This Wednesday is Balearics Day. On 1 March 1983 the islands were officially granted regional autonomy. The official part is crucial for determining the date. It was 1 March when the announcement was made on the Official Bulletin. The law by which autonomy was approved was in fact passed on 25 February.
The day is essentially a celebration of government. Once autonomy was secured, it was only a short time before the first elections were held and the first government in the Balearics was formed. It was an historic development. One-time institutions or organisations which had been at the core of economic, social and political affairs disappeared or were superseded. The Mallorca Tourist Board was one such. There was to be a tourism ministry for the first time and so therefore a governmental tourism promotion agency rather than one that was a private club, albeit a very large club that had done so much for the island's tourism for almost eighty years.
With autonomy came legislation: the Balearics own legislation, not law foisted upon the islands (or never passed) by a distant power in Madrid. Tourism was but one area to come under legislative scrutiny. The environment was another. The two seemingly irreconcilables - tourism and environment - have been scrapping it out ever since, though it needs remembering that initial tourism legislation took due account, considerably more so than previously, of the fragile earth of the Balearics.
Government spawned its array of what they like to call "social agents". Lobbying elevated the status of the hoteliers and of the environmentalists. GOB, a product of the very late days of Francoism, had found its initial protest voice six years prior to the creation of government when it had inspired an occupation of the island of Dragonera; there was concern about "private interests". Government facilitated a legitimisation of environmental protest. Like the hoteliers, and perhaps ironically so, GOB were to become what they are nowadays - part of a non-governmental establishment, at times seemingly indivisible from policies of certain political parties.
And this autonomy bred its new parties. "Nationalism" in the sense of defending and advancing Mallorcan and Balearic claims - to the point of ever greater levels of self-administration - split along left and right lines. A political honeypot was created, around which hovered those whose greed was to eventually be their undoing, i.e. the Unió Mallorquina.
Yet how deep-rooted is any notion of Balearic-ness? Is Balearics Day solely an affirmation of political structure rather than a deeply felt sense of identity? To answer this, one has to go back to the time when autonomy was declared. There were no particularly riotous displays of unconfined joy. This was a political development which erected something of an artifice that exists to the present day.
Autonomy for the Balearics had never been strongly demanded. Reaction to the possibility of regional autonomy, which arose during the Second Republic immediately prior to the Civil War, had been lukewarm to the point of outright hostility, not least in the islands which weren't Mallorca. Autonomous government was viewed with suspicion and as a means by which Majorca could assert ever greater power and authority over the region.
When this autonomy was to come about fifty years after it had been widely rejected, it did so almost by accident. The drafters of the 1978 Constitution originally sought to establish rights to forms of self-government for regions with historical claims to it, notably the Basque Country and Catalonia. When certain other regions made demands, not necessarily based on any historical claim, there was a redrafting. Regions couldn't be discriminated against. They all had to have their own governments.
While there clearly are common elements among the islands of the archipelago, there are also clear distinctions. History can be drawn upon, from as far back as ancient times if needs be, in order to highlight them. At the time of the Roman occupation, for instance, Mallorca (and Menorca) were backwards in a way that Ibiza was not. That island had more in common with north Africa than its neighbours and a trading system that was far more advanced.
So we come, once more, to Balearics Day, a celebration that we are never quite sure about and one - in terms of government - which is in any event under certain strains. The Council of Mallorca has been pressing claims for it to have more government responsibility as the natural voice in defending Mallorca's rights and interests. And the Council has changed its day - Mallorca Day - as a way of expressing ever greater Mallorcan identity. Balearics Day? There'll be concerts, there are open days at institutions and museums. And Wednesday will be a day off, a public holiday. Now you're talking.
Showing posts with label Identity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Identity. Show all posts
Monday, February 27, 2017
Thursday, September 22, 2016
What's In A Community?
"Comunidad" or "comunitat", if this is your co-official language preference, has the same meaning as the English "community". The words have each followed the same linguistic path from Latin "communitas" with divergences such as the Old French "comuneté". In terms of human society, it is one of the most powerful words and concepts to have come from Latin. It is the sharing of something in common - a place, a belief, a value, an identity, a government.
When Spain moved into its democratic, post-Franco era, it placed community at the centre of this democratic renewal. Regions, such as the Balearics, officially became communities. In English, because it aids better understanding, it is convenient to refer to the Balearics as a region. A community, in wider social terms, is more understandable in being applied, say, to the British or German communities in Mallorca or to all sorts of other communities. They are on the internet, there is a farming or banking community, a gay community.
All of them are defined by having something in common, as is a political community. But English can stumble somewhat in acknowledging community as an actual political entity. Hence, why region is a convenience. Not, however, that it is inaccurate. The Balearics is still a region, just as Catalonia or Andalusia are. But they are more than this. They are communities. Their official political denomination is "comunidad autónoma" - autonomous community - and their constitutions are enshrined in their statutes of autonomy.
The Balearic parliament has been engaged in a debate into the "state of the community". Linguistically, a trick might be said to be being played here. State has its dual meanings of condition and "nation". A debate into the state of the nation that is the community, that of the Balearics.
To what extent is there a Balearic community? Is the term a form of artifice, a kind of deception to portray the sharing of things in common? A political expedient, therefore, to engineer a sense of common identity? There is undoubtedly greater power in conveying cohesion through community, a greater sense of purpose than merely being an anonymous, if autonomous, "region". But how real is it?
Historically, if one goes back far enough, there was no community. Primitive societies would not necessarily have allowed it anyway, but in the Balearic archipelago there was separate development and evolution. Ibiza entered the Classical World far earlier than either Mallorca or Menorca. Its Carthage association saw to that. Much later, Ibiza was to express its separateness through the identity of architecture, transported to Mallorca only by degree, such as to Cala d'Or.
At the time of the Catalan conquest, Ibiza and Formentera submitted to the Catalan aristocracy in the form of the Bishop of Tarragona six years after the assault on Mallorca by Jaume I. Menorca and its Muslim community accepted the sovereignty of Aragonese nobles two years after the Mallorca takeover. The island wasn't to definitively be "Catalanised" for a further fifty or more years. The events that created a Catalan society in the Balearics are revered mostly in Mallorca. 1229 and all that do not carry the same weight elsewhere.
In far more contemporary times, Menorca held out as a Republican stronghold during the Civil War. In the years immediately before the war, Ibiza and Menorca had great reservations about tentative moves to establish autonomous government for the Balearics during the time of the Second Republic. Both feared that it was a move to give Mallorca dominance.
When mass tourism arrived, the mass mostly descended on Mallorca. Balearisation, the development of the coasts, was predominantly a Mallorcan phenomenon. The magnet for tourism society was Mallorca. It became a global byword in ways that neither Ibiza nor Menorca did. Ibiza experienced its own curious evolution, that of hippy colonies.
While there are common linguistic connections, there are also differences. These are most evident in Menorca, the legacy of British and French influences. Likewise, these occupiers bequeathed architectural styles, at variance with those, say, of Ibiza.
The president of the Council of Mallorca, Miquel Ensenyat, speaking on the occasion of Mallorca Day, referred to the original institutions of autonomy - the islands' councils (with the exception of Formentera, which wasn't to get one until much later). These councils came before the formation of the autonomous community and so the founding of regional government. Ensenyat stressed the importance of the councils in responding to the idiosyncratic needs of the islands.
With that one word, idiosyncratic, Ensenyat spoke volumes. Something peculiar to the individual islands. Specific differences, be they cultural, economic or political.
When surveys are undertaken of identity, they reveal overwhelming identity with the specific islands rather than with the Balearics: this sense of belonging is greater away from Mallorca. So is there genuinely a "community"? Maybe Nel Marti (Més per Menorca) summed it up during parliament's debate: the complete absence of mention of "his" island.
When Spain moved into its democratic, post-Franco era, it placed community at the centre of this democratic renewal. Regions, such as the Balearics, officially became communities. In English, because it aids better understanding, it is convenient to refer to the Balearics as a region. A community, in wider social terms, is more understandable in being applied, say, to the British or German communities in Mallorca or to all sorts of other communities. They are on the internet, there is a farming or banking community, a gay community.
All of them are defined by having something in common, as is a political community. But English can stumble somewhat in acknowledging community as an actual political entity. Hence, why region is a convenience. Not, however, that it is inaccurate. The Balearics is still a region, just as Catalonia or Andalusia are. But they are more than this. They are communities. Their official political denomination is "comunidad autónoma" - autonomous community - and their constitutions are enshrined in their statutes of autonomy.
The Balearic parliament has been engaged in a debate into the "state of the community". Linguistically, a trick might be said to be being played here. State has its dual meanings of condition and "nation". A debate into the state of the nation that is the community, that of the Balearics.
To what extent is there a Balearic community? Is the term a form of artifice, a kind of deception to portray the sharing of things in common? A political expedient, therefore, to engineer a sense of common identity? There is undoubtedly greater power in conveying cohesion through community, a greater sense of purpose than merely being an anonymous, if autonomous, "region". But how real is it?
Historically, if one goes back far enough, there was no community. Primitive societies would not necessarily have allowed it anyway, but in the Balearic archipelago there was separate development and evolution. Ibiza entered the Classical World far earlier than either Mallorca or Menorca. Its Carthage association saw to that. Much later, Ibiza was to express its separateness through the identity of architecture, transported to Mallorca only by degree, such as to Cala d'Or.
At the time of the Catalan conquest, Ibiza and Formentera submitted to the Catalan aristocracy in the form of the Bishop of Tarragona six years after the assault on Mallorca by Jaume I. Menorca and its Muslim community accepted the sovereignty of Aragonese nobles two years after the Mallorca takeover. The island wasn't to definitively be "Catalanised" for a further fifty or more years. The events that created a Catalan society in the Balearics are revered mostly in Mallorca. 1229 and all that do not carry the same weight elsewhere.
In far more contemporary times, Menorca held out as a Republican stronghold during the Civil War. In the years immediately before the war, Ibiza and Menorca had great reservations about tentative moves to establish autonomous government for the Balearics during the time of the Second Republic. Both feared that it was a move to give Mallorca dominance.
When mass tourism arrived, the mass mostly descended on Mallorca. Balearisation, the development of the coasts, was predominantly a Mallorcan phenomenon. The magnet for tourism society was Mallorca. It became a global byword in ways that neither Ibiza nor Menorca did. Ibiza experienced its own curious evolution, that of hippy colonies.
While there are common linguistic connections, there are also differences. These are most evident in Menorca, the legacy of British and French influences. Likewise, these occupiers bequeathed architectural styles, at variance with those, say, of Ibiza.
The president of the Council of Mallorca, Miquel Ensenyat, speaking on the occasion of Mallorca Day, referred to the original institutions of autonomy - the islands' councils (with the exception of Formentera, which wasn't to get one until much later). These councils came before the formation of the autonomous community and so the founding of regional government. Ensenyat stressed the importance of the councils in responding to the idiosyncratic needs of the islands.
With that one word, idiosyncratic, Ensenyat spoke volumes. Something peculiar to the individual islands. Specific differences, be they cultural, economic or political.
When surveys are undertaken of identity, they reveal overwhelming identity with the specific islands rather than with the Balearics: this sense of belonging is greater away from Mallorca. So is there genuinely a "community"? Maybe Nel Marti (Més per Menorca) summed it up during parliament's debate: the complete absence of mention of "his" island.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Under Attack: Fornalutx
The village of Fornalutx in the Tramuntana is a pretty place, and there are those who will say that it is Mallorca's prettiest. This has been officially recognised. The Fomento del Turismo (Mallorca Tourist Board) once awarded it the silver plaque for the defence and maintenance of the village. The national tourism ministry also gave it an award, as did GOB, the environmental group. Yes, it's a pretty place, but with an ugly side.
According to the figure for 2015, Fornalutx has a population of 703. This small settlement of people has much to be proud of. However, in September 2013, as an example, more than 21,000 people signed a petition directed at something which they considered the population of the village should not be proud of. At the weekend, some 250 people defended it.
The animal-rights group AnimaNaturalis recently posted a video onto its Facebook page. "This is exactly what the supporters of bull events do not want recording." It shows the commencement of the "correbou", the bull-run. The bull, with ropes tied to both horns, jumps, turns over, gets up, turns over. The slow-motion writhing and leaping ceases as the run gets underway, the bull pursued by a number of fiesta revellers.
The 250 may all have been from Fornalutx. If so, then over a third of the village turned out in defence of the correbou. This defence has official support. The town hall has made clear that it disagrees with the correbou's inclusion in the government's amendment of the 1992 animal protection law. Under this, any event in which an animal suffers will be outlawed. This official support extends to PSOE. The party in the village is likely to split from the regional party, one of the sponsors of the amendment.
The more than 21,000 who signed the 2013 petition quite clearly didn't all live in Fornalutx. How many residents of the village might have signed? How many residents of the village are themselves opposed to the correbou? There have to be some, but ... . It was once explained to me, apropos the bullfight in Alcudia, that it was awkward for the Mallorcan population to show their opposition. There were different reasons why. It is now becoming less awkward. Opinion has turned. Only Muro, it might be said, is as obstinate as a bull itself in clinging steadfastly to its "tradition". In the village of Fornalutx, though; well, it is a small place.
In 2010, Guardia Civil officers needed to draw batons. A protest by AnimaNaturalis, staged in the centre of the village, drew considerable opposition, some of it violent. The photographic evidence of this was revealing. It was not only the older population who were angered by the protest. So were the young. Assuming they were all from Fornalutx.
There is a great deal of evidence - photographic, video - of the bull-run. Some of it can seem surprising. Not all those looking on are locals. There are tourists as well. Cameras and smartphones at the ready. What do they see? Tradition, culture, the highlight of the village's summer fiesta. They also see an animal being tormented. In an odd sense, there is more to despise about the correbou than the bullfight. There are those, and one has to take their word, who profess respect, even love for the bulls that they slaughter in the bullring. This stems perhaps from the old honour of the bullfight: honour for both parties - the slayer and the slain. The correbou has none of this. Or appears not to. A bull is run for the sheer hell of it. Where's the respect or the love?
The feelings of the whole village are not being taken into consideration, has said the mayor, Antoni Aguiló. The whole village? All 703 of them? The weight of villager support, even if it may not be total, is nevertheless great. In the face of legislative prohibition, in the face of the numbers of those signing petitions which overwhelm the numbers in this small village, in the face of condemnation and the campaigning, the villagers defend their right to the correbou. It is part of village identity, part of being a "fornalutxenc". If your identity is threatened, would you not seek to defend it? Or does the symbolism, the manifestation of this identity disqualify the right to a defence?
The same line of argument can be made for the so-called national party of the bullfight. The nation's identity is under attack, it will be argued. But this is an identity that is clearly not felt by many (a majority even), while the comparison is invalidated by scale. This is a small village clinging to a relic of its past, a definition. A closing of ranks is understandable.
The ban will surely apply to the correbou. It will produce cheers and jeers in unequal measure. Fornalutx will still be pretty.
According to the figure for 2015, Fornalutx has a population of 703. This small settlement of people has much to be proud of. However, in September 2013, as an example, more than 21,000 people signed a petition directed at something which they considered the population of the village should not be proud of. At the weekend, some 250 people defended it.
The animal-rights group AnimaNaturalis recently posted a video onto its Facebook page. "This is exactly what the supporters of bull events do not want recording." It shows the commencement of the "correbou", the bull-run. The bull, with ropes tied to both horns, jumps, turns over, gets up, turns over. The slow-motion writhing and leaping ceases as the run gets underway, the bull pursued by a number of fiesta revellers.
The 250 may all have been from Fornalutx. If so, then over a third of the village turned out in defence of the correbou. This defence has official support. The town hall has made clear that it disagrees with the correbou's inclusion in the government's amendment of the 1992 animal protection law. Under this, any event in which an animal suffers will be outlawed. This official support extends to PSOE. The party in the village is likely to split from the regional party, one of the sponsors of the amendment.
The more than 21,000 who signed the 2013 petition quite clearly didn't all live in Fornalutx. How many residents of the village might have signed? How many residents of the village are themselves opposed to the correbou? There have to be some, but ... . It was once explained to me, apropos the bullfight in Alcudia, that it was awkward for the Mallorcan population to show their opposition. There were different reasons why. It is now becoming less awkward. Opinion has turned. Only Muro, it might be said, is as obstinate as a bull itself in clinging steadfastly to its "tradition". In the village of Fornalutx, though; well, it is a small place.
In 2010, Guardia Civil officers needed to draw batons. A protest by AnimaNaturalis, staged in the centre of the village, drew considerable opposition, some of it violent. The photographic evidence of this was revealing. It was not only the older population who were angered by the protest. So were the young. Assuming they were all from Fornalutx.
There is a great deal of evidence - photographic, video - of the bull-run. Some of it can seem surprising. Not all those looking on are locals. There are tourists as well. Cameras and smartphones at the ready. What do they see? Tradition, culture, the highlight of the village's summer fiesta. They also see an animal being tormented. In an odd sense, there is more to despise about the correbou than the bullfight. There are those, and one has to take their word, who profess respect, even love for the bulls that they slaughter in the bullring. This stems perhaps from the old honour of the bullfight: honour for both parties - the slayer and the slain. The correbou has none of this. Or appears not to. A bull is run for the sheer hell of it. Where's the respect or the love?
The feelings of the whole village are not being taken into consideration, has said the mayor, Antoni Aguiló. The whole village? All 703 of them? The weight of villager support, even if it may not be total, is nevertheless great. In the face of legislative prohibition, in the face of the numbers of those signing petitions which overwhelm the numbers in this small village, in the face of condemnation and the campaigning, the villagers defend their right to the correbou. It is part of village identity, part of being a "fornalutxenc". If your identity is threatened, would you not seek to defend it? Or does the symbolism, the manifestation of this identity disqualify the right to a defence?
The same line of argument can be made for the so-called national party of the bullfight. The nation's identity is under attack, it will be argued. But this is an identity that is clearly not felt by many (a majority even), while the comparison is invalidated by scale. This is a small village clinging to a relic of its past, a definition. A closing of ranks is understandable.
The ban will surely apply to the correbou. It will produce cheers and jeers in unequal measure. Fornalutx will still be pretty.
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
Mallorca's Identity Conundrum
It is, when you think about it, a bit odd. There you are, stuck on an island some 250 kilometres off the Spanish mainland to which your owners (the Spanish) paid scant regard for several centuries. And yet there you are, nevertheless, a part of Spain. It is the lot of islands that they tend to belong to someone, albeit that the Maltese have eventually made a pretty decent fist of not being.
A distinction needs to be made between Spain the state and Spain the mainland. Not that Spain, as such, existed when the Catalans and Aragonese arrived in the thirteenth century. It was the marriage of Ferdinand of Aragon to Isabel of Castile - more than two hundred years after the conquest - that sowed the seeds of a unified Spain. But even this union didn't dispense with Ferdinand's Crown, that of Aragon. It was to be roughly 250 more years before the Crown was dismantled together with Mallorca's part within it. Three hundred years ago marked the moment when Mallorca became definitively a part of the Spanish nation and a centralised one at that.
But prior to the enactment of the Nueva Planta decree and subsequently, Mallorca was largely ignored. Yes, it had some trading significance as well as some strategic military importance, but to all intents and purposes it was a colony, one remote from the Spanish state and mainland. It had its Viceroy, its Governor and then its Captain-General. But here, fundamentally, was an island which owed nothing to the more ancient history of Spain or indeed Catalonia. In the cultural mix of Spain, one forged from invasion and migration, Mallorca and the Balearics were the missing link (as were the Canaries). The islands and the islanders were never of the Visigoth stock which determined the course of the development of the Iberian peninsula. Not that is, until a branch line of Visigoth inter-mingled descendants came and took it over in 1229.
Colonialism, both Catalan and Spanish, implanted culture, but even now the arguments rage as to what this culture actually is or should be, and so extend to the seemingly endless quest to understand the identity (linguistic and otherwise) of the island and of the islanders. Within this debate, there is the vital factor of what happened some sixty years ago. For so long a sort of afterthought appendage to the rest of Spain, Mallorca suddenly assumed a position of critical importance. It wasn't to be the nation's bread basket so much as the nation's principal foreign-exchange agency. Tourism, ultimately, was all about money, and only some of it was for Mallorca.
The new colonisation wasn't solely that by tourists or by foreigners buying up what were then cheap-as-chips properties. It was one of enormous labour migration. In the 1950s, before the boom started, migration contributed roughly 7% of population growth. By 1970 this had risen to almost 30%, a great deal of it coming from parts of Spain without the old Aragonese connection: Andalusia, most notably.
The population of Mallorca in 1960 was just over 360,000. It has since grown by over 500,000, and within this increase is the detectable influence of the mainland. Which are the most popular surnames in Mallorca? Well, they're not ones of specifically Catalan origin. They are García, Martínez.
While many migrants will, so to speak, have gone native, is it the change in demographics of the past sixty years which helps to explain the results of the latest study of Mallorcan and Balearic identity? The annual Gadeso research is a significant sociological survey and it consistently shows that Mallorcans consider themselves as much Spanish as they do citizens of the Balearics. What it also shows is that a majority (63%) identify more with Mallorca than with the Balearics. This isn't particularly surprising, but what might be considered to be surprising is the almost total absence of sentiment towards Catalonia. A mere two per cent of Mallorcans identify with the "Catalan Lands".
The Council of Mallorca president, Miquel Ensenyat, has some justification in referring to the "colonial" nature of the financing arrangement between Mallorca and the Balearics and the state. The islands are disadvantaged, and one can argue that the colonisation from the 1960s has consistently been more to the advantage of the state than to the islands. Yet despite this, and despite what the likes of Ensenyat ultimately avow - a form of Mallorcan independence within a Catalan Lands nationalism - the popular sentiment for this, as shown by Gadeso, simply doesn't exist.
This is political sentiment, so a similar survey of cultural sentiment might well show a very different result in terms of Catalan identity, but it is nonetheless rather odd that those centuries of Spanish neglect should now appear to show a firm connection with Spain and almost none with the lands that introduced that original cultural identity.
A distinction needs to be made between Spain the state and Spain the mainland. Not that Spain, as such, existed when the Catalans and Aragonese arrived in the thirteenth century. It was the marriage of Ferdinand of Aragon to Isabel of Castile - more than two hundred years after the conquest - that sowed the seeds of a unified Spain. But even this union didn't dispense with Ferdinand's Crown, that of Aragon. It was to be roughly 250 more years before the Crown was dismantled together with Mallorca's part within it. Three hundred years ago marked the moment when Mallorca became definitively a part of the Spanish nation and a centralised one at that.
But prior to the enactment of the Nueva Planta decree and subsequently, Mallorca was largely ignored. Yes, it had some trading significance as well as some strategic military importance, but to all intents and purposes it was a colony, one remote from the Spanish state and mainland. It had its Viceroy, its Governor and then its Captain-General. But here, fundamentally, was an island which owed nothing to the more ancient history of Spain or indeed Catalonia. In the cultural mix of Spain, one forged from invasion and migration, Mallorca and the Balearics were the missing link (as were the Canaries). The islands and the islanders were never of the Visigoth stock which determined the course of the development of the Iberian peninsula. Not that is, until a branch line of Visigoth inter-mingled descendants came and took it over in 1229.
Colonialism, both Catalan and Spanish, implanted culture, but even now the arguments rage as to what this culture actually is or should be, and so extend to the seemingly endless quest to understand the identity (linguistic and otherwise) of the island and of the islanders. Within this debate, there is the vital factor of what happened some sixty years ago. For so long a sort of afterthought appendage to the rest of Spain, Mallorca suddenly assumed a position of critical importance. It wasn't to be the nation's bread basket so much as the nation's principal foreign-exchange agency. Tourism, ultimately, was all about money, and only some of it was for Mallorca.
The new colonisation wasn't solely that by tourists or by foreigners buying up what were then cheap-as-chips properties. It was one of enormous labour migration. In the 1950s, before the boom started, migration contributed roughly 7% of population growth. By 1970 this had risen to almost 30%, a great deal of it coming from parts of Spain without the old Aragonese connection: Andalusia, most notably.
The population of Mallorca in 1960 was just over 360,000. It has since grown by over 500,000, and within this increase is the detectable influence of the mainland. Which are the most popular surnames in Mallorca? Well, they're not ones of specifically Catalan origin. They are García, Martínez.
While many migrants will, so to speak, have gone native, is it the change in demographics of the past sixty years which helps to explain the results of the latest study of Mallorcan and Balearic identity? The annual Gadeso research is a significant sociological survey and it consistently shows that Mallorcans consider themselves as much Spanish as they do citizens of the Balearics. What it also shows is that a majority (63%) identify more with Mallorca than with the Balearics. This isn't particularly surprising, but what might be considered to be surprising is the almost total absence of sentiment towards Catalonia. A mere two per cent of Mallorcans identify with the "Catalan Lands".
The Council of Mallorca president, Miquel Ensenyat, has some justification in referring to the "colonial" nature of the financing arrangement between Mallorca and the Balearics and the state. The islands are disadvantaged, and one can argue that the colonisation from the 1960s has consistently been more to the advantage of the state than to the islands. Yet despite this, and despite what the likes of Ensenyat ultimately avow - a form of Mallorcan independence within a Catalan Lands nationalism - the popular sentiment for this, as shown by Gadeso, simply doesn't exist.
This is political sentiment, so a similar survey of cultural sentiment might well show a very different result in terms of Catalan identity, but it is nonetheless rather odd that those centuries of Spanish neglect should now appear to show a firm connection with Spain and almost none with the lands that introduced that original cultural identity.
Tuesday, December 03, 2013
Just The Way We Are: Balearics identity
I have previously reported on the Gadeso surveys of what the people of the Balearics identify with - the islands, an island or Spain. Previously though, the results might have provoked a resounding so-what. The latest survey is rather more significant. It has been undertaken against a political background which raises issues regarding this identity far more keenly than in the past. This background, that of regional government's apparent indifference to regionalism (and so the political identity of the Balearics) and antagonism towards Catalonia and to Catalan, might well have been expected to have produced results which reflect a backlash against government policies and attitudes. And to some extent, they have.
While the percentage of people (900 interviews were conducted) who feel Spanish and Balearic in equal measure remains unaltered, there has been a rise in the number who say they feel more Balearic than Spanish and a fall in the number who say they feel more Spanish than Balearic; the former group beats the latter by eight percentage points.
The interpretation placed on this shift is precisely for reasons I have outlined above. Government attitudes towards Balearic regionalism have not won the government a great deal of support; the opposite is the case.
But what can one really say about a Balearic identity? The fact is that when asked whether they identify with their island or with the Balearics, a majority (well over a half) in each of the four islands says that it identifies more with the island (62% plays 37% in the case of Mallorca; the identification with Menorca and Formentera is quite a bit stronger). So, how does one interpret these results? One way is by suggesting that an island identity is inevitably going to be stronger than a broader and more nebulous one. But one could argue that they point once more to an essential paradox which exists within Mallorcan/Balearic society. It is for the region in a political sense but it is for the island in a non-political sense; the narrower the scope for identity in terms of an abstract sense of belonging, the stronger that identity will be.
This paradox carries over into language. President Bauzá may have it wrong where regional sentiments are concerned but he isn't wrong when it comes to dialects. The great paradox is the support for Catalan at a political level, as evidenced by the teachers' strike and opposition to the elimination of Catalan as a requirement for public-sector employment, but also the support for the Catalan dialects at a street level; the dialects with which the people of the islands identify with far more than they identify with Catalan or want to identify themselves with Catalonia.
Bauzá, and I've made the point before, appears to be indifferent towards regionalism because he is wedded to an ideology that places Spanish nationalism before regionalism, and this nationalism is the product of the rejection of separatism and especially Catalonian ambitions. He has, therefore, adopted policies which have lost him support for reasons that are essentially unwarranted. Over half the people of the islands are solidly middle of the road, both Spanish and Balearic, while an identity with the notion of the "Catalan Lands" is all but non-existent. It is this identity which Bauzá appears to fear, but it is a fear based on nothing. What percentage of people identify with the Catalan Lands more than the Balearics or their own island? One per cent in Mallorca, one per cent in Menorca and zero per cent in Ibiza and Formentera. And of those who do identify with the Catalan Lands, their profile is as it might be expected. They vote for the left-wing/green parties and they are young. People who vote for the mainstream Partido Popular and PSOE have no interest in the Catalan Lands; the overwhelming majority therefore.
Of other findings in the survey, there isn't much support for a move towards a federal arrangement for the regions of Spain; a mere 8% back such a system. Only 1% wants independence, which confirms the lack of radicalism that exists in the Balearics. The people may not like Bauzá's anti-regionalism but they have no interest in pursuing a line similar to the Catalonians.
Then there is what people think about how government is organised. This shows the greatest divergence of opinion between Mallorca and the other islands. 8% of Mallorcans would like the island councils to have greater responsibilities. 54% of Menorcans would like to see this. 10% of Mallorcans, admittedly not many, would like to see the island councils done away with. Only 1% of Menorcans would.
All in all, a survey which proves that the people of the Balearics are not radical and mostly like things the way they are. There's a message for Bauzá, assuming he takes any notice.
While the percentage of people (900 interviews were conducted) who feel Spanish and Balearic in equal measure remains unaltered, there has been a rise in the number who say they feel more Balearic than Spanish and a fall in the number who say they feel more Spanish than Balearic; the former group beats the latter by eight percentage points.
The interpretation placed on this shift is precisely for reasons I have outlined above. Government attitudes towards Balearic regionalism have not won the government a great deal of support; the opposite is the case.
But what can one really say about a Balearic identity? The fact is that when asked whether they identify with their island or with the Balearics, a majority (well over a half) in each of the four islands says that it identifies more with the island (62% plays 37% in the case of Mallorca; the identification with Menorca and Formentera is quite a bit stronger). So, how does one interpret these results? One way is by suggesting that an island identity is inevitably going to be stronger than a broader and more nebulous one. But one could argue that they point once more to an essential paradox which exists within Mallorcan/Balearic society. It is for the region in a political sense but it is for the island in a non-political sense; the narrower the scope for identity in terms of an abstract sense of belonging, the stronger that identity will be.
This paradox carries over into language. President Bauzá may have it wrong where regional sentiments are concerned but he isn't wrong when it comes to dialects. The great paradox is the support for Catalan at a political level, as evidenced by the teachers' strike and opposition to the elimination of Catalan as a requirement for public-sector employment, but also the support for the Catalan dialects at a street level; the dialects with which the people of the islands identify with far more than they identify with Catalan or want to identify themselves with Catalonia.
Bauzá, and I've made the point before, appears to be indifferent towards regionalism because he is wedded to an ideology that places Spanish nationalism before regionalism, and this nationalism is the product of the rejection of separatism and especially Catalonian ambitions. He has, therefore, adopted policies which have lost him support for reasons that are essentially unwarranted. Over half the people of the islands are solidly middle of the road, both Spanish and Balearic, while an identity with the notion of the "Catalan Lands" is all but non-existent. It is this identity which Bauzá appears to fear, but it is a fear based on nothing. What percentage of people identify with the Catalan Lands more than the Balearics or their own island? One per cent in Mallorca, one per cent in Menorca and zero per cent in Ibiza and Formentera. And of those who do identify with the Catalan Lands, their profile is as it might be expected. They vote for the left-wing/green parties and they are young. People who vote for the mainstream Partido Popular and PSOE have no interest in the Catalan Lands; the overwhelming majority therefore.
Of other findings in the survey, there isn't much support for a move towards a federal arrangement for the regions of Spain; a mere 8% back such a system. Only 1% wants independence, which confirms the lack of radicalism that exists in the Balearics. The people may not like Bauzá's anti-regionalism but they have no interest in pursuing a line similar to the Catalonians.
Then there is what people think about how government is organised. This shows the greatest divergence of opinion between Mallorca and the other islands. 8% of Mallorcans would like the island councils to have greater responsibilities. 54% of Menorcans would like to see this. 10% of Mallorcans, admittedly not many, would like to see the island councils done away with. Only 1% of Menorcans would.
All in all, a survey which proves that the people of the Balearics are not radical and mostly like things the way they are. There's a message for Bauzá, assuming he takes any notice.
Friday, March 01, 2013
Thirty Years Of Trouble: Regional government
Thirty years ago, while Britain was gripped by the Deirdre-Ken-Mike love triangle, was listening to David Bowie's "Let's Dance" number one and was gearing itself up for the any time soon re-election of the vanquisher of Galtieri, the Balearics were celebrating their autonomy. On 1 March 1983, the statute of autonomy came into effect and three months later the islands were to have their first president, Gabriel Cañellas.
The granting of autonomy to the Balearics was one of the last of a series of legislative acts that created the Spanish regional governments in the late 1970s and early 1980s (the north African cities of Ceuta and Melilla were to follow some years later). The islands' autonomy, as with regional autonomy in most other parts of Spain, hadn't initially been envisaged when the post-Franco Constitution was drawn up. Those regions with historical claims to some form of self-government - Catalonia, the Basque Country and Galicia - were the focus of the move to this devolution. Once the Andalusians started pressing their claims as well, the impetus began by which all the regions were to become autonomous.
1983 was, in a way, the final move in a process that had started 52 years before. A statute had been drafted in 1931 in line with a desire of the government of the Second Republic to bring about regional autonomy. This statute was never effected. Apart from the obvious intervention of war, there were any number of factional differences that made it nigh on impossible in arriving at genuine agreement. One of the biggest differences of opinion was between the Mallorcans and the Menorcans. The latter were wary of Mallorcan "centralism" and were also more of a mind to join in with a Catalonian statute of autonomy.
Though the draft statute was approved, even if it was never implemented, it is instructive to see that in 1931 there was the opposition that there was. The Ibizans were reluctant supporters of autonomy, while several municipalities in Mallorca were against it. These included Marratxí.
While there were, naturally enough, celebrations in 1983, they obscured underlying divisions, ones that hadn't essentially changed since the 1930s. Thirty years on, they are still observable. The journalist Chema Ferrer is one who has highlighted these divisions. Ahead of this year's Balearics Day, he suggested that rather than there being a fiesta, it would be better if there were a wake and that the statute of autonomy was buried like the sardine is traditionally buried at Carnival time. He questions the very notion of a Balearic identity and condemns a recent political slogan - "four islands, one land, no border" - as being a fallacy. The Menorcan writer, Ponç Pons, is another who takes issue. He has changed the slogan to "four islands, four worlds".
Thirty years of autonomy have not removed pockets of resentment in the smaller islands of the Balearics. This is a resentment of Mallorcan supremacy and what are considered to be the advantages that Mallorca has and receives. The people of the four islands, surveys tell us, identify far less with the Balearics than with their respective islands, and this sentiment is stronger in Menorca, Ibiza and Formentera than it is in Mallorca.
The Balearics as a region is something of a contrivance, a geo-political convenience. While intuitively I favour regionalism and while I have repeatedly questioned the purpose of island councils, such as the Council of Mallorca, I can see there is more sense to these councils, which did after all pre-date regional government, than there is to a regional government. Because what can truly be said has been the achievement of thirty years of autonomy and of regional government?
I mentioned Marratxí before, because the opposition of that town to the 1931 draft statute has some echo today. President Bauzá, characterised as being against regionalism, is the former mayor of Marratxí. The charge that is levelled against him is that he would allow autonomy to wither in pursuing an unstated campaign against regionalism that lurks within the Partido Popular nationally. Even if the charge is accurate, it shouldn't be forgotten that the Zapatero administration had begun to question regionalism because of its cost.
Regional government was conceived as a way of keeping Spain together, but this had in mind the troublesome Catalans and Basques. Thirty years on, and where are we? Still faced with two troublesome regions. As for other regions, like the Balearics, which have no history of being troublesome, one has to ask whether regionalism has really been worth the trouble.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
The granting of autonomy to the Balearics was one of the last of a series of legislative acts that created the Spanish regional governments in the late 1970s and early 1980s (the north African cities of Ceuta and Melilla were to follow some years later). The islands' autonomy, as with regional autonomy in most other parts of Spain, hadn't initially been envisaged when the post-Franco Constitution was drawn up. Those regions with historical claims to some form of self-government - Catalonia, the Basque Country and Galicia - were the focus of the move to this devolution. Once the Andalusians started pressing their claims as well, the impetus began by which all the regions were to become autonomous.
1983 was, in a way, the final move in a process that had started 52 years before. A statute had been drafted in 1931 in line with a desire of the government of the Second Republic to bring about regional autonomy. This statute was never effected. Apart from the obvious intervention of war, there were any number of factional differences that made it nigh on impossible in arriving at genuine agreement. One of the biggest differences of opinion was between the Mallorcans and the Menorcans. The latter were wary of Mallorcan "centralism" and were also more of a mind to join in with a Catalonian statute of autonomy.
Though the draft statute was approved, even if it was never implemented, it is instructive to see that in 1931 there was the opposition that there was. The Ibizans were reluctant supporters of autonomy, while several municipalities in Mallorca were against it. These included Marratxí.
While there were, naturally enough, celebrations in 1983, they obscured underlying divisions, ones that hadn't essentially changed since the 1930s. Thirty years on, they are still observable. The journalist Chema Ferrer is one who has highlighted these divisions. Ahead of this year's Balearics Day, he suggested that rather than there being a fiesta, it would be better if there were a wake and that the statute of autonomy was buried like the sardine is traditionally buried at Carnival time. He questions the very notion of a Balearic identity and condemns a recent political slogan - "four islands, one land, no border" - as being a fallacy. The Menorcan writer, Ponç Pons, is another who takes issue. He has changed the slogan to "four islands, four worlds".
Thirty years of autonomy have not removed pockets of resentment in the smaller islands of the Balearics. This is a resentment of Mallorcan supremacy and what are considered to be the advantages that Mallorca has and receives. The people of the four islands, surveys tell us, identify far less with the Balearics than with their respective islands, and this sentiment is stronger in Menorca, Ibiza and Formentera than it is in Mallorca.
The Balearics as a region is something of a contrivance, a geo-political convenience. While intuitively I favour regionalism and while I have repeatedly questioned the purpose of island councils, such as the Council of Mallorca, I can see there is more sense to these councils, which did after all pre-date regional government, than there is to a regional government. Because what can truly be said has been the achievement of thirty years of autonomy and of regional government?
I mentioned Marratxí before, because the opposition of that town to the 1931 draft statute has some echo today. President Bauzá, characterised as being against regionalism, is the former mayor of Marratxí. The charge that is levelled against him is that he would allow autonomy to wither in pursuing an unstated campaign against regionalism that lurks within the Partido Popular nationally. Even if the charge is accurate, it shouldn't be forgotten that the Zapatero administration had begun to question regionalism because of its cost.
Regional government was conceived as a way of keeping Spain together, but this had in mind the troublesome Catalans and Basques. Thirty years on, and where are we? Still faced with two troublesome regions. As for other regions, like the Balearics, which have no history of being troublesome, one has to ask whether regionalism has really been worth the trouble.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Monday, December 10, 2012
The National Navel-Gazing Pastime
Much as it is said that the main Spanish national pastime is tax evasion, this overlooks one that is altogether more abstract than forgetting to charge IVA or simply forgetting the small matter of several thousand euros that came to be stashed under the bed or occasionally buried in the garden. The Spanish are masters of the navel-gazing art. A natural exuberance, one attributed to the Spanish by patronising foreigners prone to only wish to observe a particular trait, conflicts with introspection and self-examination, but such exuberance, which manifests itself at fiesta time or on every occasion when Spain wins an international football tournament, is part of this analytical anal retentiveness. How can a country with such vibrancy and vitality be at the same time so dysfunctional and so insignificant?
In fact, the exuberance hides all manner of sins. An excuse to party or to go to the playa delays to the point of stasis real action to tackle realities. The decadence of fiesta and a further decadence of greed and looking after number one and number one alone have been centuries-old palliatives for coping with what first brought Spain into international disrepute and then into the long decline of irrelevance.
Once the world's most powerful and wealthiest nation, Spain's fall was predicated on vested interests and on a lack of interest in development. Unlike other colonial powers, it merely took rather than gave, it didn't seek to commercially engage with its new world or to truly establish institutions (other than religious ones), and so ultimately empire withered away. The rich were interested only in getting richer rather than contributing, and so it was with other sectors of society, the Church, for instance.
Such an explanation for Spain's decline is an old one. José Ortega y Gasset, one of Spain's greatest thinkers, was banging on about all this decades ago. Yet the narrative has remained largely unaltered, and Spanish navel-gazing is still fixed on how Spain managed to so spectacularly throw it all away from the late sixteenth century onwards and on how the same dynamics behind imperial failure keep repeating themselves.
For centuries, Spain has been at war with itself (metaphorically if not actually in battle), rarely enjoying settled, lengthy periods of stability. Most of the twentieth century was one such time of turmoil, and its legacy most definitely endures. A lack of continuity has been Spain's lot, and rather than a national amnesia post-Franco, the memories are strong, far too strong. Spain is a country constantly looking over its shoulder to the past, believing that the old discontinuities will return. The memory of Franco consumes virtually everything in today's Spain.
In truth, these discontinuities have never gone away; they have merely been, for the past thirty odd years, hidden under the beds along with the undeclared stashes of those who still look after number one and number one alone. And despite the arrival of democracy, or possibly because of it, the divisions are as they have long been. These are divisions which are regional and linguistic, divisions which set republic against monarchy, secularism against Catholicism, divisions between the general public and politicians who are viewed with suspicion and enormous distrust, divisions caused by endemic corruption and nepotism. And yet, these divisions are treated with a shrug of societal apathy and resignation and the resort to the decadence of fiesta as a means of reconciling them. This is how things are, but they are also how things were. Exactly the same was true of the early 1930s.
Spain's entrance into the international community, confirmed by European acceptance in the mid-80s, should have brought about fundamental change. Or so it would have been hoped. For a brief time, an old glory reminiscent of the years of the rivers of gold in the sixteenth century returned, but it has been an illusory glory. Spain stays at the periphery. It is of international significance only because it demands so much foreign attention for the wrong reasons and because it keeps winning at football. Its dysfunctionalism is inbred, the progeny of its past and of the birth of the more recent. The latest navel-gazing has turned its attention to the 1978 Constitution, itself a job lot of lofty idealism that was designed to create national unity and to establish checks and balances, objectives that have been only partially achieved.
The navel-gazing extends to the regions. In the Balearics, the people are asked whether they feel Spanish, Balearic, Mallorcan, sympathetic to the Catalan Lands. This constant inquisition serves simply to convey an impression of identity confusion, a consequence of the age-old discontinuities.
The Constitution may in fact be part of the problem in that it granted woolly regional autonomy. The arguments over regionalism and over separatism are the result of the Constitution's good intentions, but these intentions have only led to more introspection. Who are the Spanish (or not) and what do they really want (or not)?
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
In fact, the exuberance hides all manner of sins. An excuse to party or to go to the playa delays to the point of stasis real action to tackle realities. The decadence of fiesta and a further decadence of greed and looking after number one and number one alone have been centuries-old palliatives for coping with what first brought Spain into international disrepute and then into the long decline of irrelevance.
Once the world's most powerful and wealthiest nation, Spain's fall was predicated on vested interests and on a lack of interest in development. Unlike other colonial powers, it merely took rather than gave, it didn't seek to commercially engage with its new world or to truly establish institutions (other than religious ones), and so ultimately empire withered away. The rich were interested only in getting richer rather than contributing, and so it was with other sectors of society, the Church, for instance.
Such an explanation for Spain's decline is an old one. José Ortega y Gasset, one of Spain's greatest thinkers, was banging on about all this decades ago. Yet the narrative has remained largely unaltered, and Spanish navel-gazing is still fixed on how Spain managed to so spectacularly throw it all away from the late sixteenth century onwards and on how the same dynamics behind imperial failure keep repeating themselves.
For centuries, Spain has been at war with itself (metaphorically if not actually in battle), rarely enjoying settled, lengthy periods of stability. Most of the twentieth century was one such time of turmoil, and its legacy most definitely endures. A lack of continuity has been Spain's lot, and rather than a national amnesia post-Franco, the memories are strong, far too strong. Spain is a country constantly looking over its shoulder to the past, believing that the old discontinuities will return. The memory of Franco consumes virtually everything in today's Spain.
In truth, these discontinuities have never gone away; they have merely been, for the past thirty odd years, hidden under the beds along with the undeclared stashes of those who still look after number one and number one alone. And despite the arrival of democracy, or possibly because of it, the divisions are as they have long been. These are divisions which are regional and linguistic, divisions which set republic against monarchy, secularism against Catholicism, divisions between the general public and politicians who are viewed with suspicion and enormous distrust, divisions caused by endemic corruption and nepotism. And yet, these divisions are treated with a shrug of societal apathy and resignation and the resort to the decadence of fiesta as a means of reconciling them. This is how things are, but they are also how things were. Exactly the same was true of the early 1930s.
Spain's entrance into the international community, confirmed by European acceptance in the mid-80s, should have brought about fundamental change. Or so it would have been hoped. For a brief time, an old glory reminiscent of the years of the rivers of gold in the sixteenth century returned, but it has been an illusory glory. Spain stays at the periphery. It is of international significance only because it demands so much foreign attention for the wrong reasons and because it keeps winning at football. Its dysfunctionalism is inbred, the progeny of its past and of the birth of the more recent. The latest navel-gazing has turned its attention to the 1978 Constitution, itself a job lot of lofty idealism that was designed to create national unity and to establish checks and balances, objectives that have been only partially achieved.
The navel-gazing extends to the regions. In the Balearics, the people are asked whether they feel Spanish, Balearic, Mallorcan, sympathetic to the Catalan Lands. This constant inquisition serves simply to convey an impression of identity confusion, a consequence of the age-old discontinuities.
The Constitution may in fact be part of the problem in that it granted woolly regional autonomy. The arguments over regionalism and over separatism are the result of the Constitution's good intentions, but these intentions have only led to more introspection. Who are the Spanish (or not) and what do they really want (or not)?
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Monday, April 30, 2012
The 1812 Overture: Búger
An overture is not just an orchestral work, it is also a proposal. In 1812, the overture in the tiny village of Búger was such that its proposal to be an independent administration was accepted. It seceded from the union with its neighbour Campanet, and so became what it is today, the smallest - by size - municipality in Mallorca.
Búger is one of those places in Mallorca that might as well, as far as the rest of the island is concerned, not exist. It isn't known for anything and has no claim to fame, other than its smallness (just over eight square kilometres) and, where English speakers are concerned, a name with an unfortunate propensity for lewdness.
Búger's 1812 overture was in effect more a case of unilaterally declaring independence. Thanks to the constitution agreed by the parliament in Cádiz in that year, places that didn't have councils were allowed to have them. If you have ever wondered why there are so many town halls and so many tiny municipalities, then you need look no further than the 1812 declaration for the answer. Two hundred years on, Búger has been celebrating its anniversary and everyone else has been arguing that it is a nonsense that there should be a town hall for such a small place and for many, many other small places in Mallorca and in Spain.
Recently, the UPyD party advanced the case for merging municipalities. It is far from alone in making such a case. The municipalities are on the lowest rung of the ladder of Spain's system of public administration, a system which, because of the cascade from the national centre to the regions, to the provinces, to the islands and then on to the municipalities, costs an absolute fortune to maintain.
It is too simplistic and convenient, however, to believe that municipalities could be merged or local government rationalised by merely sweeping them away. In believing this, one is confronted by at least 200 years of history (more in fact in the case of other towns). One is also confronted by a principle of localism enshrined in the Cádiz declaration. This principle had been borrowed from the French and the "commune", established early on during the French Revolution as the lowest level of public administration.
In September 2007, the one-time editor of "The Times", Simon Jenkins, wrote a passionate defence of localism in which he made reference to the French commune. His point, or one of them, was that, through decentralisation to even the tiniest of administrations (and some French communes are miniscule by comparison with the likes of Búger), local issues were resolved that much more satisfactorily. The main point was that such localism is the best form of democracy because citizen involvement is devolved to the smallest possible unit.
Jenkins drew a comparison between these small units and the smallest unit of democratic administration in Britain which covers an average of 118,000 people. Búger has a population of just over 1,000 people. In terms of inhabitants, it isn't the smallest municipality; Escorca with under 300 people is. The contrast with what, on average, are far larger administrative units in Britain is stark. But this contrast is not solely one of size, it is also one of mentality and identity.
In Britain, the loss of a sense of community is something that is often bemoaned, and successive reorganisations of local government have helped to reinforce this loss and to also make the principle of highly localised government seem anachronistic. The British mentality veers towards the pragmatic, but pragmatism is hard to establish in local administration when there are barriers of local identity and centuries of history.
Britain's insular mentality is, like its system of local government, on nothing like the scale of typical Mallorcan insularity. For many Mallorcans, this insularity is not the island but the village, the family and the network. And for these many Mallorcans, their identity is threatened not just by arguments that would see their councils and mayors abandoned but also by an attack on their language. It is not untypical, especially in times of crisis, such as at present, for there to be a retrenchment into the comfort of identity, and this means the local community. Disruption of this comfort leads to social dislocation and/or dissent. It is disruption that can come at a price.
Jenkins' view of localism can be criticised for being overly romantic. The system doesn't, for all manner of reasons, work satisfactorily in Mallorca. But it is one with which people identify. It is not pragmatic, it is anachronistic, it is hugely expensive, but in 200 years time will Búger be celebrating its four hundredth anniversary of independence?
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Index for April 2012
Argentina: Repsol nationalisation - 19 April 2012
Attractions and all-inclusives - 24 April 2012
Balearic Symphony Orchestra - 6 April 2012
Búger: 200 years of independence - 30 April 2012
Charity and expats - 15 April 2012
Coast law reform - 13 April 2012
Culture: shows and presentation - 27 April 2012
Drunken tourism: tackling - 9 April 2012
Eden Hotels - 21 April 2012
English-speaking radio - 14 April 2012
Es Trenc beach - 4 April 2012
Expat division on social lines - 2 April 2012
Freedom of information: Spain - 8 April 2012
Hotel conversion and town halls - 10 April 2012
IVA increase in 2013 - 28 April 2012
Jumeirah Port Sóller Hotel & Spa - 29 April 2012
King Juan Carlos' apology - 20 April 2012
Palma Sunday trading - 18 April 2012
Palma's logo and slogan - 5 April 2012
Partido Popular: Pastor will not stand - 25 April 2012
Pollensa blue flags - 22 April 2012
Pollensa military theme park (April Fool) - 1 April 2012
Puerto Alcúdia boat and cuttlefish fair - 23 April 2012
Puerto Alcúdia market - 7 April 2012
Republicanism - 16 April 2012
Sa Pobla Jazz Festival - 17 April 2012
Tourism law: hotels and secondary activities - 12 April 2012
Tourism law: slowness in legislation - 26 April 2012
Tourist tax - 3 April 2012
Town hall mergers - 11 April 2012
Búger is one of those places in Mallorca that might as well, as far as the rest of the island is concerned, not exist. It isn't known for anything and has no claim to fame, other than its smallness (just over eight square kilometres) and, where English speakers are concerned, a name with an unfortunate propensity for lewdness.
Búger's 1812 overture was in effect more a case of unilaterally declaring independence. Thanks to the constitution agreed by the parliament in Cádiz in that year, places that didn't have councils were allowed to have them. If you have ever wondered why there are so many town halls and so many tiny municipalities, then you need look no further than the 1812 declaration for the answer. Two hundred years on, Búger has been celebrating its anniversary and everyone else has been arguing that it is a nonsense that there should be a town hall for such a small place and for many, many other small places in Mallorca and in Spain.
Recently, the UPyD party advanced the case for merging municipalities. It is far from alone in making such a case. The municipalities are on the lowest rung of the ladder of Spain's system of public administration, a system which, because of the cascade from the national centre to the regions, to the provinces, to the islands and then on to the municipalities, costs an absolute fortune to maintain.
It is too simplistic and convenient, however, to believe that municipalities could be merged or local government rationalised by merely sweeping them away. In believing this, one is confronted by at least 200 years of history (more in fact in the case of other towns). One is also confronted by a principle of localism enshrined in the Cádiz declaration. This principle had been borrowed from the French and the "commune", established early on during the French Revolution as the lowest level of public administration.
In September 2007, the one-time editor of "The Times", Simon Jenkins, wrote a passionate defence of localism in which he made reference to the French commune. His point, or one of them, was that, through decentralisation to even the tiniest of administrations (and some French communes are miniscule by comparison with the likes of Búger), local issues were resolved that much more satisfactorily. The main point was that such localism is the best form of democracy because citizen involvement is devolved to the smallest possible unit.
Jenkins drew a comparison between these small units and the smallest unit of democratic administration in Britain which covers an average of 118,000 people. Búger has a population of just over 1,000 people. In terms of inhabitants, it isn't the smallest municipality; Escorca with under 300 people is. The contrast with what, on average, are far larger administrative units in Britain is stark. But this contrast is not solely one of size, it is also one of mentality and identity.
In Britain, the loss of a sense of community is something that is often bemoaned, and successive reorganisations of local government have helped to reinforce this loss and to also make the principle of highly localised government seem anachronistic. The British mentality veers towards the pragmatic, but pragmatism is hard to establish in local administration when there are barriers of local identity and centuries of history.
Britain's insular mentality is, like its system of local government, on nothing like the scale of typical Mallorcan insularity. For many Mallorcans, this insularity is not the island but the village, the family and the network. And for these many Mallorcans, their identity is threatened not just by arguments that would see their councils and mayors abandoned but also by an attack on their language. It is not untypical, especially in times of crisis, such as at present, for there to be a retrenchment into the comfort of identity, and this means the local community. Disruption of this comfort leads to social dislocation and/or dissent. It is disruption that can come at a price.
Jenkins' view of localism can be criticised for being overly romantic. The system doesn't, for all manner of reasons, work satisfactorily in Mallorca. But it is one with which people identify. It is not pragmatic, it is anachronistic, it is hugely expensive, but in 200 years time will Búger be celebrating its four hundredth anniversary of independence?
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Index for April 2012
Argentina: Repsol nationalisation - 19 April 2012
Attractions and all-inclusives - 24 April 2012
Balearic Symphony Orchestra - 6 April 2012
Búger: 200 years of independence - 30 April 2012
Charity and expats - 15 April 2012
Coast law reform - 13 April 2012
Culture: shows and presentation - 27 April 2012
Drunken tourism: tackling - 9 April 2012
Eden Hotels - 21 April 2012
English-speaking radio - 14 April 2012
Es Trenc beach - 4 April 2012
Expat division on social lines - 2 April 2012
Freedom of information: Spain - 8 April 2012
Hotel conversion and town halls - 10 April 2012
IVA increase in 2013 - 28 April 2012
Jumeirah Port Sóller Hotel & Spa - 29 April 2012
King Juan Carlos' apology - 20 April 2012
Palma Sunday trading - 18 April 2012
Palma's logo and slogan - 5 April 2012
Partido Popular: Pastor will not stand - 25 April 2012
Pollensa blue flags - 22 April 2012
Pollensa military theme park (April Fool) - 1 April 2012
Puerto Alcúdia boat and cuttlefish fair - 23 April 2012
Puerto Alcúdia market - 7 April 2012
Republicanism - 16 April 2012
Sa Pobla Jazz Festival - 17 April 2012
Tourism law: hotels and secondary activities - 12 April 2012
Tourism law: slowness in legislation - 26 April 2012
Tourist tax - 3 April 2012
Town hall mergers - 11 April 2012
Monday, January 02, 2012
London Pride: The Olympics seen from Mallorca
The New Year in London was brought in with the words of a Belgian. "The city of London" echoed into the fireworked night sky. 2012 had started and so, it appeared, had the Olympics.
That Jacques Rogge should have ushered in the New Year was heartening; Belgium is one of Britain's oldest allies, and Britain right now can do with any it can lay its hands on. Allies or more begrudging friends, it won't matter when the Olympic flame is lit on 27 July, as London and Britain will be able to stand proud in the world for once. Or once again.
I have personal history with the Olympics. East Ham, where my mother's family hailed from, is about two and a half miles from the Olympic Stadium. The much-spoken-of legacy of the Games should not be underestimated. It is the second great rejuvenation of London's East End, the conversion of downtrodden areas into parts of a modern city.
The other bit of history has to do with the Olympic flame. In 1948 my father ran with the Olympic flame through the city of Guildford. My family still have the torch he got to keep. A few months ago some old newsreel cropped up on "The One Show", and there was my father. Not that I saw it and not that I will get to see the transformation of the old East End; well, not this summer anyway.
The '48 Games were the Austerity Games. History is repeating itself, even if current-day austerity comes in a high-tech format and is considerably better-heeled than it was in post-war Britain. It was to be some years after running through Guildford that my father met my mother and some years more before I turned up, so my memory of those Games is confined to old photos. And now, there is something wrong in not being a part of the 2012 Games.
The Olympics in London pose a real question. Not one of justifying the cost but one for those who now live away from Britain. They ask a question of the relationship with "home". This relationship is a strange one. You are as one with it but you are not a part of it. Matters of importance to Britain are no longer so important. Only occasionally do they become so. Cameron's playing of the Little Englander card is one example, if only because it places you, i.e. the Brit in Mallorca, in an unwelcome limelight.
Why should matters of importance to Britain be important any longer? If you are so long out of the country that you can't vote, then they aren't so important, and if you are so long out of the country but no so long that you can still vote, why would you bother? Why, apart from expressing your enfranchisement, should having an influence in an election be of any importance if you no longer live there?
An answer may lie less in a determination to exercise a democratic right than with an enduring identity, one that has not been supplanted by a sense of having gone native. And assumptions are often made that the expat is uninterested in native affairs in Mallorca and Spain. It's an assumption I have often made, but it is one that I increasingly find myself challenging.
Ease of communication thanks to satellite and internet has made it easier to remain rooted in matters of "home", but it has also made it easier, and is making it easier, to discover more about matters of importance in the new home, the expat home. Even those who don't do the native in terms of speaking the language can put stuff from Spanish (or indeed Catalan) websites into Google and get some idea as to what is being said. This is a real positive.
You don't lose your identity, of course you don't, but the issue is to what extent you assume another one, one that is less rooted in matters of "home". There are, though, occasions when "home" is all that matters: sporting occasions, for example. And this year these will mean the Euros and the Olympics, and an Olympic Games staged at "home".
Olympic deniers and those who truly have gone native will pooh-pooh the Games. They are entitled to if they so wish. I for one won't be. "The city of London." "London pride has been handed down to us." I just wish I was going to be there. Old flame has a certain connotation, but in my case, it has a rather different one.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
That Jacques Rogge should have ushered in the New Year was heartening; Belgium is one of Britain's oldest allies, and Britain right now can do with any it can lay its hands on. Allies or more begrudging friends, it won't matter when the Olympic flame is lit on 27 July, as London and Britain will be able to stand proud in the world for once. Or once again.
I have personal history with the Olympics. East Ham, where my mother's family hailed from, is about two and a half miles from the Olympic Stadium. The much-spoken-of legacy of the Games should not be underestimated. It is the second great rejuvenation of London's East End, the conversion of downtrodden areas into parts of a modern city.
The other bit of history has to do with the Olympic flame. In 1948 my father ran with the Olympic flame through the city of Guildford. My family still have the torch he got to keep. A few months ago some old newsreel cropped up on "The One Show", and there was my father. Not that I saw it and not that I will get to see the transformation of the old East End; well, not this summer anyway.
The '48 Games were the Austerity Games. History is repeating itself, even if current-day austerity comes in a high-tech format and is considerably better-heeled than it was in post-war Britain. It was to be some years after running through Guildford that my father met my mother and some years more before I turned up, so my memory of those Games is confined to old photos. And now, there is something wrong in not being a part of the 2012 Games.
The Olympics in London pose a real question. Not one of justifying the cost but one for those who now live away from Britain. They ask a question of the relationship with "home". This relationship is a strange one. You are as one with it but you are not a part of it. Matters of importance to Britain are no longer so important. Only occasionally do they become so. Cameron's playing of the Little Englander card is one example, if only because it places you, i.e. the Brit in Mallorca, in an unwelcome limelight.
Why should matters of importance to Britain be important any longer? If you are so long out of the country that you can't vote, then they aren't so important, and if you are so long out of the country but no so long that you can still vote, why would you bother? Why, apart from expressing your enfranchisement, should having an influence in an election be of any importance if you no longer live there?
An answer may lie less in a determination to exercise a democratic right than with an enduring identity, one that has not been supplanted by a sense of having gone native. And assumptions are often made that the expat is uninterested in native affairs in Mallorca and Spain. It's an assumption I have often made, but it is one that I increasingly find myself challenging.
Ease of communication thanks to satellite and internet has made it easier to remain rooted in matters of "home", but it has also made it easier, and is making it easier, to discover more about matters of importance in the new home, the expat home. Even those who don't do the native in terms of speaking the language can put stuff from Spanish (or indeed Catalan) websites into Google and get some idea as to what is being said. This is a real positive.
You don't lose your identity, of course you don't, but the issue is to what extent you assume another one, one that is less rooted in matters of "home". There are, though, occasions when "home" is all that matters: sporting occasions, for example. And this year these will mean the Euros and the Olympics, and an Olympic Games staged at "home".
Olympic deniers and those who truly have gone native will pooh-pooh the Games. They are entitled to if they so wish. I for one won't be. "The city of London." "London pride has been handed down to us." I just wish I was going to be there. Old flame has a certain connotation, but in my case, it has a rather different one.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Hidden Identities: Spanish or Mallorcan?
Let's imagine that you are minding your own business, walking down the street and some chap with a clipboard accosts you and starts asking you with what you identify; your country or island, that is. Were this to happen in Mallorca, you would, and I assume for a moment that you are English, reply in song, "England till I die", and then probably nut the interviewer. Were, though, you unable to opt for England or any other part of the British Isles, but had to select Mallorca or Spain or even the Balearics, what would be your reply?
Well, imagination is all fine and dandy, but chances are that you wouldn't be asked. Unlike 900 Balearic sorts. The research organisation Gadeso has been asking them whether they feel more Spanish, more Mallorcan (or Menorcan, Ibizan or Formenteran) or more Balearic. And what do they feel? For the most part, they are neither one thing nor the other. They are split personalities, as Spanish as they are Balearic. 55% of them. But of those who are one thing or the other, roughly equal numbers consider themselves more Spanish or more Balearic, while equal numbers (7%) believe they are either only Spanish or only Balearic.
There we are then. The islands mainly comprise people who, on given the compromise option, opt for it. Spanish and Balearic in equal measure. It's the don't know answer for those who probably normally never give the question a moment's thought. Gadeso is a worthy body, but this research is somewhat spurious. Or is it?
Not completely. Gadeso argues that an increase in those who feel more Spanish than the last time such research was conducted can be explained by dissatisfaction with government in the Balearics. Possibly. It could also be that they are just asking different people.
The more interesting stuff, though, lies in the detail behind the general findings. On first reading the report of this research, my own reaction was to question the degree to which local people associate themselves with the islands of the archipelago as a whole, the Balearics, or with an individual island. I cannot ever recall a Mallorcan referring even vaguely to the Balearics in terms of the islands being his or her homeland. To Mallorca, yes, but not the Balearics. The research bears this out. Around two-thirds of Mallorcans identify with Mallorca and not the Balearics; the numbers are higher in the other islands.
Is this either surprising or important? No, it isn't surprising, but, yes, it is important. Important because regional government is Balearic, because autonomy is that of the Balearics and because much impulse for positioning and promotion is Balearic, even that of tourism promotion. Just as the tourist thinks only of the individual islands, so too do the people of the individual islands. The Balearics are a geographical convenience, rather than a cohesive political, social or touristic unit.
The finding is also important because, if there genuinely is a desire for greater autonomy or indeed independence, then it is not the Balearics which are inspiring this desire; it is the islands themselves. But even here, the sympathy is skewed significantly. Of the four main political parties or groupings at the 2007 local elections, only those who voted for the left-wing Bloc (the Mallorcan socialist party and others) have a strong Balearics-only identity. This, though, is diluted when Balearic and island identity is asked about. Across the four parties - Bloc, Partido Popular, PSOE socialists and the now ex-Unió Mallorquina - identity is overwhelmingly with the island and not the Balearics.
Any drive towards independence and an association with another vague political and social construct, the "Catalan lands", is exposed as having virtually no ground swell of identity. A whole 2% of Bloc voters place a Catalan identity above a Balearic or island identity. The percentages are zero for the other parties. This will make uneasy reading for the likes of the Obra Cultural Balear and others on the independence wing who seem to believe that there is mileage in independence and a confederation of Catalan states. They may believe it, but the public may beg to differ.
Taking the findings as a whole, the case for greater autonomy or independence would seem, on the basis of personal identity at any rate, to have only a minority public support. Almost 80% of the public consider themselves to be either as Spanish as they are Balearic, more Spanish or Spanish alone. Another angle on this, and it should be something that the Partido Popular with its potentially dangerous tendency towards greater "Spanishness" should take note of, is that only a quarter of its supporters feel that they are more Spanish than Balearic and that only 10% feel more Spanish alone. They are not the majority, therefore.
What the findings also show is a confirmation of what has historically been the case. That the people of Mallorca and the islands are generally middle of the road and conservative with a small "c". It's a message that may not please the promoters of independence and it may contradict a growing sense of radicalism, but it is a message that is probably accurate.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Index for March 2011
Airport workers strike - 7 March 2011
Baltasar Garzón - 26 March 2011
Bars to close in smoking-ban protest - 9 March 2011
British, what Mallorcans think of the - 30 March 2011
Carlos Delgado: ambitions for office - 20 March 2011
Convergència per les Illes Balears - 6 March 2011
Cycling tourism - 8 March 2011
Earthquakes - 19 March 2011
Film in Mallorca - 21 March 2011
GESA building - 1 March 2011
Historic tourism season in 2011 - 23 March 2011
Identity, Mallorca v. Spanish - 31 March 2011
Infrastructure, expensive - 22 March 2011
Innovation and development - 25 March 2011
Insults, Balearics parliament and political - 17 March 2011
Magaluf death of a tourist - 29 March 2011
Mallorca Rocks - 16 March 2011
María Salom and the Council of Mallorca - 13 March 2011
Menorca: all-inclusives and restaurant offers - 28 March 2011
Miserable, Spanish the most - 11 March 2011
Oil and petrol prices - 7 March 2011
Partido Popular, corruption and - 6 March 2011
Photography, society and - 15 March 2011
Rain, pollen and dust - 18 March 2011
Ramón Socias - 6 March 2011
Royal wedding and street parties - 27 March 2011
Seasonal workers and expats - 14 March 2011
Sepia fair, Alcúdia's fishermen pull out of - 3 March 2011
Sobrasada - 4 March 2011
Speed limit reduction - 2 March 2011
Sustainable tourism - 24 March 2011
Tourism minister, President Antich and - 12 March 2011
Trains and public transport - 10 March 2011
"Wetten, dass ...?" broadcast from Palma - 5 March 2011
Well, imagination is all fine and dandy, but chances are that you wouldn't be asked. Unlike 900 Balearic sorts. The research organisation Gadeso has been asking them whether they feel more Spanish, more Mallorcan (or Menorcan, Ibizan or Formenteran) or more Balearic. And what do they feel? For the most part, they are neither one thing nor the other. They are split personalities, as Spanish as they are Balearic. 55% of them. But of those who are one thing or the other, roughly equal numbers consider themselves more Spanish or more Balearic, while equal numbers (7%) believe they are either only Spanish or only Balearic.
There we are then. The islands mainly comprise people who, on given the compromise option, opt for it. Spanish and Balearic in equal measure. It's the don't know answer for those who probably normally never give the question a moment's thought. Gadeso is a worthy body, but this research is somewhat spurious. Or is it?
Not completely. Gadeso argues that an increase in those who feel more Spanish than the last time such research was conducted can be explained by dissatisfaction with government in the Balearics. Possibly. It could also be that they are just asking different people.
The more interesting stuff, though, lies in the detail behind the general findings. On first reading the report of this research, my own reaction was to question the degree to which local people associate themselves with the islands of the archipelago as a whole, the Balearics, or with an individual island. I cannot ever recall a Mallorcan referring even vaguely to the Balearics in terms of the islands being his or her homeland. To Mallorca, yes, but not the Balearics. The research bears this out. Around two-thirds of Mallorcans identify with Mallorca and not the Balearics; the numbers are higher in the other islands.
Is this either surprising or important? No, it isn't surprising, but, yes, it is important. Important because regional government is Balearic, because autonomy is that of the Balearics and because much impulse for positioning and promotion is Balearic, even that of tourism promotion. Just as the tourist thinks only of the individual islands, so too do the people of the individual islands. The Balearics are a geographical convenience, rather than a cohesive political, social or touristic unit.
The finding is also important because, if there genuinely is a desire for greater autonomy or indeed independence, then it is not the Balearics which are inspiring this desire; it is the islands themselves. But even here, the sympathy is skewed significantly. Of the four main political parties or groupings at the 2007 local elections, only those who voted for the left-wing Bloc (the Mallorcan socialist party and others) have a strong Balearics-only identity. This, though, is diluted when Balearic and island identity is asked about. Across the four parties - Bloc, Partido Popular, PSOE socialists and the now ex-Unió Mallorquina - identity is overwhelmingly with the island and not the Balearics.
Any drive towards independence and an association with another vague political and social construct, the "Catalan lands", is exposed as having virtually no ground swell of identity. A whole 2% of Bloc voters place a Catalan identity above a Balearic or island identity. The percentages are zero for the other parties. This will make uneasy reading for the likes of the Obra Cultural Balear and others on the independence wing who seem to believe that there is mileage in independence and a confederation of Catalan states. They may believe it, but the public may beg to differ.
Taking the findings as a whole, the case for greater autonomy or independence would seem, on the basis of personal identity at any rate, to have only a minority public support. Almost 80% of the public consider themselves to be either as Spanish as they are Balearic, more Spanish or Spanish alone. Another angle on this, and it should be something that the Partido Popular with its potentially dangerous tendency towards greater "Spanishness" should take note of, is that only a quarter of its supporters feel that they are more Spanish than Balearic and that only 10% feel more Spanish alone. They are not the majority, therefore.
What the findings also show is a confirmation of what has historically been the case. That the people of Mallorca and the islands are generally middle of the road and conservative with a small "c". It's a message that may not please the promoters of independence and it may contradict a growing sense of radicalism, but it is a message that is probably accurate.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Index for March 2011
Airport workers strike - 7 March 2011
Baltasar Garzón - 26 March 2011
Bars to close in smoking-ban protest - 9 March 2011
British, what Mallorcans think of the - 30 March 2011
Carlos Delgado: ambitions for office - 20 March 2011
Convergència per les Illes Balears - 6 March 2011
Cycling tourism - 8 March 2011
Earthquakes - 19 March 2011
Film in Mallorca - 21 March 2011
GESA building - 1 March 2011
Historic tourism season in 2011 - 23 March 2011
Identity, Mallorca v. Spanish - 31 March 2011
Infrastructure, expensive - 22 March 2011
Innovation and development - 25 March 2011
Insults, Balearics parliament and political - 17 March 2011
Magaluf death of a tourist - 29 March 2011
Mallorca Rocks - 16 March 2011
María Salom and the Council of Mallorca - 13 March 2011
Menorca: all-inclusives and restaurant offers - 28 March 2011
Miserable, Spanish the most - 11 March 2011
Oil and petrol prices - 7 March 2011
Partido Popular, corruption and - 6 March 2011
Photography, society and - 15 March 2011
Rain, pollen and dust - 18 March 2011
Ramón Socias - 6 March 2011
Royal wedding and street parties - 27 March 2011
Seasonal workers and expats - 14 March 2011
Sepia fair, Alcúdia's fishermen pull out of - 3 March 2011
Sobrasada - 4 March 2011
Speed limit reduction - 2 March 2011
Sustainable tourism - 24 March 2011
Tourism minister, President Antich and - 12 March 2011
Trains and public transport - 10 March 2011
"Wetten, dass ...?" broadcast from Palma - 5 March 2011
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