Here is a short film a made a two and a half years ago when the credit crisis, or as it was referred to at the time ‘the current period of economic readjustment’ started. Within months things seemed to get better, and I thought that I had been rather too pessimistic. Well, apparently I wasn’t. In the true spirit of Christmas I should like to share it with the world. Enjoy (as they say in trendy bars).
NB The first version of this film used Steely Dan's version of East St. Louis Toodle-Oo, but the You Tube software wouldn’t let me use it and the film with the original soundtrack was deleted within a few days. But I then managed to find Duke Ellington’s original version and that is the one used here. That explains the otherwise pointless reference to Walter Becker and Donald Fagen.
There are more films by the incredibly, unbelievably, superlatively, breathtakingly and magnificently talented filmmaker Jacques Pernod available here. I suggest you view Thelonius Watches Paint Dry and Indolence as a way into appreciating his unique vision. Once you have accustomed yourself to his dystopian yet life-affirming style, you could attempt Significance (Or An Evening With Rob).
. . .
Oscar Wilde once wrote that ‘sentimentality is a bank holiday from cynicism’. Better known is the dictum attributed to Wilde that ‘a cynic knows the price of everything and the value of nothing’, but it was not what Wilde wrote, in fact. It is a paraphrase from a line in his play Lady Windermere’s Fan, and it was not original. Someone else said it first, but I can’t remember who and I can’t be bothered at this point to try to find out. Anyway, I prefer the first because for me it sums up so much in the world. It helps explain how at Christmas the Nazis were able to hold carol services for the staff at their concentration camps and get dewy-eyed about it all while all around them the killing and other horrors continued. It also explains one facet of the character of many journalists. Thet can, as a rule, cynically treat ‘civilians’ - that is everyone who is not, like them, lucky enough to be a journalist - appallingly, all in the spurious interests of ‘the public’s right to know’. But they reserve their sentimental molly-coddling for their own and will weep in public profusely at the death of a colleague. Thus, the ‘serious’ papers in the UK and the US have been printing fulsome tributes to one Christopher Hitchens and not stinting themselves in their praise. I doubt that the ordinary chap in the street had ever heard of him, but they have now and with his death a few days ago, Hitchens has already been lined up as one of the ‘greats’ in the pantheon of hacks and associated rogues.
Hitchens could most certainly write well and was also master of an entertaining and acerbic turn of phrase, and although I have not read a lot by him, I must concede that and acknowledge his gift for having himself marked out as the man who will not flinch from saying the unsayable. One of his better known achievements is to put the boot into Mother Theresa, which will not have gone down well with those who regard the woman as third in command after Jesus Christ and his mum. But as far as I am concerned whatever those achievements, they are all overshadowed by two things about his life: he was one of that curious kind who starts his or her political life on the extreme left - Hitchens traded as a Trotskyite for many years - but at some point doesn’t just drift as rush to the right. Then there is the fact, which should disconcert those now canonising the man but doesn’t seem to in the slightest, that not only did Hitchens support the invasion of Iraq by Britain and America, he became something of an apologist for those fuckwits who surrounded and manipulated George Dubya and who gloried in the name Neo-Cons.
I find it very hard indeed to take seriously anyone who can make such an intellectual journey without apparently batting an eyelid. John Maynard Keynes once said that ‘when the facts change, I change my mind’, but it is simply inconceivable that the facts changed so radically that Hitchens decided that his radical Trotskyism was a crock of shit and that those nasty chaps on the right might not be quite as nasty after all. His brother Peter (who now writes for the Mail on Sunday) and the writer and historian Paul Johnson (who once edited the New Statesman) did the same. I simply cannot take them seriously. I once read a bizzare piece (in the Guardian - where else?) but Martin Amis in which he almost had orgasms over Hitchens’ ‘wit’. I can’t give you a link to it because the Guardian’s copyright on the aritcle has lapsed, but it was headlined ‘Amis on Hitchens: ‘He’s one of the most terrifying rhetoricians the world has seen’. The use of ‘terrifying’ to describe what kind of rhetorician Hitchens apparently was should give you a clue as to the kind of self-regarding cack Amis’s piece was. And indication of just how incestuous the world of literary luvviedom is can be found here http://www.martinamisweb.com/affinities.shtml (Amis on Saul Bellow, Hitchens on Amis, McEwan on Amis, Amis on Hitchens, God on Amis - that kind of thing).
It is not that Hitchens changed his views as he grew older. Many do that, and although the usual drift is to the right of centre
I don’t doubt that his friends and family loved Hitchens and will miss him, but that doesn’t oblige me to join in the hooraying. I don’t deny that, as many have testified, he was very good company, could be relied upon professionally and could hold his booze. For me Hitchens is just another ‘left’ radical who threw it all up and became a ‘right’ radical. And as someone commented at the end of Francis Wheen’s memoir in the Daily Telegraph: ‘For someone who didn’t believe in RIPs, why the RIPs?’
Wednesday 21 December 2011
Friday 16 December 2011
Putin rejects the Blair approach and goes for blood, while Merkel, Sarkozy, Van Rompuy, Barroso and the rest of the EUwits make a special plea to Santa
A few days ago after reading the news that an estimated 50,000 had turned out in Moscow to protest against the latest election results and to call Vladimir Putin names, I sagely turned to a colleague at work and predicted that Putin’s strategy would be this: he would adopt that tried and tested standby of beating his breast publicly and asking for the public’s forgiveness. In essence he would say: ‘I am your man and I am the man to lead Mother Russia, but I have been guilty of not listening to you and for that I am truly sorry. From now on I shall listen to you and consult you when I take decisions on your behalf.’ That line - sincere contrition - has worked a treat for many in the past and Tony Blair often resorted to it and when he still had that boyish grin he got away with murder, and in rather less grand circumstances, I have used it myself although I like to think I am not half as smarmy as Blair. It works so well because the person or group addressed feels flattered by the apology and is also somewhat disarmed: it is harder to be angry with a contrite man than one who insists on outright confrontation. That is what this wise old owl told his colleague.
As it turns out, I was completely wrong (which only goes to show the Vlad the Lad is a rather cannier politico than I could ever hope to be). Vlad obviously calculated that the best form of defence was attack and in a four and a half hour programme of responding to the public’s phone-on questions let rip on all fronts. The protesters, he assured a grateful Russian public, were put up to it by the U.S. That is pretty unlikely, of course, but most certainly what a great number of Russians wanted to hear.
He also suggested that web cameras should be set up in polling stations - I hope he meant polling stations, not polling booths - but I’m not too sure what he meant. The white ribbon worn by many protesters he compared to a condom. Perhaps his remark on that score was a joke and something got lost in translation, because I don’t understand that one at all.
What is certain is that Putin is dying to be president again and ain’t nothing going to stop him.
. . .
As for the euro crisis, it seems to be getting sillier by the hour. Yesterday some chappie at France’s central bank claimed that of France’s credit status is downgraded by the credit ratings agencies, then so, too, should Britain’s. His suggestion doesn’t make much sense in as far as France’s status would be downgraded not because of the state of its economy but because of its memebership of the - very - troubled eurozone. Britain's economy is also bumping along the bottom but one advantage it has at the moment - no thanks to one Tony Blair - is that it is outside the eurozone. But that wasn’t the point. The point is that the French are rattled, and when the French are rattled they do what we do (only the other way round): attack the opposition. That was odd enough, but at least it came from a stare functionary, the head of the central bank. What is rather odder was that his attack was repeated today by France’s finance minister, which really is extraordinary.
This whole euro shambles is at the centre of a Twitter spat I have been having with my sister (and as she tells me she reads this, I can assure you I am not talking out of school or being in any other way underhand). Her ‘Continental credentials’ (to coin a daft phrase which I must admit would no be out of pace in the Guardian but will have to do for now) are rather stronger than mine, in that although we were both born of a German mother and went to German schools when we were younger, she actually live in France and went to French schools when our father was posted to Paris, and then went on to marry a German. Furthermore, she has lived in Germany for the past 30 years and, in her own words, is ‘a European’.
Now that is all very well, but I can’t quite see why being ‘a European’ should in some mystical way persuade one that all the effort to establish, and now keep afloat, the euro is a good thing rather than believe, as I do and have done from the outset, that it will all end in tears. Wishing something were the case does not, and never will, actually make it the case. And I am quite prepared to argue that I am as much ‘a European’ as she is in as far as I am thoroughly persuaded that the single market has been a good thing all round. But I just wish the EU had left it at that rather than fallen into the hands of a bunch of superannuated Sixties ex-hippies with all their la-la ideas of brotherhood and sisterhood (‘all them cornfields and ballet in the evening’) from the Volga to the Shannon (forgive me if that is poor geography, but you get my point).
Removing trade barriers and making commerce easier and more efficient is one thing. Treating everyone and everything in Europe as ‘equal’ when, as is now abundantly clear, they are nothing of the kind, is quite another. I’ll say it again: wishing that something were the case doesn’t, and never will, actually make it so. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if in their heart of hearts Merkel, Sarkozy, Van Rompuy and the rest of that sorry crowd haven’t all offered a private prayer to Santa to ‘bring a solution, please. Please, please, please, please, please. And I’ll never be naughty again. Promise’. I’ll tell you what this ‘European’ want for Christmas: a bunch of men and women running the bloody EU who aren’t all away with the fairies.
. . .
There is always the chance that the new ‘fiscal union’ rules are so subtle, I am far too thick to understand them, but I tell me if I have got this right or not: if a country borrows to much to finance it’s spending, it will be fined. That is, because it didn’t have enough moolah to pay its bills, it borrowed money, but borrowed more than it should have done. So where exactly is the money going to come from to pay the ‘fine’?
Then there’s the question of how exactly a country which has been obliged to impost austerity measures on every last man, woman, cat and dog in the country is going to go about ‘growing its economy’? Oh, and while I’m at it, it is acknowledge that part of the problems faced by both Greece and Italy is their cultures of chronic tax evasion. Once, as the plan visualises, tax matters are taken over by Brussels, how exactly is the EU going to go about tackling any tax evaders? Will guns and other armaments be allowed or will it restrict itself to sending strong letters of complaint?
As it turns out, I was completely wrong (which only goes to show the Vlad the Lad is a rather cannier politico than I could ever hope to be). Vlad obviously calculated that the best form of defence was attack and in a four and a half hour programme of responding to the public’s phone-on questions let rip on all fronts. The protesters, he assured a grateful Russian public, were put up to it by the U.S. That is pretty unlikely, of course, but most certainly what a great number of Russians wanted to hear.
He also suggested that web cameras should be set up in polling stations - I hope he meant polling stations, not polling booths - but I’m not too sure what he meant. The white ribbon worn by many protesters he compared to a condom. Perhaps his remark on that score was a joke and something got lost in translation, because I don’t understand that one at all.
What is certain is that Putin is dying to be president again and ain’t nothing going to stop him.
. . .
As for the euro crisis, it seems to be getting sillier by the hour. Yesterday some chappie at France’s central bank claimed that of France’s credit status is downgraded by the credit ratings agencies, then so, too, should Britain’s. His suggestion doesn’t make much sense in as far as France’s status would be downgraded not because of the state of its economy but because of its memebership of the - very - troubled eurozone. Britain's economy is also bumping along the bottom but one advantage it has at the moment - no thanks to one Tony Blair - is that it is outside the eurozone. But that wasn’t the point. The point is that the French are rattled, and when the French are rattled they do what we do (only the other way round): attack the opposition. That was odd enough, but at least it came from a stare functionary, the head of the central bank. What is rather odder was that his attack was repeated today by France’s finance minister, which really is extraordinary.
This whole euro shambles is at the centre of a Twitter spat I have been having with my sister (and as she tells me she reads this, I can assure you I am not talking out of school or being in any other way underhand). Her ‘Continental credentials’ (to coin a daft phrase which I must admit would no be out of pace in the Guardian but will have to do for now) are rather stronger than mine, in that although we were both born of a German mother and went to German schools when we were younger, she actually live in France and went to French schools when our father was posted to Paris, and then went on to marry a German. Furthermore, she has lived in Germany for the past 30 years and, in her own words, is ‘a European’.
Now that is all very well, but I can’t quite see why being ‘a European’ should in some mystical way persuade one that all the effort to establish, and now keep afloat, the euro is a good thing rather than believe, as I do and have done from the outset, that it will all end in tears. Wishing something were the case does not, and never will, actually make it the case. And I am quite prepared to argue that I am as much ‘a European’ as she is in as far as I am thoroughly persuaded that the single market has been a good thing all round. But I just wish the EU had left it at that rather than fallen into the hands of a bunch of superannuated Sixties ex-hippies with all their la-la ideas of brotherhood and sisterhood (‘all them cornfields and ballet in the evening’) from the Volga to the Shannon (forgive me if that is poor geography, but you get my point).
Removing trade barriers and making commerce easier and more efficient is one thing. Treating everyone and everything in Europe as ‘equal’ when, as is now abundantly clear, they are nothing of the kind, is quite another. I’ll say it again: wishing that something were the case doesn’t, and never will, actually make it so. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if in their heart of hearts Merkel, Sarkozy, Van Rompuy and the rest of that sorry crowd haven’t all offered a private prayer to Santa to ‘bring a solution, please. Please, please, please, please, please. And I’ll never be naughty again. Promise’. I’ll tell you what this ‘European’ want for Christmas: a bunch of men and women running the bloody EU who aren’t all away with the fairies.
. . .
There is always the chance that the new ‘fiscal union’ rules are so subtle, I am far too thick to understand them, but I tell me if I have got this right or not: if a country borrows to much to finance it’s spending, it will be fined. That is, because it didn’t have enough moolah to pay its bills, it borrowed money, but borrowed more than it should have done. So where exactly is the money going to come from to pay the ‘fine’?
Then there’s the question of how exactly a country which has been obliged to impost austerity measures on every last man, woman, cat and dog in the country is going to go about ‘growing its economy’? Oh, and while I’m at it, it is acknowledge that part of the problems faced by both Greece and Italy is their cultures of chronic tax evasion. Once, as the plan visualises, tax matters are taken over by Brussels, how exactly is the EU going to go about tackling any tax evaders? Will guns and other armaments be allowed or will it restrict itself to sending strong letters of complaint?
Tuesday 13 December 2011
Time for a sigh of relief? At least that chap Hollande can keep his dick in his pants. And good news from The Front: we have a solution. (Well, it might work, and if it doesn’t we’re in the clear because it will all be the fault of the rotter Cameron)
‘Spectacular’ doesn’t even begin to describe the collapse of Dominique Strauss-Kahn’s political career. Where once he was considered by some as a shoo-in for the French Presidency and at least five years, if not ten, of snubbing assorted British Prime Ministers, he is now reduced for writing sex advice for sleazy EU publications.
I’m sure the French Socialists must be breathing a sigh of relief, although that sigh will be bitter-sweet. DSK, as we bloggers like to call him to give the impression we know what we are talking about, was one of the better chances they had for getting their man or woman into the Elysee Palace (and sorry to write so inelegantly, but ‘getting their person into the Elysee Palace’ sounds vaguely daft), so that is an opportunity missed. On the other hand it would have been a racing certainty the DSK would have carried on living his raucous sex life once elected and it would have looked very bad for the Left. Although Mitterrand got away with murder, even to the extent of having two parallel families, there is no record that he organised orgies and was regularly picked up by the police trawling for whores in the rougher corners of Paris. For whatever reason, the Daily Telegraph has gathered a round-up of stories detailing DSK’s shenanigans, and you can find it here.
As it is, they are reduced to fielding as their candidate one Francois Hollande, who (I am assured by my brother, who
grew up in France and can set me straight on all things French) has been nicknamed after a popular pudding in France, the obvious implication being that he resembles one. I understand that he is also regarded as something of an unexciting chap, but that would be rather a good thing for France over the next few years if ‘unexciting’ is synonymous with ‘a steady hand’. My brother assures me that if Nicolas Sarkozy is re-elected - and he hasn’t yet even said he will stand again, although that is assumed - it will be because Hollande lost rather than Sakozy won.
The French presidential election next April and May, which can be regarded as ‘imminent’ in political terms, will be largely why Sarkozy was so fucked off with David Cameron’s ‘heroic stand at the recent EU summit/laughably naive tactics at the recent EU summit’ (delete as applicably and according your prejudices). I assume that although the new, but still very silly, plan he and Angela Merkel proposed for ‘saving the euro’ (everyone in all 27 member states is to be urged to look down the back of their sofas to see what small change they can find and, who knows, it might all yet add up to build a trillion-euro escape tunnel) would have done rather less about solving the crisis than sacrificing a goat in the Hebrides it would, at least, have given the impression of resolute action.
As it stands our very own Eton toff has screwed all that and Sarkozy now faces pleading his case for re-election facing the charge that not only did he fail to solve the euro crisis, but he failed to solve the euro crisis while holding hands with the Boche bitch Angela Merkel. And that might well cook his goose. That is probably the only reason David Cameron is off Sarkozy’s Christmas card list, but it is a very good one. Whether or not it is still Sarkozy bossing everyone about at the palace or whether the minions there get Hollande, who can at least be expected to say ‘please’ when he bosses them about remains to be seen.
Either way it is still my view that the euro is totally fucked and the sooner the assortment of politicians which run the eurozone countries acknowledged the fact and set about salvaging what they might, the better. On one of the newspaper messages boards I recently read the proud boast from some British expat living in Germany that it was all stuff and nonsense about the euro being on its last legs as ‘business here is booming’. I don’t doubt it, but one does wonder just how much it cheers up the old and poor in Greece, Ireland and Portugal who are seeing their benefits and pensions cut as part of the Brussels-ordered austerity measures that German business is ‘booming’.
. . .
The whole euro cock-up saga rumbles on and gets less convincing by the day. It’s rather like listening to a down-at-heel semi-alcoholic uncle explaining how he could have been a kingpin in the city if it hadn’t been for a few strokes of bad luck which is why he is now selling investment advice to anyone stupid enough to pay attention to his worn-out schtick. David Cameron’s ill-considered flounce out of last week’s summit / heroic stand for the principles which made Britain great (delete as applicable according to your prejudices) is nothing but a transient sideshow, but one which both sides of this tedious argument are grateful for.
It allows both sides to distract attention from the issue which is most dangerous: Merkel, Sarkozy and assorted political has-beens who now earn their daily crust parading as EU/EC bigwigs can concentrate on how Britain is destroying the EU and, in time, once the euro has gone the way of the groat, insist that all would have been saved had Cameron not walked out and sabotaged the currency.
Cameron is happier because he is now flavour of the month with the kind of British idiots who wear Union Jack underpants and whistle Land Of Hope And Glory while shagging the wife and is politically more secure. He also knows that however much the Lib Dems hate him – actually they already hate him so much, they couldn’t possibly hate him any more – they know that Coalition with the Tories is for them now the only game in town and without it they are as relevant to the voter as last week’s Radio Times, so there is little chance they will leave the Coalition. Meanwhile, of course, the euro continues its ever-so-slow slide into abject oblivion. At best the rumpus at the summit has bought time for those hoping to arrange their affairs in such a way that when the collapse comes, they can salvage at least some of their furniture.
The grand solution, the solution to end all solutions, the mother of all solutions was this: a fiscal union of all euro countries or, even better, all 27 EU countries at some point in the future. But put aside, for a moment, the sheer idiocy of what is being proposed. The people who need to be convinced that ‘a solution has been found’ – the money people – remain stubbornly unconvinced. Try here and here.
And what of the Mekozy solution, the plan to solve it all and go fishing. Well, it boils down to this: once everyone has agreed, all countries in the euro (or even all EU countries) would be obliged to submit their budget plans to the EU for approval. And if they spent more than they were allowed to spend (i.e. borrowed more), they would be automatically fined. This arrangement, if all goes well, would be in place by next March. Simple, really. That it has as much chance of succeeding as making ice cream in Hell depends on your prejudices. Mine will, by now, be well known to you, and you will not be surprised that I regard the ‘plan’ as possibly the the worst idea ever considered by mankind. Supporters of ‘the project’, on the other hand, now believe the Promised Land is finally in sight.
It does not seem to have occurred to Merkel and Sarkozy that as the EU’s own accounts have not once been signed off by its own accountants and that several billions of EU money have long since disappeard into the pockets of any number of Euro crims, the idea that they should scrutinise the budgets of others and give it a yea or nay is faintly ludicrous. Then there is the small matter of how they would deal with complaints from some countries that other countries are getting an easier ride. Then there is the danger that if – if - all euro countries agree to the arrangement, a future government might well decide it no longer wants to play ball. What would the EU then do? As for agreeing to the arrangement, at least Ireland must, by law, put any the matter to its people in a referendum. And for those Irish, whose pips are being squeezed as never before on the orders of the EU, feel rather less goodwill to Brussels than your average Orange Order in Northern Ireland does for the Pope.
But even that is a long way down the line. First of course, there is the slight problem that however clever the fiscal union wheeze is, any fiscal wheeze, it is still only a wheeze and does absolutely nothing to solve the crisis now. It was supposed to do so by ‘inspiring confidence’ in the money markets. Well, has it? See above.
Never mind. When it all does go tits up, at least they will have someone to blame: Cameron. Economic lesson No 1: never trust an Old Etonian, however charming he might be.
David flounces out of the EU summit as envious euro supporters look in disbelief
I’m sure the French Socialists must be breathing a sigh of relief, although that sigh will be bitter-sweet. DSK, as we bloggers like to call him to give the impression we know what we are talking about, was one of the better chances they had for getting their man or woman into the Elysee Palace (and sorry to write so inelegantly, but ‘getting their person into the Elysee Palace’ sounds vaguely daft), so that is an opportunity missed. On the other hand it would have been a racing certainty the DSK would have carried on living his raucous sex life once elected and it would have looked very bad for the Left. Although Mitterrand got away with murder, even to the extent of having two parallel families, there is no record that he organised orgies and was regularly picked up by the police trawling for whores in the rougher corners of Paris. For whatever reason, the Daily Telegraph has gathered a round-up of stories detailing DSK’s shenanigans, and you can find it here.
As it is, they are reduced to fielding as their candidate one Francois Hollande, who (I am assured by my brother, who
The French presidential election next April and May, which can be regarded as ‘imminent’ in political terms, will be largely why Sarkozy was so fucked off with David Cameron’s ‘heroic stand at the recent EU summit/laughably naive tactics at the recent EU summit’ (delete as applicably and according your prejudices). I assume that although the new, but still very silly, plan he and Angela Merkel proposed for ‘saving the euro’ (everyone in all 27 member states is to be urged to look down the back of their sofas to see what small change they can find and, who knows, it might all yet add up to build a trillion-euro escape tunnel) would have done rather less about solving the crisis than sacrificing a goat in the Hebrides it would, at least, have given the impression of resolute action.
As it stands our very own Eton toff has screwed all that and Sarkozy now faces pleading his case for re-election facing the charge that not only did he fail to solve the euro crisis, but he failed to solve the euro crisis while holding hands with the Boche bitch Angela Merkel. And that might well cook his goose. That is probably the only reason David Cameron is off Sarkozy’s Christmas card list, but it is a very good one. Whether or not it is still Sarkozy bossing everyone about at the palace or whether the minions there get Hollande, who can at least be expected to say ‘please’ when he bosses them about remains to be seen.
Either way it is still my view that the euro is totally fucked and the sooner the assortment of politicians which run the eurozone countries acknowledged the fact and set about salvaging what they might, the better. On one of the newspaper messages boards I recently read the proud boast from some British expat living in Germany that it was all stuff and nonsense about the euro being on its last legs as ‘business here is booming’. I don’t doubt it, but one does wonder just how much it cheers up the old and poor in Greece, Ireland and Portugal who are seeing their benefits and pensions cut as part of the Brussels-ordered austerity measures that German business is ‘booming’.
. . .
The whole euro cock-up saga rumbles on and gets less convincing by the day. It’s rather like listening to a down-at-heel semi-alcoholic uncle explaining how he could have been a kingpin in the city if it hadn’t been for a few strokes of bad luck which is why he is now selling investment advice to anyone stupid enough to pay attention to his worn-out schtick. David Cameron’s ill-considered flounce out of last week’s summit / heroic stand for the principles which made Britain great (delete as applicable according to your prejudices) is nothing but a transient sideshow, but one which both sides of this tedious argument are grateful for.
It allows both sides to distract attention from the issue which is most dangerous: Merkel, Sarkozy and assorted political has-beens who now earn their daily crust parading as EU/EC bigwigs can concentrate on how Britain is destroying the EU and, in time, once the euro has gone the way of the groat, insist that all would have been saved had Cameron not walked out and sabotaged the currency.
Cameron is happier because he is now flavour of the month with the kind of British idiots who wear Union Jack underpants and whistle Land Of Hope And Glory while shagging the wife and is politically more secure. He also knows that however much the Lib Dems hate him – actually they already hate him so much, they couldn’t possibly hate him any more – they know that Coalition with the Tories is for them now the only game in town and without it they are as relevant to the voter as last week’s Radio Times, so there is little chance they will leave the Coalition. Meanwhile, of course, the euro continues its ever-so-slow slide into abject oblivion. At best the rumpus at the summit has bought time for those hoping to arrange their affairs in such a way that when the collapse comes, they can salvage at least some of their furniture.
The grand solution, the solution to end all solutions, the mother of all solutions was this: a fiscal union of all euro countries or, even better, all 27 EU countries at some point in the future. But put aside, for a moment, the sheer idiocy of what is being proposed. The people who need to be convinced that ‘a solution has been found’ – the money people – remain stubbornly unconvinced. Try here and here.
And what of the Mekozy solution, the plan to solve it all and go fishing. Well, it boils down to this: once everyone has agreed, all countries in the euro (or even all EU countries) would be obliged to submit their budget plans to the EU for approval. And if they spent more than they were allowed to spend (i.e. borrowed more), they would be automatically fined. This arrangement, if all goes well, would be in place by next March. Simple, really. That it has as much chance of succeeding as making ice cream in Hell depends on your prejudices. Mine will, by now, be well known to you, and you will not be surprised that I regard the ‘plan’ as possibly the the worst idea ever considered by mankind. Supporters of ‘the project’, on the other hand, now believe the Promised Land is finally in sight.
It does not seem to have occurred to Merkel and Sarkozy that as the EU’s own accounts have not once been signed off by its own accountants and that several billions of EU money have long since disappeard into the pockets of any number of Euro crims, the idea that they should scrutinise the budgets of others and give it a yea or nay is faintly ludicrous. Then there is the small matter of how they would deal with complaints from some countries that other countries are getting an easier ride. Then there is the danger that if – if - all euro countries agree to the arrangement, a future government might well decide it no longer wants to play ball. What would the EU then do? As for agreeing to the arrangement, at least Ireland must, by law, put any the matter to its people in a referendum. And for those Irish, whose pips are being squeezed as never before on the orders of the EU, feel rather less goodwill to Brussels than your average Orange Order in Northern Ireland does for the Pope.
But even that is a long way down the line. First of course, there is the slight problem that however clever the fiscal union wheeze is, any fiscal wheeze, it is still only a wheeze and does absolutely nothing to solve the crisis now. It was supposed to do so by ‘inspiring confidence’ in the money markets. Well, has it? See above.
Never mind. When it all does go tits up, at least they will have someone to blame: Cameron. Economic lesson No 1: never trust an Old Etonian, however charming he might be.
Saturday 10 December 2011
Not so much a riddle as a total bloody enigma. Perhaps we’re trying too hard to understand Russia. I’ll drink to that
Things are looking a tad bleak for Vladimir Putin if he believes the presidential election next year in which he has said he intends to stand again will be a glorious coronation. As I write, demonstrations protesting against what many believe were rigged elections are taking place in Moscow and are due in several other cities. But it has to be said that according to official figures, the proportion of the vote which went the way of United Russia, ‘Putin’s party’, dropped from 64pc, which is was at the last election, to 49pc. That’s still a majority, but as ‘rigging’ goes, it’s rather subtle: 15pc fewer votes. United Russia still has a majority, of course, so maybe there is a bit of rigging going, but the figure is way short of the 110pc the Pope always gets and the 98pc support various dictators around the world are accustomed to.
At some point I am duty-bound to quote Winston Churchill on Russia, so I might as well get it over with. Russia, he said, is ‘a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma’, which is just a
fancy way of saying we haven’t a clue what makes the Russians tick. For example, the man who would like again to lead a nation of incurable dipsomaniacs who cannot apparently let a goodbye pass without toasting it with a shot of vodka is reported to be a teetotaller. Good for him, I say, but it does rather suprise. Then there is the sheer size of the place. Trying to take the pulse of all-Russia by commenting on what lads and lasses are doing in Moscow and St Petersburg strikes me as being just as silly as drawing conclusions about the state of Great Britain from what’s going on in High Street Kensington, London W8 5TT. What do the other Russians, those living in the many towns and small villages in that vast country, feel? I don’t know and the chances are that you don’t, either. Then there is the question about why exactly the West feels Russia is such a threat.
The last time I looked things were going tits up in Iran, Syria, the eurozone and Libya, so why are we so worried that ‘Putin will be president until 2020’ if he serves another two terms? OK, so he’s not exactly Mr Democracy, but how exactly is he a threat? When push comes to shove, what we want from Russia is their gas, a modicum of stability and for them to keep their gangsters out of Western Europe. And were I a Putin supporter arguing with someone slagging off my man as ‘not being democratic’, I would point out that both Greece and Italy now have prime ministers who were more or less appointed by Brussels eurocrats on the urging of Germany’s Angela Merkel and France’s Nicolas Sarkozy. The ordinary Greek and Italian voters had absolutely no say in the matter. That doesn’t strike me as being overwhelmingly democratic, either.
Having said all that, the reaction of the Russian authorities to the planned protests is to flood the relevant parts of Moscow with troops. And that doesn’t bode well, either. When the Communist Party ran Russia as a dictatorship, it always had the figleaf of the party to hide behind. Putin has none of that. He might eventually claim to be ‘acting in the interest of the nation’, but if he does, he will also be aware that that is hackneyed line used by would-be dictators everywhere. Somehow, I don’t think the situation in Russia is quite as cut and dried as we here in the West like to make out. The Soviets survived for so long because they had almost supreme control of the media. Russian television, I understand, is under state control and hasn’t reported on the anti-election result protests, but many newspapers did.
Crucially, however, Russians can now travel abroad and have access to the internet. A putative Russian dictator would have to successfully achieve a massive clampdown on all kinds of institutions if he wanted to do things the old way. Instead, he would be obliged to do things the new way, to buy off the middle-classes by ensuring that their lives of ease continue. That, it seems, is largely what has been happening for these past ten years. The trouble is that people living a life of ease grow weary of their current comforts which for them are the norm and they demand even more. Reportedly, the Russian economy is still limping along and it is still only gas exports on which the state can rely for income. Putin is no dumbo and will know that Russia must rely less on a finite resource. But to revitalise the economy and attract foreign investment, the rule of law must be trusted. So Vlad the Lad might well decide that a modicum of democracy is no bad thing for Russia, as long as he stays in charge.
Then there is also the question of his support: I have always been very puzzled by the intricate nexus of alliances and dependency which keeps a strong man in power. Certainly, as with Gaddafi and others, over time he will have a network of others who see him remaining in place as the guarantee of their own status. And one can only assume Putin relies on a similar network. And that makes me wonder whether, perhaps, he really the main man, or whether a power bloc at the top (with, I should imagine, extensive business interests they want to protect) has agreed to him being the main man. Most certainly that seems to have been the way the Communist Party operated once Stalin had popped his clogs (and who lay dying for three days in his study because no one dared try disturb him). Who knows? Not much of a payoff line, but with Russia, that’s about all one can attempt.
At some point I am duty-bound to quote Winston Churchill on Russia, so I might as well get it over with. Russia, he said, is ‘a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma’, which is just a
The last time I looked things were going tits up in Iran, Syria, the eurozone and Libya, so why are we so worried that ‘Putin will be president until 2020’ if he serves another two terms? OK, so he’s not exactly Mr Democracy, but how exactly is he a threat? When push comes to shove, what we want from Russia is their gas, a modicum of stability and for them to keep their gangsters out of Western Europe. And were I a Putin supporter arguing with someone slagging off my man as ‘not being democratic’, I would point out that both Greece and Italy now have prime ministers who were more or less appointed by Brussels eurocrats on the urging of Germany’s Angela Merkel and France’s Nicolas Sarkozy. The ordinary Greek and Italian voters had absolutely no say in the matter. That doesn’t strike me as being overwhelmingly democratic, either.
Having said all that, the reaction of the Russian authorities to the planned protests is to flood the relevant parts of Moscow with troops. And that doesn’t bode well, either. When the Communist Party ran Russia as a dictatorship, it always had the figleaf of the party to hide behind. Putin has none of that. He might eventually claim to be ‘acting in the interest of the nation’, but if he does, he will also be aware that that is hackneyed line used by would-be dictators everywhere. Somehow, I don’t think the situation in Russia is quite as cut and dried as we here in the West like to make out. The Soviets survived for so long because they had almost supreme control of the media. Russian television, I understand, is under state control and hasn’t reported on the anti-election result protests, but many newspapers did.
Crucially, however, Russians can now travel abroad and have access to the internet. A putative Russian dictator would have to successfully achieve a massive clampdown on all kinds of institutions if he wanted to do things the old way. Instead, he would be obliged to do things the new way, to buy off the middle-classes by ensuring that their lives of ease continue. That, it seems, is largely what has been happening for these past ten years. The trouble is that people living a life of ease grow weary of their current comforts which for them are the norm and they demand even more. Reportedly, the Russian economy is still limping along and it is still only gas exports on which the state can rely for income. Putin is no dumbo and will know that Russia must rely less on a finite resource. But to revitalise the economy and attract foreign investment, the rule of law must be trusted. So Vlad the Lad might well decide that a modicum of democracy is no bad thing for Russia, as long as he stays in charge.
Then there is also the question of his support: I have always been very puzzled by the intricate nexus of alliances and dependency which keeps a strong man in power. Certainly, as with Gaddafi and others, over time he will have a network of others who see him remaining in place as the guarantee of their own status. And one can only assume Putin relies on a similar network. And that makes me wonder whether, perhaps, he really the main man, or whether a power bloc at the top (with, I should imagine, extensive business interests they want to protect) has agreed to him being the main man. Most certainly that seems to have been the way the Communist Party operated once Stalin had popped his clogs (and who lay dying for three days in his study because no one dared try disturb him). Who knows? Not much of a payoff line, but with Russia, that’s about all one can attempt.
Thursday 8 December 2011
What’s sauce for the goose . . . the Guardian tries its hand at solving an ancient ethical conundrum. And one Vladimir Putin must decide: should he or shouldn’t he? But then he’s such a cutie at heart!
Well, well. Not only was the Guardian so thoroughly outraged by the News of the World hacking onto the mobile phones of various celebs and politicians that it launched an investigation into the whole scummy business, it also thought such hacking was such a good wheeze that it did a little itself. David Leigh, the paper’s assistant editor and head of investigations, has admitted that he, too, as hacked into voicemail messages in an, ultimately successful attempt to substantiate a story about a corrupt businessman.
Actually, the news is not quite as shocking as it might sound, and the Guardian isn’t shown up to by thoroughly hypocritical as my intro might have indicated. In fact, Leigh had already admitted in a piece for his paper in 2006 that he had also indulged in a spot of hacking and even admitted to feeling a ‘vicarious thrill’ while doing so, but his intention was to plead that there are exceptional circumstances in which such subterfuge is justified. And I seem to remember hearing on the radio yesterday that Leveson announced that when he makes his recommendations to as to what kind of journalistic practices he felt should be criminalised, he will also say that whatever laws are made should allow for exceptions. (I tried to find a link to press report on this but so far I haven’t been able to.)
So far, so good, although so far, so muddy. Because Leigh’s admission highlights a perpetial and perennial problem in - er - moral philosophy which is always best summed up in the question ‘does the end justify the means?’ Given what Leigh told Leveson’s inquiry and given Leveson’s subsequent comments on the matter, the answer would seem to be yes. But, as any keen sixth-form philosophy student will tell you, one can quickly think up any number of examples where the answer would seem to be an unequivocal no. For example, if a mother were told that the rest of her children would be saved if she year to murder her youngest, would that murder be justified? So, the answer to the question ‘does the end justify the means?’ would strictly become: sometimes. And that is worse than useless.
We are not dealing with dusty, theoretical philosophy here. The question of ‘when is immoral behaviour acceptable’ raised its ugly head several months ago when the Americans admitted they had resorted to the torture of Al Qaeda suspects. At the time, their response was ‘if a practice is acceptable, it is no longer immoral’, but in truth that is a pretty threadbare argument which merely shifts the burden of proof. A pound of flour is still a pound of floor whether it is weighed on an old-fashioned set a scales or a modern digital set.
Unusually, your resident loudmouth is not about to pronounce and suggest an answer. I’m merely going to take the easy way out and remark that it’s a tough one. I will add, though, that I am more inclined to play it safe and believe that, no, the ends don’t justify the means, for admitting that sometimes they might allows any number of thugs, such as one Joseph Stalin, for example, to justify themselves and their actions. But to point out just how tricky the question is: were the murders of occupying Germans committed by French Resistance more, less or equally as justified as the murders of U.S. and British troops in Afghanistan by the Taliban (or the murders of Soviet troops by the mujahideen)? Sticky, isn’t it?
. . .
If Vladimir Putin were a brand, his owners would be urgently considering a relaunch. If he were an ageing rock star, his managers would be urgently considering a comeback tour. As it is, he’s fucked and faces a huge dilemma: do the crackdowns on protesters in Moscow, St Petersburg and - somewhere called - Samara get heavier until they cease, or does he carry on with the ‘we’re all aspiring democrats now’ schtick and lose even more face? In all this, of course, I’m assuming that his position is safe within the ruling establishment, that he is not, perhaps, in part a placeman who could be replaced if and when those nominal folk pulling the strings decide. And that consideration takes us to an essential difference between the old Soviet regime and the new, it would seem quasi, dictatorship in Russia under Putin. At least the Soviets had the fiction of ‘the Communist Party’ and ‘the interests of the Party’ to fall back on and any reshuffle or internal realignment of power could be camouflaged. Putin has no such fig leaf, and it would seem he stands slap-bang in front of a dilemma.
A month ago I googled Putin’s biography as I realised I knew so little about him. The occasion was a curious story in the Daily Telegraph - you can find it here - about claims made by a former West German secret service agent that Putin used to beat his wife and had several affiars while he was working for the KGB and stationed in East Germany. The agent (whose codename as ‘Balcony’ - she had rather large breasts we are told, although I must be honest and say that is more a British than a German joke, or rather I have never heard it made by a German) had, in the course of her duties, managed to become a confidante of Mrs Putin, and Mrs Putin told her about her husband’s behaviour. Google took me to Wikipedia and, of course, I have the standard reservations about that site, but from what I read there it would seem to be that Putin was, initially, something of an accidental President. His biography doesn’t read as that of someone scheming to get his way to the top. Now he is there, of course, he most probably wants to stay there, but his initial appointment as a prime minister seems to have been something of a matter of chance. But there is now no doubt that he wants another two full terms in charge and will do a great deal to achieve it.
It would be misleading to claim that the people have other ideas. It would be more truthful to say that a number of liberal-minded, middle-class folk in Moscow, St Petersburg and Samara have other ideas, although the numbers who turned out to protest at what they regard were flawed elections can give us no indication at all as to whether there are a great many others in the whole of Russia who feel the same or just a few. (Incidentally, I have often wondered just how we British, or the French or the Germans, would react if the Russians announced they were sending monitors to our countries when an election is due to make sure it was all fair and above board. We might resort to crude language when telling them what to do with their election monitors.)
As that old roue Bill Clinton once remarked ‘it’s the economy, stupid’ when asked what made the voters tick, and the Russians will be no different. If things remain rather comfortable for a great many of them - and there is a great many of them - questions such as why are there no credible alternative candidates to Putin at the coming presidential election will remain unasked. If, on the other hand, the electorate’s standard of living does start to suffer badly, it could well be another matter. And in that case no amount of pictures of Putin strangling bears in the Urals, rolling around naked in Siberian snows, or fishing for shark in the waters of the Volga would soothe them. I have given a selection of Putin action man pictures below. And then, Lordy be!, I have also come across some pictures of Putin expressing his feminine side. He’s such a cutie!
On the lines of Putin PR stunts, one of the funnier videos I have recently seen was of Putin helping to promote a new Lada model. In he jumped to take the smart-looking car for a test drive and turned on the ignition. Sadly, the engine failed to spring to life for several minutes. I do hope he isn’t vain. Because he did look rather silly.
Actually, the news is not quite as shocking as it might sound, and the Guardian isn’t shown up to by thoroughly hypocritical as my intro might have indicated. In fact, Leigh had already admitted in a piece for his paper in 2006 that he had also indulged in a spot of hacking and even admitted to feeling a ‘vicarious thrill’ while doing so, but his intention was to plead that there are exceptional circumstances in which such subterfuge is justified. And I seem to remember hearing on the radio yesterday that Leveson announced that when he makes his recommendations to as to what kind of journalistic practices he felt should be criminalised, he will also say that whatever laws are made should allow for exceptions. (I tried to find a link to press report on this but so far I haven’t been able to.)
So far, so good, although so far, so muddy. Because Leigh’s admission highlights a perpetial and perennial problem in - er - moral philosophy which is always best summed up in the question ‘does the end justify the means?’ Given what Leigh told Leveson’s inquiry and given Leveson’s subsequent comments on the matter, the answer would seem to be yes. But, as any keen sixth-form philosophy student will tell you, one can quickly think up any number of examples where the answer would seem to be an unequivocal no. For example, if a mother were told that the rest of her children would be saved if she year to murder her youngest, would that murder be justified? So, the answer to the question ‘does the end justify the means?’ would strictly become: sometimes. And that is worse than useless.
We are not dealing with dusty, theoretical philosophy here. The question of ‘when is immoral behaviour acceptable’ raised its ugly head several months ago when the Americans admitted they had resorted to the torture of Al Qaeda suspects. At the time, their response was ‘if a practice is acceptable, it is no longer immoral’, but in truth that is a pretty threadbare argument which merely shifts the burden of proof. A pound of flour is still a pound of floor whether it is weighed on an old-fashioned set a scales or a modern digital set.
Unusually, your resident loudmouth is not about to pronounce and suggest an answer. I’m merely going to take the easy way out and remark that it’s a tough one. I will add, though, that I am more inclined to play it safe and believe that, no, the ends don’t justify the means, for admitting that sometimes they might allows any number of thugs, such as one Joseph Stalin, for example, to justify themselves and their actions. But to point out just how tricky the question is: were the murders of occupying Germans committed by French Resistance more, less or equally as justified as the murders of U.S. and British troops in Afghanistan by the Taliban (or the murders of Soviet troops by the mujahideen)? Sticky, isn’t it?
. . .
If Vladimir Putin were a brand, his owners would be urgently considering a relaunch. If he were an ageing rock star, his managers would be urgently considering a comeback tour. As it is, he’s fucked and faces a huge dilemma: do the crackdowns on protesters in Moscow, St Petersburg and - somewhere called - Samara get heavier until they cease, or does he carry on with the ‘we’re all aspiring democrats now’ schtick and lose even more face? In all this, of course, I’m assuming that his position is safe within the ruling establishment, that he is not, perhaps, in part a placeman who could be replaced if and when those nominal folk pulling the strings decide. And that consideration takes us to an essential difference between the old Soviet regime and the new, it would seem quasi, dictatorship in Russia under Putin. At least the Soviets had the fiction of ‘the Communist Party’ and ‘the interests of the Party’ to fall back on and any reshuffle or internal realignment of power could be camouflaged. Putin has no such fig leaf, and it would seem he stands slap-bang in front of a dilemma.
A month ago I googled Putin’s biography as I realised I knew so little about him. The occasion was a curious story in the Daily Telegraph - you can find it here - about claims made by a former West German secret service agent that Putin used to beat his wife and had several affiars while he was working for the KGB and stationed in East Germany. The agent (whose codename as ‘Balcony’ - she had rather large breasts we are told, although I must be honest and say that is more a British than a German joke, or rather I have never heard it made by a German) had, in the course of her duties, managed to become a confidante of Mrs Putin, and Mrs Putin told her about her husband’s behaviour. Google took me to Wikipedia and, of course, I have the standard reservations about that site, but from what I read there it would seem to be that Putin was, initially, something of an accidental President. His biography doesn’t read as that of someone scheming to get his way to the top. Now he is there, of course, he most probably wants to stay there, but his initial appointment as a prime minister seems to have been something of a matter of chance. But there is now no doubt that he wants another two full terms in charge and will do a great deal to achieve it.
It would be misleading to claim that the people have other ideas. It would be more truthful to say that a number of liberal-minded, middle-class folk in Moscow, St Petersburg and Samara have other ideas, although the numbers who turned out to protest at what they regard were flawed elections can give us no indication at all as to whether there are a great many others in the whole of Russia who feel the same or just a few. (Incidentally, I have often wondered just how we British, or the French or the Germans, would react if the Russians announced they were sending monitors to our countries when an election is due to make sure it was all fair and above board. We might resort to crude language when telling them what to do with their election monitors.)
As that old roue Bill Clinton once remarked ‘it’s the economy, stupid’ when asked what made the voters tick, and the Russians will be no different. If things remain rather comfortable for a great many of them - and there is a great many of them - questions such as why are there no credible alternative candidates to Putin at the coming presidential election will remain unasked. If, on the other hand, the electorate’s standard of living does start to suffer badly, it could well be another matter. And in that case no amount of pictures of Putin strangling bears in the Urals, rolling around naked in Siberian snows, or fishing for shark in the waters of the Volga would soothe them. I have given a selection of Putin action man pictures below. And then, Lordy be!, I have also come across some pictures of Putin expressing his feminine side. He’s such a cutie!
On the lines of Putin PR stunts, one of the funnier videos I have recently seen was of Putin helping to promote a new Lada model. In he jumped to take the smart-looking car for a test drive and turned on the ignition. Sadly, the engine failed to spring to life for several minutes. I do hope he isn’t vain. Because he did look rather silly.
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