Basque Peace

A Basque Peace

By TONY BLAIR

The unconditional declaration by the Basque separatist group ETA this week that it is finally ending 50 years of violence, during which it killed hundreds of people and wounded thousands more, should be welcomed by all governments and peoples. It is a victory for democracy, as well as a victory for the people of Spain and the Basque regions of Spain and France.

The Spanish government — in particular Spanish Prime Minister José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero and his deputy, the long-time interior minister, Alfredo Rubalcaba — has taken courageous risks for peace and paid a heavy political price when ETA responded by blowing up part of Madrid airport and returning to killing in 2006.

Zapatero and his colleagues never stopped fighting ETA, consistently defending Spanish democracy, and, with the support and cooperation of President Nicolas Sarkozy of France, successfully weakened the terrorist movement by arresting its leadership and disrupting their attacks.

But Zapatero also never stopped offering the hand of peace. He made it clear that there would be no secret negotiations, that there would be no political concessions to ETA, and that another cease-fire would not be enough: ETA must unilaterally, publicly and unambiguously declare that it was ending the armed struggle for good if there was to be peace.

The opposition Popular Party, led by Mariano Rajoy, has also always demonstrated its seriousness and responsibility on this issue.

The firmness paid off this week. ETA has now done exactly what was demanded. Its leaders have put violence behind them for good. This really is the end of the last armed confrontation in Europe.

In its declaration ending the armed campaign, ETA asks for talks with the governments of Spain and France to deal with the “consequences” of the conflict. These talks are necessary to assure the dissolution of ETA as a military force.

Just as we did in our talks in Northern Ireland, these talks will deal with the decommissioning of weapons, explosives and military infrastructure, with the issue of prisoners and exiles, with the rehabilitation of those caught up in the violence, with security normalization and with recompense for victims.

As in Northern Ireland, there will be a “peace dividend” for Spain. The billions of euros that have been spent on security can now be redirected to more socially useful ends, a welcome benefit in a time of cutbacks and budget restraint.

As in Northern Ireland we must remember the victims and ensure that the families left behind are properly recognized and supported.

Above all, it will now be possible for all parties in Spain and the Basque region to pursue their aims politically without violence or the threat of violence.

I believe there also are wider lessons from the end of this conflict.

The first is that governments must firmly defend themselves, their principles and their people against terrorists. This requires good police and intelligence work as well as political determination.

But governments must also recognize the need to “talk to their enemies.” Firm security pressure on terrorists must be coupled with offering them a way out when they realize that they cannot win by violence. Terrorist groups are rarely defeated by military means alone. Peace is always made between enemies, not friends. This is as true in the Middle East, Africa, Asia and the Americas as it is in the Basque region.

I learned from our experience in Northern Ireland that ending violence and making peace irreversible requires patience, taking risks, suffering setbacks and a constant commitment. It also requires creativity, generosity and statesmanship. In Spain these qualities have been demonstrated by all and will be needed to secure a lasting peace.

Spain will hold national elections on Nov. 20 and a new government will have to take on the hard work of clearing up the consequences of the conflict. This is the point in peace processes when the participants often collapse in exhaustion — but it is when efforts need to be redoubled. The European Union and the wider international community should strongly support the new Spanish government in this effort.

ETA has made a historic declaration. The opportunity for peace must now be seized. I will work to support Spain, France and the citizens of the Basque region in any way I can in their effort to secure the lasting peace and democracy they have long demanded and fully deserve.

Tony Blair was prime minister of Britain from 1997 to 2007.

18th Of July - The F Word

In Praise Of...

The first name on the list is John Angus. The records say little about him. He was, they suspected, from London. In September 1938, he was reported "fighting in Spain". He was a communist. In longhand, someone has later added "Returned". Further than that, the record is silent. But Angus is caught in the spotlight today because he is on a remarkable list of more than 4,000 British people who volunteered on behalf of the Spanish Republic in the civil war of 1936-39, which has now been made public in the National Archives. To MI5, which compiled the list, John Angus and the others who fought for Spain were suspicious, perhaps with reason in some cases. To many reading the newly released list today, however, Angus and his companions are heroes, bathed in romance. A few – like the poet John Cornford, against whose name a clerk wrote "DEAD" in December 1936, and then underlined it – were famous in their time. Most were not. They were mainly working-class, often communists, Scots and Jewish. More than 500 people from these islands died for Spain in those three years – more than have died in Afghanistan in nearly a decade. The names of the dead have long been collected together on the International Brigade Memorial Trust website. Now, thanks to a liberal gesture by the security service, the dead and their comrades who survived have been reunited in this much longer list, an enduring roll call of a generation and a company who should be remembered in honour.

Basque, Leftwing & Separatist

Know Your Neighbours

The Guardian's New Europe series launched at perhaps the busiest time for international news since 9/11. Revolution in north Africa and the Middle East, a triple disaster in Japan, Ivory Coast on the brink. What could a month-long journey through Europe's most important countries tell us about the crises of the day?

Plenty. Within hours of launching Germany week, the nuclear disaster in Japan was contaminating German politics, forcing a rethink on nuclear power and propelling the Greens to a remarkable electoral triumph. France week kicked off at the same time as the French-led air assault (pictured below) on Muammar Gaddafi's regime, which rebooted not only French foreign policy but perhaps the Sarkozy presidency. The immigration debate in southern Europe faced a new dynamic with the sudden spike in the number of Africans heading north across the Mediterranean.

All this at a time when the leaders in all four countries we examined faced questions about their mandate: Nicolas Sarkozy and Poland's Donald Tusk are both girding for imminent re-election battles; Spain will get a new prime minister next year after José Luis Zapatero announced he would not be seeking a third term; and Germany's Angela Merkel suffered an electoral setback in Baden-Württemberg.

But New Europe month told us most about the post-crash Europe that we live in. It gave us a chance to understand how our neighbours are dealing with the biggest economic upheaval in a generation, an opportunity to find out who had the best answers to universal European problems of ageing populations, listless youth, insolvent governments, bankrupt welfare systems, restive regions and often unfair health and education systems.

Economics and welfare

Our correspondents found that when it comes to economics, Europe's post-crisis nations are a little like Tolstoy's families: happy economies are alike, but every unhappy economy is unhappy in its own way. In France, les misérables are striking workers, jobless youth and a president who has had to water down his grand designs for Thatcherite reform. In Spain, the unhappy are residents of construction-boom towns that now sit almost empty, the bankers who are all but bust and the one in five unemployed. In Poland, the unfortunates are those on the wrong end of deepening inequality.

Ailing economies weaken the power of the state, nowhere more critically than in France, where the sense of entitlement now dwarfs the ability of the state to subserve it. Polly Toynbee found that in a country which diverts a full third of its national income to pensions, income support, health and social services, "cross-party commitment to welfare runs deep". Readers online and of the paper were as divided as the French themselves on the issue of whether the generous French welfare state was still affordable. For some, the country's system is a model for the UK; others expressed concern about its top-down economy and an emergent two-tier system for workers, in which those on low pay and temporary contracts are excluded from the security, tax breaks and welfare payments enjoyed by their permanent counterparts. One reader, Gwan, said: "No one in my office has a permanent contract, and we're all educated to master's level and employed by the state. Job insecurity aside, there's zero hope for advancement."

Health and education

France's health system impressed our correspondents, beating the NHS on most yardsticks. The picture was more nuanced elsewhere, but readers took issue with the suggestion that Spanish healthcare and medical staff have been protected from cutbacks during the financial downturn. Healthcare standards vary greatly between regions as the organisation of the communidades autónomas play their parts, they said, with one reader citing a 10% cut in Catalonia's health budget this year. There was much praise, however, for the work of the donor co-ordinators mentioned in the article and for hospitals' treatment of family members and visitors.

On schools, our correspondents were surprised to find that elitism, selection and ghettoisation were not just a British disease. The German system of streaming at 10, which heavily favours the middle classes, felt like a formalisation of the UK's own patchwork system in which the well-to-do try to buy better futures for their children.

The Spanish mix of concertadas (academies) and faith schools alongside down-at-heel state schools also felt deeply familiar. France, with its long school days, rigorous grading system and uniform curriculum, is falling down international league tables.

Immigration

Also familiar are the various debates across the continent on immigration, minorities and integration. In France, Angelique Chrisafis spoke to Marine Le Pen, pictured, dauphine of the far right, who still argues that immigration is a threat to the economy and security of France, and speaks of immigrants as "neverending queues of foreigners". Her Front National scored well in local elections and an opinion poll found she was more popular than Sarkozy.

In Germany, steeped in a sulphurous debate about whether Turks are doing enough to integrate, Gary Younge found housing projects where there was "not a lot of tension here, but there's also not necessarily a lot of contact". Readers weighed in on both sides: many took issue with "multiculturalism". JoeDeM wrote: "It seems that Germany has similar problems to the UK when it comes to the integration of Muslim immigrant communities. Hardly surprising." Ostberlin offered a first-person perspective that provided a nice counterpoint: "Although everybody speaks about education all the time, I think the poison of racism is the key issue; if, like Günther Wallraff, you treat people with affection and dignity, they respond in kind. This is my experience."

In Spain and Poland, our writers found countries preoccupied with a different kind of migration: exodus. With jobs hard to find, a new cohort of Spanish youth is preparing to move overseas to find work. Poles did the same, of course, throughout the past decade. Amelia Gentleman found that many are now returning, and not always with good stories. One migrant, JanPomorski, said: "I was one of those migrants myself, came back after two years … I was just another Pole living in the ghetto (Stratford, London) for 900 pounds/month, in overcrowded place, struggling to save some money. As for the promised land, I can say just one thing: agencies. Some work agencies are advertising, hiring, and even training in Poland (like I was trained) and as soon as you start working they don't give a sheet about you any more."

Gender and family life

Zoe Williams found Germany preoccupied with its low birth rate, France suffused with pervasive, tacit misogyny, and Spain with a lot of women in its government, but many more discriminated against in the job market. Readers challenged the view of France, pointing to a proliferation of political and business high flyers, with lavieenrose offering this personal perspective: "As a woman who has lived in France for 40 years, I worked my way up the corporate ladder to senior management positions back in the supposedly dark days of the 70s and 80s. Not easy, particularly with two children, but not exceptional by any means and probably easier than in the UK due to the higher percentage of working women, superior maternity benefits and well-organised childcare facilities. And why no mention of leading French businesswomen such as Anne Lauvergeon, president of one of the biggest companies in the world, Areva?"

However, support for the piece came from mireillep: "It is anecdotal but I find women here so subservient in subtle ways. Men rule, no doubt about that. In this Latin society the male has space, he is entitled. It is indefinite, it is subtle, but even my British husband feels it. They strut their stuff and it's OK. Women work, have babies (the highest birthrate in Europe), do the washing, the shopping, the cooking, the kids' stuff (82% of childrearing is carried out by women, 80% of domestic tasks too) and they get depressed (recent studies done) and anxious. France is the highest consumer of antidepressants."

Our G2 writers, meanwhile, found young European families grappling with the same issues that their British counterparts face: trying to be good parents as well as good professionals; short of time, space and money.

Art and culture

Correspondents found arts at the sharp end of the cuts agenda – even in France, which has traditionally earmarked lavish funds to ensure the persistence of the exception culturelle. Some readers argued that Spain's art scene might not be as bleak as our piece portrayed, pointing to "an overwhelming amount of art that doesn't involve gallery spaces, public or private". Street theatre, outdoor performances and exhibitions are found all year round, some readers said, and there has been an improvement in Spanish arts since the 1980s and 90s, with increased involvement of public institutions at national, regional and local level, leading to new collections, grants, exhibitions and museums. Others suggested Spain was "a cultural desert" that neglected to nurture artistic talent at youth and university levels and also lacked cultural programming on TV – factors that are driving Spanish talent abroad.

Marie Winckler's appeal for new, subversive French theatre directors, actors and playwrights produced a wide range of recommendations on who to follow, from the Théâtre de la Colline in Paris to the writers Bernard-Marie Koltès, Jean-Luc Lagarce and Olivier Py, and actor/writers such as Joël Pommerat. Commenters broadly agreed there was a shortage in this area of French theatre, with some suggesting the stagnation was being felt in other cultural areas such as the visual arts, too, and was fed by being "a closed space which only services a small group [of friends and influencers]".

Dorota Maslowsa's summary of the development and future of Polish art since the fall of communism was welcomed by commenters as "interesting" and "well-observed", although one worried: "I just hope that 'modern' and 'universal' are not euphemisms for 'western' and 'homogenous'."

Europeans

Readers were invited to send us short videos in support of their favourite European country. Spain emerged as the most popular and Spaniards the most likely to nominate their own land, possibly helped by a Twitter campaign urging Spaniards to fly the national flag. "Where else can you ski in the morning and go to the beach in the afternoon?" pondered Cristina and Lola.

Miles from Wiesbaden took us on a tour of his city to show us "why Germany is a nice place", explaining that Germans are old-fashioned people who love traditional food, nature and romance. Italians made wry references to Silvio Berlusconi's extracurricular activities while extolling their food, lifestyle and landscape. Ambra told us: "I don't eat pasta every day, drive a Ferrari or participate in bunga-bunga parties with my prime minister."

As for the European project itself, battered by the debt crisis, correspondents found Germany determined to defend its national interest, Spain's prime minister told Giles Tremlett the country would not need a bailout – words that take on greater significance in the wake of the Portuguese cry for help this week – and Timothy Garton-Ash's overview of Poland's journey to being a "normal" European country elicited plenty of responses. Alex, a 28-year-old living in Warsaw, said: "I am surprised how well authors of articles from the series New Europe describe Poland." Talking of his own, post-communist generation, he went on: "When I observe young people, born in the 80s and 90s, it is obvious they have no complexes, they feel Europeans, and speak at least one foreign language. It is the generation of our parents and grandparents who still live in the past, slowing down reforms and any other necessary changes in the country. I'm not sure if we should complain that much about the situation when people who govern still don't understand our reality – we are Europeans with European problems just living on Polish territory."Guardian readers also shared their views of Poland – its cities, countryside, food and people – in our Flickr group, inspired by David Levene's shots of Warsaw.

The King Is Naked!

Spain must compensate the radical Basque separatist leader Arnaldo Otegi after wrongly sentencing him to jail for insulting King Juan Carlos, the European court of human rights has decided.

The court in Strasbourg ruled on Tuesday that Spain must pay €23,000 (nearly £20,000) in compensation to Otegi for breaching his right to freedom of expression after he accused the Spanish monarch of protecting police torturers.

Otegi made his comments after police raided and closed down the Basque-language Egunkaria newspaper in February 2003. The editor, Martxelo Otamendi, and other executives, claimed they were tortured. When Juan Carlos visited the Basque country soon afterwards, Otegi said that as "supreme head of the civil guard police force", the monarch was effectively in command of those who had tortured Egunkaria staff.

Otegi claimed the king "protects torture and imposes his monarchical regime on our people through torture and violence". Three years later a Spanish court found him guilty of insulting the king, handing down a one-year suspended jail sentence and imposing costs.

But the Strasbourg court has decided Otegi was within his rights as a politician to air his grievances against the king, though the torture allegations were never proved.

Otegi's remarks were "made in his capacity as elected member of and spokesperson for a parliamentary group …in the context of the recent closure of the Egunkaria newspaper and the complaint alleging ill-treatment", the Strasbourg judges ruled.

They accepted that his words "could be understood as contributing to a wider public debate on the possible responsibility of the state security forces in cases of ill treatment".

Spanish judges last year threw out a case alleging that Otamendi and other Egunkaria executives had collaborated with Eta. The decision came too late to save Egunkaria.

Four civil guard police officers were found guilty last December of torturing members of an Eta unit that killed two people with a bomb at Madrid's Barajas airport in 2006.

Otegi is one of a group of separatist leaders now trying to persuade Eta to end four decades of terrorism.

Liberation Heroes

Miguel Hidalgo, an unconventional priest inspired by the Enlightenment, led peasants in revolt, sparking what became Mexico's independence war, and was shot by firing squad in 1811.

José Martí, a precocious intellectual and rebel, resisted US meddling and symbolised Cuba's fight against Spain's domination. He died in battle in 1895.

José De San Martin, a professional soldier, is Argentina's national hero for building an army that engaged Spanish forces in northern Argentina, Peru and Chile. Died in exile in France in 1850.

José Artigas, an expert rider and marksman, helped Spain to resist British incursions before taking charge of anti-Spanish forces in what is today Uruguay. Died in exile in Paraguay in 1850.

Bernardo O'Higgins, of Basque and Irish lineage, ousted royalists from Chile and became the country's founding father. Died in 1842 en route home after exile in Peru.

Símon Boliívar, a Creole aristocrat, mobilised Venezuela and Colombia against Spain and became the most celebrated liberator. Died in 1830, apparently from tuberculosis.

Joaquim José da Silva Xavier led a Brazilian revolution against Portuguese rule and pillage of mineral wealth. Was betrayed and executed in 1792 in Rio de Janeiro.

Túpac Amaru, the descendant of Inca royalty, led a doomed campaign against Spanish conquest and was executed in 1572. Today several leftwing political groups are named after him.

The Economist Edito & Article

IN PHILOSOPHY there is a paradox known as the Ship of Theseus. If, over time, all the ship’s planks are replaced, does it remain the same ship? The judges on Spain’s Supreme Court will soon face a mirror image of this question. Sortu, a new political group that seeks independence for the Basque country, is the brainchild of senior figures from Batasuna, a party banned in 2003 for its links to the terrorists of ETA. Sortu says it is not the same as Batasuna, and should be allowed to register as a party (see article). On this, if little else, it is right.

Many Spanish people disagree. Sortu, says one opposition politician, is still the “claw” of ETA, only with “painted nails”. Such scepticism is understandable. The creators of Sortu belonged to a party that took orders from gunmen and bombers responsible for hundreds of deaths. Batasuna probably channelled the public funds it received into ETA’s pockets. Many thought the distinction between Batasuna and ETA illusory.

Unlike Sinn Fein in Northern Ireland, Batasuna did not appear to provide a useful “bridge” between violent separatism and constitutional politics. Rather than aggravate Basque-nationalist grievances, as some, including this newspaper, feared, the ban on the party seemed to help marginalise the militants. In June 2009 the Spanish court’s decision was upheld by the European Court of Human Rights.

Related items

• Basque politics: Same, but different Feb 24th 2011

---

So what has changed? ETA is still not to be trusted; a “permanent” ceasefire in 2006 lasted just nine months. But the group is far weaker today. A string of successful police operations has sapped its manpower and morale. Since 2000 it has killed 58 people; three decades ago it often took more lives than that in a year. Unlike the 2006 truce, which was a tactical move ETA made when it thought it was still strong, its latest ceasefire, declared in September and made “permanent” in January, was partly the result of pressure by former Batasuna leaders, including some of those standing behind Sortu, who have lost faith in the armed struggle.

More importantly, Sortu says it rejects ETA’s violence. Seeking to satisfy the judges, the party has even written its denunciations into its statutes. This is a significant shift. Batasuna never condemned ETA’s terrorism, and often glorified the gunmen. The new party has left itself little room to operate in the same way. Its stance could act as a brake on violence; ETA may not want to drive a public wedge between itself and the politicians by forcing Sortu to condemn it. It is the party’s decisive rejection of violence, above all, that means Spain’s judges ought to turn down prosecutors’ calls to ban it.

Legalise it, do criticise it

Granting a party the right to take part in elections does not bestow on it the seal of legitimacy. The desperadoes of Sortu have done little to earn this. The whole history of their movement is one of intransigence and truculence. Their ideological allies in ETA have repeatedly shown themselves to be untrustworthy negotiating partners. Even now they show no sign of making moves to decommission their arms stocks.

But bringing the political representatives of Basque militancy into the democratic light would be the best way to show up these flaws. Indeed, perhaps the best outcome would be for those who favour Basque independence to vote for Aralar, a separatist party that split from Batasuna in 2000 over its continued backing of terrorism. That would be the ultimate rejection of ETA. And it has to happen at the ballot box.

Torture & Black Ops

Cat in the Med

Prince Carlos Hugo (RIP)

Prince Carlos Hugo de Bourbon-Parma, who has died aged 80 of prostate cancer, was the last remotely plausible alternative wearer of the Spanish crown. When that cause failed, he became the high-profile leader of a centre-left political party, but that cause failed, too.

In 1957 Carlos Hugo accepted from his ageing father, Xavier, Duke of Parma, the leadership of the Carlist movement. Xavier had received it from his relative Alfonso Carlos, the grandson of Prince Carlos, who believed he should have become King Carlos V in 1830. He had been displaced when his brother, Ferdinand VII, had ensured that the succession would go to any child of his, male or female, shortly before the birth of his daughter, who became Isabella II. The Carlists' dynastic claim, based on an uneasy blend of absolute orthodox monarchism and Catholicism with regionalist populism, gave rise to three civil wars in the 19th century.

Carlism survived in the northern and eastern regions of Spain, and found a natural ally in General Francisco Franco's National movement. This was established in 1937, the year following the start of the civil war, and united the Carlists – who took an active part in the conflict – with other Catholic conservatives and monarchists, and with the Falangists. Once the nationalists had prevailed over the republicans in 1939, the Carlists retained a voice in the leadership, and Franco became the regent for an absent, unappointed monarch.

Young, dynamic and industrious, Carlos Hugo soon showed himself a worthy contender for that post. He embarked on an almost frenetic programme of activity, conferring with the country's leaders and rallying the movement's faithful. His marriage in 1964 to Princess Irene of the Netherlands, sister of the present Queen Beatrix, boosted his chances a little further. The constitutional crisis this caused in the Netherlands, a Protestant marrying a Catholic from a fascist country, only added to the publicity surrounding the event.

But his regal hopes came to nothing. In 1969 Franco designated Juan Carlos de Bourbon, grandson of the last reigning monarch, as the next king, and Carlos Hugo changed tactic. Ably assisted by two of his sisters and progressive Carlists, he began to adopt a critical approach to the regime and to gradually steer Carlism from the far right towards social democracy. By the time Franco died, in 1975, this Bourbon prince was openly propounding socialist policies.

The following year, two of his supporters were killed by gunmen who had teamed up with some of the dwindling band of diehards on the Carlist far right, and the need for democratic electioneering in 1977 and 1979 exposed the dreamland of Carlist politics. Carlos Hugo then abandoned his claim and his party, and went to live in the US, where his friend the economist John Kenneth Galbraith had invited him to teach and research at Harvard University, Massachusetts.

Hugues de Bourbon-Parma was born in Paris, the elder son of Don Xavier and Madeleine de Bourbon-Busset. He studied law at the Sorbonne in Paris, and economics at Oxford University. In 1957, his father declared him Prince of Asturias, and he was rebaptised as Carlos Hugo.

At first he tried to occupy a diplomatic middle ground between stubborn traditionalists, forever harking about Carlist feats in the civil war, and progressive liberals who looked forward to the end of the dictatorship. But Franco would not help him to the throne. As he told his cabinet, "I am fond of him, he is courteous and likable, but he does not seem to me to the right person to be king of Spain."

In 1968, as his hopes dimmed and opposition to the regime become more overt and widespread, Carlos Hugo took the calculated risk of becoming more openly critical, and was exiled.

After establishing himself across the border in south-west France, he developed the Carlist policy of socialismo autogestionario (self-managing socialism). According to this programme, post-Franco Spain would be a socialist confederation of self-governing regions, with the country headed by a popular monarch. The monarch had to act as a moral exemplar for all Spaniards and would have to stand down if citizens thought him or her failing in their regal duties.

Though the Carlist party was regarded by many as a serious contender for regional power in the dying years of the dictatorship, the subsequent elections showed it to be but one of the many small parties that failed to win mass support. The idea of the transgenerational "Carlist people", who quietly kept the faith but would declare their allegiance when needed, proved to be a myth.

In 2003, unexpectedly, Carlos Hugo reasserted his claim to the throne and declared his eldest son, Carlos Javier, head of the dynasty. But while a small Carlist party persists, it now bears witness to a historical memory: the days of real Carlist pretenders have gone.

Carlos Hugo's marriage ended in divorce, and he is survived by two sons and two daughters.

The Last Conflict in Europe?

18th Of July...

Flanders & Scotland

All hail Belgium. Plucky little Belgium is now showing the way against the corporatist cardinals of Europe's mother church. On Monday this week the separatist New Flemish Alliance secured most seats in the Belgian assembly. The party leader, Bart de Wever, favours "evolutionary evaporation" of the Belgian state and the emergence of Flanders as a freestanding member of the European Union. Sooner or later, he will get his way.

In 1992 (but on 1 April) the Times published a front-page story pegged to a Belgian public service strike reporting a secret plan for Flanders to rejoin the Netherlands. French-speaking Wallonia would go to France and Brussels become the independent capital of Europe. An editorial remarked that "the dissolution of Belgium comes as a shock", especially as a radio shutdown meant Belgians were "unable to check the date". The paper was inundated by enraged Belgians who, despite producing Magritte and Tintin, lacked a sense of humour.

The Times was 18 years ahead of itself. The joke is coming to pass in the corridors of Brussels. Belgium has been an artificial construct since its invention in 1830. Until recently the Flemish-speaking 6.5 million were dominated by the French-speaking four million in Wallonia. The country never evolved the customary institutions of a unitary state, such as nationwide parties, a single language or a common media and political discourse. Everything was north versus south.

Since the 1980s Flanders and Wallonia have been given ever more devolution, as has the French-speaking Brussels enclave within Flanders. Each round has yielded a desire for more. Over the past two decades Belgium has ceded to Flanders, Wallonia and Brussels services such as health, education, development, agriculture, even foreign trade treaties. Only taxation and social security are national, and these are the proximate cause of Flemings' anger, since their taxes pour south to finance Wallonia's "social dependents".

During the election Wallonia's socialist leader, Elio di Rupo, ignored Europe's economic crisis by calling for ever more transfers from Flanders, for higher state spending on health and pensions and for price controls on food. Belgium is thus a microcosm of the EU, a treaty state in which political entities claim resources by territorial negotiation. The result was inevitable. Just as German taxpayers are finally fed up with subsidising Greek pensioners, so Flemings are fed up with subsidising Walloons.

In these circumstances Belgium's elite has looked to supranational bodies such as Nato and the EU for its status, even as statehood disintegrates beneath its feet. Despite being the battlefield for Europe's wars throughout history, Belgians have no enemies other than themselves. Why should they be expected to cohabit in coalitions that notoriously take months to form and weeks to collapse?

However much Euro-enthusiasts wish it were otherwise, the craving for lower tier self-government refuses to die. Indeed, it is booming. In Scandinavia, Italy, Spain, even the UK, concession after concession is made to devolutionary sentiment. It is made with a patronising nod at the parish-pump quaintness of separatist leaders, dubbed populist, extremist or right-wing, never just democratic.

To the Economist, de Wever is a "populist bruiser". To the Times, his success has "potentially disastrous implications" for Europe. Similar language is used of the Italians' Northern League, Scotland's nationalists and Spain's Catalans. No one says why. To modern Eurocrats, localists are merely below the salt.

Countries dissolve when the political logic that held them together dissolves. There is no reason why an independent Flanders should not be as resilient as Slovakia, Slovenia, Ireland or the Baltic states. Bigness is no guarantee of prosperity, usually the opposite. Big statism is a hangover from 20th-century imperialism and the needs of perpetual war. It is now claimed for globalisation, but as that draws power away from democratic institutions, so the self-governing urge claws it back.

The crisis in the euro was the widely predicted result of the EU's leaders running faster economically than they could ever walk politically. At first they thought they could even out the performance of nations by transferring huge sums from rich to poor. This infuriated the rich and enslaved the poor in dependency. The move from what was a free-trade union to what is touted as a "fiscal-transfer union" has gone beyond what is tolerable to the disparate European electorates who must foot the bill. The euro saga is Belgium times 10.

The European movement now mimics the Roman Catholic church in the 16th century. Its popes and cardinals, in perpetual conclave, fear Protestant dissent on all sides yet do nothing but reassert the dogma of ever-closer union and demand that everyone works for a "better Europe". Rebellious provinces must be suppressed. Any move to democratic referendum, such as in 2005, must be ignored. Top-down edicts pour forth and cash is lavished on subordinate governments. Should a Verdian Don Carlos emerge "to defend the glorious cause of Flanders", he must be wiped out by the Inquisition or ridiculed by the press.

The best analysis of this phenomenon remains Larry Siedentop's Democracy in Europe, which argued, in 2000, that the union was doomed without a legitimacy beyond the synthetic nonsense of the European parliament. Language, geography, history, kinship and customs of consent had to be recognised as the building blocks of a new democracy. Siedentop called for English as the common European language, the evolution of a collective political class, more respect for localism and a European senate. It was not enough to consign national and sub-national identities to a department of minority languages, funny clothes, country dancing and cheese.

The one thing Siedentop did not contemplate, writing still in the 20th century, was that the major premise of his analysis might simply be rejected by Europe's peoples. They might no longer regard it as essential to their security and prosperity to enter a union to finance the spendthrift welfare of Greece and Spain. A new generation might not see the corruption of Brussels as "a price worth paying" to avoid a third world war. Flanders might simply want to rule itself.

Since the debacle of the Lisbon referendums, Euro-pluralism has emerged as proof against ever closer union. The Single European Act of 1986 appears to have been a sort of psychological boundary, beyond which political unity should not have strayed. Go too far, as did the Lisbon treaty, and the threads would snap. Europe would lose touch with its component countries, and they would lose touch with their subnational identities. In extremis, they would face break-up, as have Spain, Austria and now Belgium. The history of enforced European union has, after all, been a long parade of catastrophic dictatorship.

When a country – let alone a continent – lacks the bonds of a collective nationhood it is no longer a country, merely a state. Nations forged in war do not necessarily survive peace. Belgium may retain the trappings of sovereignty, a monarch, an army, a customs union and (perhaps) a football team. But taxes and cross-subsidies will only be acceptable within self-governing communities with a shared sense of co-responsibility, not across whole continents.

Ignoring this maxim is what is sorely testing the eurozone and is breaking Belgium. Nor should the UK think itself immune. Devolution everywhere is a political one-way ticket. After Flanders, Scotland.

by Simon Jenkins

Argentina: 200 Years Today

Global Capitalism (To Goya)

Catalonia in Europe

Catalonia votes on independence

By Sarah Rainsford
BBC News, Catalonia

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

Organised by activists and volunteers, the vote is not officially binding but it is taking place at a tense time in relations with Madrid.

Supporters hope it is the first step towards a formal ballot for a separate state.

Deep in the nationalist heartland of Catalonia, campaigners have been drumming up support for the vote.

In the medieval town of Vic, hundreds of residents have already cast an early ballot at a tent in a corner of the main square.

Many say the autonomy Catalonia already has is not enough, and they are voting "Yes" to independence.

"More and more people think we have no room in the Spanish house, so we need a house of our own," organiser Alfons Lopez Tema says.

"[The Spanish] don't want us, they don't love us, they don't give us what we want. So the best thing is to vote and decide."

'Subversive'

Almost 170 Catalan towns and villages are holding ballots, staffed by thousands of volunteers.

Vic has traditionally favoured independence but the vote will be a first indication of whether views here are spreading.

The referendum has been the topic of daily debate on local radio.

Speaking Catalan on air was forbidden as subversive during General Franco's dictatorship.

Today, it is an official language, used in schools and government, and Catalonia itself has broad autonomy.

But three years ago, people across Catalonia voted for more. They approved a new statute - the law that sets out the relationship between Catalonia and the Spanish state - which defined this part of eastern Spain as a distinct nation.

It gave more jurisdiction to the local authorities and what many believe is a fairer share of the revenue collected.

For the moderate-minded majority of Catalans, that was enough.

The law was approved in a referendum, passed by the Catalan and Spanish parliaments and signed by the king.

“ People are disillusioned by what's happened ”
Vic Radio presenter Joan Turro

But Spain's main opposition party is contesting the statute in the Constitutional Court and many Catalans fear key provisions of the law will soon be overturned.

"People are disillusioned by what's happened. They're fed up. That's why so many are involved in organising this vote," Vic Radio presenter Joan Turro explains during a break in the schedule.

"People here in the interior of Catalonia have always wanted independence. We want this vote to show that it's not just us now."

Many people in Catalonia say they feel different from the rest of Spain, with their own distinct language, culture and history.

Sunday's referendum will test how far that feeling translates into actual support for a separate state.

Economic help

But frustrations about the relationship with Madrid are as much about money as identity.

Home to some 7m people, Catalonia is a prosperous place.

The pretty cobbled streets of medieval Vic are lined with boutiques and alluring delicatessens - industry and agriculture are both strong here.

But many complain that too much of that local wealth is drained away subsidising poorer parts of Spain and the return investment from Madrid is minimal.

A key provision of the new statute adjusted the balance but the improved system has not been implemented yet.

One pig farmer told me he believed breaking away from Spain would help the local economy.

"If you add everything up, we support the rest of Spain and they don't support us," he said, though like many people he struggled to name anything specific Catalonia has missed out on.

National identity

The Catalan government agrees that the balance of payments to Madrid was deeply unjust.

But Finance Minister Antoni Castells says that the new statute does correct that, adding more than 2 billion euros to the local budget this year.

He points out that only one in five Catalans usually express support for independence.

Still, he says, the fight over the statute has frustrated many and left "a strong feeling of disappointment".

For the minister, the thing to watch at this weekend's unofficial referendum is the turnout.

"If it's high, that suggests an increased number of people think the relationship between Catalonia and Spain should be reconsidered, that too many things are not going in a good way and that a lot of people think Spain is not respecting our self-government and our national identity," Mr Castells explains.

Catalans are certainly passionate about their identity.

Back in a smoky bar in Vic, most of the young crowd watching a Barcelona football match on TV have draped themselves in yellow and red Catalan flags.

Their songs in Catalan are a mixture of swearing at Spain and their own national anthem. There is a map of Catalonia on the wall, with the rest of Spain blanked out.

Most voters in this town will clearly say "Yes" to independence.

Free Western Sahara

The Tue Poem

Last night while I was sleeping
I dreamed - blessed illusion! -
a fountain flowed
inside my heart.
Water, tell me by what hidden channel you came to me
with a spring of new life
I never drank?

Last night while I was sleeping
I dreamed - blessed illusion! -
I had a beehive
inside my heart,
and from my old bitterness
the gold bees
were contriving white combs
and sweet honey.

Last night while I was sleeping
I dreamed - blessed illusion! -
a fiery sun glowed
inside my heart.
It was fiery, giving off heat
from a red fireplace.
It was the sun throwing out light
and made one weep.

Last night while I was sleeping
I dreamed - blessed illusion! -
that it was God I had
inside my heart.

Antonio Machado (1875-1939)

Franco and His Generals

Winston Churchill authorised millions of dollars in bribes to stop General Franco from entering the Second World War on the side of Germany, a new book claims.

The British wartime leader persuaded Juan March, a Spanish banker, to act as a secret agent, organising payments of millions of dollars to the generals. In return the generals persuaded Franco not to side with Hitler.

The plot was revealed by the historian Pere Ferrer in Juan March: The Most Mysterious Man in the World, after researching papers in British and US archives.

In the summer of 1940 Churchill was convinced that Spain would enter the war on the side of Hitler after receiving reports that Franco and the Germans were planning to invade Gibraltar. Ferrer has claimed that a British officer, Alan Hillgarth, came up with a plan to bribe the generals, believing that Franco's high command was corrupt and, because they were not paid much, would be open to bribery.

A letter from Lieutenant-Colonel Robert Solborg, a US agent in Portugal, to J. Donovan, the head of strategic services, read: “The Spaniard selected to be the main internal instrument to acquire the political favours of these generals was the rich financier Juan March.”

March, who earned a fortune during the First World War dealing in contraband tobacco, seemed an unlikely ally because during the Spanish Civil War he sided with Franco.

Ferrer said that questions remained as to whether March was a double agent. He claimed that documents suggested March may have stayed in the pay of the Germans while working for the British. When he was approached by the British in 1940, however, March accepted the role. He approached 30 generals who had fought in the Spanish Civil War. Though their sympathies had been with the Nazis they switched sides.

The $10 million bribe money was deposited in a bank account in New York in 1940 but the plot nearly fell apart a year later when the US Treasury thought that March was using the money to support Hitler.

The British Ambassador in Washington convinced President Roosevelt that British military interests depended on the account being unfrozen. The Americans relented and in 1942 alone the generals received between $3 million and $5 million.

The book said that some generals were not simply bought off by bribes - many loathed Franco. In a reference to Franco, General Alfredo Kindelan wrote in his memoirs: “You could sense vertigo in him above all else because, like climbers who go higher than they are able, he felt dizzy from having reached such heights with limited abilities.”

After the Second World War March returned to the sedate life of finance, dying in 1962 aged 82.

Franco and Hitler

— General Franco’s rise to power, leading the Nationalist armies to victory against the Loyalists in the Spanish Civil War, was supported by Hitler’s Germany and Mussolini’s Italy during the 1930s

— Franco’s only meeting with Hitler took place in October 1940 in Hendaia, Basque Country. Hitler refused to offer Franco French colonial possessions in return for Spain’s support in the war. After their meeting, Hitler remarked that he would “as soon have three or four teeth pulled out” as barter with Franco again

— Franco did allow Hitler to use Spanish naval bases during the Second World War. German U-boats were resupplied at its ports and Italian bombers refuelled at its airfields, while Spain helped to build observation posts around Gibraltar for German spies

— Spain declared complete neutrality in 1943, allowing Franco, right, to retain power until 1975, when he died in his bed.