Tag Archives: Spain

Some Questions for a Catalan Independentist

In just over a week, many Catalan towns will hold ‘consultaions’ about Catalan independence. These consultations (consultes) take the form of a mock referendum. They’re not legally binding in any way, and voting in them is so open that even I can join in! The thing about these consultations is that they do make it feel (however superficially) like Catalonia is starting to seriously consider its status as part of Spain. The organisers and political groups involved are certainly keen to make it look like that, at any rate.

On this blog, I’ve been careful to avoid a categorical endorsement of Catalan independence for many reasons. So I decided to ask some open questions to anyone interested in answering them. And you don’t have to be in favour of Catalan independence to take part: if you think you’ve got a point to make, make it. I plan to do something similar directed at opponents of independence over the next few days. Feel free to answer whichever of the questions you like.

Some questions:

  1. Why should Catalonia be independent?
  2. What exactly do you think will be gained if Catalonia becomes independent?
  3. What model do you see an independent Catalonia adopting? Some sort of republic? How would it be organised?
  4. Do you think that the current crisis is a good time to decide something like this? Why?
  5. What damage do you think this would do to Spain? Do you worry about that?
  6. Is an independent Catalonia an economically viable state?
  7. What should the process be in the result of a vote in favour of independence?
  8. What should be the status of Spanish citizens in Catalonia? Would dual citizenship be allowed?
  9. What about immigrants? Would they become citizens? What would the immigration policy be?
  10. Would you expect all the political parties in Catalonia to break ties with their Spanish equivalents?
  11. What would happen if the EU had trouble accepting Catalonia as a member?
  12. What would happen to Catalan government agencies aimed at trade and business? Would they be absorbed by embassies?
  13. Who would be the head of state? Would you deny Juan Carlos’s claim to sovereignty?
  14. Would the Catalan constitution guarantee the right to receive state services in Castilian Spanish?
  15. How would you deal with people potentially wanting to leave for Spain proper?
  16. What flag would you have? Senyera or Estelada?
  17. What would happen to utilities like the phone/data system?
  18. What sort of rights would be included in the constitution anyway?
  19. How would you deal with other parts of the ‘Catalan Countries’? Would you seek their absorption?
  20. How important would the status of FC Barcelona be? Do you think the Spanish league would still have them?
  21. Would you bother with armed forces? If so, how?
  22. What would happen if there was a Spanish boycott of independent Catalonia?
  23. What would happen if there was a Spanish military response?
  24. Can a constituent part of an EU and NATO member even declare independence?
  25. Would you demand that companies trading in Catalonia establish separate entities in Catalonia? How?

And that’s enough for now. I know that I’ve asked a lot of questions. But these are just some of the questions that will be asked should Catalonia approach a genuine referendum.

So, what do you say?

In Support Of The True Fiesta Nacional

One of Spain’s greatest and oldest cultural traditions is in danger of dying out completely because of EU legislation. The European laws, designed to protect citizens’ ‘liberty’ were introduced without a moment’s thought about the impact they’d have on this crucial feature of Spanish culture. I am, of course, talking about Spain’s true Fiesta Nacional.

Ever since the 1st century BCE, Spaniards have enjoyed the spectacle of gladiators locked in combat, fighting until one (or ideally all) of them dies a heroic death. Indeed, recent evidence proves that a Spaniard was himself the very bravest of Rome’s gladiators – he killed a nasty emperor and temporarily saved the empire from something.

But all this is now under threat – because of a bunch of killjoy lawmakers obsessed by destroying Spanish culture. EU legislators introduced so called ‘human rights legislation’ many years ago, but it is these laws that might now be used to stop us from enjoying one of the great cultural pursuits this country has to offer. And the sad thing is that this could all be prevented if the do-gooders understood that live gladiator fights aren’t really about men killing each other for the enjoyment of a crowd of baying monsters. You see, gladiator fighting is about so much more than that.

For those who haven’t yet had a chance to enjoy the spectacle of a gladiator fight, I’m going to explain a little of what makes it so special. First of all, there’s the amphitheatre it’s held in: these grand stadia have their roots in Roman architecture and are designed so that wherever a viewer sits, they can see the action. Amphitheatres used to litter Spanish cities like discarded sunflower seed shells, but now only a few remain. It’s worth remembering that Barcelona had loads of the places, while Madrid (which didn’t exist when the Romans occupied Spain) had none. Why that’s worth remembering, I’m not sure… but remember it, OK?

Next up is the sense of ceremony that surrounds the whole event. The gladiators are held in a sort of pen just before they’re released into the arena, and when they appear in their beautiful costumes, you can almost believe you’re watching ballet rather than deadly combat. Actually, I’m not sure about that: ballet exists as a way of interpreting violence, passion and the human experience by way of dance. Gladiatorial combat interprets violence by way of goading men to murder each other. But it’s still quite full of movement, I suppose.

The deaths, while certainly not the focus of gladiatorial combat, are really cool! Some of the best gladiators can make a rival’s suffering defence last for up to an hour, drawing the process of killing their opponent (which is not the main focus of the fight at all) into what seems like a true fight between equals. Of course, the truth is that the professional gladiators always win because their competitors, dumb and useless beasts that they are, are often drugged, underfed and tortured prior to the main event. Well, you wouldn’t want the star to die, would you?! Anyway, the death isn’t even the most important bit.

The most important bit is… everything. Of course, everything is geared in a way that it climaxes in the death… but that doesn’t mean it’s just about killing. You can buy an ice cream from the little man who sells them… and if he stands in the way of a good killing, just tell him to get the fuck out of the way. Because the death, while not the most important bit, is a moment so wholly Spanish – so ancient and lovely – that you really shouldn’t miss it. Yes, the death is not the most important part of the gladiator fight. It’s the killing.

Oh and, before you bring it up, no we really don’t see the killing as cruel. I mean, most of these guys are losers and criminals anyway. Sure, they’re doomed to die terrified but imagine how they’d feel if they caught lung cancer from second hand smoke. That’d be a much worse way to go… so you see, they’re really the lucky ones.

Can we really afford to lose this ancient, lovely and cool spectacle? To me, it seems self-evident that gladiatorial combat is above silly modern notions like ‘humanity’ or ‘law’. Clearly, amendments should be made to this legislation to ensure that future generations can enjoy the killing with their own eyes? As has been pointed out, these fights exist: it’s up to the opponents of gladiators killing each other to prove why it’s suddenly wrong.

So, dear reader, I call on you to . Together, we can preserve barbarity in these perplexing times.

thebadPoll: what’s correct: Catalonia or Catalunya… or Cataluña?

This new poll is borne from a post I read today at Jeremy Holland’s From Barcelona blog. But it’s also, I must admit, something I’ve probably grumbled about before.

Among the people writing about Catalonia in English, there seems to be little consensus as to what we call the place. I always use the English form ‘Catalonia’, Jeremy uses the Catalan ‘Catalunya’, Graeme at South of Watford uses the Spanish ‘Cataluña’… doubtless someone out there (Trevor?) uses the archaic ‘Cathalunya’.

My reasons for using the English form are fairly simple: firstly, consistency. In my guise as a sort-of-managing-editor, I spend plenty of time making sure that everyone writing for our website writes as consistently as possible. That is, we have a house style which should always be applied. So we write in American English, generally try to avoid jargon – sometimes a difficult task when writing about technology, and use the same naming conventions when referring to organisations, places or people. The idea of consistency in such writing is that a reader should never have to trouble themselves as to why we’re suddenly using a different word to describe something. I use ‘Catalonia’, ‘Spain’ and ‘Seville’ because I’m attempting to maintain some sense of consistency in the way I write (though a quick search shows that I have used ‘Sevilla’ a few times!). I feel that the majority of news organisations and works of reference would agree with me when I say that as a rule, toponyms ought to be written in the same language as the rest of the article.

The second reason I prefer the English form of the name is that when I’m writing in English, I’ll use an English word wherever possible. This has nothing to do with any kind of linguistic conservatism: though my ‘trade’ involves the constant use of English, I’m the first to proclaim that one of its great strengths is the lack of an Academy that protects it from foreign influence. I do, however, broadly agree with George Orwell’s Six Rules for clear political writing. As far as I’m concerned, ‘Catalonia’ is a perfectly decent English word that has been in use for hundreds of years and, like ‘Spain’ does the job admirably well. So why opt for the Catalan version? To me, it sounds like an affectation, particularly when this exception – this break in consistency – is applied only to ‘Catalunya’, and not to ‘Spain’.

Jeremy makes a couple of points when explaining why he prefers the Catalan form. He’s right to say that using ‘Catalunya’ hardly makes a piece of writing harder to understand. Pretty much anyone reading either of our blogs would be perfectly comfortable with the Catalan toponym. He also talks about the fluidity of English and its willingness to absorb words from other languages and cultures – something I mentioned above. But he does rather cloud the issue I thought we were talking about: whether there’s a correct way to name the place in English. He also introduces something of a red herring: street names and people’s names. To me, calling Joan, ‘John’ is incorrect… and calling the Plaça de Catalunya ‘Catalonia Square’ just aren’t the same thing as calling Catalunya, Catalonia.

But I may be wrong. Jeremy has promised that he’ll change and start using the English form if that’s what most Catalans say they prefer. I’m not going to change the naming conventions I use, no matter what you say. But I am interested in hearing what you think. So the question is: when writing in English, what’s the correct way to refer to the place? Catalonia, Catalunya, Cataluña, or something else entirely? As always, vote early & often to the right >>>

13D: Some of Catalonia votes for independence tomorrow

This weekend, 700,000 people in Catalonia are eligible to vote in the region’s first ever referendum on independence from Spain.

Or at least, that’s how the BBC has it. Tomorrow will be interesting because the turnout will give everyone an idea of how far CUP, ERC and even CiU can run with independence as a vote winner. But Barcelona and the more ‘Spanish’ suburbs (like Cerdanyola) aren’t taking part. As I’ve pointed out elsewhere: we all know that if it were up to Vic, Catalonia would have declared independence years ago.

I’ll be watching tomorrow’s results with some interest. But I’d rather they had a proper vote, and we could all be done with it.

My spicy Mediterranean lamb stew recipe

So in a month, Christmas will already be gone and New Year’s Eve will be looming over us. Tonight we have El Clásico, it’s getting dark early and it’s pretty cool outside. In other words, today’s the perfect day for my spicy Mediterranean lamb stew: a warming, filling classic that’s perfect for late autumn. I’m no Keith Floyd but I’d bet anyone who,likes lamb and spicy stuff would love this. It’s a bit of a mishmash of different bits and bobs. It’s probably not as good as a proper caldereta Manchega (a dish so good, it seems to be banned from restaurants), but paired with a bit of mash or even half a baguette, it’s a spicy-yet-rural heart warmer.

What you need for the recipe:

500g lamb neck (this recipe is perfect for the stronger-tasting lamb we normally get here in Spain. Bulkier, milder Devon or Welsh lamb is delicious but better for roasting, in my opinion)
1 onion
1 large red pepper
Some white wine (1/2 a bottle – I used cheap 2005 Raimat Chardonnay)
The best golden-coloured olive oil you can afford (I use Veá extra virgin olive oil from Lleida. It’s utterly exquisite.)
400g cooked chickpeas (in a jar, normally)
2 cans of chopped tomatoes
2 small red chili peppers
Salt, pepper and bay leaves
About 2 hours

How to make it:

Chop up the meat, onion, pepper and chilli. Heat a generous portion of delicious golden olive oil in a decent, heavy-based saucepan or casserole and throw the lamb into it. Seal the lamb and then take it out of the pan with one of those spoons with holes in. Put it in a bowl so you don’t lose precious juices.

You may need to add a drop more of your terrifyingly expensive oil here. That’s fine: never be afraid of using a bit more oil. Now throw the onion in, fry it then after a few minutes chuck the pepper and chili in too. Fry them all together for a few minutes. Season them a bit too. Then put the lamb (and any juices) back, adding two bay leaves and a splash of Worcestershire sauce. Stir it up.

Next, pour in about 1/3 to 1/2 of a bottle of white wine. Keep the heat high. Reduce the wine for about 15 minutes or so. Pour yourself and your partner/friends a glass at the same time: you must use wine you’d be able to drink normally, so here’s your chance to prove that you’re not cheating.

Now you add the canned chopped tomatoes (you could use fresh: I do for bolognese but Can Rot-Xardá brand tomatoes are v. good – just stay away from supermarket own-brand crap). Give it all a good stir, cook on a high heat for about 5 min and then reduce heat, cover and simmer for approx 1 hour. Stir it from time to time if you like.

After 1 hour, add the drained (but not washed) chickpeas. Cook for another hour (you could reduce this to 30 min without losing too much quality).

Serve with aforementioned mashed potatoes, parsnips, peas, baguette, rice or whatever you have lying around that needs finishing. A decent red wine will accompany it well. Força Barça!

thebadPoll: Working in Spain

This poll was inspired by a brief conversation I had with a couple of other expats over at another website. The discussion started as a debate about January 6th being made a ‘new public holiday’ – which made little sense to me as Magic Kings’ day already was a holiday.

A generally held view seems to be that the last thing Spain needs is more public holidays, but I couldn’t quite establish whether the people who were espousing this POV were themselves employed in Spain, or whether they simply wanted to be able to go shopping whenever they wanted and sod the workers.

So what do you think? Do you work in Spain? How does your company treat you? Has Spain caught up with the UK in terms of worker exploitation modern labour practices? Is Spain a good place to work? As usual, you can select one answer from the list on the right >>> but it’s your comments that I’m most interested in.

Statistics of corruption in Spain

Franco’s Little Helper* over at Kalebeul has an amusingly perverse analysis of how the two major political parties in Spain account for most of the local corruption investigations here. The great thing about proposing a new statistical analysis is that feeling of deciding the size of the goal. And where it will be placed.

*I’m sure Trevor won’t mind me calling him that, given that he’s an avowed supporter of the ultra-nationalist UPyD.

Are Spanish banks in trouble?

I’ll be honest: except for Marxist theories about capital and exploitation, I generally eschew any discussion that covers banking and that huge, murky industry known as ‘finance’. This is a weakness on my part, I’m sure: a true socialist should be well versed in the movements of capital and cash. And much as I hold the FT to have some of the best reporting about Spain that you’ll find in the British press, I find it difficult to understand what its market journalists are writing about.

So it was with some dread and awe that I read this blog post concerning the state of Spain’s two largest banks, Santander and BBVA.

Apparently, it’s pretty obvious that these two large banks are hiding massive liabilities which, if suddenly exposed, could cause the Spanish economy to collapse. Ignore the bullshit on that blog about ‘racial pressures’ and you still have a coherent case that decries the secrecy behind the apparent miracle of Spain’s two massive banking success stories. And it makes sense: how could it be that these banks could be 100% safe when their American and British counterparts have received billions of Euros in bailouts?

I therefore invite finance-minded readers of this blog to tell me just how precarious our situation here really is. Are we fucked? And if so, to what degree?

Spanish corruption news round-up

I’ve been off work for a few days due to a wicked cold, which has left me thinking that probably the last thing I need to do is spend more time in front of my computer. But all the same, there are a couple of stories developing in Spain which deserve something of a recap.

Firstly, Gürtel. This case of corruption in the Valencian PP has moved on quite a lot since the courts ruled that it was unlawful to ‘archive’ the case. The PP itself has moved from dogged support for anyone and everyone connected with the party to a few pre-emptive and yet also belated amputations. Top of the list is Ricardo Costa, general secretary of the Valencian PP. President of the Comunitat Valenciana Fracisco Camps seems to have had his hand forced by PP head office and has announced that Costa will be out in a few days, all the while noting that he trusts and backs him implicitly. This is the first major head to roll in the PP but it likely won’t be the last. Esperanza Aguirre, president of the Comunidad de Madrid has also forced the exclusion of three regional PP names, Alberto López Viejo, Alfonso Bosch Tejedor and Benjamín Martín Vasco – all linked with the Gürtel case.

Aguirre, suave political operator that she is, seems to be using this corruption case to make another push for control of the party. It remains to be seen how successful she is in this enterprise… but the idea of her leading the national party is slowly becoming a terrifyingly real possibility.

I wouldn’t want to incur the wrath of Trevor by failing to mention the Palau de la Música Catalana case, here in Barcelona. This story, though nowhere near as politically damaging as the Gürtel case, is still serious enough to warrant a proper full-length blog post some time in the future. Essentially, the PMC case is a classic story of misuse of public funds (aka ‘stealing a shit load of cash’). Boss of the Orfeó Catalan, Felix Millet, has more-or-less admitted that more than €3m of Palau funds went missing under his stewardship. He seems to have spent the money on himself (and his business partner Jordi Montull). It seems that among other things, the pair used some of the money to buy a building which they then sold on at a €1.5m profit.

The larger crime in the PMC case is that the bill for refurbishing the Palau a few years back was a massive €22m, even though it actually cost less than half that. So Millet seems to be willing to admit the ‘smaller’ crime in the hope that everyone will just forget about the other €13m that he nicked. Sadly, this could just happen: this case should have been in the courts years ago but for some reason only seems to have made it there now.

The political sides of this story are twofold: firstly, Millet is a big player in Barcelona’s political-cultural axis. The position of head of the Orfeó/Palau is extremely prestigious and Millet also served on the board of FC Barcelona and was a recipient of the Generalitat’s St Jordi cross. All that, and he seems to have donated about €500,000 to the Fundació Trías Fargas, a politico-cultural organisation which is effectively a part of the CDC, which itself is a constituent party in CiU.

The second controversy (and arguably by far the more important one) is that the courts in Barcelona received notice of presumed corruption, lots of €500 notes and various irregularities in the Palau, five years ago. It seems that they’ve done very little to prosecute the case since then, until now. Why? I suppose that would be the corruption.

The PP’s persecution complex

It’s the biggest political scandal in Spain for years. Numerous activists, officials, elected representatives and friends of the Partido Popular appear to be linked to a corruption case known as Gürtel. Centred on the PP in the Comunitat Valenciana, the case involves TV station managers, tailors, mayors and even the Valencian president, Francisco Camps. The accused are alleged to have taken and/or paid bribes in order to obtain public contracts for friendly companies. The most famous accusation is that Camps received €5,000 worth of suits as a gift, paid for by the company Orange Market, which ended up receiving various works contracts from the Valencian government. For background and also a lot more detail on the case, see South of Watford where Graeme has written plenty of posts about it.

Today’s Público carries the story that PP leader Mariano Rajoy yesterday claimed that “Since 2004, no PP militante [activist/party member] has been convicted… and there are several, later let off by the government, from the PSOE who were charged”. He was being questioned about the allegations that just won’t go away. What Público finds unusual about Rajoy’s rigorous defence of his party’s integrity is his less than rigorous memory of the last five years. The newspaper points out that he’s forgetting a minimum of 41 names – 41 PP activists who have been convicted of corruption or connected crimes. Now, I’m not very good with names either, so I understand his difficulty. I guess he’ll thank Público later for jogging his memory.

Denial has been a mainstay of the PP’s defence over the last few months. There’s nothing unusual about that. Few political parties, faced with a devastating series of accusations, would react differently. Though it saddens me, this seems to have become one of the primary functions of a political party (though I shouldn’t think it’s a recent a development as all that). The second defence the PP has employed – and it’s one that seems to be growing in popularity within the party – is that of political persecution. The PP has been quietly hinting from the rooftops that the Socialist government might be pursuing these corruption allegations for purely political reasons.

And it was in this spirit that PP publicity officer Esteban González Pons yesterday claimed that PP officials – even senior ‘big beasts’ like Rajoy and Aguirre – feel that they’re “being spied on”, that they have to “speak in codes on the phone” and that they “are certain” that there is a “black hand” which is politically influencing the courts and the police. It’s an old trick, of course: if you can’t win court cases fairly (and let’s face it, unless one of the judges is a mate, they don’t seem to be doing too well), you claim that the court is illegitimate. The PP are going a little further and seem to be saying that the entire justice system in Spain is illegitimate: González added this heart-rending appeal: “We’ve lived through a year during which the PP has been treated in a way that no other party has been treated since the Transition*. The government has persecuted us and has used the police and the courts to discredit our officials”.

I guess that means that pretty much anything any PP militante does is OK. Because in a country where the courts are controlled politically, there can be no justice, and no crime, right?

____

*There was no ‘Dictatorship’ only 40 blank years and then a ‘Transition’. Please amend your history books in accordance with this new decree.