PVV (Geert Wilders‘ Party) is the big winner. JP Balkenende is now definitely out. His CDA took a fair beating. As did the Socialist Party. D66 (from 3 to 10) makes a nice comeback, GreenLeft could be a factor of some importance when it’s time to form a government coalition (possibly purple). Turn-out is estimated at 74%.
Rita Verdonk’s Party Trots op Nederland (Proud of Holland) did not make the cut. Populism doesn’t seem to work for everybody. Do check out the linked vid with English subs for some Dutch right-wing Zeitgeist.
Nice fait divers for expats like myself (hat tip Sargasso). Half a million Dutchies living abroad have the right to vote (representing about eight seats in Parliament). This year 46,396 of them registered to vote. One of their main worries? Finding a red pencil…
Wilders on tv (earlier this evening): “As the country’s third party we cannot be excluded, we want to govern.” Is willing to compromise in order to be able to govern.
03.26 am Mark Rutte (VVD) on tv calling it, tentatively, for the VVD. Lauds JP Balkenende. Keywords: Economic recovery, security, immigration. Believes he is the obvious candidate for Prime Minister.
Live commentary (in Dutch) and footage can be found here.
Here is a link with election updates. Just choose the number 443 and press “gaan” (go).
Situation as of Thursday 03.38 am with 96.5% of the votes counted:
VVD 31 (conservative-liberal, up from 22 in 2006) PvdA 30 (labour/social-democrats) PVV 24 (Geert Wilders’ Party, up from 9) CDA 21 (Christian-democrats, down from 41 and now behind PVV!) SP 15 (Socialist Party, down from 25) D66 10 (social-liberal up from 3) GL 10 (green left) CU 5 (christian union) SGP 2 (christian party striving for theocracy) PvdD 2 (party for the animals)
Calling it a night. PVV, VVD and D66 win big, CDA en SP lose big. Mark Rutte will probably become the first liberal Dutch PM in modern history.
By some wonderful magic, all media reports of an event tend to go with the same storyline, often kind of off. The storyline after the elections was “The right and anti-immigrant parties win big.”
Figuring out if it was accurate took some work, because some parties, for example the Tories and the Italian Democratic Party, plan to change caucuses and the official results site counts them as unattached. I had to do a lot of very tedious counting and adding up to make this post, the kind of thing journalists need us bloggers to do. I’ve assigned most nominally unattached parties to a group. This is based on known plans plus a few educated guesses, but the guesses mostly involve tiny parties.
As it turns out, PES+greens+commie parties will go from a combined 38, 3% of seats in 2004 to 36,2%.
If we count the liberals (reasonable-ish in the Parliament context), the present mainstream right went from a combined 55,0% of seats to 56,2%.
By my count, 2% of the old parliament’s non-inscrits were extreme nationalists, and 3,1% of the new parliament’s.
Results by group:
EPP-ED+UEN parties (including the Tories and ODS and Law) 44,2% of seats. (42,3% in the old parliament)
Counting them separately is pointless since they’re about to merge and split. This process of musical chairs tend to happen after every election.
* ALDE/ADLE: 10,9%. (12,6%).
They’re the liberal group (well, basically). The members parties mostly line up as center-right domestically, but some are center-left or just vaguely centrist.
* PES 25,2% (27, 6%)
Worse than it seems, because all parts of Italy’s Democratic Party, which didn’t exist in 04 is included in my count.
*Greens/EFA 7,1% (5,5%)
Impressive considering the many countries with no green representation
*GUE/NGL 4,5% (5,2%)
This is the far left
ID, the eurosceptic group went from 2, 8% to 2, 6%
So the storyline’s not flat wrong, but the changes aren’t very dramatic.
“Look, Doctor, he’s just faking……. Even now in the hour of his death he has to trick us.”
The opening sentence: â€˜There’s a long silence, and then I say â€¦â€™ indicates the three functions of this book. It is an attempt to find a self through utterance, after a lifetime of non-communication; this was prompted by the wish to break a writer’s block and involves a search for a discursive mode in the psychoanalytic situation, the so-called â€˜talking cureâ€™ in which one participant often remains silent.
Upon reading Carlos Fuentesâ€™s novel La muerte de Artemio Cruz (1962) for the first time, many readers find themselves confused, frustrated, and even lost, due to its complex narrative structure.
‘As far as I am concerned, this is … the most complex crisis we’ve ever seen due to the number of factors in play’
Spanish Economy Minister Pedro Solbes speaking last week to Spanish radio station Punto Radio
Quod erat demonstrandum as far as I’m concerned on that account (and if you don’t agree with me please feel free to go over and post whatever comment you like). No, here I am speaking to those people – and especially Spanish people and other South Europeans who may understand all this much more than North European will do – who recognise that there is a problem, and a big one down here in the eurozone’s fourth economy (who the hell just blew that hole in the side of the ship!), and who are trying like I am to understand how we got here, and how we seem to be so incapable of reacting and rising to the challenge of the moment.
Now If this seems like a rant, I assure you it really isn’t meant to be one. It is simply an expression of frustration at the kind of blind trust in fate that seems to grip all of those I see around me at the moment (“they must know really what is going on, mustn’t they”). As an Italian reader to my Italy blog said after another rant-type comment, “I love Italy, I really do. If I didn’t, I would not waste my time on this.” Well, I am Catalan. I couldn’t exactly say – keeping a straight face – that I *love* Spain, but what happens to Spain does matter to me, and as my Italian commenter friend said, I wouldn’t be writing all this if it didn’t.
The Death of Artemio Cruz is an everyday story of love and lust in Mexico, a tale, as they would say down in that part of the world of “chingones y chingados “. Now it is widely accepted among critics of the Fuentes’ novel that our hero Artemio serves as the personification of a whole country, and what I wish to do in my “reincarnation” of the character of Artemio Cruz in the form of Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero – the president locked “a cal y canto” behind the tightly closed doors of his Montcloa palace (blindado contra la realidad would be the expression that came to mind, rather like Aznar cruising round in his limousine, obsessed by ETA while quietly neglecting the real and present threat of Islamic Fundamentalist Terrorism) – is raise the issue about what it is exactly in Spanish culture which leads to flight and denial as the first reaction to any impending unpleasant event. I mean it wasn’t as if this was the first time. There is no need to mention I think what happened after 11 March and then there was that nasty little incident of the Prestige Oil Tanker – during which the tanker was quietly towed out to sea in the vain hope it would reach Portuguese waters before the problem became too evident – oil sir, I see no oil. What was it we said then? Oh yes, nunca mÃ¡is!
Well the problem seems to be a perennial one, and it’s high time it was addressed.
The Death of Artemio Cruz is a novel where the broad sweep of 20th century Mexican history is viewed through the prism of one man’s life. Cruz starts out as an idealistic young soldier fighting in a Mexican Revolution which is dedicated to the redistribution of land and an attempt to give the peasants a decent life. By 1919, the successful revolution has deteriorated into a series of confusing and bloody skirmishes between rival rebel factions that never truly end until 1942. There, but for the grace of god, go all of us.
I learnt in sociology class that the south of Europe is a collective society and the north individualistic, but I think it’s the opposite!
Young Portuguese economist friend of mine who currently works in London
“The truly annoying Italian habit of only taking care of one’s own clan will deter any meaningful resistance to a country downsize.” Italian Commenter on my blog
Now the start of the novel finds an elderly Artemio lying awake on his deathbed, gripped by repeated spasms of excruciating pain, and terrified to open his eyes for fear of what it is he might get to see if he does. After years of debauchery and loose living (shade’s of Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray here) the thing which seems to frighten him the most is the possibility he might get to take a look at himself in a mirror. Of course, there are comparisons and comparisons here. Spain’s economy is far from moribund, nor is it in its death throes. But Spaniards are suffering, and the process of adjustment is painful, and if something isn’t done soon the problem might well get a hell of a lot worse.
Of course it’s easy to criticise here, since the problems Zapatero is reluctant to look too closely at are serious ones, and worse still, it isn’t at all clear that anyone really knows what to do about them at this point. But why the hell doesn’t the man come out of what looks to everyone else to be a “dream”?
Will The Last One To Close Please Turn Out The Lights, I Can’t Find The Switch
Meanwhile we learn from Jose Luis Malo de Molina, director general at the Bank of Spain (speaking at a recent conference in Valencia) that the number of new homes which will be completed in Spain in 2008 will beat all previous records (I said this was a system which was slow to react), simply piling one more house after another in order to add to that glut of newly completed homes that is already idly languishing and casting its long shadow over the Spanish property market. MuÃ±oz’s explanation for this phenomenon is simply that â€œthe real estate sector canâ€™t turn around quickly, it works in the medium and long term, so this year the properties started at the end of 2005 and beginning of 2006 will be completed, which means the number of new properties on the market will hit an all time high.â€ As I say, “just in time” may be an idea that has entered the heads of the more agile companies like the textile consortium Inditex, but most of Spain is a very, very long way from being able to offer an agile response. On the anecdotal front, a friend of mine recently went to visit family homes in the North West of Spain. In Vigo he spoke to the owner of a brick factory, and in Leon someone who had a quarry. In both cases production was continuing (there is simply no on/off switch here) but the inventory already had piled up to the extent of being now prepared to satisfy normal requirements for the whole of 2009 (in both cases), and of course, in 2009 requirements will not be normal, since housing starts in 2008 have collapsed to a forecast of below 200,000 (down from 600,000 plus in 2007).
Fuentes devotes two entire pages of his novel to such phrases, all of them derivatives of chingar – the word that – according to Octavio Paz in El laberinto de la soledad – best defines all Mexicans. I will not descend here to making my own listing of the various Spanish derivations of “joder” (nor even make the most obvious allusion to that ubiquitous warcry of the Cacique, que se……), but the similarity is indeed striking, even if the modern Spaniard treats his status of “jodido” in a rather more self-mocking and ironic fashion than the Mexican does – as best depicted recently by the dignified rout of the Spanish Tercio rabble at the hands of those ever so elegant French Hussars in the wonderful closing scene of DÃaz Yanes’s Alatriste.
On the operating table, the surgeons open Artemio Cruz up only to find that his disease is too advanced for them to help. He has gangrene and a perforation, eaten away from the inside. He dies on the operating table.
So I will close this post as I commenced it, with yet another reference to the magical world of Latin American literature. This time my reference will be to Jose Luis Borges, who – in a rather original and creative allusion to what is known as the prisoners dilemma – tells us the story of two villainous rascals, eternal rivals, who – under sentence of death – are offered one last wager: rather than forlornly accepting their fate (cap cot) and acceding to a conventional execution they can go gloriously, by agreeing to have their throats slit, not one by one but simultaneously, just to see who is able to run the farthest after the first cut. Immortality, rather than fame, in an instant.
Now I mention this rather gory since tale I can readily anticipate the feelings many will have on reading my proposals to cauterize the immediate wound and stop the now impending haemorage of blood – I am at the end of the day arguing that it is necessary to inject money – and I do mean rather a lot of money – into a banking and construction system which many will want to argue is largely responsible for Spain’s present distress (you know, the chingones and the chingados). Indeed, having made a good deal of money out of the operation, many will feel that these are the very people who should now be forced to don that sackcloth and ashes costume which so behoves them (actually the way things stand they are much more likely to find themselves reduced to a sporting a loincloth, but still). I understand why many ordinary Spanish people may have such feeling, but I do think this is a time for cool heads, and that what is most needed here is an extreme dose of pragmatism coupled with a lot of emotional intelligence. There is no point in agreeing to have your own throat slit just to see people you don’t like have their’s slit first.
As Italians head to the polls this weekend in order to pick what will be their 62nd government in 65 years (in an election which is being held three years early to boot, due to the collapse of Romano Prodi’s outgoing administration) one odd detail seems to stand out and sum up the multitude of political and economic woes which confront Italy at the present time: we still don’t have economic growth figures for the last quarter of 2007. Now this situation may well be an entirely fortuitous one – Italy’s national statistics office ISTAT are in the process of introducing a new methodology to bring their data into line with current EU standards as employed in other countries (Italy yet one more time is at the end of the line here, but let’s not get bogged down on this detail) – but there does seem to be something deeply symbolic about all this, especially since Italy may well currently be in recession, and may well be the first eurozone country to have fallen into recession since the outbreak of the global financial turmoil of August 2007.
Perhaps the other salient detail on this election weekend is the news this (Saturday) morning that “national champion” airline Alitalia is near to collapse and may have its license to fly revoked, at least this is the view of Vito Riggio, president of Italy’s civil aviation authority, as reported in Corriere della Sera.
“If something isn’t done soon, everyone must realize that Alitalia is on its last legs…. The authority will have no choice but to revoke the airline’s license “in two, maximum three weeks if it can’t show it can find cash to stay in business”
And – as if to add insult to injury – only this week the IMF revised down yet one more time their 2008 forecast for Italian GDP growth, on this occasion to a mere 0.3% , and (as we will see below) a steadily accumulating body of data now clearly suggest that Italy is already in recession, and may well have entered recession sometime during the last quarter of 2007. If confirmed this will mean that Italy will have been in-and-out of four recessions in last five years. So the real question we should be asking ourselves is not be whether Italy is in a recession, but when in fact she entered it, and even more to the point, when will she leave? Continue reading →