Thursday 7 February 2013

Spanish practices 2: What never? Well, hardly ever!



This delightful chorus from HMS Pinafore sums up the pressure you're under when your crew don't quite believe you...

Captain.
I am never known to quail
At the fury of a gale,
And I'm never, never sick at sea!

Chorus.
What, never?

Captain.
No, never!

Chorus.
What, never?

Captain.
Hardly ever!

Compare this to the situation this week that the Spanish caption Mariano Rajoy found himself in, on having to stand up beside Angela Merkel and answer journalists' questions in Berlin, 'visibly nervous' according to at least one present. Only a few days before in Spain, at an emergency meeting of his party's senior managers, he had denied categorically being involved with any dubious payments in the Bárcenas affair, announcing his "Es falso" denial. With the severe maternal figure of Merkel at his side, how can he do anything but tell the truth? Put on the defensive, he prevaricates:

"Todo lo que se refiere a mí y que figura allí y a algunos compañeros míos de partido que figuran allí, no es cierto, salvo alguna cosa que es lo que han publicado los medios de comunicación".

 So now, instead of 'Es falso,' we have 'it's not certain, except for a thing or two published in the press.' (My italics)

Interestingly the word 'prevaricate' in English means to be evasive. In Spanish, 'prevaricar' means 'to pervert the course of justice', exactly what Britain's ex-ministerChris Huhne has admitted to this week after long denials.

Assertions, accusations, denials, counter-denials: it seems this culebrón has a long way to go. And Mr Rajoy is losing fast the little credibility that was remaining to him.

CJM
Bilbao, February 2013

Below: A Spanish view of Chris Huhne's downfall as a consequence of lying over a traffic offence. The laughing faces shown are all well known figures in public life, from the monarchy downwards. Nearly all of them have been touched by recent scandals.


View foto blog.jpg in slide show





Tuesday 5 February 2013

‘Signs of rot’, or just Spanish practices?



 Guilty or not guilty? Months of denial, then at the last moment, as all the doors of escape close one by one, a change of plea and an admission of guilt. This has often been the pattern of events in British political life, the latest example being ex-cabinet minister, Chris Huhne, admitting finally that he lied over a driving offence and “perverted the course of justice”. It seems even his own son had been telling him from the very start to own up.

In Britain, at least, political careers rarely survive the revelation of a lie: John Profumo had no future after lying to the House of Commons over his relationship with Christine Keeler. Jonathan Aitken’s famous “sword of truth” with which he proclaimed his innocence over allegations of shady arms deals, turned into what one TV headline called “The Dagger of Deceit” after his eventual conviction for perjury.

 Now the credibility of politicians across Europe seems to be in serious doubt, as accusations and suspicions stack up in France, Greece, Italy and Spain. With Chris Huhne awaiting a likely judicial sentence this week in London, his lie exposed, we may cast a thought towards the head of the Spanish government, Mariano Rajoy, and his “Es falso” declaration of the last week. This forthright denial came in response to allegations that he, along with many other senior members of his Partido Popular, received undeclared payments from a secret fund administered by an ex-treasurer of the party, Luís Bárcenas, who himself is accused of having secreted millions of euros in a Swiss bank account.

 As the Financial Times puts it bluntly, ‘This bombshell could hardly have detonated at a worse time, with a population facing record unemployment and unprecedented austerity, and already infuriated by a string of corruption scandals … ” The most damning statement of the paper’s editorial is to declare that the country is fighting its way through a major economic crisis “at a time when nearly all its institutions, from the monarchy to the judiciary, exhibit signs of rot.” (FT, February 3, 2013)
Looking through a recent Sunday edition of El País ‒ the newspaper leading the way in exposing the Bárcenas affair ‒ you could see pages 8 to 20 of the domestic coverage dedicated entirely to reporting on one financial scandal after another. Soon afterwards, the supposedly incriminating ‘Bárcenas papers’ filled an entire Sunday supplement which sold out rapidly. It seems that political journalism in Spain has been reduced to uncovering corruption after corruption, all ongoing for months, if not years, and all referred to in shorthand: el caso X, el caso Y, el caso Z … One gets the impression that the abuse of public position in order to line one’s pockets has for a very long time been an accepted perk of the job.
Institutionalised abuse of a similar kind, in the union-dominated newspaper print world of Fleet Street, used to be called “Spanish practices” for no obvious reason at the time. But such abuse became so engrained and customary that it led to the total collapse of the system. The abuse rendered the institutions unworkable and unsustainable.

This indeed seems to be where Spain has got to with its own Spanish practices. Writing in the same edition, political consultant José Ignacio Torreblanca says: “The political pact between elected and electors which sustains our democracy, has broken, and as a result, is unworkable.” And he calls for a major overhaul of public thinking, mindset and customs in order for the country to face up collectively to the challenge.

            It does seem that public perception in Spain of their elected representatives has reached an all time low in the democratic period since the 1960s. Rajoy and his government currently enjoy only a 23 percent approval rating. A recent survey from Metroscopia suggests that 73 percent of the general public think the country is on the verge of breakdown through unemployment and poverty. 97 percent say that they have no confidence in the political institutions.

After six years of economic hardship, tens of thousands of young people are desperate to leave the country and find employment elsewhere in Europe, dozens of local town halls are bankrupt and unable to pay their employees, and banks are repossessing thousands of homes in a general collapse of the housing market.

This seems to be economics, and politics, gone mad. Austerity at work? No, austerity that doesn’t work. The social cost is enormous and will last for a generation or more. One can only hope that out of the impending seismic shift will come a new order and a new pact of trust and understanding between government and people.



CJM

Bilbao, February, 2013

The caption below announces: 'A British ex-minister resigns after lying over a traffic fine.' The laughing faces are a broad selection of Spanish politicians, bankers and other prominent people in public life, including the royal family. Nearly all of those shown here have been touched in some way by various recent scandals.