Spanish Shilling

Madrid, like Barcelona and Valencia, has adopted la gentrificacíon, urban renovation where the rents go up, the old joints are closed down or turned into vanity or impulse stores in a system known to Spanish economists as Premium Mediocre – that’s to say, cheaply expensive.

It sounds swell, looks good and costs a little more, whether it’s a Starbucks outlet, bubble coffee, choosing Uber over a taxi, a bottle of designer water, food that photographs better than it tastes, dragon fruit, stores with boiled pick and mix sweets sold by weight or Pistachio chocolate from Dubai… and of course voting Partido Popular (a few years back, it would have been supporting Ciudadanos, eating mangoes and putting watercress in sandwiches).  

My little romantic village of Mojácar has chosen a similar route, with the beach-bars now demolished and re-built in brick, bicycle lanes along the side of the beach-road, children's playgrounds (also invariably located on the beach), and an artful number of parades, fiestas and celebrations to attract the visitors. We have transformed in a short time from bohemian to bourgeois.

I was criticised by a British woman today while attempting to find a parking spot on the playa, because my car was covered in dust. 'Lady', I said, 'I live in a gravel pit'.

If this all means that the rents have gone up, well that's the point! 

Down past the Castellana, on the bit called Paseo de Recoletos, opposite the Biblioteca Nacional de España, is a famous old watering hole called the Café Gijón, founded in 1888. It’s probably Madrid’s most famous joint, along with the Bar Chicote (perennially popular since 1931 for its cocktails), Viva Madrid (where the hep out-of-towners would meet), the good old Cervecería Alemana (there used to be a sign there: ‘We don’t serve hippies. They don’t like us, and we don’t like them’), and there’s the Café Central (for the best live jazz since 1982). 

I used to enjoy the Café Gijón. It was olde-worlde and had mirrors everywhere, a house bootblack, free newspapers in a wooden frame, elderly waiters in white jackets, and an inevitable clutch of poets or philosophers arguing happily between each other while seated around one of the tables (it didn’t run to a bar). Spain used to do these things so well.

I had a French girlfriend back in 1980 when I was living in Madrid. Walking into the Gijón one day, I saw her sitting by herself at a table next to a window and enjoying a coffee. I ambled over and sat down – Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? I asked (those ten years of French at school stood me well with Huguette).

‘Who the hell are you’, she answered – and as it happened she had a point, since it turned out to be somebody entirely different.

Does that ever happen to you?

There’s a scene in La Colmena (a book about the penniless intellectuals in post-war Franco’s times) where a poet drops something on the floor. When he looks up from below – he finds that his marble-topped table is in fact a reversed tombstone mounted on the ornate metal legs of the slab with the inscription of some departed Spaniard inscribed thereon.

All the tables, he discovers looking around, are the same.

Do you remember those old off-white tables, before the Mahou plastic ones came along?

The years pass. Now the Museo Chicote, with its Guinness Book collection of bottles, has a disc-jockey. The Viva Madrid (1856) still sounds good – although it has turned into a cocktail bar, the Cervecería Alemana (1904) the best for ice-cold beers (rich hippies welcome), now only with table service and the Café Central (where you could see jazz greats like Pedro Iturralde and Jorge Pardo), well, the owner just put the rent up, so the jazz bar closes on April 15th to move to El Ateneo de Madrid, just a few minutes away.

As for the Café Gijón, the very best of them all (where I would meet my father when he was in town), the place was closed last year but has now reopened as a more professional operation.

Let’s see what they say: OKDiario gushes with ‘The historic Café Gijón, located on the Paseo de Recoletos, is embarking on a new chapter after its acquisition by the Majorcan Cappuccino Group, a deal that has generated considerable excitement in the city. After months of closure and renovations, the establishment is reopening with a promise to respect its legacy, but also with a necessary update to adapt to modern times…’

Here’s El Mundo: ‘Madrid's Café Gijón reopens, 'asking' for tips in the US style and targeting international luxury tourists’. It says that ‘…The lively conversations that used to fill the afternoons have given way to an offering geared towards high-spending tourists, in which traditional dishes have been replaced by an international menu’.

The bill, when you ask for it, comes with ‘a suggested gratuity’ of 10 or 15% on top.

Now, here in Spain – until yesterday at least – we don’t tip. The staff’s emolument is included in the bill. Half the time, if you do leave the change (a few coins, not more), the boss gets to keep it anyway.

The co-official languages of Spain are a mess.

Firstly – euskara is spoken by nobody outside the three Basque provinces plus  neighbouring Navarra (the Basques think that Pamplona should be their capital, but are stuck with Vitoria, or Vitoria-Gasteiz to be pedantic, which is at least in the right geographical location). All Basques will (and for practical reasons must) speak Spanish. You might get a word or two in Euskara to make the point, but, if nobody understands…

Then there’s galego, a mix of Portuguese and Spanish. There’s aragonés – or fabla – as well (it’s close to extinction apparently). Over to the East, the Catalans like to speak catalán (unless they live in Valencia, where it’s called valenciano). In Valencia, normally Partido Popular territory, they prefer to speak Spanish anyway, and they would no doubt prefer it if I said ‘castellano’.  Indeed, castellano is more like the King’s English; it’s best spoken in Valladolid, while worst savaged in Cádiz.

Catalán has so much baggage, what with that Independence thing, that Miriam Nogueras, the parliamentary spokesperson for Junts del Catalunya, insists on making all her presentations in that language. Since nobody else in las cortes either likes her or cares what she is saying, few deputies bother to plug a pinganillo into their ear for the translation...

Since we got on this subject, I would suggest that el inglés is probably the fourth-spoken idioma in Spain – rising to second place during the summer months.

Having trodden on more than a few toes with the foregoing, I’ll note here that my friend José Antonio Sierra (who founded the Spanish Cultural Institute in Dublin, and served as Director and Cultural Manager of the Instituto Cervantes in Dublin for many years) has been campaigning in Andalucía to get the escuelas oficiales de idiomas, who merrily teach English, French and German, to offer courses in Spain’s minority languages, so far without success.

Easter Week is here and for once the weather is on its best behaviour. Perhaps a few showers up there in Galicia (they seem to enjoy them), but warm and sunny for the rest of Spain.

Which means tourists, visitors, families and an agreeable amount of mayhem and hullabaloo. 

Those city folk who can trace the heritage of a far-off beginning in some abandoned pueblo will be back for a few days, making a fuss of the old people who stayed behind, proudly parking their car in the street which used to be more familiar with donkeys than with SUVs. The old kitchen with the fire lit and an agreeable smell of chicken and sausage (bought yesterday at El Corte Inglés) floats out the door where the menfolk are doing their best to appreciate some home-made wine, el vino casero. It’s rough but it’s honest.  

But most of Spain, plus a generous number of foreign visitors (they’ve wisely cancelled their hols in Turkey or Cyprus and decided on the old standby of España once again) are now on the beach, getting their first rays since last summer.

The locals are performing their processions, La Virgen María is on the move, and the town band is tootling along behind her, providing melancholic or joyous melodies as demanded. Jesús may be carried solemnly from the church once around the square no touchies, and followed by a clutch of old girls in black, but most of us are in the bars, the restaurants and the souvenir shops (which have stayed open late, just for you).

Is Easter a religious or a pagan holiday? Who knows and, with some small but no doubt vocal exception, who cares? 

The cities are another thing again. More crowds taking the week off work, milling about with their perambulators, and then there are the penitents, the nazarenos, often dressed in capirotes (those sinister outfits with the robes and pointy heads) marching down the side streets in columns, briefly posing for the cameras.

Easter is fun. There are special cakes at the bakery – including those wonderful torrijas soaked in milk, egg and sugar then fried (or with sweet wine instead of the milk): it’s a sort of jolly version of French toast, or if your generosity stretches far enough, the Spanish answer to the British hot cross bun.

It’s now the start of the season, and this year Spain is certain to hit its goal of a hundred million foreign tourists (after all, apart from France, where else can they go?). Once the Semana Santa is over, and before the bacchanalia really takes hold, I might be just about able to zip down to the supermarket (and the library) to load up on provisions for the inevitable summer onslaught.

My shopping list reads: beer, bangers and books.

For sure, it’s gonna be a hot one.  

There are two kinds of energy – one that is mined from the earth and the other which comes from the skies (or the lakes). The first is expensive to obtain, is (eventually) limited in supply and is a contaminant.

The other is wind, sun and water: limitless, free and easily harvested.

For a while there, the solar and wind energy were considered such a threat to the oil industry (and its taxes) that the PP government of Mariano Rajoy came up with a ‘Sun Tax’ (2015 – 2018) to disincentivise the solar industry. It was aimed at consumers who would be harvesting their own energy (principally from solar panels) and thus depriving the power company of its due. A bit like growing one’s own tomatoes but still having to pay a levy to the supermarket. Plus, of course, handing over the ones you didn’t eat. 

Silly, really, with all the sun we have here. We read: Spain typically receives over 2,500 to over 3,000 hours of sun annually, while Germany averages around 1,600 to 2,000 hours, and the UK generally receives 1,300 to 1,500 hours.

Back in 2012, Germany’s "Energiewende" (energy transition) and consistent feed-in tariffs spurred massive solar installations, making it the European market leader. The country had more solar power than Spain, despite their cloudy skies. Indeed, it still does today.

Here in Spain, we have plenty of clean energy, but oddly, we are still heavily reliant on oil.

Which has gone up thanks to its scarcity – for reasons to do with faulty politics elsewhere.

Then, the Government steps in to give subsidies, to lower the tax on gasoline from 21 to 10%, and help the farmers, the fishermen and certain other sectors. 

Faced with every oil crisis, says journalist Ignacio Escolar, Spain repeats the same formula: fuel discounts we don't have, paid for with public money we don't have to spare. It's a populist, ineffective, and regressive recipe. A misguided idea that has been backfiring for half a century.

Oil embargos or suddenly heightened prices (usually something to do with middle eastern aggression) are resolved in Spain with a desperate plan to avoid unpopular increases at the pump, meaning discounts which – along the way – would negatively affect Spain’s balance of payments. Consumption therefore remains unchanged, while the evidence to switch to clean fuels (such as electric vehicles) is largely ignored. Spain (normally speaking) has the second lowest taxes on petrol in Europe after Bulgaria – although it’s true that the base price for petrol and diesel varies slightly between countries.

As for electric vehicles, Spain can claim about 5.4% of its fleet to be fully electric (against Germany at 18.4%). ‘Oh, but they take so long to charge up’, you might say. However, it’s an industry that’s changing fast. The latest BYD Flash Charging stations available in China now take five minutes for a full charge.    

Having one’s own solar energy panels, says some bright spark, is a call for independence (imagine if Cuba was thus prepared). Having the entire country run on redeemable energy (if and when) is even more so. Neither coal nor oil to be torn from Mother Earth and turned – in part – into smoke, fumes and toxic pollution. Furthermore, a country like Spain with no domestic oil or gas production, can only keep its imports down with clean energy alternatives.

Today, Spain produces cheaper electricity thanks to renewables, which account for almost 60% of production. “Last Saturday, the price of a megawatt-hour in Spain was 14 euros, compared to more than 100 in Italy, Germany, or France,” boasted Pedro Sánchez at his press conference last week. “Spain is better prepared than almost any other country in our region for this energy shock,” he added. This is only half true.

In renewable electricity production, we have done our homework. Spain gets very good marks. However, in transportation, the failure is absolute.

Nobody wants to take such an unpopular measure as raising gasoline or diesel prices – or allowing them to rise. Electricity in Spain—the wholesale price—is among the cheapest in Europe. There are times, almost every week, when renewable energy production exceeds total demand. And yet, here we are: subsidizing energy we don't have through taxes, instead of investing in the energy we have in surplus.

Relations between Spain and the USA appear to be having a tough moment as the ineffable Yankee president lowers the tone to bar-room talk.

Trump calls Spain a ‘loser’ and warns the United States will not be a ‘team player’.

“Spain? I think they've been very bad” US President Donald Trump, speaking to reporters at the White House on March 11.

“I’m not learning your damn language, I don’t have time”, Trump telling the Latin American presidents (an anecdote that made its way to Spain).

Then there was Spanish-speaking Bad Bunny performing at the Super Bowl (“an affront to the United States”).

All in all, one might be forgiven for considering the MAGAts to be dumb (in the American meaning of the word) and most Europeans tend to take that line.

The USA is not easily comparable to Europe – Spain for example, a large European country, is 35% smaller than Texas. Over there, you can go a long way in your automobile and still be in the same country, eating the same food and watching the same television.

But not all Americans are Republicans, and even less these days are Trump supporters. Perhaps Trump just needs a decent paella and to sit on the beach in Marbella for a few days. Hey, the girls there often go topless.

There are of course, many Americans who love Spain – a country that has long been a favoured destination for American intellectuals. I can think offhand of Orson Welles, James Mitchener, Ernest Hemingway, Washington Irving, Barack Obama, Ava Gardner, Richard Gere, Michael Douglas, Gino Hollander and my old friend and neighbour the late Ric Polansky – who would never knowingly miss a bullfight. 

Spain/US relations have been a case of love and hate. Spain after all was long there before the USA was even a glimmer in the eye of George Washington (seen here crossing the Potomac).

Puerto Rico, Florida, California, Texas and so on were all once held by Madrid.

The Americans backed Cuba when it revolted against its overlords in 1898 leading to the Spanish–American War which soon cost Spain most of its remaining empire: Cuba, Puerto Rico, Guam and The Philippines. 

Washington supported the Nationalists during the Francoist uprising, with the later comment from Madrid: ‘without American petroleum and American trucks, and American credit, we could never have won the Civil War’.

But that was then, now we are all happily united under the Nato flag.  

Donald Trump evidently has a grim view of Spain, as do (and must) his toadies. Lindsey Graham thinks that they should withdraw their two military bases in Seville and Cádiz and another, the foreign policy analyst Michael Rubin, suggests American support for Morocco to annex Melilla and Ceuta (with their combined population of 170,000).

While we are on the subject, there was even a plan, back in the 1890s, to invade and occupy the Canary Islands. Maybe somebody in the Pentagon could dust that one off.

Political pressure comes these days from the US embassy, warning its citizens to avoid Spain’s upcoming protests over ‘recent events in the Middle East’. On a happier note, the Madrid leader (and arch-conservative) Isabel Díaz Ayuso says she intends to celebrate the coming 250th anniversary of American independence on the 4th of July.

It certainly sounds fun.

Donald Trump evidently supports Spain’s far-right parties and receives homage from them in return. This may not be doing them a favour, as the Iran mission is far from popular here.

President Sánchez says: ‘¡No a la Guerra!’. Over in Hollywood, Javier Bardem echoed the sentiment at the Oscars: ‘No to War and Free Palestine’, earning ‘a huge round of applause’.

In Spain, they know a dictator when they see one. Giving in to one, whichever one, is out of the question.

I see we have been recently blessed with an alarming number of Döner Kebab outlets. My little Shangri-La has six (!) of them and Turre, the pueblo up the road, has another three.

Garrucha Port has eight of them (who needs fish?).

Indeed, the whole of Spain appears to be stiff with them. 

Is this the end of the late night pizza and the bocadillo filled with battered squid rings?

I checked with Google, which shrugged its shoulders helplessly. In Germany, there are 16,000 of them. Queues stretching around the block. In Spain, ¿quien sabe?

Another answer from Google says: 'Kebabs can be a healthy, high-protein meal, particularly when choosing grilled chicken or lean meat skewers served with vegetables and pita. However, commercial döner kebabs are often high in saturated fat and sodium, potentially exceeding daily allowances. Healthiness depends on meat quality, portion size, and sauce choices'. 

The BBC is equally catty: '...Last year food scientists for Hampshire county council found that döner kebabs were the fattiest takeaways. One contained 140g of fat, twice the maximum daily allowance for women, and the calorific equivalent to a wine glass of cooking oil. And 60% of the kebabs tested were high in trans fat, which raises cholesterol levels...'

Later it says: 'Research by the UK's Food Standards Agency in 2006 found that 18.5% of döner takeaways posed a "significant" threat to public health, and 0.8% posed an "imminent" threat...'

But that was in England twenty years ago. What about Spain in 2026?

Are they worth a try?

No doubt a good one is a culinary delight, especially with that yummy yoghurt sauce and some salad - however I imagine that restauranteurs blinded by the bright lights of commerce might find it easy to, er, cut corners. 

The last one I had was around 40 years ago. It was pretty tasty as I recall.

It's time I had another go. Maybe wash it down with a beer. 

But which one of them all is the very best? I suspect that I am only going to risk it the one time...

One of the most prominent memories in the Spanish scrapbook, along with the picture of the caudillo under the heading ¡Españoles, Franco ha Muerto! and another of the rebel Guardia Civil Antonio Tejero firing his revolver into the ceiling of Las Cortes, the Spanish Parliament, would be the smiling and unctuous photograph of José María Aznar along with Tony Blair and George W Bush at their meeting in the Azores on the eve of the (Second) American Gulf War and invasion of Iraq twenty three years ago this month.

Aznar paid dearly (as did Spain) for getting this country involved in a foreign adventure, especially so a year later on March 11 2004 when Arab terrorists planted some bombs in the local Madrid railway system, killing 193 people and wounding some 2,000 more.

Aznar compounded his error by blaming the wrong set of assassins, the Basque ETA group rather than Al Qaeda. This cost his party the general election just two days later, allowing the PSOE leader José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero to become the new president of Spain.

One of his first acts was to reverse Spain’s participation in the war against Saddam.

The question of course now arises – what policy would an actual PP/Vox government have taken following the current Israeli/American attack against Iran?

As we don’t have such a leadership, let us look instead at Pedro Sánchez.

I like a quote of his: ‘Spain opposes this catastrophe. Because we understand that governments are there to improve people’s lives, to solve problems, not to worsen them. And it is unacceptable that leaders who are incapable of fulfilling this task use the smokescreen of war to mask their incompetence and line the pockets of a select few’.

Donald Trump answered this by saying something like – ‘who needs Spain anyway?’

That remains to be seen; as much of the European Union, after a certain hesitation, now appears to agree with Sánchez. Although, you see, there’s Feijóo ‘and his Mariachis’ who of course continue to see themselves as vassals of Trump. A plan which is not playing well with much of the Spanish electorate.

Why do the conservatives here (with their allies in the Media) always try and sink the Spanish ship of state?

68% of Spaniards, says El País, say they are against Trump and Netanyahu’s war, with 23% being in favour. Even El Mundo (a conservative newspaper) can’t do much better, with 62% against the war (although we are told in the same headline that those respondents prefer China to the USA).

We see that the right-wing’s patriotism, it seems, has exceptions. It works against immigration, against separatists, against the left, against anyone who doesn't subscribe to the right's short-sighted view of Spain. But it vanishes the moment a thug with an American flag arrives and orders everyone to stand at attention.

Sánchez says – before we all cry ¡No Pasarán! – ‘The people must be aware that what may happen to their wallets has nothing to do with the decisions of the Spanish Government, but with a war in Iran that is illegal and that will bring much suffering.”

We’ve already seen the rise in petrol prices and the next electric bill won’t be far behind.

The Guardian reckons that Pedro Sánchez is ‘one of the very few European leaders to openly and emphatically reject the demands of a US president whose trademark negotiating style is an erratic mix of bullying, humiliation and self-aggrandisement’.

The war (or invasion) has had some bad press, from torpedoing an apparently unarmed Iranian frigate in international waters, to callously bombing a girls’ school with at least 165 children dead. Then there was the obscene prayer-meeting in the Oval Office (our fundamentalists are better than their fundamentalists) as ‘non-commissioned officers were elsewhere being told that the Iran war is part of God’s plan and that President Donald Trump was “anointed by Jesus to light the signal fire in Iran to cause Armageddon and mark his return to Earth”’. Not my Jesus, Buddy. 

Let’s give Sánchez the last word: ‘Es un orgullo ser español. Por defender lo que defendemos ante la barbarie y ante la guerra’. It is a source of pride to be Spanish. For defending what we defend in the face of barbarism and war.

No doubt I'll have to update this essay... (just sayin')

From the Spanish and international media...

The big news this week is the weekend Israeli and US attack on Iran (with the apparent support of France, Germany and the UK) and the consequences thereof. Spain has two US bases, Morón de la Frontera (Seville) and Rota (Cádiz). The Iranian ambassador to Spain said on Monday that his country considered any offensive base in Europe to be a legitimate target. The Spanish Government has insisted that it won’t participate in the adventure and warned the Americans not to involve the bases in any aggression. Spain’s Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez openly condemned the US and Israeli strikes on Saturday, warning that they could heighten regional tensions and “contribute to a more uncertain and hostile international order.” He later noted that "One can stand both against a hateful regime and an unjustified attack." El País in English says that the USAF has now moved its tanker planes elsewhere.

Around 30,000 Spaniards are currently in the Middle East. On Tuesday, ‘Minister Albares confirmed that "the evacuation operations" of Spaniards in the Middle East are already underway’. 

Infobae says that ‘Pedro Sánchez has once again emerged as the lone dissenting voice in the EU's Middle East crisis cabinet following the attack on Iran. The region is entering an escalation with "unpredictable" consequences. The Spanish leader has positioned himself as the critical voice in Europe in response to the attack by Washington and Tel Aviv’. EuroNews says on Monday that ‘Spain rejects Israel's accusation of “standing with Iran” and other tyrants’.

So, is Spain on ‘the right side of history’? The Israeli foreign minister for one thinks not.

From Business Insider here: 'The US president lashes out at the Spanish government for not allowing him to use the Rota and Morón military bases during the military operation against Iran. Donald Trump this (Tuesday) afternoon launched a scathing attack against Spain and the government of Pedro Sánchez, even ordering Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent to initiate an "economic war" live on air. "We're going to cut all trade ties with Spain. We don't want anything to do with Spain," he told the press…’

Well then, it’s lucky that Spain is in the EU.

From RTVE here: ‘The Spanish government, responding to Trump's threat to cut off trade with Spain: "He will have to respect international law"’. The Lad Bible says: ‘Spain's PM fires back at Donald Trump over threat to 'cut all trade' for not helping US military. Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez has accused Donald Trump of instigating the breakdown of international law’.

Opinion from elDiario.es here: ‘Trump Returns the Spanish Flag to the Left. A leftist today can embrace a civic, pluralistic, democratic, respectful, empathetic patriotism committed to international law. This gift of the Spanish flag to the left would never have been possible without the invaluable collaboration of the PP and Vox, who have become satellites of the MAGA movement’.

The PP here and Vox here both say that Sánchez is on the side of the ayatollahs.

The Daily Telegraph ends a hostile editorial on Sánchez with ‘…For what it’s worth, my guess is that Trump has better things to do with his time than give Spain the kicking it fully deserves, and will simply content himself with publicly lambasting its useless leader’.

From 20Minutos here: ‘China defends Spain after Trump's threat: "Trade should not be used as a weapon"’ (with video).

It's early days, but this sneak attack by Trump and Netanyahu will likely not end well. 

*I look forward to comments on this one. 

Each Western power (at least, the ones in Europe) has a far-right political party which will fight tooth and nail, by fair means and foul, to gain ascendency in the national politics.

Here in Spain, it’s Vox (there are a few others, but currently of no interest). The party today has 33 deputies in the Spanish parliament making it the third largest group. These include their po-faced spokesperson Pepa Millán and the nephew of the disgraced conservative politician Rodrigo Rato, the oddly inept José María Figaredo (known as Frigodedo by his detractors).

Vox began in 2013, when its leader Santiago Abascal dropped his membership in the Partido Popular to start a fresh far-right party. Santi (as he is called by his supporters) is a handsome-looking fellow, and instead of sporting a wild hair-style, like Donald Trump, Boris Johnson or Geert Wilders, he is well-groomed, has a short beard, and – when the cameras are willing – he might jump on a horse in a manly sort of way. In short, he’s more of a Putin than a clown. 

All of the original founders of Vox have since squabbled with Abascal and have left politics – as Iván Espinosa de los Monteros, Macarena Olona, Rocio Monasterio, Víctor Sánchez del Real, Juan Luis Steegman… and now (hanging by his fingertips), Javier Ortega Smith – the Vox spokesperson in the Madrid City Hall, best remembered for swimming into Gibraltar in 2016 and raising – briefly – a Spanish flag on the rock there.

Ignacio Garriga is the party Secretary General, a highly religious man born in Catalonia with a Spanish/Belgian father and an Equatoguinean mother. For obvious reasons, he will have reached his zenith with his current position and is no threat to his boss.  

The party is present in the European Parliament – led by a man who came from the moribund Falange Española de las JONS and a lookalike for the baddie in the first Indiana Jones film called Jorge Buxadé. Vox is aligned with the Patriots for Europe (Fidesz, Rassemblement National, Vlaams Belang and others: parties in thrall to Donald Trump).

Vox is also found in most of the regional governments and many town halls – usually either in an uneasy alliance with the Partido Popular or sniffily standing aside. Says Abascal regarding any deal to be made post-elections in the two regions of Extremadura or Aragón: ‘The PP wants to treat us like savages’, he says. If they fail to come to an arrangement – and Vox increased its number of councillors in both elections – then the regions will need to call for fresh elections. The next regional ballot, with a similar PP/Vox forecast, is Castilla-León later this month.

The party program is simple enough: old school nationalism, tradition, Catholic, anti-immigrant, unimpressed by women’s issues and global warming, and in favour of lower taxes. The party does well with young men (who are apparently concerned that women have too many rights and protections). It’s also popular in the countryside, particularly in the provinces of Murcia, Almería and Cádiz (where there are lots of foreign immigrants working the fields: people – needless to say – who don’t have the Vote). Those underprivileged folk who back the ‘ultras’ are sometimes known as ‘los fachapobres’ – that’s to say, the poor fascists.

'Make España Great Again' could be its slogan, although Santi rarely wears a vulgar baseball-cap. 

Vox is in some ways merely an extension of the Partido Popular (which has recently been moving to the right in an attempt to claw back support), and notable extremists within the PP include Isabel Díaz Ayuso (president of the Madrid region) and the PP deputy Cayetana Álvarez de Toledo.

There’s been another thorn in Abascal’s side down in Murcia, where José Ángel Antelo the alarmingly tall Vox leader there had fallen into disapproval with head office, and (like Ortega Smith above) wouldn’t leave his post. Earlier this week, the rest of the regional party councillors voted together for his summary ejection as leader and spokesperson.

As one headline says with satisfaction: ‘The far right is slowly devouring itself while selling order and discipline to its supporters’. Another is of more concern: ‘Centralized command and a personality cult: Abascal sidelines critics and completes his vision for the new Vox’.

Nevertheless, it doesn't look like this party will go the way of Ciudadanos or Podemos in the near future.