podemos would have been "loyal partners" for PSOE, had Sánchez been allowed to take the Podemos route.
On the other hand, though, Errejón and Podemos are piling the pressure on Sánchez, and the arrangement with Més is an example of this. It is an arrangement for strategic purposes pure and simple.
Més may have avoided an "humiliating" agreement but they are naïve if they believe they are anything more important than a convenience for Podemos. They will obtain a seat in the Congress on the back of what was a disappointing performance at the December election. And who's to say they and their partners will actually do better this time? Will the supporters of the three parties in this pact give it wholehearted support at the election? And might the PP find its fortunes reviving at the election? Possibly, but the loss of Mateo Isern and the consequent squabbling won't help the Balearic PP. And Errejón would have known that too.
A pact of the hard left had therefore appeared to be dead in the water. But something happened. Més will now have the third place (for the first two years of the legislature and then give way to Podemos). A combined vote with Podemos and the other signatories to this pact, the United Left, will be sufficient to guarantee this unless there is a collapse of the vote.
So what did happen to bring about the Units Podem Més pact? One suggestion is that Alberto Jarabo and Laura Camargo, the main voices of Podemos in the Balearics, had been attempting to persuade supporters to agree to the proposal for Més to have the third place. The implication is that those supporters were against the proposal. But how accurate is this suggestion? Jarabo, for instance, had said that without Podemos Més wouldn't have any presence in Congress, even if this were only indirectly as a partner in a pact. Nothing that was heard from Jarabo had hinted at acceding to Més demands.
More accurate were an approach by David Abril direct to Podemos high command and the intervention of Iñigo Errejón, the Podemos number two after Pablo Iglesias. Errejón is increasingly being cast as a sort of Mister Reasonable of Podemos but he is also one of the party's high chiefs for strategy. He would have known that without Més there would be no third place, as Podemos would not get sufficient votes for this third place: the votes of the United Left are inconsequential.
On top of this was the formal pact entered into at national level between Podemos and the United Left. A strengthened pact in the Balearics, meaning the addition of Més, would give that national arrangement further clout. So, the Podemos national command saw the virtual necessity of accommodating Més. And in bringing Més into the fold, Podemos is able to pile further pressure on PSOE's candidate for prime minister, Pedro Sánchez.
All the talk from Podemos and Més is about attacking Mariano Rajoy and the PP and about removing them from government. But which is the party really under attack? It isn't the PP. It's PSOE. The combined Units Podem Més should gain sufficient electoral support to relegate PSOE to one deputy in Congress, while it is most unlikely to get sufficient support to capture four deputies and so reduce the PP to two from the current three.
Apart from the potential consequences that this will have for the Balearic government and its lame duck president, Francina Armengol, there is the much bigger consequence for national government. Errejón, adopting his Mister Reasonable hat, has said that the problems Sánchez faced in arriving at an accord which could have seen him having received support for his investiture as prime minister were underestimated. By this, Errejón is saying that Sánchez was being stifled by elements within PSOE from having agreed to the "government of change" with Podemos.
On the one hand, therefore, Errejón is seeking to appeal to Sánchez by intimating that he understands his problems but also by implying that he (Sánchez) needs to be bolder: to abandon any agreement with Ciudadanos and climb aboard the left-wing government of change. He has reinforced this message by insisting that during the failed investiture attempt by Sánchez, Podemos would have been "loyal partners" for PSOE, had Sánchez been allowed to take the Podemos route.
On the other hand, though, Errejón and Podemos are piling the pressure on Sánchez, and the arrangement with Més is an example of this. It is an arrangement for strategic purposes pure and simple.
Més may have avoided an "humiliating" agreement but they are naïve if they believe they are anything more important than a convenience for Podemos. They will obtain a seat in the Congress on the back of what was a disappointing performance at the December election. And who's to say they and their partners will actually do better this time? Will the supporters of the three parties in this pact give it wholehearted support at the election? And might the PP find its fortunes reviving at the election? Possibly, but the loss of Mateo Isern and the consequent squabbling won't help the Balearic PP. And Errejón would have known that too.
Monday, May 16, 2016
Damned United: Podemos and the United Left
Alberto Garzón wasn't happy. There was a photo of him and a friend clasping bottles of beer. Whichever owner of the brand this was - it could not be determined from the photo - would also have been unhappy. Here was a perfect product placement opportunity. "Beer X. The choice of the hard left. When you've had a hard night's negotiating over the Marxist dialectic and its application to the Spanish proletariat, what better way to celebrate than with Beer X: a brew you can trust."
Alberto, if you have no idea, is the leader of the United Left, a euphemism for communist. His beer-drinking pal was Sr. Churches, Pablo of the Podemos parish. They are united in more than just leftness and beer. Together, united, they'll never be defeated. Not that they've won anything yet. But Unidos Podemos, We Can United, is marching on the Moncloa. The revolution is timed for 26 June.
Why Alberto was unhappy was hard to ascertain, other than the fact that the photo appeared in "El Mundo", the publishing arm of the Partido Popular (some might suggest but not myself), which has been going around making people redundant of late. In Alberto-land, such things will not happen when he and Pablo storm the Moncloa Palace. Newspapers will not happen either. Or not in their current form. Pablo has after all suggested that they should be under state control.
Not everyone in the United Left is happy. There is talk of "humiliation" in having joined forces with Podemos. As with all alliances created by the Podemistas, there is only one winner, and that is Podemos. Will it all end in tears? Quite probably. But for now, it affords Pablo an increased opportunity of usurping PSOE as number two in the land and so confronting the devil of the PP. Iglesias is a sort of Brian Clough of the political new age, informing his new charges at Leeds that they had only got to where they were by cheating. And by corruption: the PP, the Leeds United of Spain's political system. But it all went wrong for Cloughie very rapidly. Damned United. He'll hope that he has found his true Peter Taylor in Alberto and that together they do a political Forest.
Yet even this seems a remote possibility. Pablo admitted during the week that in order to govern he needs PSOE. There has to be an agreement with Sánchez. Just as there had to have been one over the weeks and months of negotiating after the December election. And did they ever get near to an agreement? Did they heck. What's more, Pedro alluded to the "extremist left" last week, that of Podemos and the United Left. There is no reason to believe that 26 June will, where PSOE and the further left are concerned, prove to be any less of a waste of time than the last election.
Pedro, meanwhile, was extolling the virtues of his buddy in the C's, Al Rivera. Ant and Dec may well survive the election, reunite and restate their vows of pact for government. Dec, said Ant last week, is a reconstructed right-winger "with whom there can be dialogue to arrive at positive agreements for Spain". Which is all very well, but it won't change the fact that Pablo (and now Alberto) won't go anywhere near a government with Dec in it. And he, Dec, might think it time to remove himself from the shadow of his taller partner and discover a new best friend: Mariano. Honestly, it just gets worse. United? None of them.
Alberto, if you have no idea, is the leader of the United Left, a euphemism for communist. His beer-drinking pal was Sr. Churches, Pablo of the Podemos parish. They are united in more than just leftness and beer. Together, united, they'll never be defeated. Not that they've won anything yet. But Unidos Podemos, We Can United, is marching on the Moncloa. The revolution is timed for 26 June.
Why Alberto was unhappy was hard to ascertain, other than the fact that the photo appeared in "El Mundo", the publishing arm of the Partido Popular (some might suggest but not myself), which has been going around making people redundant of late. In Alberto-land, such things will not happen when he and Pablo storm the Moncloa Palace. Newspapers will not happen either. Or not in their current form. Pablo has after all suggested that they should be under state control.
Not everyone in the United Left is happy. There is talk of "humiliation" in having joined forces with Podemos. As with all alliances created by the Podemistas, there is only one winner, and that is Podemos. Will it all end in tears? Quite probably. But for now, it affords Pablo an increased opportunity of usurping PSOE as number two in the land and so confronting the devil of the PP. Iglesias is a sort of Brian Clough of the political new age, informing his new charges at Leeds that they had only got to where they were by cheating. And by corruption: the PP, the Leeds United of Spain's political system. But it all went wrong for Cloughie very rapidly. Damned United. He'll hope that he has found his true Peter Taylor in Alberto and that together they do a political Forest.
Yet even this seems a remote possibility. Pablo admitted during the week that in order to govern he needs PSOE. There has to be an agreement with Sánchez. Just as there had to have been one over the weeks and months of negotiating after the December election. And did they ever get near to an agreement? Did they heck. What's more, Pedro alluded to the "extremist left" last week, that of Podemos and the United Left. There is no reason to believe that 26 June will, where PSOE and the further left are concerned, prove to be any less of a waste of time than the last election.
Pedro, meanwhile, was extolling the virtues of his buddy in the C's, Al Rivera. Ant and Dec may well survive the election, reunite and restate their vows of pact for government. Dec, said Ant last week, is a reconstructed right-winger "with whom there can be dialogue to arrive at positive agreements for Spain". Which is all very well, but it won't change the fact that Pablo (and now Alberto) won't go anywhere near a government with Dec in it. And he, Dec, might think it time to remove himself from the shadow of his taller partner and discover a new best friend: Mariano. Honestly, it just gets worse. United? None of them.
Sunday, December 27, 2015
The Forgotten Kingmaker
You could have written the script. Indeed, many had. The opinion polls had been right except in one respect. The citizens decided that the Citizens' Party, Ciudadanos, was less a panacea for political new-ageism than Podemos. The citizens had thus concluded that collectively they could, as in backing the Podemistic optimism of We Can, as opposed to the Ciudadanos' message of We Might Possibly Be Able To Were It Not For The Fact That We Give The Impression Of Being The PP In Disguise.
No sooner had the first results started coming in, and analysts were rushing to examine various permutations which should have been obvious before the citizens even stepped into the polling stations. The media love of seeking a kingmaker had conveniently ignored the fact that the Warwick of the Spanish war of the election roses was was not going to be the Prickly Rose of Pablo Iglesias and Podemos or the Trailing Rose of Albert Rivera and the C's but rather the Redleaf Rose of Pedro Sánchez and PSOE.
The boy Pedro was being advised left, right and centre by the left, by the right and by the centre. Which way should he go? Which way will he go? Whichever direction he takes, it would appear not to include Mariano Rajoy as a fellow traveller. Making it clear that Mazza would not receive investiture support, the interpretation was that Pedro wouldn't be touching the PP with a pact barge pole, while a different one might be that he would be prepared to, if Mariano is packed off to Galicia, never to darken governmental doors again.
Having seen Pedro assault Mazza with such verbal gusto during their head-to-head TV debate, it was now alarming to find them posing for the media with statesman-like expressions and a handshake. All's fair in love, war and election campaigning, but for Pedro to even give the possibility of taking the hand of the fair Mariano in a tryst of grand coalition some element of houseroom in the stately rooms of the Moncloa Palace appeared to be stretching political opportunism too far. But Pedro would have known, even before agreeing to an appointment with the damsel prime minister in distress, that shacking up with him would incur the interminable wrath of both the Prickly Rose and the Trailing Rose. "Casta," they would shout. The citizens' voices raised against the two-party dominance would have been ignored. The PP and PSOE would walk together hand-in-hand, thumbing noses at the new age of political pluralism.
Pedro thus finds himself between a rock and an even bigger rock, both of which are poised perilously and about to fall on him from a great height. At the back, or more likely at the front of his mind, he'll be thinking about the next election (and not a re-run of last Sunday). For PSOE, having taken a further electoral tumble, it is imperative to regain the lost ground since 2011. Go with the PP, and it risks citizen revulsion, even if it might be the most pragmatic way, and decimation in four years time. Go with Podemos, and it risks being ground into submission. He should ask sweet and friendly Francina what it's like to do business with Podemos. "Don't even go there," she should say, but publicly wouldn't, because as we know - as she and other PSOE-ists in the Balearics say so - the regional government is working well because of the new age of dialogue and consensus, supported by the agreements for governability.
Who'd be Pedro Sánchez?
No sooner had the first results started coming in, and analysts were rushing to examine various permutations which should have been obvious before the citizens even stepped into the polling stations. The media love of seeking a kingmaker had conveniently ignored the fact that the Warwick of the Spanish war of the election roses was was not going to be the Prickly Rose of Pablo Iglesias and Podemos or the Trailing Rose of Albert Rivera and the C's but rather the Redleaf Rose of Pedro Sánchez and PSOE.
The boy Pedro was being advised left, right and centre by the left, by the right and by the centre. Which way should he go? Which way will he go? Whichever direction he takes, it would appear not to include Mariano Rajoy as a fellow traveller. Making it clear that Mazza would not receive investiture support, the interpretation was that Pedro wouldn't be touching the PP with a pact barge pole, while a different one might be that he would be prepared to, if Mariano is packed off to Galicia, never to darken governmental doors again.
Having seen Pedro assault Mazza with such verbal gusto during their head-to-head TV debate, it was now alarming to find them posing for the media with statesman-like expressions and a handshake. All's fair in love, war and election campaigning, but for Pedro to even give the possibility of taking the hand of the fair Mariano in a tryst of grand coalition some element of houseroom in the stately rooms of the Moncloa Palace appeared to be stretching political opportunism too far. But Pedro would have known, even before agreeing to an appointment with the damsel prime minister in distress, that shacking up with him would incur the interminable wrath of both the Prickly Rose and the Trailing Rose. "Casta," they would shout. The citizens' voices raised against the two-party dominance would have been ignored. The PP and PSOE would walk together hand-in-hand, thumbing noses at the new age of political pluralism.
Pedro thus finds himself between a rock and an even bigger rock, both of which are poised perilously and about to fall on him from a great height. At the back, or more likely at the front of his mind, he'll be thinking about the next election (and not a re-run of last Sunday). For PSOE, having taken a further electoral tumble, it is imperative to regain the lost ground since 2011. Go with the PP, and it risks citizen revulsion, even if it might be the most pragmatic way, and decimation in four years time. Go with Podemos, and it risks being ground into submission. He should ask sweet and friendly Francina what it's like to do business with Podemos. "Don't even go there," she should say, but publicly wouldn't, because as we know - as she and other PSOE-ists in the Balearics say so - the regional government is working well because of the new age of dialogue and consensus, supported by the agreements for governability.
Who'd be Pedro Sánchez?
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
The Illusion Of Participation
It's hard to know if the past few days have been good or not so good for the citizens and their participation. What used to just be referred to as "turnout" must now be styled in this way. Taking part is so much more active than turning out. And, as is so often said, it's not the winning that matters but the taking part. Ask the town hall in Palma.
The citizens, those strewn across the whole of Spain, roused themselves sufficiently to put some five per cent on the election participation percentage. Was this a reflection of the new participative age? No, but it may well have reflected the fact that there were some other lots to vote for and that the citizens were being given the opportunity to vote no to the old lots. New parties should be formed for all elections might be the message.
There was, though, an altogether more important exercise in participation. The citizens of Palma were deciding the fate of the terraces on the Born. For seven long days the voting lasted, following several long weeks of arguments given ample coverage in the media. And what happened? Under five per cent of the citizens cared enough to vote. Was this a triumph for direct democratic involvement?
Alfonso Robledo, the chap who's head of Mallorca's restaurants' association, was probably wetting himself laughing at the same time as he was congratulating the town hall for having organised the citizens' consultation. Around 3.2% of the citizenry was in favour of Born terraces, but this 3.2% was about four-fifths of those who had been bothered to take a second (less than that probably) to register their online preference in the terraces' favour. The Born was not to be Born free of terraces. All hail citizen democracy!
Alfonso intimated that the turnout, sorry participation, had been high, when of course he knew full well that it hadn't been anything of the sort. He was saying this, one fancies, to rub salt into town hall wounds, while at the same time careful to lavish it with praise. It had been, he suggested, difficult to get the man in the street to vote on a specific issue like the terraces. In other words, what he really meant was that the participation had been minimal - which it was - and that there was no surprise that it had been. Man in the street, man on the Clapham omnibus, man on the Palma bus lines that permit dogs (here has to be another subject for citizen democratic voting): they were all wondering why they were being asked the question. Was it not within the wit of elected politicians and business representatives to sort this out themselves? Sensibly, maturely, pragmatically.
If, as I have suggested previously, the terrace issue was all a ruse for the town hall to engage in a pilot scheme for online citizen decision-making, then it certainly didn't choose wisely. There again, perhaps it was aware that the citizens would let it off the hook. Having dug a frankly ludicrously large pit over a comparatively inconsequential issue, it didn't want to be buried by having to decide for itself, when all sense and public sentiment appeared to be weighed against it.
Maybe it had in fact been a different ruse. Act tough and display preservationist credentials, and then get the citizens to show they aren't nearly as fussed. Don't blame us, the citizens have spoken, all under five per cent of them. Nevertheless, noting the looks of three town hall sorts hauled before the media to announce the "landslide victory" in favour of the terraces, the town hall was far from pleased. Glum, glummer, glummest.
Instinctively drawn to such public involvement as I am, it has to be conceded (and frankly should be by politicians) that the vast majority is not. Perhaps it needs time and education to convert the masses to involving themselves. Or perhaps it requires genuinely significant questions to be posed. Cut taxes by 10%. Yes or no? (And make the outcome legally binding.) The polling website would go into meltdown.
Even for the arch advocates of citizen participation - our good friends in Podemos - there is a gap between philosophy and reality, or so I understand. Its consultations and its citizens' councils amount to comparatively little, so much so that in the heady and insane days of my student politics, the participants wouldn't have constituted a quorum.
Participation requires, to use an overused word, stakeholders. The world of business struggled with worker indifference towards participation until it started to hand out shares and created profit-sharing schemes. Workers had said you're the managers, your job's to manage; we're workers, our job's to go on strike. But the closeness of a business cannot, despite the rhetoric, be replicated in the vastness of the political machinery. You're the politicians, you sort it out.
The citizens, those strewn across the whole of Spain, roused themselves sufficiently to put some five per cent on the election participation percentage. Was this a reflection of the new participative age? No, but it may well have reflected the fact that there were some other lots to vote for and that the citizens were being given the opportunity to vote no to the old lots. New parties should be formed for all elections might be the message.
There was, though, an altogether more important exercise in participation. The citizens of Palma were deciding the fate of the terraces on the Born. For seven long days the voting lasted, following several long weeks of arguments given ample coverage in the media. And what happened? Under five per cent of the citizens cared enough to vote. Was this a triumph for direct democratic involvement?
Alfonso Robledo, the chap who's head of Mallorca's restaurants' association, was probably wetting himself laughing at the same time as he was congratulating the town hall for having organised the citizens' consultation. Around 3.2% of the citizenry was in favour of Born terraces, but this 3.2% was about four-fifths of those who had been bothered to take a second (less than that probably) to register their online preference in the terraces' favour. The Born was not to be Born free of terraces. All hail citizen democracy!
Alfonso intimated that the turnout, sorry participation, had been high, when of course he knew full well that it hadn't been anything of the sort. He was saying this, one fancies, to rub salt into town hall wounds, while at the same time careful to lavish it with praise. It had been, he suggested, difficult to get the man in the street to vote on a specific issue like the terraces. In other words, what he really meant was that the participation had been minimal - which it was - and that there was no surprise that it had been. Man in the street, man on the Clapham omnibus, man on the Palma bus lines that permit dogs (here has to be another subject for citizen democratic voting): they were all wondering why they were being asked the question. Was it not within the wit of elected politicians and business representatives to sort this out themselves? Sensibly, maturely, pragmatically.
If, as I have suggested previously, the terrace issue was all a ruse for the town hall to engage in a pilot scheme for online citizen decision-making, then it certainly didn't choose wisely. There again, perhaps it was aware that the citizens would let it off the hook. Having dug a frankly ludicrously large pit over a comparatively inconsequential issue, it didn't want to be buried by having to decide for itself, when all sense and public sentiment appeared to be weighed against it.
Maybe it had in fact been a different ruse. Act tough and display preservationist credentials, and then get the citizens to show they aren't nearly as fussed. Don't blame us, the citizens have spoken, all under five per cent of them. Nevertheless, noting the looks of three town hall sorts hauled before the media to announce the "landslide victory" in favour of the terraces, the town hall was far from pleased. Glum, glummer, glummest.
Instinctively drawn to such public involvement as I am, it has to be conceded (and frankly should be by politicians) that the vast majority is not. Perhaps it needs time and education to convert the masses to involving themselves. Or perhaps it requires genuinely significant questions to be posed. Cut taxes by 10%. Yes or no? (And make the outcome legally binding.) The polling website would go into meltdown.
Even for the arch advocates of citizen participation - our good friends in Podemos - there is a gap between philosophy and reality, or so I understand. Its consultations and its citizens' councils amount to comparatively little, so much so that in the heady and insane days of my student politics, the participants wouldn't have constituted a quorum.
Participation requires, to use an overused word, stakeholders. The world of business struggled with worker indifference towards participation until it started to hand out shares and created profit-sharing schemes. Workers had said you're the managers, your job's to manage; we're workers, our job's to go on strike. But the closeness of a business cannot, despite the rhetoric, be replicated in the vastness of the political machinery. You're the politicians, you sort it out.
Thursday, December 17, 2015
The Four-Way Fight: PSOE
Life in the land of PSOE can move at a slow pace. Perhaps this suits a party that is the second oldest socialist workers party in Europe, one that was founded in 1879 by Pablo Iglesias. Now there's a coincidence.
PSOE was originally a product of Marxism. Early on in its existence it avowed policies of anti-clericalism (against the church, therefore), coming into alliances with Republicans and even with a dictator. Though PSOE was to be proscribed by Franco, it was useful to Primo de Rivera, a collaboration earning it the wrath of a more militant left-wing.
By the time of the Second Republic of 1931 to 1936, PSOE had become the largest political party in Spain, but the upheavals of that period were followed by its banning. It didn't totally cease to be, as it existed in exile and later in a clandestine fashion inside Spain. Then, in 1977, it was invited, under its leader Felipe González, voted in at a meeting in France in 1974, to take part in the first post-Franco democratic election. Five years later González won. PSOE would govern for fourteen years, a period of enormous social change, which was to end through a combination of economic crisis, strikes and allegations of corruption.
In the democratic era, defined as having started in 1977, PSOE has ruled for 21 of the 38 years. It might be said, therefore, to be the natural party of government in Spain, though such a conclusion doesn't take into account the fact that the Partido Popular (in government for a total of twelve years) has only truly existed since 1989: PSOE can claim only two more years of government than the PP since then.
These two parties have dominated the scene for the past generation, but both now are exposed to the demands for a new politics made by their Ciudadanos and Podemos challengers. For PSOE, these challenges have been as great if not greater than for the PP. This creation of the nineteenth century, stripped of its one-time and ancient quasi-revolutionary roots and of the enormous vitality that González once injected into the party and into Spain, lumbered through the years of Zapatero. Yes, it effected some decent social legislation but it never dared to take its old anti-clericalism to the conclusions some might have wanted, while economically it was living off the complacency of a boom with all too shaky foundations.
When the world first started to learn the terms subprime and toxic debt, Zapatero's reaction was to say there was no crisis in Spain. He failed to consider the structural weakness, ineptitude and corruption of parts of the Spanish financial system as well as inherent lack of competitiveness in the economy and chose a policy of spend. Too late, too slow, he tried to go into reverse. He didn't stand for re-election.
His successor, Alfredo Rubalcaba, presided over PSOE's humiliation in 2011. It lost 59 seats in Congress, having held 169. Despite this, Rubalcaba stayed on. A man of some honour, he was nevertheless exposed as symptomatic of the PSOE malaise. It was old, it had lost its way, it had little or nothing to offer. At last year's European elections, there was further humiliation. Finally, Rubalcaba stood aside.
Enter, therefore, Pedro Sánchez, a 42-year-old with comparatively little experience. With some acquired at the town hall in Madrid and with two years as a Congress deputy, it was to be a book that he had written on Spain's new economic diplomacy that was to launch him as a potential replacement for Rubalcaba. In July last year he became the party's secretary-general.
His comparative youth was in contrast to Rubalcaba, It was in contrast to Mariano Rajoy as well, but by the time Sánchez was elected, there were more youthful kids on the block and both were taking pops in equal measure against the PP and PSOE. Sánchez was leader of one of the "casta", a party every bit as mired in a history of sleaze as the PP.
While the electorate more readily associates corruption with the PP and so considers this a reason to give it a kicking on Sunday, it associates PSOE with crisis. Confronted as well by the arrival of Podemos and the C's, this economic legacy has dragged PSOE down further. It may end up losing thirty or more seats in Congress to add to the 59 in 2011.
Afforded the right as the leader of the (at present) main opposition, Sánchez went head to head with Rajoy on Monday night. The prime minister had cut everything but corruption and was not a decent man. The general view was that Sánchez lost the debate. On Sunday there is a great deal more to lose. Sánchez has failed to galvanise PSOE as many would have hoped. Slow, too slow. It needs a Pablo Iglesias.
PSOE was originally a product of Marxism. Early on in its existence it avowed policies of anti-clericalism (against the church, therefore), coming into alliances with Republicans and even with a dictator. Though PSOE was to be proscribed by Franco, it was useful to Primo de Rivera, a collaboration earning it the wrath of a more militant left-wing.
By the time of the Second Republic of 1931 to 1936, PSOE had become the largest political party in Spain, but the upheavals of that period were followed by its banning. It didn't totally cease to be, as it existed in exile and later in a clandestine fashion inside Spain. Then, in 1977, it was invited, under its leader Felipe González, voted in at a meeting in France in 1974, to take part in the first post-Franco democratic election. Five years later González won. PSOE would govern for fourteen years, a period of enormous social change, which was to end through a combination of economic crisis, strikes and allegations of corruption.
In the democratic era, defined as having started in 1977, PSOE has ruled for 21 of the 38 years. It might be said, therefore, to be the natural party of government in Spain, though such a conclusion doesn't take into account the fact that the Partido Popular (in government for a total of twelve years) has only truly existed since 1989: PSOE can claim only two more years of government than the PP since then.
These two parties have dominated the scene for the past generation, but both now are exposed to the demands for a new politics made by their Ciudadanos and Podemos challengers. For PSOE, these challenges have been as great if not greater than for the PP. This creation of the nineteenth century, stripped of its one-time and ancient quasi-revolutionary roots and of the enormous vitality that González once injected into the party and into Spain, lumbered through the years of Zapatero. Yes, it effected some decent social legislation but it never dared to take its old anti-clericalism to the conclusions some might have wanted, while economically it was living off the complacency of a boom with all too shaky foundations.
When the world first started to learn the terms subprime and toxic debt, Zapatero's reaction was to say there was no crisis in Spain. He failed to consider the structural weakness, ineptitude and corruption of parts of the Spanish financial system as well as inherent lack of competitiveness in the economy and chose a policy of spend. Too late, too slow, he tried to go into reverse. He didn't stand for re-election.
His successor, Alfredo Rubalcaba, presided over PSOE's humiliation in 2011. It lost 59 seats in Congress, having held 169. Despite this, Rubalcaba stayed on. A man of some honour, he was nevertheless exposed as symptomatic of the PSOE malaise. It was old, it had lost its way, it had little or nothing to offer. At last year's European elections, there was further humiliation. Finally, Rubalcaba stood aside.
Enter, therefore, Pedro Sánchez, a 42-year-old with comparatively little experience. With some acquired at the town hall in Madrid and with two years as a Congress deputy, it was to be a book that he had written on Spain's new economic diplomacy that was to launch him as a potential replacement for Rubalcaba. In July last year he became the party's secretary-general.
His comparative youth was in contrast to Rubalcaba, It was in contrast to Mariano Rajoy as well, but by the time Sánchez was elected, there were more youthful kids on the block and both were taking pops in equal measure against the PP and PSOE. Sánchez was leader of one of the "casta", a party every bit as mired in a history of sleaze as the PP.
While the electorate more readily associates corruption with the PP and so considers this a reason to give it a kicking on Sunday, it associates PSOE with crisis. Confronted as well by the arrival of Podemos and the C's, this economic legacy has dragged PSOE down further. It may end up losing thirty or more seats in Congress to add to the 59 in 2011.
Afforded the right as the leader of the (at present) main opposition, Sánchez went head to head with Rajoy on Monday night. The prime minister had cut everything but corruption and was not a decent man. The general view was that Sánchez lost the debate. On Sunday there is a great deal more to lose. Sánchez has failed to galvanise PSOE as many would have hoped. Slow, too slow. It needs a Pablo Iglesias.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
The Four-Way Fight: Podemos
If you look closely at Pablo Iglesias and were the facial hair to be removed, you will appreciate just how youthful he appears. He may have reached the grand age of 37 but he gives the impression of an older adolescent, earnestly clutching a set of 1970s Krautrock albums and preparing to enter college to study graphic design. But these looks are deceiving. Firstly, he isn't as earnestly without humour as a right-on project of the left suggests that he should be and secondly, his non-political career has found him rise to the rank of interim professor in political science.
There is, though, a sense of the student rebellion (circa the 1960s and 1970s) about him. A member of the Spanish Communist youth wing at the age of fourteen, Iglesias is an idealist for whom any revolutionary tendencies have been modified in the pursuit of more pragmatic political evolution and social change. And it has found expression in Podemos - We Can.
It is worth being reminded that two years ago Podemos didn't exist. It was in early 2014 that the social movement bearing the name was first presented, with Iglesias a co-founder. From nothing then and via stunning gains at the European elections last year and Spain's regional elections in the spring of this year, there is now the prospect - according to the polls - of Podemos securing up to sixty seats out of the 350 in Congress. If Ciudadanos, as noted yesterday, was the first example of a social movement achieving parliamentary representation (in Catalonia), the Podemos example has been vastly more dramatic: the C's, in their original form, are almost nine years older than Podemos.
But Podemos had to have come from somewhere, and in the case of Iglesias this was television as well as academia. A reason he is now such an adept performer with the media is that he has experience of the camera and of production. He began to make a name for himself as a political analyst and presenter and shortly before the announcement was made of the launch of the Podemos social movement, he received an award from the Carlos III university in Madrid for his journalism.
As for Podemos itself, it was a project that was, in a sense, the consequence of the collision of different social movements, a notable one being that of Ada Colau, now the mayor of Barcelona, who had been campaigning against evictions since 2009. The "indignados" movement, otherwise known as 15-M (to mark the date 15 May, 2011 when protest burst out in Madrid and then elsewhere), was another major factor. Unemployment, corruption, austerity: these were all to add weight to what had been a gathering momentum towards a coherent political force. Aided by a co-founder with media skills, Podemos arrived on the scene, kicking and screaming and threatening to tear down the very structure of Spain's political institutions, the Partido Popular and PSOE - the despised "casta" - in particular.
The original Podemos "manifesto" (from January 2014) was entitled "converting the indignation into political change". There was more than just a touch of the left-wing about it, but to the beliefs of the anti-capitalist left and Trotskyists (among others) have since been added those which aren't quite so strident. There are red lines for Podemos, such as on debt restructuring, but the vastness of the election programme - 394 separate manifesto items - allied to the essential participatory nature of its existence and, possibly, a requirement to form a pact following the election, might well lead to a watering-down.
One says might, but although Podemos have taken on some of the trappings of the establishment by bringing into their midst a Balearic High Court judge and a former chief of defence staff, there is little sign of there being a willingness to "sell out". Podemos support for government, as evidenced in the Balearics, is on Podemos terms, not on others. But for Iglesias and Podemos to be truly pragmatic - in the sense of a political force - they may find that there have to be some trade-offs. The greatest risk for them is that, if they don't find their way into government via a pact with strings, they may fade away.
This said, there were plenty of observers who thought they would have already faded. True, the level of support may have peaked, but it is the very nature of this support which has allowed Podemos to reach and retain a position of electoral strength. This support is eclectic and it can draw on voters who might not consider themselves left-wing but are wanting a reason to get even with the PP in particular because of corruption and/or, for the middle classes, the vicissitudes of austerity. And for others, there is the very fact that Iglesias doesn't look like your everyday politician. Herein lies much of the appeal: different, very different.
There is, though, a sense of the student rebellion (circa the 1960s and 1970s) about him. A member of the Spanish Communist youth wing at the age of fourteen, Iglesias is an idealist for whom any revolutionary tendencies have been modified in the pursuit of more pragmatic political evolution and social change. And it has found expression in Podemos - We Can.
It is worth being reminded that two years ago Podemos didn't exist. It was in early 2014 that the social movement bearing the name was first presented, with Iglesias a co-founder. From nothing then and via stunning gains at the European elections last year and Spain's regional elections in the spring of this year, there is now the prospect - according to the polls - of Podemos securing up to sixty seats out of the 350 in Congress. If Ciudadanos, as noted yesterday, was the first example of a social movement achieving parliamentary representation (in Catalonia), the Podemos example has been vastly more dramatic: the C's, in their original form, are almost nine years older than Podemos.
But Podemos had to have come from somewhere, and in the case of Iglesias this was television as well as academia. A reason he is now such an adept performer with the media is that he has experience of the camera and of production. He began to make a name for himself as a political analyst and presenter and shortly before the announcement was made of the launch of the Podemos social movement, he received an award from the Carlos III university in Madrid for his journalism.
As for Podemos itself, it was a project that was, in a sense, the consequence of the collision of different social movements, a notable one being that of Ada Colau, now the mayor of Barcelona, who had been campaigning against evictions since 2009. The "indignados" movement, otherwise known as 15-M (to mark the date 15 May, 2011 when protest burst out in Madrid and then elsewhere), was another major factor. Unemployment, corruption, austerity: these were all to add weight to what had been a gathering momentum towards a coherent political force. Aided by a co-founder with media skills, Podemos arrived on the scene, kicking and screaming and threatening to tear down the very structure of Spain's political institutions, the Partido Popular and PSOE - the despised "casta" - in particular.
The original Podemos "manifesto" (from January 2014) was entitled "converting the indignation into political change". There was more than just a touch of the left-wing about it, but to the beliefs of the anti-capitalist left and Trotskyists (among others) have since been added those which aren't quite so strident. There are red lines for Podemos, such as on debt restructuring, but the vastness of the election programme - 394 separate manifesto items - allied to the essential participatory nature of its existence and, possibly, a requirement to form a pact following the election, might well lead to a watering-down.
One says might, but although Podemos have taken on some of the trappings of the establishment by bringing into their midst a Balearic High Court judge and a former chief of defence staff, there is little sign of there being a willingness to "sell out". Podemos support for government, as evidenced in the Balearics, is on Podemos terms, not on others. But for Iglesias and Podemos to be truly pragmatic - in the sense of a political force - they may find that there have to be some trade-offs. The greatest risk for them is that, if they don't find their way into government via a pact with strings, they may fade away.
This said, there were plenty of observers who thought they would have already faded. True, the level of support may have peaked, but it is the very nature of this support which has allowed Podemos to reach and retain a position of electoral strength. This support is eclectic and it can draw on voters who might not consider themselves left-wing but are wanting a reason to get even with the PP in particular because of corruption and/or, for the middle classes, the vicissitudes of austerity. And for others, there is the very fact that Iglesias doesn't look like your everyday politician. Herein lies much of the appeal: different, very different.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
The Four-Way Fight: Ciudadanos
In 2011, over the four days prior to the day of reflection (when campaigning and party political comment and opinion are supposed to cease), there wouldn't have been a case to have filled those four days with profiles of political parties. There were (and are) all sorts of parties knocking around, some of them regional, some of them more broadly based, but in 2011 there were only two which mattered - the Partido Popular and PSOE. The intervening four years have changed this. The number of parties which matter has doubled. The fight is not an even four-way fight - not where the estimations of seats in Congress are concerned - but it is a fight nevertheless, and it is one that is destined to change Spain's political scene, not just because two new parties could feature in the next government but also because these two parties represent a different type of politics. They are Ciudadanos (C's) and Podemos.
The first thing to say about the C's is that they aren't so new. As with other aspects of their existence, such as what they actually stand for, branding them as new is too easy. Initially moulded in 2005, they came from a movement called Ciudadanos de Catalunya - citizens of Catalonia - formed through disenchantment with established politics in that region. Within a year this platform had become a political party, adopting the name Ciudadanos-Partido de la Ciudadanía (C's for short). The party's first participation in an election was for the Catalonia regional election in November 2006. By then, its first president, who hadn't been one of the founders of the platform, was a 26-year-old Catalonian swimming champion and student of law who had briefly had a dalliance with the PP's Nuevas Generaciones. His name? Albert Rivera.
That first election was to prove to be the making of the C's and of Rivera. Never before had a social movement or platform been able to convert itself into a political party and actually gain representation. It might not have seemed so at the time, but from the modest but nonetheless surprising gaining of three seats in the Catalonian parliament, Spain's new political age was being born.
The important point to be made about the C's is that they weren't in 2006 and nor are they now a radical party. Often lumped together with Podemos, they are done so through a misunderstanding that stems from apparent newness. Where similarity exists with Podemos is on issues such as inclusiveness (a more participative approach to the political process) and being adamant in a rejection of corruption and of the political status quo of the hitherto two-party system of the PP and PSOE.
Unlike Podemos, which was to grow out of an altogether wider and more vocal social movement and secure sudden and stunning electoral success, the progress of the C's has been more like a business which, once strong in its home market (Catalonia), expands into newer markets. The great achievement has been in not stumbling in a desire to grow.
Though they might not like to admit it, the C's have been aided by Podemos and by the intense focus placed on a new political age that Podemos have done so much to create. They have caught a wave, but it has to be acknowledged that, in their less vocal way, they (and the now forgotten Partido X) did the groundwork for Podemos to emerge so spectacularly.
As they aren't a radical party, where does the appeal lie? Partly, and this cannot be ignored, they have some attractive and youthful figureheads in the likes of Rivera and the now leader of the opposition in the Catalonian parliament, Inés Arrimadas. But good looks only get a party so far. The appeal comes from the assault on the corrupt two-party system and from policies of greater social justice and equality and probably also comes from the fact that, of the two parties taking on the PP-PSOE cosiness, they aren't as scary as Podemos.
Such an analysis reveals why the C's are described as both left and right-wing. Observers who draw these conclusions are again misunderstanding the party. It is a hybrid which can, on the one hand, hold firm views against Catalonian independence (a stance associated mainly with the right and one for which Rivera once received death threats) but which, on the other, can promote progressive taxation in a manner akin to the left.
For those who seek to condemn them as being almost a PP in disguise, there is evidence from a strong pro-business bias as well as a commitment to language teaching that has distinct echoes of the PP's trilingual teaching system in the Balearics.
A clearer assessment of the C's might be, however, that they are wholly of a modern age, minus any baggage, with a mostly intelligent programme. Success on Sunday should come as no surprise.
The first thing to say about the C's is that they aren't so new. As with other aspects of their existence, such as what they actually stand for, branding them as new is too easy. Initially moulded in 2005, they came from a movement called Ciudadanos de Catalunya - citizens of Catalonia - formed through disenchantment with established politics in that region. Within a year this platform had become a political party, adopting the name Ciudadanos-Partido de la Ciudadanía (C's for short). The party's first participation in an election was for the Catalonia regional election in November 2006. By then, its first president, who hadn't been one of the founders of the platform, was a 26-year-old Catalonian swimming champion and student of law who had briefly had a dalliance with the PP's Nuevas Generaciones. His name? Albert Rivera.
That first election was to prove to be the making of the C's and of Rivera. Never before had a social movement or platform been able to convert itself into a political party and actually gain representation. It might not have seemed so at the time, but from the modest but nonetheless surprising gaining of three seats in the Catalonian parliament, Spain's new political age was being born.
The important point to be made about the C's is that they weren't in 2006 and nor are they now a radical party. Often lumped together with Podemos, they are done so through a misunderstanding that stems from apparent newness. Where similarity exists with Podemos is on issues such as inclusiveness (a more participative approach to the political process) and being adamant in a rejection of corruption and of the political status quo of the hitherto two-party system of the PP and PSOE.
Unlike Podemos, which was to grow out of an altogether wider and more vocal social movement and secure sudden and stunning electoral success, the progress of the C's has been more like a business which, once strong in its home market (Catalonia), expands into newer markets. The great achievement has been in not stumbling in a desire to grow.
Though they might not like to admit it, the C's have been aided by Podemos and by the intense focus placed on a new political age that Podemos have done so much to create. They have caught a wave, but it has to be acknowledged that, in their less vocal way, they (and the now forgotten Partido X) did the groundwork for Podemos to emerge so spectacularly.
As they aren't a radical party, where does the appeal lie? Partly, and this cannot be ignored, they have some attractive and youthful figureheads in the likes of Rivera and the now leader of the opposition in the Catalonian parliament, Inés Arrimadas. But good looks only get a party so far. The appeal comes from the assault on the corrupt two-party system and from policies of greater social justice and equality and probably also comes from the fact that, of the two parties taking on the PP-PSOE cosiness, they aren't as scary as Podemos.
Such an analysis reveals why the C's are described as both left and right-wing. Observers who draw these conclusions are again misunderstanding the party. It is a hybrid which can, on the one hand, hold firm views against Catalonian independence (a stance associated mainly with the right and one for which Rivera once received death threats) but which, on the other, can promote progressive taxation in a manner akin to the left.
For those who seek to condemn them as being almost a PP in disguise, there is evidence from a strong pro-business bias as well as a commitment to language teaching that has distinct echoes of the PP's trilingual teaching system in the Balearics.
A clearer assessment of the C's might be, however, that they are wholly of a modern age, minus any baggage, with a mostly intelligent programme. Success on Sunday should come as no surprise.
Monday, December 14, 2015
There's A Starman Waiting In The Sky
It isn't known if Pablo Iglesias's mother was conceived immaculately, but on the immaculate day (last Tuesday) the Second Coming was heralded in the manger of the Palma Arena. There were no swaddling clothes for Pablo; rather the typical, non-descript colour shirt which seems to be the only one he possesses. Into the arena trooped the five thousand. And lo, for it was good and he didst come among them. The uncorrupt (through birth) of the Son of the All Righteous dispensed fish and loaves bearing no stain. The apostles applauded, and so did the five thousand. The Bishop of Mallorca was in hiding and not just because a naughty vicar-type story was leaking out. The walls of the Moncloa Jericho will come tumbling down.
One felt almost sorry for the Balearic Podemista apostles - Dave Spart, The Boot Girl, Xe-Lo and Here Come Da Judge. In this consensual, participatory and egalitarian new age of the citizens, there are citizens who are first among equals and none more so than Paul Churches, the higher authority condemning a malevolent collective Citizen Cain to the fires of the hell of the corrupt. Cain, so they say, was of Satanic origin. He most certainly was not from immaculate roots.
The apostolic citizens in the ranks of the Podemista political caste could only look on with the shared ecstasies of the five thousand. There may, in theory, be no "I" in We Can, but minus Pablo it is questionable if we (or they) would be able or would indeed have been enabled. Podemos is spelt with a big "P", and it stands for Pablo.
The previous day was when Pablo met Albert met Pedro but didn't meet Mariano, who was either washing his hair or had managed to get a note from his mum (no immaculate connotations are known of her either). Instead, they sent the Dancing Queen, Soraya Sáenz de Santamaria Etc., fresh from her recent gyrations to "Uptown Funk You Up" on "El Hormiguero" (the anthill), but which had been eclipsed by the guitar-playing, singing Pablo. It might not have been Paul Weller (unlikely that it would have been given the hair), but here nevertheless was the Modfather of the Political New Wave. Stardust was spread both through the TV debate and in the Palma Arena, and what is more, Ziggy plays guitar.
One felt almost sorry for the Balearic Podemista apostles - Dave Spart, The Boot Girl, Xe-Lo and Here Come Da Judge. In this consensual, participatory and egalitarian new age of the citizens, there are citizens who are first among equals and none more so than Paul Churches, the higher authority condemning a malevolent collective Citizen Cain to the fires of the hell of the corrupt. Cain, so they say, was of Satanic origin. He most certainly was not from immaculate roots.
The apostolic citizens in the ranks of the Podemista political caste could only look on with the shared ecstasies of the five thousand. There may, in theory, be no "I" in We Can, but minus Pablo it is questionable if we (or they) would be able or would indeed have been enabled. Podemos is spelt with a big "P", and it stands for Pablo.
The previous day was when Pablo met Albert met Pedro but didn't meet Mariano, who was either washing his hair or had managed to get a note from his mum (no immaculate connotations are known of her either). Instead, they sent the Dancing Queen, Soraya Sáenz de Santamaria Etc., fresh from her recent gyrations to "Uptown Funk You Up" on "El Hormiguero" (the anthill), but which had been eclipsed by the guitar-playing, singing Pablo. It might not have been Paul Weller (unlikely that it would have been given the hair), but here nevertheless was the Modfather of the Political New Wave. Stardust was spread both through the TV debate and in the Palma Arena, and what is more, Ziggy plays guitar.
Friday, December 11, 2015
The Chaos Of Colour: Spain's election
In just over a week's time Spain will hold a general election unlike any other in its comparatively short democratic history. If there are those who still cling to the belief that Ciudadanos and Podemos are impostors, these are beliefs of denial: two-party politics in Spain is dead, long live quadripartite politics.
Life will be breathed into this four-party system for at least as long as the life of the next legislature (until the end of 2019). Whether it survives beyond this will depend upon what happens between now and then. The deniers may, in the long term, prove to be right. If they are for the PP and PSOE, they will hope that they are.
Unless the opinion polls are wildly wrong, a prediction can be made before the electorate heads to the booths on Sunday week. Spain's political scene will be altered. It will also be highly uncertain. The country's general elections would normally expect to demand the footnotes of mainly indifference outside the nation's borders, but not this one. It will be watched like a hawk, with the eyes of Brussels, among others, firmly trained on it.
Judging by the comparative turnouts in Palma this week, the Podemos bubble appears anything but burst. Pablo Iglesias fed the five thousand at Palma Arena, while a surreal gathering - a tenth this size - wrapped themselves up against a keen breeze on the Parc de la Mar and listened to Rajoy. The prime minister observed that this was a working day and a gathering during the day. He must surely have made this remark because of events some hours previously. Iglesias had chosen a holiday and the evening: the resulting difference was political PR heaven for Podemos.
Not that these two rallies hold a key to Sunday week. Podemos has not become the mighty force it once looked as if it might; according to the polls, at any rate. The rise of Ciudadanos may explain this. Or perhaps there was always going to be a plateau that Iglesias would not be able to surmount. But in a different sense they did hold a key. Iglesias, populism aside, can be mightily impressive. He is also different.
The four-party televised debate earlier in the week had been a curious prelude to the two Palma rallies; curious because of the absence of Rajoy. This had been known a couple of weeks in advance, the official reason being the number of requests from media outlets and schedule. It was difficult to avoid believing there were other reasons.
One survey of the performances of Iglesias, Sánchez (PSOE), Rivera (Ciudadanos) and Soraya Sáenz de Santamaría, Rajoy's substitute, made Iglesias the winner. Had Rajoy appeared, he might have been a greater winner. The debate itself, minus Rajoy, was a winner. There was freshness in the relative youth of the participants and the presence of a woman. There were degrees of charisma as well.
An argument for Rajoy taking part was that his seniority would afford him gravitas in the eyes of the viewer when set next to the younger upstarts - Iglesias, Rivera and Sánchez - but in recalling the debate he had with Alfredo Rubalcaba prior to the 2011 election, any such gravitas might have been lost amidst the greyness. That debate in 2011 was excruciating. Conducted by two grey men, it might now be looked back upon as the moment when the two-party system condemned itself to the political waste bin. If that was Spain's politics, with two tedious and not especially sympathetic characters representing it, change could not have come soon enough.
The new politics expounded by Iglesias and Rivera is not simply an alteration to political party dynamics, not just an assault on the sleaze and the inherent corruption of the two-party state, it is also much closer to the "citizens" through personality. Spain could abide the aloof drabness of Aznar and Zapatero during the boom times. It could also accept, for a time, the unappealing Rajoy, if this was what it genuinely had to endure. Now, battered by austerity and the greyness inflicted on society, it looks for colour, ironically capable of looking forward to this because of the at least partially successful policies of the PP. As the charismatic González supplied a vitality to the youthful democracy in 1982, so the stage awaits a similar character to advance the rebirth of a country that has been kicked but not totally humiliated, unlike Greece.
But González was able to emerge as the flagwaver of the two-party system that resulted from the chaotic transition with its alliances of convenience. A new chaos of alliance now beckons because of its dismantling. Charisma might abound, but it will be enjoyed only by minorities of supporters and rejected by the combined majorities of others. Political colour is being supplied, but who's to be the artist?
Life will be breathed into this four-party system for at least as long as the life of the next legislature (until the end of 2019). Whether it survives beyond this will depend upon what happens between now and then. The deniers may, in the long term, prove to be right. If they are for the PP and PSOE, they will hope that they are.
Unless the opinion polls are wildly wrong, a prediction can be made before the electorate heads to the booths on Sunday week. Spain's political scene will be altered. It will also be highly uncertain. The country's general elections would normally expect to demand the footnotes of mainly indifference outside the nation's borders, but not this one. It will be watched like a hawk, with the eyes of Brussels, among others, firmly trained on it.
Judging by the comparative turnouts in Palma this week, the Podemos bubble appears anything but burst. Pablo Iglesias fed the five thousand at Palma Arena, while a surreal gathering - a tenth this size - wrapped themselves up against a keen breeze on the Parc de la Mar and listened to Rajoy. The prime minister observed that this was a working day and a gathering during the day. He must surely have made this remark because of events some hours previously. Iglesias had chosen a holiday and the evening: the resulting difference was political PR heaven for Podemos.
Not that these two rallies hold a key to Sunday week. Podemos has not become the mighty force it once looked as if it might; according to the polls, at any rate. The rise of Ciudadanos may explain this. Or perhaps there was always going to be a plateau that Iglesias would not be able to surmount. But in a different sense they did hold a key. Iglesias, populism aside, can be mightily impressive. He is also different.
The four-party televised debate earlier in the week had been a curious prelude to the two Palma rallies; curious because of the absence of Rajoy. This had been known a couple of weeks in advance, the official reason being the number of requests from media outlets and schedule. It was difficult to avoid believing there were other reasons.
One survey of the performances of Iglesias, Sánchez (PSOE), Rivera (Ciudadanos) and Soraya Sáenz de Santamaría, Rajoy's substitute, made Iglesias the winner. Had Rajoy appeared, he might have been a greater winner. The debate itself, minus Rajoy, was a winner. There was freshness in the relative youth of the participants and the presence of a woman. There were degrees of charisma as well.
An argument for Rajoy taking part was that his seniority would afford him gravitas in the eyes of the viewer when set next to the younger upstarts - Iglesias, Rivera and Sánchez - but in recalling the debate he had with Alfredo Rubalcaba prior to the 2011 election, any such gravitas might have been lost amidst the greyness. That debate in 2011 was excruciating. Conducted by two grey men, it might now be looked back upon as the moment when the two-party system condemned itself to the political waste bin. If that was Spain's politics, with two tedious and not especially sympathetic characters representing it, change could not have come soon enough.
The new politics expounded by Iglesias and Rivera is not simply an alteration to political party dynamics, not just an assault on the sleaze and the inherent corruption of the two-party state, it is also much closer to the "citizens" through personality. Spain could abide the aloof drabness of Aznar and Zapatero during the boom times. It could also accept, for a time, the unappealing Rajoy, if this was what it genuinely had to endure. Now, battered by austerity and the greyness inflicted on society, it looks for colour, ironically capable of looking forward to this because of the at least partially successful policies of the PP. As the charismatic González supplied a vitality to the youthful democracy in 1982, so the stage awaits a similar character to advance the rebirth of a country that has been kicked but not totally humiliated, unlike Greece.
But González was able to emerge as the flagwaver of the two-party system that resulted from the chaotic transition with its alliances of convenience. A new chaos of alliance now beckons because of its dismantling. Charisma might abound, but it will be enjoyed only by minorities of supporters and rejected by the combined majorities of others. Political colour is being supplied, but who's to be the artist?
Tuesday, December 08, 2015
On Constitution Day
On this day thirty-seven years ago, the Majorca Daily Bulletin was able to announce that democracy had been secured for Spain but had been achieved with a lower than expected turnout for a referendum aimed at precisely this democracy. Despite what had become increasing boredom with a campaign, the yes vote was overwhelming. On 6 December, 1978, the Spanish people approved the Constitution.
When politicians of the current day hark on about "democratic regeneration" (those most notably of the new arrivals on the political scene such as representatives of Podemos), it is curious to reflect on the fact that what had been democratic generation had been greeted with less than overwhelming rapture. Released from the yoke of decades of dictatorship, the Spanish people were nonetheless suspicious of this generation. Among the ranks of leading politicians, there were, after all, former Franco men, such as Manuel Fraga, the one-time tourism minister, who was the head of what was eventually to become the Partido Popular, and even the president of the transition, Adolfo Suárez, who had been named the minister secretary-general of the Movimiento, Franco's nominal party.
There were other reasons to be suspicious. Police brutality didn't suddenly cease with the passing of Franco, while ETA and terrorism were dominant themes of the time, with Basque independence demands far more to the fore than Catalonia's. There was also the amnesty, the legislative means of forgetting and, so it would have appeared to many, forgiving.
Against all this background the Constitution was drafted and finally approved by the people, but perhaps there was a further suspicion. There had been previous constitutions. They had dated back to the original Liberal Constitution of 1812, a landmark document of civil rights that was to be abused and then abandoned by the despotic and insane Ferdinand VII.
The Constitution of 1978 has survived. It has been an enduring template for individual rights, for the rights of the monarchy, for the rights of religious and political freedoms, for the rights of autonomous government in the regions. It is not inviolate but it would take an awful lot to amend it or re-write it. Which is why of course there is so much discussion as to doing just this.
Constitution Day this year took on more meaning than it normally does, though the general populace was probably less interested in this than with the holiday having been reallocated to yesterday (in the Balearics and various other regions but not all). For politicians it was of immense meaning, as it was being celebrated two weeks before the general election.
The vote on 20 December may well be the most important election since democracy was established, assuming greater significance than the 1982 victory of Felipe González and PSOE that was to usher in a truly modern and liberal-minded Spanish nation: a victory that had been achieved within the context of the suppressed information of yet another coup plot. But while PSOE were to provide certainty and stability, it cannot guarantee it this time. Indeed, it may well fail in forming the government or part of it. Uncertainty surrounds the election, and amidst this uncertainty is the role of the Constitution: it is being debated hotly.
There are those who favour some modification, others who would leave it as it is and others still who are inclined to radical overhaul. It isn't difficult to figure out which parties and which politicians adopt these different postures. It is Podemos, naturally, which seeks the greatest change, its Congress lead candidate in the Balearics, the now ex-judge, Juan Pedro Yllanes, arguing - rightly - in favour of an independent judiciary. For others in Podemos, there might be more fundamental targets, with the monarchy in their sights.
The most pressing concern, constitutionally, relates to the roles of the regions; or it is the most pressing issue in the Balearics at any rate. The PSOE message is one of an alteration to state financing and the adoption of a federal state. The national leader of PSOE, Pedro Sánchez, appears to favour such a remodelling of the regions' relationships with the state, but Sánchez may not be in any position to effect this.
The Partido Popular Congress number one, Mateo Isern, is open to a "possible update", but his more receptive attitude than others in his party does not disguise his own aversion to a move towards the unknown and the unleashing of the enormous elephant in the Spanish state's room, i.e. Catalonia.
It has to be acknowledged that the Constitution was a product of its time. As such, there is a strong argument for review in order to take account of the intervening thirty-seven years: Artur Mas, the president of Catalonia, certainly argues this case. But radical revision? Events on 20 December may just give a clue, and Isern's worries about the unknown might be realised.
When politicians of the current day hark on about "democratic regeneration" (those most notably of the new arrivals on the political scene such as representatives of Podemos), it is curious to reflect on the fact that what had been democratic generation had been greeted with less than overwhelming rapture. Released from the yoke of decades of dictatorship, the Spanish people were nonetheless suspicious of this generation. Among the ranks of leading politicians, there were, after all, former Franco men, such as Manuel Fraga, the one-time tourism minister, who was the head of what was eventually to become the Partido Popular, and even the president of the transition, Adolfo Suárez, who had been named the minister secretary-general of the Movimiento, Franco's nominal party.
There were other reasons to be suspicious. Police brutality didn't suddenly cease with the passing of Franco, while ETA and terrorism were dominant themes of the time, with Basque independence demands far more to the fore than Catalonia's. There was also the amnesty, the legislative means of forgetting and, so it would have appeared to many, forgiving.
Against all this background the Constitution was drafted and finally approved by the people, but perhaps there was a further suspicion. There had been previous constitutions. They had dated back to the original Liberal Constitution of 1812, a landmark document of civil rights that was to be abused and then abandoned by the despotic and insane Ferdinand VII.
The Constitution of 1978 has survived. It has been an enduring template for individual rights, for the rights of the monarchy, for the rights of religious and political freedoms, for the rights of autonomous government in the regions. It is not inviolate but it would take an awful lot to amend it or re-write it. Which is why of course there is so much discussion as to doing just this.
Constitution Day this year took on more meaning than it normally does, though the general populace was probably less interested in this than with the holiday having been reallocated to yesterday (in the Balearics and various other regions but not all). For politicians it was of immense meaning, as it was being celebrated two weeks before the general election.
The vote on 20 December may well be the most important election since democracy was established, assuming greater significance than the 1982 victory of Felipe González and PSOE that was to usher in a truly modern and liberal-minded Spanish nation: a victory that had been achieved within the context of the suppressed information of yet another coup plot. But while PSOE were to provide certainty and stability, it cannot guarantee it this time. Indeed, it may well fail in forming the government or part of it. Uncertainty surrounds the election, and amidst this uncertainty is the role of the Constitution: it is being debated hotly.
There are those who favour some modification, others who would leave it as it is and others still who are inclined to radical overhaul. It isn't difficult to figure out which parties and which politicians adopt these different postures. It is Podemos, naturally, which seeks the greatest change, its Congress lead candidate in the Balearics, the now ex-judge, Juan Pedro Yllanes, arguing - rightly - in favour of an independent judiciary. For others in Podemos, there might be more fundamental targets, with the monarchy in their sights.
The most pressing concern, constitutionally, relates to the roles of the regions; or it is the most pressing issue in the Balearics at any rate. The PSOE message is one of an alteration to state financing and the adoption of a federal state. The national leader of PSOE, Pedro Sánchez, appears to favour such a remodelling of the regions' relationships with the state, but Sánchez may not be in any position to effect this.
The Partido Popular Congress number one, Mateo Isern, is open to a "possible update", but his more receptive attitude than others in his party does not disguise his own aversion to a move towards the unknown and the unleashing of the enormous elephant in the Spanish state's room, i.e. Catalonia.
It has to be acknowledged that the Constitution was a product of its time. As such, there is a strong argument for review in order to take account of the intervening thirty-seven years: Artur Mas, the president of Catalonia, certainly argues this case. But radical revision? Events on 20 December may just give a clue, and Isern's worries about the unknown might be realised.
Wednesday, December 02, 2015
Citizen Rivera: Spain's general election
He may no longer be part of the Podemos leadership, but Juan Carlos Monedero seems rattled enough to have made his implication of cocaine snorting by the leader of Ciudadanos (the Citizens), Albert Rivera. The C's are rattling along, a poll at the weekend giving them 23% of the vote at the general election on 20 December, four points behind Rajoy and the Partido Popular, three points ahead of Pedro Sánchez and PSOE and almost a whole seven points in front of Monedero's old chum, Pablo Iglesias, and Podemos.
The C's and Podemos are, in a sense, from the same mould, one with democratic regeneration stamped onto it. They both share a dislike of the old, established ways of the two-party dominance of the PP and PSOE. They both abhor corruption. But after these points of similarity, the two diverge. The C's are being cast by the mould as the sensible party, while Podemos can't claim to always make sense.
There is a further similarity. Both made and have made the general election their chief goal. Prior to the regional elections, neither seemed unduly concerned with grabbing power, though Podemos and its various splinter or similar elements - in Madrid and Barcelona for instance - made high-profile gains. In the Balearics we are by now well used to Podemos wielding its power in the wings, determining government policy while remaining out of actual government.
Nevertheless, the eye on the main chance was one that was turned towards December. May was a useful boost to credibility, but the general election has been the ultimate prize. For the C's, they didn't have the same May success in the Balearics. Or anything like it, but they are now running PSOE a close third in the polls, above Podemos.
Congress currently has 350 seats (one says currently as the number can, theoretically, decrease or increase to 300 or 400). What is clear is that no one party is going to form a majority after the election unless something truly dramatic happens (Rajoy promising yet more cuts to income tax might succeed in harnessing increased support but not enough). The poll suggests that the PP will lose around 70 deputies. It would still gain the greatest share of the vote and the most seats, but in order to remain in government, there would have to be a coalition.
The C's might seem the obvious partner. This is a party that is often misrepresented. It isn't left-wing but nor can it be said that it is right-wing. It borrows from both wings, and on one issue - that of Catalonian nationalism - it is firmly on the right. So on nationalism, it is in the PP camp in rejecting independence. It is also perceived as being firmly pro-business. Spain's hoteliers have been "wowed" by Rivera, who has intimated that he would give them the super-reduced IVA (VAT) rate they have been demanding of the PP.
Support for the C's has not solely come from disaffected PP voters, and an understanding of its support is reflected by Podemos: it is too simple to say that they grab from right or left, because they are both generating and have been generating followers across the political spectrum. This support does, though, give the C's its poll rating of 23% share of the vote and between 82 and 84 seats, around 30 fewer than the PP. A coalition between the two would be sufficient to form a government, but would Rivera accept this?
Xavier Pericay, the leader of the C's in the Balearics, consistently said that the party would not enter into a pact after the regional election unless it won the largest share of the vote. It didn't have a cat in hell's chance of doing so, and despite the rising popularity of the C's nationally, nor - at present - does Rivera. It isn't wholly inconceivable that a sudden wave of support would push the C's into first place, but this does seem pretty unlikely. As Rivera has said the same as Pericay, what then would happen?
Into all this, one has to consider Sánchez and PSOE. The poll suggests it would lose some 30 seats, which would represent a total disaster for it, even worse than PSOE. So diminished, it would have to accept any scraps offered, but the C's, even if Rivera were to change his mind, wouldn't be able to scrape together a majority with PSOE. The worst possible outcome, bearing in mind the Balearic experience, would be that Podemos (with a possible 45 seats) enters into a pact with the C's and PSOE. This surely won't and can't happen.
Never say never, should, I guess, be the maxim. Rivera and the C's hold the aces. It might not get the largest share of the vote, but with the PP it could form a government. And the reason for doing so? Step forward, Prime Minister Rivera.
The C's and Podemos are, in a sense, from the same mould, one with democratic regeneration stamped onto it. They both share a dislike of the old, established ways of the two-party dominance of the PP and PSOE. They both abhor corruption. But after these points of similarity, the two diverge. The C's are being cast by the mould as the sensible party, while Podemos can't claim to always make sense.
There is a further similarity. Both made and have made the general election their chief goal. Prior to the regional elections, neither seemed unduly concerned with grabbing power, though Podemos and its various splinter or similar elements - in Madrid and Barcelona for instance - made high-profile gains. In the Balearics we are by now well used to Podemos wielding its power in the wings, determining government policy while remaining out of actual government.
Nevertheless, the eye on the main chance was one that was turned towards December. May was a useful boost to credibility, but the general election has been the ultimate prize. For the C's, they didn't have the same May success in the Balearics. Or anything like it, but they are now running PSOE a close third in the polls, above Podemos.
Congress currently has 350 seats (one says currently as the number can, theoretically, decrease or increase to 300 or 400). What is clear is that no one party is going to form a majority after the election unless something truly dramatic happens (Rajoy promising yet more cuts to income tax might succeed in harnessing increased support but not enough). The poll suggests that the PP will lose around 70 deputies. It would still gain the greatest share of the vote and the most seats, but in order to remain in government, there would have to be a coalition.
The C's might seem the obvious partner. This is a party that is often misrepresented. It isn't left-wing but nor can it be said that it is right-wing. It borrows from both wings, and on one issue - that of Catalonian nationalism - it is firmly on the right. So on nationalism, it is in the PP camp in rejecting independence. It is also perceived as being firmly pro-business. Spain's hoteliers have been "wowed" by Rivera, who has intimated that he would give them the super-reduced IVA (VAT) rate they have been demanding of the PP.
Support for the C's has not solely come from disaffected PP voters, and an understanding of its support is reflected by Podemos: it is too simple to say that they grab from right or left, because they are both generating and have been generating followers across the political spectrum. This support does, though, give the C's its poll rating of 23% share of the vote and between 82 and 84 seats, around 30 fewer than the PP. A coalition between the two would be sufficient to form a government, but would Rivera accept this?
Xavier Pericay, the leader of the C's in the Balearics, consistently said that the party would not enter into a pact after the regional election unless it won the largest share of the vote. It didn't have a cat in hell's chance of doing so, and despite the rising popularity of the C's nationally, nor - at present - does Rivera. It isn't wholly inconceivable that a sudden wave of support would push the C's into first place, but this does seem pretty unlikely. As Rivera has said the same as Pericay, what then would happen?
Into all this, one has to consider Sánchez and PSOE. The poll suggests it would lose some 30 seats, which would represent a total disaster for it, even worse than PSOE. So diminished, it would have to accept any scraps offered, but the C's, even if Rivera were to change his mind, wouldn't be able to scrape together a majority with PSOE. The worst possible outcome, bearing in mind the Balearic experience, would be that Podemos (with a possible 45 seats) enters into a pact with the C's and PSOE. This surely won't and can't happen.
Never say never, should, I guess, be the maxim. Rivera and the C's hold the aces. It might not get the largest share of the vote, but with the PP it could form a government. And the reason for doing so? Step forward, Prime Minister Rivera.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Catalonia's Day Of Destiny?
The question mark in this article's title is important. On Sunday there will be an election in Catalonia. To believe some, you would think that the result would all but seal Catalonia's destiny. It will do nothing of the sort.
Artur Mas, the Catalonian president, has called the election for two reasons: one, he failed to secure an agreement on tax-raising powers with central government; two, because he is seeking a mandate which might lead to a referendum on Catalonian independence. The election may be the first step in securing independence, but this is all it is.
Mas's failure to get Prime Minister Rajoy to allow Catalonia to raise income and other taxes is what precipitated the election. Or so it is said. Mas would have known that Rajoy would not consent to the demand. Official rejection was needed to set in motion the independence gambit, the first stage of which is a new election. Mas, hopeful of shoring up popularity, which had been dwindling because of his own austerity measures, has used the duller fiscal and economic and so therefore less radical argument to appeal to the altogether more radical and romantic tendency in Catalonia, that of independence.
The justification for Catalonia seeking tax-raising powers are two-fold: a) its contribution in funding fiscal equalisation (richer regions fund poorer ones) is, along with Madrid's, the highest in absolute terms; b) unlike the Basque Country and Navarre, it doesn't have such powers, so misses out on greater revenue, albeit that it would still, as with these two regions, have to transfer a proportion of tax revenue to central government.
History, inevitably, plays a huge part in the Catalonian argument. The reasons for the Basque Country and Navarre enjoying privileges that no other region of Spain does can be traced back to the early eighteenth century and to the War of the Spanish Succession. Catalonia lost privileges it once had because it took the wrong side.
Economics and finance are, though, only a part of the story. However much it is disputed that Catalonia has an historic claim to be a separate nation, there is a belief that it does have such a claim. This is the romantic argument, one stripped of the pragmatism of the purely economic. When a million or so people take to the streets to demand independence, they do so with the notion of long-denied nationhood in mind, not tax returns.
But none of this is actually to be decided on Sunday. Mas's CiU party may not get the absolute majority it wants (polls suggest that it won't). If it fails to or fails to increase the number of seats it has in the Catalonian parliament, Mas would not benefit from the "exceptional majority" he has said is required to move towards what would be an illegal referendum that would place Catalonia on a collision course with central government. The Republican Left party looks likely to make gains and so could well support Mas. In combination with the CiU, the number of seats may well exceed the 68 for an outright majority, but the ERC Republicans are a very different beast to the Catholic conservative CiU.
All the talk of independence, all the talk of how a separate Catalonia may or may not be able to align itself with the European Union, all the talk of the eventual creation of a Greater Catalonia that would embrace the Balearics (a ridiculous notion as there is no desire for such a thing in the Balearics except among a very small minority), all the wilder talk of possible military intervention have been premature. Even were Mas to get an absolute majority, getting to a referendum, let alone independence, would be some way down the track. And chances are that the independence gambit has, all along, been one to make Rajoy change his mind on tax-raising.
Premature or not, there are forces which have been seeking to discredit Mas. Central government is one, and the press, in the form of "El Mundo", another; the Catalonian public prosecutor is to open proceedings for libel against the newspaper for alleging that a police report exists which suggests Mas has taken kickbacks. It is the resort to attempt to undermine Mas that highlights why it is important that Catalonia does not secede. Catalonia is, in a sense, the conscience of Spain. It has received its knocks and its injustices, perceived or real, but it has retained an independence of voice as well as a tradition of liberalism. Catalonia's past should be part of Spain's present and future, as Spain needs Catalonia as much for its traditions of liberty as it does for its money. Don't go, Catalonia.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Artur Mas, the Catalonian president, has called the election for two reasons: one, he failed to secure an agreement on tax-raising powers with central government; two, because he is seeking a mandate which might lead to a referendum on Catalonian independence. The election may be the first step in securing independence, but this is all it is.
Mas's failure to get Prime Minister Rajoy to allow Catalonia to raise income and other taxes is what precipitated the election. Or so it is said. Mas would have known that Rajoy would not consent to the demand. Official rejection was needed to set in motion the independence gambit, the first stage of which is a new election. Mas, hopeful of shoring up popularity, which had been dwindling because of his own austerity measures, has used the duller fiscal and economic and so therefore less radical argument to appeal to the altogether more radical and romantic tendency in Catalonia, that of independence.
The justification for Catalonia seeking tax-raising powers are two-fold: a) its contribution in funding fiscal equalisation (richer regions fund poorer ones) is, along with Madrid's, the highest in absolute terms; b) unlike the Basque Country and Navarre, it doesn't have such powers, so misses out on greater revenue, albeit that it would still, as with these two regions, have to transfer a proportion of tax revenue to central government.
History, inevitably, plays a huge part in the Catalonian argument. The reasons for the Basque Country and Navarre enjoying privileges that no other region of Spain does can be traced back to the early eighteenth century and to the War of the Spanish Succession. Catalonia lost privileges it once had because it took the wrong side.
Economics and finance are, though, only a part of the story. However much it is disputed that Catalonia has an historic claim to be a separate nation, there is a belief that it does have such a claim. This is the romantic argument, one stripped of the pragmatism of the purely economic. When a million or so people take to the streets to demand independence, they do so with the notion of long-denied nationhood in mind, not tax returns.
But none of this is actually to be decided on Sunday. Mas's CiU party may not get the absolute majority it wants (polls suggest that it won't). If it fails to or fails to increase the number of seats it has in the Catalonian parliament, Mas would not benefit from the "exceptional majority" he has said is required to move towards what would be an illegal referendum that would place Catalonia on a collision course with central government. The Republican Left party looks likely to make gains and so could well support Mas. In combination with the CiU, the number of seats may well exceed the 68 for an outright majority, but the ERC Republicans are a very different beast to the Catholic conservative CiU.
All the talk of independence, all the talk of how a separate Catalonia may or may not be able to align itself with the European Union, all the talk of the eventual creation of a Greater Catalonia that would embrace the Balearics (a ridiculous notion as there is no desire for such a thing in the Balearics except among a very small minority), all the wilder talk of possible military intervention have been premature. Even were Mas to get an absolute majority, getting to a referendum, let alone independence, would be some way down the track. And chances are that the independence gambit has, all along, been one to make Rajoy change his mind on tax-raising.
Premature or not, there are forces which have been seeking to discredit Mas. Central government is one, and the press, in the form of "El Mundo", another; the Catalonian public prosecutor is to open proceedings for libel against the newspaper for alleging that a police report exists which suggests Mas has taken kickbacks. It is the resort to attempt to undermine Mas that highlights why it is important that Catalonia does not secede. Catalonia is, in a sense, the conscience of Spain. It has received its knocks and its injustices, perceived or real, but it has retained an independence of voice as well as a tradition of liberalism. Catalonia's past should be part of Spain's present and future, as Spain needs Catalonia as much for its traditions of liberty as it does for its money. Don't go, Catalonia.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
MALLORCA TODAY - Changes to Pollensa's Moors and Christians election campaign
You really wouldn't think that the system of campaigning for who gets to play Joan Mas and Dragut at the annual Moors and Christians battle in Pollensa would arouse much by the way of controversy, but there have been complaints in previous years about the length of the campaign and the amount of election literature that gets stuffed distributed. The town hall has, therefore, decided that campaigning will take place only on the day of the election (20 July).
See more: Diario de Mallorca
See more: Diario de Mallorca
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