Spanish Shilling

The story begins with the AP reporting that ‘Spain rejects NATO’s anticipated 5% defence spending proposal as unreasonable’. All for one and one for all. Indeed, Trump’s insistence on a major defence budget works well in Washington, since most of the arms come from American factories. However, the NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte seemed to have accepted over the weekend that Spain is different and agreed to a 2.1% limit for España.

How did Sánchez manage this?

Certainly, Alberto Núñez Feijóo, the leader of the Partido Popular, would like to know. Sánchez replies in a tweet – ‘Here you go, Alberto, get someone to translate the letter from Rutte into Spanish for you’. Good fun (Alberto is no linguist).

On Monday, the NATO secretary general Mark Rutte told Donald Trump that ‘all the NATO allies have agreed to spend 5%’.

El HuffPost however reported on Tuesday that ‘Belgium and Slovakia join Spain in defending their "sovereign right" to limit their defence spending before NATO. These NATO member countries reject increasing their contributions and demand "flexibility" at the summit being held in The Hague’.

The New York Times quotes the American president: “They’re having a problem with Spain,” Mr. Trump said on Tuesday. “Always a problem with Spain. Spain’s not agreeing, which is very unfair to the rest of them”.

El Mundo says that ‘Allies revolt against Sánchez and his "bad example" in NATO: "Many countries are not happy with Spain". Spain's stance contrasts sharply with the commitment made by Germany, France, and the United Kingdom, which have announced their intention to embrace the 5% defence spending target’.

The left-wing Nueva Tribuna on the other hand thinks that Spain should leave the organisation entirely: ‘It's not national defence, it's business. If the United States wants to maintain NATO as an aggressive and feudalized organization to provide billions in revenue to its military industry, it is urgent that good and patriotic people, led by the Spanish military, urgently demand that NATO be abandoned’.

A graphic shows how much of their GDP each NATO country has been paying to date.

Trump says he will punish Spain with fresh tariffs. 'I'll have them paying double' he says. 

Feijóo would have caved in and gone with the 5%, says Sánchez.  

The Final Word here: ‘Sánchez reaffirms that the 2.1% military spending limit is sufficient despite NATO's doubts: "It's not an arbitrary figure"’.

Thinking about it later, Trump's blitz on the Nato allies earlier this week was like a thug barging into a shopping mall, saying to each outlet - pay up or else. When Spain said no, it got the heavy threats. It looked to me like a protection racket (I read a lot of crime novels). 

Languages – especially those that one doesn’t speak – are an eternal problem for us all. It’s really quite tiresome to have to listen to someone yattering away in a foreign tongue, and even worse when they decide that speaking louder might help.

And thus, the dismay from many of the Spanish, faced with a foreign tourist (or sometimes even a resident) as everyone finally must resort to pantomime.

Pity the poor woman who bought an apartment in Tenerife and finds she must bring along a translator for the regular community meetings. For some reason or other, this local woman doesn’t speak German – which is the majority language spoken in that particular block of flats located in Santa Úrsula.

There are a lot of foreigners living in Spain – something like 19% of the population. Most of them speak perfect Spanish (think: 4.2 million Latin Americans plus many others). Most of the rest of us can get by (short of sudden visits to the hospital or the lawyer, when one finds one’s vocabulary begin to fail).

Then there are all those tourists flopping around – most of whom simply know nothing much beyond una cerveza and (usually spelt wrong while pronounced perfectly), ¡hola! 

Maybe if I speak louder. Anyway, I ordered a sandwich, what on earth is this?

In winter, it’s easy for us guiris to distance ourselves from the trippers. We wear long trousers and a sweater while they are in t-shirt and shorts.

They’ll be pinker too – we know all about the power of the sun.

Summer’s a problem though – perhaps we’ll flex our linguistic muscle and order un tinto de Verano. That’ll show ’em.

Some of our leaders here in Spain are also challenged by ‘foreign’ languages. Isabel Díaz Ayuso walked out of a meeting of Spain’s regional presidents the other day when one of them spoke in Catalán (How Dare He?), and then there's Feijóo’s lack of languages and Abascal’s comic recent attempt at speaking French.

A waiter needs to speak English to get a decent tip; but a politician can – as Feijóo says – always finds an interpreter.

The gangs of roving tourists are a problem in the cities, as anyone who lives and works in Madrid, Barcelona, Granada or Seville must know, as the local folk on their way to and from work or to the supermarket must zigzag around unconscious groups of culture-vultures.

Some of our younger and more impressionable neighbours with itchy trigger-fingers have taken to arming themselves with water pistols and anyone pink over five foot eight (173cms) and wearing flip-flops might receive an unwanted squirt. Indeed, some Spaniards are so angry, they’ve been using ‘super-soakers’ (the assault-weapon of water-pistols. I believe Amazon sells them).

The answer is to choose a holiday in those resorts that are geared to tourism. A jolly time to relax rather than a hurried visit to some city crammed with camera-shots, selfies and a guide yapping on about squeezing in just one more palace before lunchtime.

There are no water-pistol shops to be found in Benidorm or Marbella and everyone there speaks English.

You know something?

Business is good.

This post will need updating during the week...

Last week, the Government took an enormous hit after a senior party deputy was found to be partnered in with Jose Luis Ábalos and the fixer Koldo García in a corruption deal that swapped construction-contracts (mainly from the multinational Acciona) for cash.

The deputy in question was the right-hand of Pedro Sánchez, whose post was ‘Secretary of Organization of the PSOE’, a post he took over from his sacked predecessor, the above-mentioned José Luis Ábalos in 2021.

The moment the story broke, Pedro Sánchez did what he had to do by demanding the immediate resignation of Santos Cerdán from his post and from the PSOE. Sánchez himself emphasized this in his press conference by stating that, sad to say, there is no such thing as "zero corruption", in this world but at least in the PSOE there is "zero tolerance" for any serious evidence of corruption.

"…It causes me enormous indignation and profound sadness to see that an entire project that millions of people trust and depend on can be affected by the conduct of a few," he lamented. "The response to this kind of behaviour will always be forceful, regardless of the enormous disappointment I have experienced today".

Mind you, Rajoy was saying something similar when the corruption in his Partido Popular government first rose to the surface in 2014.

“There will be no elections before 2027” said Sánchez, whether as a promise or a prayer, as that confidence may be too hard to swallow. Will Koldo García – whose secret recordings, now in the hands of the UCO fraud police, where past deals and conversations are now being leaked to the media – produce any more bombshells?

The turnaround consisted of demanding Cerdán's resignation as secretary of the PSOE organization and his resignation as a member of Congress; announcing a restructuring of the Ferraz executive committee at the federal committee meeting to be held on July 5 in Seville; and commissioning an external audit to rule out any suspicion of irregular financing within the party. Whether that will be enough… and whether the secret recordings in the hands of the UCO will produce any further revelations.

A point worth making is that we all know that corruption – easy money – can and does appear in both socialist and conservative parties; but to my mind, a corrupt socialist is worse – he is stealing from the people, whereas corruption in conservative circles is somehow less of a surprise and almost part of the game and something to be expected.

The worry is that Spain could fall, via an autumn election, into the hands of a PP/Vox combination. If the Partido Popular could go it alone, then maybe Spain could continue to move forward, but with a far-right anti-EU party wagging the dog, such a prospect would be a disaster. Indeed, a snap poll carried out over the weekend unsurprisingly gives both the PP and Vox a push at the expense of the PSOE. Highly aware of this threat, the junior parties within the Government are wriggling on the hook. Not happy, but they know that they will have to keep in line.

The difference between the two parties is in evidence. A socialist gets caught, he gets fired. Whereas on the other side… Ayuso in Madrid up to her neck in shady deals (the last PP leader, Pablo Casado, was thrown under the bus when he accused her of corruption). Valencia’s Carlos Mazón remaining as a willing millstone around Feijóo’s neck. Indeed Feijóo was in Valencia last week to congratulate Mazón over his administration of the DANA and to bless the budget agreement arranged together with Vox in their regional government.

The Government is now living day to day in a state of entrenchment in the face of the more than evident judicial and media campaign being carried against it.

On Monday afternoon, in a meeting with the press, the President insisted that his project would continue.

Pedro Sánchez now says he will submit to questions in Congress on July 9th. But can he and his project last that long?

If things go wrong (perhaps following further unwelcome revelations from the police), like the Portuguese prime minister before him (later exonerated of any corruption), Sánchez will likely end up in a senior role in Europe.

It’s the time of the year when some of the pueblos in my small corner of Spain celebrate their various Moors and Christians festivals. How close to marking a factual date, or just because it was otherwise going to be a quiet weekend, is unclear. But apparently in 1488, Mojácar fell to the Christian forces. Next-door Vera on the one side of us and Carboneras just over the mountain on the other side also fell this (or maybe next) weekend some 537 years ago. As I write this, all three towns have been enjoying their processions, fabulous costumes, bands playing waily-waily music and lots of thunder-flashes going off – loud enough to wake the dead. Indeed, to add to the fun, Vera town hall has thrown in a bullfight as well.

And don’t forget, Carboneras (I find that it starts this coming weekend) has a castle for that extra bit of verisimilitude.

The whole idea began down our way in around 1988 (appropriately, the fifth centenary of the final push towards Granada, a ‘reconquista’ which swept through our area in that year). The costumes and celebrations come (usually rented in our case) from the Alicante town of Alcoy, which has apparently been honing its medieval armour since King Jaume of Valencia passed through there with his forces in 1276.

Mojácar’s festival is different, according to our recently-invented tradition, in that the Christian captain and the Moorish mayor are said to have sunk their differences over a glass of dandelion tonic down at the Fuente, and agreed that we – or rather they – were all Spaniards together and, by the way and in case you wondered, the road to Granada is over there, just past that algarrobo. As the Town Hall’s blurb puts it ‘…when we tell them of the story of that peaceful surrender of the city, they are surprised. It's a festival without victors or vanquished’.

This year, the fiesta had been extended an extra day and now runs Thursday through Sunday. When pueblos find that they are on to a good thing, visitor-wise, they often add an extra day or two. The Almería City’s saint’s day in August, for example, runs for nine days straight.

Peculiar that, considering that very few visitors make their way to the Big Al. Their surrender to the Christians, meanwhile, falls rather unfortunately on December 26th – where other, jollier celebrations are already going on.

We went up to the village on Thursday evening, to find that things hadn’t really got going. The different hard-board castles or kabilas, or whathaveyous were there, pressed back to back in the reduced area of the pueblo (Mojácar: a small and ancient town perched on a hill), all equipped with the 21st century equivalent of record players. Eight different venues for the seven groups loosely divided into Moors or Christians (generally speaking, the Moors are the PSOE and the Christians are the PP because, even in a small village, one must divide into still smaller peñas to belong).

The foreigners? Well some of them have joined in, above all, those who can afford to rent a costume. 

I’ve been to a few Moors and Christians festivals over the years. The tinier villages in the mountains may be a bit quieter – with a costumed fellow on horseback declaiming a major chunk of poetry to his be-turbaned antagonist before the hired band lets go with a selection of modern pop songs and we all, locals and those who moved years ago to Almería City but still have a house here, move en masse to the tin chiringuito for a beer and something chewy on the hot-plate. One village popular with the foreigners, Bédar, used to feature a chap on a donkey wrapped in a table-cloth, another wearing the uniform of a military service private soldier seated on a Mobylette, plus someone from the Town Hall to help with the ancient poetry. ‘Avast, thou Moor, for this is a Godly Kingdom…’

Gouts of this stuff. Think ‘The Merchant of Venice’. And then cue the fireworks, and down to the bar. 

Mojácar on Thursday evening was fairy crowded but the various kabilas hadn’t got going, so we sat in the main square at a table with someone we knew, together with a man from Tipperary, whose accent, alas, was too impenetrable for my poor German companion, plus a very nice lady dressed in a disturbing Goth outfit. To make up the party, there was a large and unchained parrot, who was nodding appreciably in time to the distant drums.

After a couple of schooners of gin and a Donner Kebab – Mojácar suddenly has a number of these establishments – we went home (there’s a secret route that the traffic police for some reason haven’t found).

For these affairs, I used to wear my old djellaba (a sort of gentleman’s nighty with a hood), a souvenir of a long-ago trip to Morocco. But I can’t find it now, I think it must have gotten thrown out.

On the second evening, Friday, we decided to take the bus up to the village – a performance which proved to be painless. We could see cars parked all the way up and all the way down again. Our bus-driver let us off just below the square.

By now, the party was well and truly underway. Many townsfolk were in their costumes and several carried with them a type of arquebus (or maybe a hand-cannon) called un trabuco, which, as far as I can see, they will fire off whenever they see a defenceless earhole. The different barracks were doing trade, one with a magnificent group of brass musicians from Alicante wearing fezzes. The wine was flowing and luckily the busses were still running when we finally made our adieus.

Saturday was a quiet day for us, with the windows firmly closed – and the air-conditioner on full – to help keep the explosions, bangs, drum-rolls, trumpets and shrieks away.

The last day of the festival was Sunday.

We took the bus once again, this time so overcrowded, the driver could barely close the door. We then lounged about for a couple of hours, with a few drinks to refresh ourselves, in keen anticipation of the oncoming parade.

Which was fantastic.

I think they must rent the costumes from some crafty fellow in Alicante who is making himself a small fortune. They were both beautiful and dramatic. More and more warriors (and princesses and some heavily armed children) passed slowly and regally by, with musicians accompanying each of the seven kábilas.  The whole parade took over ninety minutes and probably had anything up to a thousand participants.

Following this stupendous experience, everyone else went home, while we settled on another glass of wine and a bowl of patatas bravas.

The Mojácar mayor had this to say:  

‘In many other cities, the confrontation is recreated. In Mojácar, we celebrate mutual respect. And that, in these times, is more valuable than ever’.

The next hand is now being played, with a non-party demo to be held in Madrid this Sunday. It’s been called by Alberto Núñez Feijóo, after his plan to persuade the smaller support parties to give way and allow him a vote of confidence against the Government failed to attract any takers between the minor groups (understandably, since Vox wants to illegalise some of them).

The protest, and I kid you not, is called ‘Mafia or Democracy’.

Feijóo, the PP leader, wants his go at being president, even though this would absolutely mean an alliance with Vox. He issued his call for the demonstration on the same day as yet another ex-party deputy, the enabler for the last Minister of the Interior, was admitted to jail.

His particular crimes were money-laundering, criminal organisation and selling on private information.

Feijóo’s call for Mafia or Democracy also happened on the day when Ayuso’s boyfriend was finally corralled and is now to be challenged by the Court over his manoeuvres to avoid paying tax (around €350,000) on the Covid masks he sold to some of those town halls that were buying in an understandable panic back in 2020.

Madrid is a bastion of the Partido Popular, and one could expect many people to turn out for the protest: José Maria Aznar says he’ll be there, along with Mariano Rajoy (whose last government collapsed because of, precisely, corruption), even Valencia’s Carlos Mazón says he won’t be passing up the chance to show his face among friends.

Madrid’s regional leader Isabel Díaz Ayuso has her hands full, as another court is attempting to interrogate three of her captains about the Protocols of Shame – the emotive name given to the decision to leave the elderly closed off in the residences without medical attention during the Covid crisis (7,291 died).

But no doubt, she will be there too.

The suggestion that the PSOE is the party described as being corrupt is collapsing by the day, with little to show for it – both Sánchez’ wife and his brother, and the Attorney General now almost completely off the hook. The latest scandal for the delight of the Opposition (and the private TV channels) is about an ex local politician from the PSOE and journalist called Leire Díez found to be (privately) investigating the ‘Patriotic Police’ (sic) regarding their subversive activities down the years. Elsewhere, we read that the Guardia Civil are carrying out their own investigation into ‘the Patriotic Police’.

‘Mafia or Democracy’. Is this going to be Feijóo’s final attempt to scold the Government (he’s called five protests so far) before his party congress in early July?

As The Weenie’s Leapy Lee says (repeatedly), ‘you really couldn’t make it up’.  

Later: Watching the RTVE, which claims 55,000 present at the protest (including people bussed in from other parts of Spain) we were treated to Feijóo talking about the corrupt government of Sánchez and the ‘decency’ of the Partido Popular. He called for fresh elections.

Oscar López, the leader of the PSOE in Madrid, noted that ‘they filled the Plaza de España with hatred and insults, but not with people’.