Placebo

This week's Camino a Ítaca falls on Election Silence day, the blackout period when parties can no longer campaign before tomorrow's elections here in Spain. Autonomous communities and towns are up for grabs on Sunday and a particular sign on the street caused me to think. Click over to read the original version published in el HOY in Spanish or read the English version below. (PDF en castellano abajo)

The sign on the street said it with more barefaced, outright clarity than I had yet seen. There was no forced smiling face, no innovative ideas and not even the slightest attempt was made to masquerade behind any semblance of thought or individuality. It was as blatant as could be.

Vote for party X.

There on a street corner, the blighted, corrupt nature of Spanish politics was on full display, replete in a blue bus stop sign.

There wasn’t an idea in sight, nor any indication that there ever would be. It was the visual equivalent of a sugar pill placebo, with no active properties, being administered to the infirm. Take this and don’t question what ‘this’ is. It doesn’t matter. Just believe in our brand, take it and everything will somehow be alright.

There on that billboard was a question of faith rather than of democratic inquiry. It was the power and dominion of political parties in this country on full display and a shining example of the sheer brutality of their hegemony obviating independence of thought.

The streets have been colorful for the past two weeks with the primary colors of the national political parties flashing from lampposts. The political equivalents of Nike, Netflix or Apple flapping in the breeze, pleading to their faithful users to continue confiding in their collective, extraterritorial ineptitude.

Because when you cast a vote for the closed lists of these national giants, you automatically delegate decisions to Madrid. The parties’ regional representatives can claim to be independent regionalists and can even go so far as to purport to be progressive. Like the blue candidate who has stated in the press that she supposedly draws the line at the gains made by women and LGBTQ2+ collectives and supports their cause.

But the reality remains that the national party she represents reeks overwhelmingly like a burning bush. One that consistently takes any measure that contravenes atavistic laws dictated by a vengeful skygod that were written on stone tablets by bronze-aged Israelite stenographers to the Supreme Court. Even if she doesn’t base her values on pre-germ theory criteria, any contradiction of these primeval norms will always be overturned at the national level.

Then there is the prepollent party that has been in power in Extremadura for more than three decades. A party that, in more than a generation, has been unable to convincingly convey to Madrid the utter and complete exasperation felt by the inhabitants who live in what is in effect a second-class region. A region unable to aspire to services that other communities take for granted.

While trains combust and funds that should be destined here get derived to other parts of the country that support the coalition, rather than protest daily in front of the Moncloa, not even a strongly worded email is sent in dissent to the party leaders.

Today is a day to reflect, to think about the past, to ponder the future and examine where we foresee our cities and region developing. That paper tomorrow is a choice. One that can mean the ongoing outsourcing of decision making and the tired same old same old. Or it can mean a chance at something new.

Interior Colonialism

It's election season here in Spain, with most of the country's autonomous regions, cities and town up for grabs. The region newspaper I contribute to asked me for my view on the upcoming elections. Rather than examine the promises that are never kept, I looked at the hegemony of the party system here in Spain and the lack of accountability this creates. Click over to read the original version in Spanish in el HOY or read the English version below. (PDF en castellano abajo)

I’m from a former colony in what has been called the new world. It’s a sparsely populated land of vast resources and immense natural wealth. Its raw materials were first harvested by Europeans on behalf of the French and then were handed over to the English. In exchange, Canada got a foreign monarchy that it still has not fully emancipated from.

And while the recently crowned Carlos is still nominally the head of state of this G8 country, the British no longer reap all its natural wealth for their sole benefit. Now, our outsized neighbors to the south have picked up where the English left off. Now the Americans happily extract Canada’s resources and then sell them back with value added once they have been transformed. Thus shifting the country’s natural wealth from its place of birth elsewhere.

It's an age-old colonialist tale of pillage and plunder. One that should sound very familiar to someone from Extremadura. For this land too has been drained, literally in the case of the reservoirs, by external powers in a process of interior colonialization for centuries. 

In the forty years since this Autonomous region was created, it has been controlled by external parties and its destiny has never fully been its own. Two political parties have been in control that ostensibly have a base here, but whose real power base emanates from Madrid. Extremadura has never come of age politically or economically due to this continued reliance on decisions made in offices in Ferraz or, briefly, Genova.

As the elections approach, it’s long past time to move out from mom and dad’s house and emancipate. To be beholden to no one other than the inhabitants of the region. To act, not according to what is good for a national party, but for the good of the people who live and raise their families here. To be represented by independent voices, free from backroom deals and tradeoffs made elsewhere.

Colonies adapt and then evolve and there comes a time when outside help is no longer wanted or even necessary. Extremadura needs to trust in itself.

Trapped... in a List

In this week's Camino de Ítaca a different look at the upcoming regional and municipal elections here in Spain. A long term emmigrant's perspective on voting here in Extremadura. Click over to read the original article publishhed in el HOY in Spanish or read the English version below. (PDF en castellano abajo)

Democracy exists somewhat as a textbook word for me. It’s something that I have learned about, somewhat understand and strongly believe in. But it’s also something I have rarely been able to actually take part in. That’s because for most of my adult life I’ve lived abroad, politically exiled by both countries I hold passports to.  

Both Canada, the country of my birth, and the United Kingdom, the land of my father’s birth, are suspicious of long-term emigrants. In a particularly petty, vindictive move, both countries revoke their citizens’ right to vote after just five years living abroad. Over the years my chances to have my say politically have mostly been in print rather than the ballot box.  

Here in Spain my voting options have recently changed. While I can vote in the municipal elections, thanks to a bilateral agreement between Spain and the UK, regional and, somewhat more understandably, national elections remain out of my reach. I used to have a choice in the European elections, but that was before the UK lost its mind and communally committed harikari with Brexit.  

The right to choose is vital in any state that holds any pretentions of being modern and progressive. The dark decades of not being able to express any choice are thankfully long behind Spain and it is now one of the freest countries in the world. But even for those, unlike me, who can vote here, how much say do you really have in choosing who will represent your interests? Can you put a name and face to the individual who will be defending what’s best for you?

The answer is…complicated.

That’s because Spain, along with a dubious list of countries that include the likes of Algeria, Burkina Faso, Togo and Turkey, has a closed list voting system. One in which voters are free to vote for political parties as a whole, but in which they have no influence on the party-supplied order in which party candidates are elected. This means that the order of candidates elected is fixed by the party itself and voters are not able to express a preference for a particular candidate. 

The candidates positioned highest on this list have a greater chance in obtaining a seat in the parliament while the candidates positioned very low on the closed list will not. This creates a sycophantic atmosphere within the party where the candidates’ loyalty lies more with the party than with the people. A party whose broader interests may be in conflict with those of the electorate.

The ongoing saqueo byIberdrola of our reservoirs or the extremely unpopular proposed lithium mine a mere 2kms away from the UNESCO core of Caceres and atop its aquifer are clear examples of these conflicting stances.

Political parties can be useful mechanisms to group together people who share similar ideologies and beliefs, but when they become de facto business entities more interested in their own interests rather than those of the electorate, change is seriously in order.

If I had the choice, I would want to be able to choose the individual acting on my behalf and not some political corporation whose instinct is its own survival.