Voting With Their Feet

Puerto Natales, one of the places where we stayed on our trip to Chile last winter, is not a big town. In the Patagonian summer it does modestly well out of tourism, mainly from those who want to walk, as we did, the nearby Torres del Paine national park. Given the way the wind blew when we visited I can't imagine wanting to spend too much time there outside of that slightly warmer season. It's certainly not the first place you would expect to find members of the growing Spanish diaspora, those for whom economic exile is becoming the only way forward. But the waiter who served us one night in the local asador was from Barcelona, and the receptionist in our hotel from Canarias.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, we were at a family wedding in Oxfordshire. Having breakfast in the hotel the morning of the wedding my partner was talking in English to the waitress for a few seconds until, in that way the Spanish have of recognising each other, the waitress started talking to her in Spanish. Two people from Cadiz working in the middle of the English countryside. Last week it was a weekend in Innsbruck, the hotel receptionist who checked us in was Catalan. So what, some people say, young Spaniards have spent periods abroad for years and there is some truth in that. London in the late 1980's and 1990's always seemed to have a large Spanish population.

But I think some things have changed. Young Spaniards are not just going overseas now to get away from home for a year and pretend to learn a foreign language. Also, many of those who are leaving are not so young. People who would possibly be thinking more in terms of a settled life and maybe starting a family are also amongst those looking for a fresh chance overseas. This is not the rural exodus of the 1950's and 1960's, many of those making the move belong to the best educated sector of Spanish society. Many of them are going for the foreseeable future.

To the lords of the rentier economy, the Botins and others, there is no problem. They've got what they want from the crisis and everything seems to be going just fine as they pick over the debris from the crash. A complacent, and utterly useless, government seeks only to manage the situation in such a way that they don't get replaced by anyone else. Job creation is a skill reserved for friends and family only. The Spanish government even sets up websites to encourage people to look for work overseas. This weeks new government euphemism in a crisis where euphemism production has never been so healthy is to describe the growing exodus as "external mobility". 

The government will be happy to get rid of those voters most likely to be critical, and emigration looks like being the only factor in the next few years (barring extensive statistical manipulation) that can make any significant dent in an unemployment figure likely to reach 27% by the end of this year. So if lots of people leave it can be presented as yet another fake signal of economic recovery. Those on the receiving end are not fooled by the talk of recovery, they can look at piles of unsuccessful job applications, their friends in the same situation, and draw a sad but understandable conclusion. It's Spain's huge loss, a well prepared generation taking their skills elsewhere.

Tramping The Dirt Down

Although I usually blog about Spanish issues here, there are always exceptional cases. I was not even planning to write anything about the death of Margaret Thatcher, but the disgraceful and ideologically incoherent decision not to privatise her funeral and to turn it instead into an expensive and wasteful military jamboree has made me change my mind.

The armed forces presence in her funeral has of course been designed above all to pay homage to a military adventure only exceeded in its pointless absurdity by Aznar's dramatic capture of the goats grazing on Isla Perejil a few years back. The Falklands War was memorably described by the Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges as being like two bald men fighting over a comb. Nevertheless, we are still force fed a mythical account of democracy triumphing over fascist tyranny as one set of troops conscripted by unemployment overran the positions of another group of, often very young, untrained conscripts shivering in their trenches. 

Except that not too long before the Falklands War the UK was training Argentinian naval officers in Portsmouth. That's right, the same navy that was running one of the most notorious torture centres of the last 50 years. Why be surprised? Anyone who was such an ardent friend and admirer of Pinochet as Thatcher was would also surely be a friend of those who tossed their victims alive from planes into the sea? Operation Condor, bringing nasty vicious murderers together throughout the 1970's and 80's. Indeed, such was Thatcher's fierce commitment to liberty that she was also one of the most determined defenders of the apartheid regime, labeling the ANC as a terrorist organisation. For a while I was becoming concerned that she would outlive Nelson Mandela, thankfully we've now been spared that sorry and unjust outcome.

Meanwhile the fans of Thatcher's economics, of which there are many, have developed an understandable aversion to hard data. Because it's not a theoretical debate, not any more, after 34 years the results are in and it doesn't look good. Average economic growth in the 30 years following her election in 1979 has been significantly poorer than in the preceding 30 years. Then there is unemployment. Here things are even worse, high unemployment has become an almost permanent feature of the UK economy since 1979. Ironic when you consider that Thatcher used it as the main issue of her first election campaign. Even more so when you take into account the numerous changes made to the unemployment count that were designed to artificially reduce the figures.

Then there is oil. Many oil producing countries have been noticeably wasteful in the use they have made of their earnings from it. But even so it's hard to think of a country that has obtained absolutely no long-term benefit at all from it. That's the UK. Stupid Norway eh, with its sovereign wealth funds trying to use oil revenues to guarantee decent pensions and to invest in the future of their economy! What would they know? Idiots. Showing the way forward, the UK under Thatcher pissed away the country's oil wealth on corporate tax breaks and the like. Not even a balance of payments surplus to show for it. Nada, cero patatero.

I think of these things when, as I did in the days immediately preceding Thatcher's death, I travel on the finest Victorian public transport system in the world. I don't know what they did to make The Tube work during the Olympics but the sellotape and chewing gum has now fallen off again and you get plenty of time to think about all sorts of issues as the tannoy announces yet another delay or line closure. Cut long term investment for short term political gain via tax cuts and nobody notices the true effects for 15-20 years. Thatcherism in a nutshell.

It's a failure, an abject failure if you analyse the data. But the dogma survives in the form of "my theory must be correct so therefore something is wrong with the economy". We see it today with the slash and burn economics practised in the name of austerity. Indeed, the current crisis has its roots deep in the kind of economics advocated by Thatcher. The UK economy has been hollowed out and nobody has any notion of how to get it working again without generating yet another "your house is temporarily worth four times its real value so don't worry be happy" credit and property bubble. Of course we have to present the other side of the argument. There are some impressive statistics from the period since 1979. Inequality has increased enormously since Thatcher came to power. Poverty too. That deliberate redistribution of wealth to those that already had the most is what sustains the stupid, failed dogma. It works magnificently for those who wield economic power.

It's hardly surprising in this context of economic failure that the inheritors of Thatcher's political tradition promote hatred and fear of the poor to mask their failure to deliver. If a millionaire member of the Bullingdon Club turns out to be a misogynist prepared to kill his children to take revenge on a woman who has spurned him then it's an isolated case you see. Shit happens. But if the misogynist in question happens to be drawing welfare benefits then we get the vile, repugnant attempts by the likes of George Osborne to use the case to smear all welfare recipients. Likewise, if you've promoted policies that mean a huge chunk of social housing stock has ended up in the hands of private landlords then obviously the only solution to a lack of housing for those on low incomes is to blame those who are still lucky enough to have a roof and a spare bedroom. So you make their incomes even lower. There are even more vindictive policies than that.

Ah, but you don't understand how terrible things were before she came to power is the last resort of the Thatcherites. But I do know how things were before Thatcher, and it seems I have a much better memory than her fans. I don't just remember strikes and tales of inexorable decline, I remember a country supposedly much poorer than it is now yet able to provide a whole range of reasonable public services that have now become perplexingly unaffordable. Pensioners weren't expected to live out their last years on the poverty line, a health service that kept people healthy without corporate sponsorship! Industries that made things. All terribly old-fashioned I know, but if I want to look for evidence of long term decline I don't need to go back into history to find it.

So I'm glad that she's dead and I hope the coffin is made of lead. All the better for it to sink slowly, but relentlessly, down through the sticky London clay until it reaches a point where return becomes impossible. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and check that the cava I have in the fridge is chilling nicely and that I have the right music selection ready for such a solemn day.

What's The Matter, Lost Your Sense Of Humour?

When thousands of Spanish football fans made monkey chants every time a black player touched the ball, this was of course hysterically funny and only a few humourless hypocrites failed to get the joke. Equally, who could forget the fine, subtle irony displayed by the Spanish basketball team pretending to be Chinese by stretching their eyes? But then a French puppet show makes a joke about one of Spain's poor defenceless millionaire tennis players and this is an unacceptable affront and official government complaints must be made to the French authorities.

Body Language

It's not hard to see why Mariano Rajoy's minders are doing their best to keep their man out of public view. Spain's prime minister had his first European summit this week and displayed his absolute lack of communication skills. Not that he practices very much. Say what you like about Zapatero, he knew how to look an audience in the eye and speak to them. Even if he was constantly moving his imaginary box from one side to another. Rajoy always looks as if he can't wait to get away, and as if he has a bad taste in his mouth. 

When he was officially greeted in Spanish by Herman Van Rompuy, who is allegedly someone important in the EU, Rajoy couldn't even muster a smile of acknowledgement. Instead we got the Mariano grimace and that bad taste again. The only time he smiled was when he told the Finnish prime minister that the imminent labour market reform would cost him a general strike. The remark was not intended to be reported and someone had to go and wake up Spain's union leaders to tell them what was expected of them. The outcome is that they are now almost obliged to call the strike, otherwise they'll make Rajoy look stupid!

If you want to know what plans Spain's government has for the economy then you really need to read the foreign press. The economy minister (or should that be one of the economy ministers?), Luis de Guindos gave quite a precise description of the content of the proposed labour market reform to the Wall Street Journal. All of which is curious when you consider that no such description had been offered to the Spanish people, and when the details were supposedly still being thrashed out between employers and unions. It's all part of the game, the content of this reform is said to be part of the letter sent to the Italian and Spanish governments prior to the European Central Bank acting to reduce pressure in the debt markets. We know the Italians got the letter, but both Zapatero and Rajoy have been allowed to act as if they are just deciding themselves to implement these measures instead of being told what to do. 

Lombok....Mount Rinjani

I'm off to Malawi for 18 days for the traditional South of Watford winter break. So in the meantime I leave you with a long overdue post from last year's September trip to Indonesia. Mount Rinjani, on the island of Lombok, is without doubt one of the most impressive treks I've done and one of the most special places that I have ever been to.

There seem to be plenty of people offering Rinjani treks these days, of varying difficulty and duration. We opted for what seems to be the 'full' trek that goes to the summit of the volcanic crater rim; three days trekking and two nights spent camping on the mountain. We arranged it in advance and were picked up on arrival in Lombok, having travelled by fast boat across from Bali the morning after arrival leaving our jet lag behind us. The first night in the village of Senaru was also included in the package that we had contracted. Rinjani was hidden by clouds when we arrived in Senaru, but the surroundings were not. Later on that day the weather would get significantly worse.

It rained hard for most of the afternoon and evening, even though this was supposed to be still the dry season. Now where have I heard that before? We didn't feel too optimistic about the weather conditions on the big mountain above us, given what was falling down below, and we had to make some tough decisions on what to take with us on the trek, to avoid being overloaded on the climb. Our guide splashed his way to the hotel to come and give us a basic briefing for the next day.

The first day of the trek dawned quite bright and sunny. Even so, the mountain above still seemed to be covered in thick clouds. Knowing how cold it could be up at 3000 metres if it continued to rain we ended up taking a bit too much stuff with us. The trek begins at the national park office a bit above the village and we immediately started climbing through the forest, hot work even with the shade provided by the trees. Above us we would get occasional glimpses of groups of monkeys. The path is occasionally steep and it's best to have boots with a reasonable grip. The route is easy enough to follow, there are few alternatives and the surrounding forest is thick enough to make wandering off in the wrong direction difficult.

There are stopping points at intervals on the way up and by mid-morning we had reached the point where everyone seems to stop for lunch. We had already climbed some 900 metres up the forest path and I was grateful for a lengthy break. Our guide was also the cook, and the two porters who came with us were carrying the food, water and the tents that we would sleep in. Lunch took a while as the rain the day before meant that the available firewood didn't burn easily. After lunch the path continued to rise quite steeply through the forest for another hour or so, after which it levels off slightly and the forest gradually disappears. It was raining occasionally, but never heavily enough to make wearing a jacket seem like a good idea, I was already hot enough from the climb.

The next rest point is a good place to stop, because the last part of the climb to the crater rim - our objective for this first day - is steeper. I took this part very slowly, in total the day's climb was around 2000 metres and the last 2-300 were very hard work. There was a reward though. I hadn't expected to be able to see very much when we got to the rim, given the rain that had fallen further down and the clouds that were still swirling around. We were in luck though, and arrived at the crater at a perfect time to appreciate our surroundings. Several hundred metres below, inside the crater, we could see the lake and the young (in geological terms) and active volcano Gunung Barujari rising out from the waters. It's a beautiful place to be and the weather was on our side, although it soon feels cold after dark. Normally I hate camping, but there are places like this where there is simply no alternative if you want to be there.

The next morning the mountain was again very clear. Breakfast has to be watched closely, unless you want the scavenging monkeys to eat it for you. Day 2 of the trek involved a descent into the crater down to the lakeside, to be followed by the climb back up to the rim on the other side in preparation for the summit walk. Rinjani's crater is steep, wherever you look, and going down is not really easier than going up. We set off early, and I think we were the first people to make it down to the lake. From this position you get a close up of the volcano in the middle. But the main attraction down here is a short walk away from the lake itself. Hot springs gush out of the mountain and we spent the time before lunch enjoying the murky, but just hot enough to bear, water. 

Maybe it was the heat of the water, but in many ways I felt more tired after the springs than before, it produced a feeling of lethargy which lunch only seemed to make worse. This was a shame, because the afternoon activity was all upwards, ascending the crater path to our campsite for that night. I was happy for the clouds to move in and protect me from the sun as I made my slow way up the mountain. We'd been worried about the possibility of rain but in the end the weather was more or less perfect as the clouds just seemed to move in when we needed them. Our camp for the night was still around 1000 metres below the Rinjani summit point. It's not quite such a beautiful position as the first night, as the volcano in the lake is hidden from view. In any case, we were not intending to stay up late - there's not a lot to do after dinner and you get up in the middle of the night to go to the summit as the best time to be there is for sunrise.

Warm clothes on, head torch in position, and we were ready to start the climb in darkness but with some light from the moon. I was never very optimistic about my chances of making it to the top, I was really feeling the effects of the previous two days in my legs and we had already agreed with the guide that he would stay with me if I couldn't make it to the top. To be honest I don't think he relished the prospect of the climb either. I knew after about 5 minutes of walking that I wasn't going to go all the way. The path consisted mostly of volcanic grit and sand and we had already been warned about the effort this would involve as you try to go up without sliding backwards. My legs weren't strong enough, and I was going painfully slowly. After a while Silvia left us behind and sped off up the mountainside with some other trekkers. I continued slowly but steadily, but with no real intention of attempting the summit - in the end I think I got a little over half way.The path had got a little easier than the first part but would soon get steeper again We had to shelter from the wind for a while as we waited for daylight and the first faint rays from the sun.

It didn't matter too much about not reaching the top, the views from where I gave up were still fantastic. At first light the lake was still partially lit by moonlight. Then, as it became lighter, the shadow on the horizon would become recognisable as Bali's Mount Ugung; that was to be climbed later in our trip. The sunrise was spectacular and we could see all the way down the mountain to the coast and some of the smaller islands close to Lombok. With the sun high enough to make us feel a bit warmer we made our way back down to the campsite for breakfast. Silvia told me that the final part of the ascent is tremendously difficult as the volcanic sand and a steep path makes going up so hard and slow.

Back at the camp a war was in progress. When we arrived the previous afternoon there was no sign of monkeys hunting for food. But now they were out in force and were incredibly bold in their attempts to snatch anything edible. The porters and guides were being very vigilant in keeping them at bay but you couldn't put a plate on the ground. As if getting up in the middle of the night to climb wasn't enough, we now had the descent to deal with. We didn't go back the way we had come, that would have meant going back into the crater to climb out the other side. Instead we had a descent down to the village of Sembalun. The first couple of hours was difficult, a steep walk down a gritty path where it was very easy to slip. After that things get easier, but hotter, as we crossed grasslands with little shelter. The final section as we neared the village seemed to take forever and I was looking forward to a good rest. It's a fantastic trek to do, but it would take a couple of days for my legs to recover from the experience. We were picked up by the people from the agency who took us all the way around half of Lombok to our next destination on the coast, Senggigi.

No-One's Slave, No-One's Master....Messages From The English Revolution

I was in the UK for a brief visit last week, so I took the opportunity to visit the protest camp installed outside St. Paul's Cathedral. The camp is in danger of being evicted any day now, given the hostility towards it of the Corporation of London (a medieval institution in need of even more reform than the monarchy - see footnote) and the church authorities.

The original objective was to occupy the Stock Exchange, but Paternoster Square is firmly sealed off to all who don't carry permission to enter. It's a good indication of the priorities of our rulers. Oddly, given the claim that this is private land, most of those doing the protecting seem to be familiar looking uniformed public employees paid out of the public purse. I suppose that's what you get when you don't pay much taxes but make contributions to the parties who control the police.

A propaganda campaign against the campers has been carried out which will be familiar to those of us who read similar tales directed against the protestors in Madrid's Puerta del Sol in May and June. They're hurting the local businesses goes the cry. Well in reality the only businesses who might be suffering are those located in the aforementioned private land above. Starbucks beside the camp seemed to be doing very well, and next to it is a shop which sells, amongst other things, camping gear! I bet they're having a terrible time.

The camp seems to be well organised like its Madrid counterpart with an information tent, proper rubbish collection and recycling, and food and cinema organised by the campers themselves. The other ludicrous propaganda act against the camp was the completely unnecessary closure of St. Paul's. The picture below was taken from the steps of the cathedral and shows the distance between the camp and the entrance, there is no impediment of any kind to those who want to enter the building. I attended part of a general assembly held on these same steps, it was just like old times except with less sun and notably cooler.

Updated: Anyone who doubts the medieval nature of the City of London Corporation should read today's excellent column from George Monbiot.

Spain's Nuclear Lobby Goes Into Meltdown

The nuclear catastrophe following the tsunami in Japan has dealt a severe blow to the hopes of those who have been promoting nuclear power as a significant part of Spain's future energy requirements. In the short term the battle to keep open the ageing Garoña plant in Burgos well beyond its projected life span has received a sharp setback with the revelation that the terribly damaged Fukushima reactors in Japan are very similar to the model used for Garoña. The nuclear lobby has been relying on the possible return to power of a sympathetic Partido Popular to inaugurate a new golden age for the technology in Spain. Despite strong media attacks on critics of nuclear energy from their allied journalists, the PP has suddenly gone very quiet on the issue.

The nuclear industry always relies on a double standard as far as safety is concerned. If a nuclear plant survives some sort of potential hazard then that's proof of how safe the industry is. On the other hand, if things get dangerous then anyone who raises questions about the safety of the technology is accused of taking advantage of the situation. It's also an industry with a long history of being extremely economical with the truth. This applies very much to safety issues, where secrecy tends to be the rule over accidents in nuclear plants. Those of us from the UK just need to think of Windscale/Sellafield. But the problems with the truth also apply to the economics of nuclear power.

Comparisons of generating costs between nuclear and other forms of energy often seem to show a startling advantage for the nuclear option. The question is just how much of the real cost is reflected in those favourable figures. A huge proportion of the economic burden for nuclear energy has been borne by the state, both in terms of research into the technology and also in supporting the huge costs of setting up nuclear power stations. Indeed, there is no legal barrier to the construction of new nuclear power stations in Spain, but the industry waits instead for huge injections of public money. Then there are the considerable security costs associated with this kind of energy, not to mention the storage of all that radioactive waste. 50 years or more of nuclear power and the question of how to deal with its dreadfully dangerous waste products is still not resolved. 

No other form of energy production has the capacity to create such danger, even without the risks of unpredictable natural events such as earthquakes and tsunamis. Nevertheless, the economic interests behind it will just wait a while before attempting to resume with the soothing message of cheap, clean, energy. When Chernobyl went wrong it was because those goddamn Commies just built cheap junk. Now with Japan it's hard to accuse them of being technically incompetent, so the talk is all of the terrible force of the tsunami when the real problem could be anything capable of disabling the cooling mechanisms on the reactors. It can't happen here until it does.

Does It Matter If Spain's Universities Aren't Amongst The Best?

Yet another of these ranked listings of world universities has put those from Spain way down the list. This latest ranking, from the Times Higher Education website, has the University of Barcelona as the first Spanish educational institution to appear - in 142nd position. Ahead of Spain, apart from the UK, France and Germany are other Western European countries such as Switzerland, The Netherlands, Sweden, Ireland, Belgium, Finland, and Austria. Still, it could be worse. The Shanghai world university ratings put the first Spanish university (Madrid's Universidad Autonoma) in a dismal 201st on the list. In this ranking Spain doesn't lead the Spanish speaking world, both Mexico and Argentina have higher ranked institutions.

So does it matter? The immediate instinctive response is to say of course it should, a developed European country with 46 million inhabitants could reasonably expect to have at least one well regarded university. I ask the question of whether it matters partly because it doesn't seem to matter much to the Spanish. There are some who bemoan the lack of research investment, or the general lack of facilities in higher education in Spain, but not many. Education hardly seems to feature in the national political debate, and I'm not just talking about university education. A country where 30% of pupils have been abandoning education at the first possible opportunity should have something to worry about, but how much do you hear about this? It's far easier, especially if you live where I do, to find someone who thinks that the only educational problem the country has is to do with the language of instruction used in Cataluña.

I took a look at some of the responses to the Times rankings in both Público and Meneame. It's a bit depressing to read the comments. The worst case response is that which opts for the hyper-sensitive and defensive line that it's all part of the Great Anglo-Saxon Conspiracy. According to this theory of the world, any ranking of any kind which fails to put Spain in a high position is using a secret weighting factor devised by those evil anglo-saxons to specifically exclude the Spanish from the higher positions. Other commenters seem to think it just doesn't matter because Spain continues to produce substantial quantities of well educated graduates and doesn't go in for the elitist selection policies applied in other countries.

I have some sympathy with the last argument, but only some. The problem is that it converts the idea of higher education into that of universities being a variety of graduate factory. The missing factor with this argument, apart from the production line vision of what a university is for, is that universities are not just supposed to be about teaching. I've only ever been to Cambridge University as a tourist and there is much I dislike about the elitism of the UK's top universities. But I have to see the other side of the coin, I've been making a decent living for much of the last 20 years out of a software application which is a fairly direct descendant of work that was done at Cambridge. It's in innovation where Spain's universities really seem to be absent. 

Everything has to be put into context, having Silicon Valley doesn't make a single significant difference to the daily lives of many people in the US, and the UK's possession of some very highly rated universities doesn't mean that it has any sort of stable economic model to offer a future for its graduates. But having a policy that encourages and promotes academic innovation has to have some sort of knock on effect for the rest of society. Spain doesn't have an economic model that values education despite the often extraordinary importance which is attached to academic qualifications as opposed to professional experience. That is a fundamental problem for times when economies that can't create employment for the future are going to end up adding more and more unwilling additions to the ranks of the insecure and badly paid.

Gaddafi's Spanish Connections

With the rush to condemn Colonel Gaddafi's attempts to crush his opponents in Libya, it is almost possible to forget just how many friends he managed to make around the world in recent years. Spain is no exception to this. Do a Google search for images of the colonel with Aznar or Zapatero and there is no shortage of results. In Aznar's case, the friendship stretched to permitting the great leader's son-in-law, Alejandro Agag, to open a partridge hunting estate in Libya. The relationship was apparently sealed with Agag inviting one of Gaddafi's sons for a happy hunting trip in Spain. 

In return the Libyan regime also became a landowner in Spain, owning a substantial 6.500 hectare finca in Málaga. It seems that there were plans to construct houses and the obligatory golf course on part of this estate, but that the proposal ran into planning difficulties. This seems to be an extraordinarily anomalous situation given that everyone else in the country has normally gone ahead and built their houses without even worrying about the minor details of licenses. A further connection with Spain is that one of the Libyan leader's numerous sons has been studying in Madrid, a post-graduate MBA at the IE Business School. It appears that following the scandal this week involving the London School of Economics, Khamis Muammar has been hastily expelled from the school. I'm not sure on what grounds, after all the significant web of connections that Gaddafi's regime possesses suggest few problems of incompatibility between business and the art of repression. 

With the available stock of Arab dictatorships declining rapidly, we are now getting a flurry of visits from Western leaders to the region. Hot on the heels of David Cameron's recent arms sales trip, Spanish prime minister Zapatero was in Qatar last week. It seems to have been a successful visit, with the local regime showing interest in investing some oil money in the foundations for Spain's next banking crisis as the local savings banks are transformed into real banks with even greater potential for creating havoc with our money. What's the betting that Qatar's rulers will be ahead of us in the queue for recovering money should things go badly wrong again?

There was another, unfortunately timed, international trip by Spanish politicians recently. As Mubarak's regime in Egypt was collapsing, a high level cross-party parliamentary group led by José Bono was visiting the former Spanish colony of Equatorial Guinea. Human rights featured nowhere on the agenda for the meetings with one of Africa's nastiest dictatorships, the visit was yet another attempt to get the regime to allow the former colonial power a cut of the country's significant oil wealth. Really the visitors should have worn Repsol advertising on their clothes. Obviously several other countries have no qualms about dealing with the regime led by Teodoro Obiang, so Bono was at pains to avoid any annoying references to the lack of democratic institutions by claiming that the two countries had many more things uniting them than dividing them. I hope the drivers protesting about the new restrictions on motorway speed limits in Spain appreciate the efforts that are being made on their behalf. 

Will Spain See A New Generation Of Emigrants?

I went down to my 'quiosco' to buy my paper a couple of weeks ago. I know, I am one of those hopeless dinosaurs who still likes to buy a newspaper made of paper. Part of the reason why I still do it, apart from habit, is that the man I buy my paper from is a chatty, cheerful person even on the most miserable of days and we usually talk a bit about world affairs; from a footballing perspective. Focused especially on the fortunes of a club located down near Madrid's famous river.

On this particular day, though, we talked about something else. He said he was having a conversation with another customer about how Spaniards were emigrating in search of work because of the crisis. My first reaction was to ask "where to?". After all, there aren't that many countries on the search for immigrants at the moment with much of Europe still supposed to be attempting an exit from the crisis. My second reaction was to say that not so much has changed, the scarcity of work in Spain may be making more people think about leaving in search of opportunities, but the reality is that many were doing the same even at the height of the economic boom.

The issue has come to the fore this week with reports that Germany will be looking to recruit qualified Spaniards when Mrs Merkel comes to town in a few weeks to survey the wreckage. But leaving aside for the moment the effects of the crisis, why would many young Spaniards have left the country during the good times? The comparison with Germany becomes important at this stage. Germany's economy contracted almost as much as Spain's during 2009, something which many Spaniards find difficult to accept in their belief that the Spanish crisis was somehow unique. The big difference is that unemployment hardly rose in Germany, whilst in Spain it shot up through the roof.

The fault of the Spanish government, many argue, but if you want to understand why Spain didn't adopt something like the 'kurzarbeit' policy that saved many jobs in Germany you have to look beyond the government and include the employers in the overall picture. A scheme where the government pays a portion of what would otherwise just be paid as unemployment benefits so that workers don't lose their jobs seems like a no-brainer. The fundamental problem I think lies with the employment culture in Spain, and this is where the question of emigration even during the good times comes back into play.

The German companies wanted to keep their workforce, they had probably trained many of their employees and it makes long term economic sense to maintain stability if you can do it. Spain's boom, on the other hand, was dominated by short-termism. The search for the next 'pelotazo', which goes hand in hand with contracting people on a series of temporary contracts so that if you suddenly decide there is more money in jamón de bellota instead of solar panels you just get rid of one set of workers and recruit another. In the land of the Diaz Ferráns there was never much of an audience amongst employers for the idea of protecting employment, on the contrary.

Then there is a structure in so many companies which is frankly discouraging to anyone thinking of making a career. You might be very well qualified, you might even be really good at your job, but you can still find yourself dedicating years of effort in the same post to supporting a thick, immovable, layer of bosses and the associated 'enchufados' above you. Sure you'll get told how well you're doing occasionally, although your performance is unlikely to be reflected in the salary you get paid. That's why I work for myself and why many talented Spaniards have decided that they have better opportunities elsewhere, regardless of the macro-economic figures of the day. It's easy to criticise people for opting to become funcionarios, but not so easy to explain what better options are available for them.

Nor is there any reason to imagine that this will change dramatically over the years to come. The Partido Popular, feeling itself close to power again, is selling a seductive and in many ways comfortable notion that all that is needed is a change of government for the sweet smell of economic success to return. It's a tempting but cruel delusion for those unwilling to think too deeply about where that growth might come from. The 13 years or so of boom left behind no base of any kind for future economic growth, based as it was mostly on a variety of 'build and grab'. Spain's boom years were built on circumstances that no longer exist, and even if the PP want to give the lords of the ladrillo another run for other people's money there is the tiny detail of those hundreds of thousands of unsold dwellings. Emigration is a worse option now than it was a few years ago, but the difference is not as great as some would pretend.

What Happens If ETA's Ceasefire Is For Real?

The latest declaration by ETA of a general and permanent ceasefire doesn't seem to have done much to change the outlook on achieving an end to political violence in the Basque Country. The problem with the statement is that it attempts to take us back to 2006, when the group also promised a "permanent" ceasefire, one that was broken when they didn't get what they wanted from the negotiating process with the Spanish government and which led to the 2007 bomb in Madrid airport that killed two people.

Maybe ETA, recently under intense police pressure, want to try and pick up the thread of negotiation where they left it before that bombing. The Spanish government doesn't and it's not hard to see why; the possibility of a repeat of what happened in 2007 is a political risk they will be unwilling to take. Add to that the view that with ETA being so weak they are not in a position to demand concessions in return for abandoning violence. Despite this, there is for the moment one significant difference with the previous process; the international dimension. This has meant that the ETA declaration included a willingness for their ceasefire to be verified by the international community.

Potentially this difference could be very important, with its echoes of the Northern Ireland process where international observers supervised the destruction of IRA weapons. ETA hasn't gone as far as saying that this is what they mean by verification, and the international mediators who have been contacted will be understandably cautious about getting involved without certain guarantees of the process leading somewhere. The word that is really missing from the ETA statement has been taken up by their political wing, Batasuna, in the last 24 hours. That word is "irreversible", but it's still not one that the men who hold the guns have uttered.

The illegal Batasuna is said to have been hoping for a clearer declaration that would pave the way for the legalisation of the party in time for it to contest the municipal elections in May. That looks an unlikely prospect given the very cool reaction by the Spanish government to the latest ceasefire. Batasuna will probably test the Ley de Partidos that was introduced to illegalise the party, by proposing a new organisation with a constitution that rejects the use of violence. According to the law that would be enough for the new party to contest elections, but in reality the decision is a political one and a bad law will continue to be used until either of the two major national parties decides it shouldn't be.

At least one of those parties, the Partido Popular, can be relied upon to oppose any movement that even suggests that Zapatero's government could preside over an end to ETA. That's what they did the last time, and a party whose atrocious and repugnant manipulation of terrorism as a political tool has been a consistent feature since March 11th 2004 is not going to change now.  The first demonstration by the far right Libertad Digital/ Hazte Oir crew has already been called for the 5th February, and the insane myths about how Zapatero has pacted the handover of Navarra to ETA amongst other concessions have also been resurrected for the occasion. Expect far more shouting against the government than against ETA.

We can also expect the South African international mediator, Brian Currin, to become something of a hate figure for much of the right in Spain; even though his involvement is only going to have the intention of bringing about an end to violence. The same has already happened to the prominent Basque Socialist politican, Jesús Eguiguren, only for having the temerity to suggest that a ceasefire declaration would merit a response from the government. This is a man who has been an ETA target for years but such things matter little to the fanatics who have more or less branded him as being part of the group.

Whilst ETA and Batasuna are working hard on building up the international dimension of the process, the government is attempting to avoid this. But if it turns out that ETA really are willing to go the full distance then there will surely have to be some sort of positive response. The suggestion that the Spanish police will be the ones who verify the ceasefire is absurd, it goes along with those who say the only way out is for ETA to formally surrender. That's not the way these things happen, and it would be a serious matter if a chance for peace was turned down on the grounds that Spain rejects any international involvement.

It's very hard to have an accurate picture of what is going on inside ETA, but it's clear that there is intense debate in Batasuna and almost certainly inside ETA itself about the way forward. The rejection of the opportunity that existed in the last process has ended up with more of their prisoners drifting away from the cause, and with former supporters more or less openly questioning the point of ETA's existence in a way that didn't happen often before. It's still ETA's move, but that doesn't mean the other players shouldn't be preparing their response.

Nepal, Annapurna Circuit....Tikhedunga To Nayapul

At some point you have to stop walking. After 17 days on the Annapurna Circuit trek we were on the final stretch. A short day's walk it was too, but very enjoyable  in beautiful surroundings. We were walking on our own for much of the three hours it took to leave the Annapurna conservation area, as we would only begin to see those who were starting the trek in the opposite direction later in the morning.

Our surroundings were a mixture of forest and tiny settlements set amongst rice fields. As with most days on the trek, we were back following the river valley and of course there were still some bridges to cross. By this point I was able to cross these without too much of the vertigo inspired fear that I had at the beginning. The track went up and down a bit as we kept more or less in touch with the river, and much of the path consisted of stone steps. Even so the hens still needed a bit of help to do the climb.

By the time we reached the village of Birethani we were seeing far more people, this village is also an access point for those who want to do the trek to the Annapurna Base Camp. It was laso the place where we got our last view of Machupuchare, the "fish-tail" mountain.

One last checkpoint and then we really knew we were returning to a busier environment. After Birethani we walked up a road full of small shops and soon we could hear the traffic noise on the road above us at Nayapul. All that remained now was for our guide to find us the taxi that would take us to Pokhara, our entry point back into the world. It was a weird feeling to be sitting in a car again after so many days. We weren't going home just yet, we still  had a night in Pokhara and two days to spend in Kathmandu before climbing on the plane.

I had my doubts before we came to Nepal, I though it was going to be too many days of trekking to maintain the interest throughout. I was wrong, I really enjoyed the Annapurna trek and the changes we saw between the lower parts and the highlands meant that every day seemed to bring something new. The road construction in the region may be making many people think twice about doing this walk, but I can say that in October 2009 we never felt that it spoilt the experience; and I doubt that work has advanced so much since then. Even on those few sections where we walked on the road we saw very little traffic. I have no doubt it's worth it.

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Nepal, Annapurna Circuit....Ghorepani To Tikhedunga

Back at the hotel in Ghorepani following the early morning ascent of Poon Hill we appreciated the warm shower and breakfast before heading out again for the next leg of the trek. Now we were going to be heading downhill, definitively. There would be no more shocks to the system like the climb up to Ghorepani after days of relatively easy descent. We were almost at the end of the trek now and this was to be our last day of 'real' walking.

Leaving Ghorepani we soon found ourselves back in the rhododendron forest that we had climbed through on the other side of the hill. Only on this side the trees were more impressive, huge gnarled and twisting branches stretched high above the path. Being a bit less tired and going downhill we could appreciate our surroundings a bit more. For two hours we walked down a beautiful path through the forest. As we got further down the valley was narrower and the lack of sunlight coming through at times made it seem more like a tropical jungle.


Just as we reached the end of the forest we were rewarded with a slightly closer view of 'Fish Tail' mountain than the one we had earlier that morning on Poon Hill.


As we left the forest behind we started to see more villages and cultivation with wonderful views down the green valley. We stopped for lunch in Ulleri, a fine vantage point and the last village before our destination for the day. The path now mostly consisted of steps, and we had the now familiar sight of flocks of goats and sheep being driven down the path presumably to be sold off at the bottom. To me those little black goats have a sort of Hammer horror satanic look about them. For those coming the other way there was a handy information board about what they might see at the top.



The rest of our route for the day took us down the steps, a bit monotonous but we only had about another hour's walk ahead of us following lunch. From above, the corrugated roofs of Tirkhedunga didn't look very attractive but once we crossed a couple of bridges and got into the village it seemed like a perfect place to stop, surrounded by running water and very lush vegetation. Looking down from the village we could see the last bit of walking that we would do the next day.


I spent a very peaceful afternoon on a terrace by the river in Tikhedunga with a book and a beer, only interrupted by the occasional herd of sheep and goats being forced through the narrow main street of the village. I didn't feel unhappy about getting near the end after two weeks of walking, but nor did I feel in any great hurry to return the bustle of the cities.

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Caipirinhas In The Rain

We managed to escape Madrid just before martial law was declared in Spain's airports and have spent an enjoyable 'puente de diciembre' week in Brazil. It started with a couple of days in Rio de Janeiro. This was my third time in the city and despite the reputation it has for violence and social problems I saw it looking better than the other times. Brazil has done quite well in recent years, thanks to having both generals and a greedy and corrupt right-wing excluded from government. Which is not to say it doesn't have serious problems still, the social divide in Rio is very evident where you can have luxury villas on one side of a street and a favela shanty town on the other.

There are now companies which organise tours of one of the biggest and well-established favelas, it's a trip well worth doing to get an insight into how much of the city's population lives. Another sign of Brazil's progress is the strength of its currency, it's an expensive place to visit at the moment. My first visit was at the end of the 1980's when hyperinflation was crushing living standards and banknotes supposedly bearing the value 100,000 were stamped with the number 100 in attempts to stabilise the currency without printing new money.

I'm something of a minor rain god and I often bring rainfall in impressive quantities to places that I visit. I ended Barcelona's drought a couple of years ago, and last year I even made it snow heavily there. Rio was no exception and on our last night before leaving there was a long and torrential thunderstorm that demonstrated how much they need good drainage on some of the streets. I think the only day it didn't rain was the day we left Brazil, which just proves my point.

After Rio we headed south and discovered another paradise island - Ilha Grande. Once the site of a prison and a quarantine centre for immigrants from Europe, this forest covered island is now mostly protected and is a wonderful low-key tourist destination. From there we headed to the small colonial town of Paraty, not a cheap destination and when I saw the price of our hotel the rain god bowed down in homage before the VISA god. It carried on raining but to the huge amusement of the waiters in the bars we were determined to celebrate our last night with a caipirinha in one of the outdoor terraces, umbrellas in hand to keep us more or less dry. It was warm rain.

The WikiLeaks Cables And Spain....Interfering With The Course Of Justice

It's not entirely satisfying, the way in which WikiLeaks have chosen to make their hoard of US diplomatic cables available. That a single newspaper should be controlling the release of the cables concerning Spain means that we are dependent on their timescales and priorities. We're not yet at the stage where crowdsourcing information has become part of the Spanish media scene, and El País is publishing information from the cables before any of the original documents are made available.

Nevertheless, there is some interesting stuff in the information that has so far been made available. The content of the released cables will come as something of a disappointment to those who faithfully believe in the independence of the judiciary. It seems that US diplomats in the Spanish capital have managed to cultivate some useful contacts inside the Spanish judicial system and have used these contacts to the full to try and get their way on any judicial process affecting US interests.

The most notable case in this respect has been that involving the death of Spanish television cameraman José Couso in Baghdad. Couso was killed by fire from a US army tank as the American troops advanced into Baghdad during the invasion if Iraq in April 2003. He was in a hotel full of journalists, and which the US army knew to be full of journalists. Not surprisingly the US investigation into the incident found that nothing wrong had been done, but a Spanish judicial investigation led to charges against 3 US soldiers.

The Spanish case is still going, which is nothing short of a miracle when you read the cables from the US embassy in Madrid and realise what forces are stacked against it. That the US government should oppose any attempt to prosecute its soldiers in another country is not news, but the cables reveal that the US has been able to count on key supporters both in Zapatero's administration and from the judicial system. The Spanish attorney general and one of the most senior prosecutors have had meetings with US diplomats where they assured the latter that they would do their best to kill off the Couso case. This could not be done too openly without causing a political storm, and the delightful phrase used in one of the cables is that they would find a way to "quietly terminate" the case.

The Couso case is not the only judicial process to have been affected by pressure from the US embassy. The threat of investigation over the Guantanamo prison camp and the flights run by the CIA has also had them talking to their friends in Spain. The cables published so far also provided an insight into the evolution of relations between the two countries, from the tense years when the US representative was a typical Bush political appointee to the smoother times under the Obama administration. Not that the change of government altered in any way the interference with Spain's judicial system.

It's interesting to note, given the timing of Interpol issuing a warrant for the arrest of the founder of Wikileaks, the attitude of the same organisation concerning the Couso case. Interpol have done all they can to wriggle out of getting involved in bringing the 3 accused soldiers before a court, citing a clause which doesn't allow them to become involved in political or military issues. Not that this clause prevented them, to pick one random example, from becoming heavily involved in the elaborate charade mounted around the death of FARC guerilla leader Raul Reyes. Still, I imagine their involvement in that case didn't count with the opposition of the US government.

From One Colonel To Another

Whilst we wait for the drip feed of revelations from the latest Wikileaks document release, we do have access to one of the cables sent from the US Embassy in Madrid. A curious story it is too, as it refers to the expulsion of a Libyan diplomat from Spain in 1986. The expulsion was apparently a reprisal for an attempt by a Spanish army colonel to obtain funds from the Libyan leader (and colonel) Muammar al-Gaddafi.

This being the 1980's there were still quite a few Spanish army officers around who saw their patriotic duty as consisting of the overthrow of any democratically elected government. The colonel in question, Carlos Meer de Ribera, was said to have had a meeting in Tripoli with the Libyan leader in an attempt to raise money for the far-right cause. Meer de Ribera, who appears to be the author of this blog, was the last civil governor of the Balearic Islands in Francoist times and was allegedly removed for being too right wing a couple of months after Franco's death. He also acted as defender of one of those officers accused of participating in the attempted coup of 23-F. Whilst exercising this latter role he was of course promoted.

The cable from the US embassy obviously doesn't regard financing of right wing extremism as being that serious an offence, why would they given that it was a fundamental part of US policy for so long? Even so, the expulsion of the diplomat took place at a time when trying to bomb Gaddafi's homes was a fashionable thing to be doing. Meer de Ribera was imprisoned and charged but I haven't been able to find anything that tells us the outcome of the process. The poor colonel in that story by Gabriel Garcia Marquez who waits for a pension that will never come was obviously just born in the wrong country.

Nepal, Annapurna Circuit....Poon Hill

We were supposed to be up at 4:30 to begin the climb up to Poon Hill. However, by 4 we were already awakened by the sound of others getting ready for what is supposed to be a spectacular moment on the Annapurna Circuit. Eating could wait, the plan for the day was to go up and down Poon Hill and then continue the Annapurna route after breakfast.

I put on my full 'Thorung La" gear, every bit of warm clothing for what was expected to be a bitterly cold morning. Outside the weather was actually a whole lot better than it had been on the day we went up Thorung La. Yes, it was cold, but the sky was clear and although the moon was far from full we could already distinguish the shapes of some of the mountains we hoped to see as it got lighter.

It's a walk of around 45 minutes from Ghorepani to the top of Poon Hill, all uphill of course and quite hard after the effort of the previous day. The climb is something over 300 metres. After 10 minutes I was already removing one outer layer of clothing from the effort. By 5:30 we were at the top, and the jacket I had removed was soon needed again. The sun was not yet up and once you stopped moving you quickly got cold.

The panorama you get at the the top of the hill should include the whole of the Dhaulagiri range, one side of the Annapurnas and a view of the distinctive peak of Machapuchare, commonly known for not very mysterious reasons as Fish Tail Mountain. This is a holy mountain and cannot be climbed, although I preferred the typo in a leaflet we saw in Kathmandu describing it as a 'scared' mountain. That explains why it kept its distance.

The hill was crowded, it clearly attracts many more people than those doing the Annapurna Circuit, and the cameras were busy. This being the ultimate tea-house trek, it only seemed fair that there was a small shack at the top selling tea. We walked round in circles trying to keep a bit warm as the first rays of sunlight bounced off the high peaks. We couldn't complain about the weather conditions on this side of the Annapurna range and as it got lighter the views got more spectacular.

Shortly after 6 it was fully light and the panorama compensated for the cold. Even so, by 6:45 we were satisfied and were on the track back to the hotel for breakfast. A hint for the lazy, I shouldn't really do this but if you are in a Ghorepani hotel facing in the right direction you can get more or less the same view as we had from the top of Poon Hill. But of course it's not the same without that pre-dawn climb and the chill in your bones.