Creeping Censorship in Greece

Have you ever heard of Yanis Varoufakis? I have to confess that until recently I certainly hadn't, but I'm glad that I've now found his blog. As a Greek economist, who can clearly see the fundamental flaws of the EU's response to the financial crisis, he provides an insightful analysis of why Europe is fighting a losing battle in shoring up Greek (and Irish and Portuguese and Spanish) debt, and in effect, underlines that we in Ireland are not crazy to question the bail-out - on the contrary, we are insane to go along with it. Additionally, reading his blog is a refreshing antidote to the suggestions emanating from northern Europe that Greece is in the position it is because of the inherent "fecklessness" or "irresponsibility" of its population - on the contrary, the citizens of Greece, like their counterparts in Ireland and indeed throughout the EU, are suffering because feckless or irresponsible investors are not being burned.

Varoufakis's latest blog post is quite disturbing, however, suggesting a creeping censorship developing in Greece that is attempting to hush up those who are suggesting that the EU and the Greek political elites are on a losing path. What is truly worrying, however, is that much of the subtle silencing of dissent that Varoufakis describes is already clearly practised in Ireland. Witness RTE's apology over a report on a jokey portrait of Biffo (understandably - why would the national broadcaster report on a protest against the government! Nothing to see here folks, move on), and we are well used to the media and government teaming up in serious group think (be it regarding the property boom, the banking guarantee, the need for Nama, or the Lisbon Treaty). The trouble is, in a crisis like this dissent is the most valuable commodity you can have. Only by considering every option can you truly decide what path is correct - and in such a time of extraordinary difficulty, the apparently maddest policy might actually turn out to be the best path forward. Don't forget, in 1940 "sane and sensible" voices were urging Britain to make peace with Germany - Churchill was seen as a warmonger for wanting to continue fighting.

Despite the many flaws Europeans see in the American system of government, one area in which the US beats Europe hands down is in freedom of speech. No matter how distasteful your views, whether you want to burn the Koran or protest against homosexuality at the funeral of fallen soldiers, you are allowed to do so. And the inherent competion in the US media ensures that no matter how crazy your beliefs, be they on the far-right or the far-left, you will be heard. Exposure to public opinion acts like natural selection for theories and beliefs - the weakest are killed off, while the strongest are recognised by wider society as having some merit. In Europe, we seem to be intent on developing a plan for dealing with the economic crisis via ideological creationism from on high - only it is very clear that the divine touch is clearly absent.

And for the Main Course, China Will Have - Ireland

China is now making its move to gain a foothold (both politically and commercially) in Europe by offering to buy Greek bonds. As Al Jazeera notes, the real benefit for China is not so much the acquisition of debt (although this will help shore up the Eurozone, an obvious market for Chinese exports), but rather the foothold it will give China in key European industries and facilities, such as ports and infrastructure. Not only will this potentially  provide yet more markets for Chinese firms that specialise in infrastructure development, it will also ensure China receives considerable political capital for its investment.

After Greece, I feel it is inevitable that China will look to Ireland - if not for economic opportunities (which are, as we sadly know, thin on the ground) then the immense political capital investment in Ireland offers. As with Greece, China has the opportunity to get into European infrastructure at low, low prices - but Ireland offers ports and airports much nearer the key European economies of France, Germany and the UK than Greece does.

More to the point, however, is what China stepping-in to save Ireland would say about China and its place in the world. Investing in a country like Greece, a non-English speaking economy with considerable socialist characteristics, is not a serious departure from China's existing investment efforts in Africa and Asia. All that is new is that the target of investment is in Europe. But investing in Ireland, an English-speaking nation smack bang in the Anglo-American axis, which for the last 10 years has been a poster-child for laissez-faire capitalism - that says China has arrived, and is now a force for the whole world (developed nations included) to reckon with. In effect, China will go from winning economically with a home team advantage (i.e. its spectacular domestic performance), to winning the away leg in front of hostile fans (gaining a global commercial presence).

It is, as I have said, inevitable - so how does Ireland handle it? Do we simply pretend like its not possible, or do we seize the Chinese opportunity with both hands. Are cash-rich shareholders with strategic vision such a bad thing?

And So It Begins.

Short post today, as I believe that quite soon Ireland will have no access to the Internet anyway. So what's the point? The flame of our independence is now flickering, sputtering in the darkness of our own incompetence and inability. Are we concerned? Apparently not, as the Irish media is primarily concerned with the Pope's visit to the UK, the remaining fallout from Portergate, and with the discovery of Radon in 600 Irish homes.

Meanwhile, the world media is also keeping its beady eye on Ireland, but they seem to have different interest to our local newshounds. They don't give a damn about Biffo anymore, having obviously deduced that he is not worthy of attention, and they care little for what the Pope's visit means for Ireland, or anywhere else for that matter. They do, however, care about the fact that the Government is on the cusp of calling the IMF in, and that our bond spreads have shot to over 6.3%.

If you look at the link above to the Irish 10 year bond price tracker, you will see, in the little graph at the top of the page, an analysis of the performance of Irish bonds over the last year (i.e. how much we are being charged for a loan). Two spikes are prominent - one in May, and one now. The one in May was caused by general concerns plaguing the Eurozone over the likelihood of a Greek default. The spike now, however, is all down to market sentiment regarding Ireland.

Simply put, the markets are as frightened now as they were in the midst of Greece's troubles (and the world can see that Greece is a basket-case) but this time, the terror driving our cost of borrowing is solely caused by the management of the Irish economy and banking sector, or lack thereof. We cannot blame this on foreigners - not the Greeks, not the Germans, not even the Brits.

We are about to see a homegrown crisis of Hellenic proportions.

I'm going to buy a shotgun, a tent, and some canned food over the weekend.

Weirdly prescient? Or just a really corny short story?

Last October I entered a short story competition ran by the Sunday Tribune, in conjunction with Dublin City Council, which was in honour of Bram Stoker. The aim was to begin a short story with a line from Dracula "His eyes blazed with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat." Below is my effort (shockingly, I didn't win. I'm sure you must be finding it difficult to contain your outrage at this injustice).

To be fair, while the writing is hammy and cliche-ridden, it was prescient, considering the events outside the Dail last week during the Right to Work protest . This week's protest passed peacefully, but will we see a repeat outpouring of the people's righteous anger next week? Or was the disturbance only a one-off minor kerfuffle caused by some bearded lefties with too much time on their hands? And will the Gardai remain loyal to the government, or will they begin to have their doubts too?

One Step Away

His eyes blazed with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat. I flicked up my shield, and through its clear plastic I saw his fingers jar painfully on the hard surface, while my other hand brought down the baton with a solid crack on his skull. The thud of metal on bone shocked me, even on this extraordinary day, and my gloved hand began to slide from the baton’s handle, as his blood slipped between my fingers.
The slightly balding, middle-aged man, dressed sensibly against the cold in a warm overcoat and wool jumper, collapsed heavily back into the mob, hands raised to his fatherly face. He mouthed a soft whimper, inaudible through the roar of the crowd, and then he was gone, his place filled now by another enraged bourgeois rioter; all their respectability washed away in this overwhelming tide of anger.
“Christ” I gasped, less a curse than a prayer for deliverance from my own brutality and the catastrophe I was watching unfold before me; the complete collapse of a nation, the dissolution of a society. To my left I sensed Pauli tense as yet another bottle swung through the air, arcing towards his shield, while Macker to my right heaved against the press of incensed bodies, trying to clear some small space for himself in this sea of rage.
Just a week ago, I would have addressed these people as “Sir” or “Madam” if I had stopped them on the street, now I was drumming them back with almost medieval violence. We were besieged by the most unlikely army; battalions of nurses, architects and IT engineers were hurling themselves against our line, trying to break through and scale the railings behind us. It would have been absurd, were it not for the underlying desperation that drove them; they knew that all was lost, they sought no compensation, no handouts; they merely wanted to hold someone to account, to savor one final, defiantly human act of justice.
Bobbing along the surface of the mob came a lamppost, long, thin metal driftwood in the sea of despair, and we steeled ourselves for its impact.

“Fall back lads!” I heard the Sergeant order from the rear, and our line folded in on itself, each guard slipping in turn through the gate behind us, backwards, always facing the mob, until we could slam the narrow metal door against the howling of the horde, and breathe deeply in this brief moment of relief, as the lamppost clattered impotently against the railings surrounding the gate.
Staring through the bars at the twisted faces and raised fists, I pondered the events of this past week, the week that had ruined my homeland. For months, we had survived with a half-million unemployed, their long lines of wasted ability and still-born opportunity streaming into the welfare offices. We had struggled on after the U.S. firms had pulled out, searching for profit in Poland ’s Limerick or China ’s Kildare. Somehow, we had even continued after the collapse of our banks, as one by one the Irish financial houses were crushed by the weight of their own lies.
Yet last week, the Europeans told us there was simply not enough to go round, someone in this ever-closer union would have to lose out. The final decision came down to a choice between saving Greece or saving us. Greece won.
We had dropped so far in the world’s eyes, first through our hubris and self-congratulation, and then through our chicanery and book-cooking, that we were considered more risky than a country that once had a junta, less commercially viable than a country where anarchists are part of the political mainstream.
And so Brussels pulled the plug; no more pay for our nurses and teachers, who were asked to be patriotic and work for free. We could not feed our prisoners, so the jails were emptied and the convicts let loose onto the streets. The hospitals went dark; the buses sat, decaying, in their stations; the desperate lines outside the embassies of the rich grew longer, as thousands hoped for escape in Australia , Canada or the U.S. And still, the government did nothing; they did not plan, they did not promise, and worst of all, they did not lead.
So it was inaction, rather than action, which had set flame to fuse, which had roused this righteous anger among the ordinarily meek, an anger which must be vented, must be sated by some small act of vengeance.
I stood behind those railings, watching my lovely city burn, seeing the crowd boil with rage, and wondered at what point would duty be overtaken by justice? When would I throw down my shield and join the ranks of the betrayed?